Ming Qi felt as if ten thousand grass-mud horses were stampeding through his mind, the gusts they kicked up carrying an overwhelming sense of shame.
If possible, please just weld this coat directly onto his face.
He, Ming Qi, had lived his whole life upright and honorable, never even brushing against anything remotely like explicit smut. Yet somehow, after becoming an adult, he had been branded as someone who only stared at men’s lower bodies—almost earning himself the title of a lecherous villain.
He closed his eyes tightly. With both hands clutching the coat, he said in a voice full of despair from beneath it, “…Mr. Yu, if I say I was just born with a bit of a cross-eye and had no other intention, do you believe me?”
The unexpected answer made Yu Qinchou raise his elegant brows slightly. He let out a soft laugh. “Mr. Ming’s angle of cross-eye vision is quite admirable.”
Ming Qi forced himself to retort, “Mostly because Mr. Yu is tall with long legs. When I look over, the angle just happens to land there perfectly.”
“So you’re saying it’s still my fault?”
Ming Qi, taking advantage of the fact that his face was still buried in the coat, boldly gave two muffled “mm” sounds in agreement.
That dead-serious, shameless attitude was actually kind of interesting.
Yu Qinchou walked closer. The distance between them shrank until even through the coat, one could faintly smell that pleasant woody scent on him. Before Ming Qi could react, Yu Qinchou’s long fingers had already lifted a corner of the coat. His gaze fell on Ming Qi’s flushed face, which was slightly red from lack of airflow. With a light push of his fingers, the expensive suit worth six figures was casually tossed onto the floor.
Using the advantage of his height, Yu Qinchou reached out and brushed Ming Qi’s soft short hair, straightening the messy strands. His tone remained calm as ever. “At my age, I probably won’t grow any taller. If Mr. Ming doesn’t mind, you can look a little more. I’ll try to get used to it.”
Ming Qi’s brain was working at full speed now and immediately understood the unspoken meaning behind the words:
Next time you stare at it, I won’t overthink it.
Ming Qi: “……”
That’s… way too considerate.
He really couldn’t bring himself to continue such an embarrassing topic, so he cleared his throat and quickly changed direction, pointing at the marriage agreement and holding up two fingers. He said seriously, “There are two more questions.”
Yu Qinchou knew when to stop teasing. If you pushed a rabbit too far, it would bite—let alone Ming Qi.
He nodded, signaling him to continue.
Ming Qi asked, “The agreement only requires me and Mr. Yu to register our marriage and occasionally go to the old residence to ‘accompany’ the old master. Does that mean our marriage doesn’t need to be made public?”
“Considering Mr. Ming’s profession, I’m willing to hear Mr. Ming’s thoughts.”
Although he said that, when drafting this agreement, Yu Qinchou had already considered every possibility. And based on his understanding of Ming Qi, he could also guess that Ming Qi would choose to keep it private.
As expected, the young man smiled faintly, lips pressed together. “I really like my current job. Although I’m just an unknown minor actor, I’ve always believed my efforts will eventually pay off.”
So regardless of whether the role he received was important or not, Ming Qi would always face it and perform at his best.
But if his marriage with Yu Qinchou were made public, things would no longer be so pure.
In the entertainment circle, all sorts of hidden currents would stop giving him a hard time. He might even receive countless excellent roles delivered right to his doorstep—perhaps major productions that had been carefully prepared for years with enormous investment, or television dramas directed by famous filmmakers, supported by veteran actors.
But Ming Qi didn’t think he was capable of carrying that kind of heavy goodwill and “gifted” success at this moment.
Without enough ability, everything would be meaningless.
“So I’ve always hoped that the path I walk is one I build with my own strength. I want to become good enough to deserve the opportunities others give me.”
This confession of his inner thoughts was as clean and transparent as Ming Qi’s eyes.
“Then I’m willing to stand behind Mr. Ming and witness his growth,” Yu Qinchou raised his brows slightly, clearly in a good mood. “What’s the second question?”
“You didn’t specify how long the marriage lasts.”
The hidden little intention was exposed. Yu Qinchou clicked his tongue inwardly, then said after a pause, “We’ll talk about it when the old master is in his coffin.”
Ming Qi: “……”
So that’s not just a little unfilial—it’s extreme.
…
The revised marriage agreement was quickly delivered into Ming Qi’s hands, taking less than twenty minutes.
It was enough to show how badly Yu Qinchou wanted to anger Old Master Yu.
Ming Qi, helping Yu Qinchou carry out his plan, took the pen from him and began filling in his name. He lowered his head, rolled up his sleeve, and wrote each stroke carefully and seriously.
Because of that, he didn’t notice Yu Qinchou’s gaze lingering on the red string around his left wrist.
Yu Qinchou remembered that red string very clearly.
Although it looked simple, it came from Ling Mountain Temple, one of the four great temples in the country, known for the saying that “what you seek will be fulfilled.” He remembered that the red string on Ming Qi’s wrist had been requested by Wen Yunian, the young master of the Wen family. It was said that in order to have it blessed by the head abbot, the pampered young master had knelt in the temple for an entire day.
When Yu Qinchou brought Ming Qi back, he had once deliberately removed the red string from Ming Qi’s wrist and placed it on the bedside.
He didn’t see Ming Qi wearing it yesterday, so he thought Ming Qi had finally figured things out.
He didn’t expect it to be back on his wrist today.
His rarely good mood was instantly ruined.
“It’s signed,” Ming Qi carefully put away the expensive pen and handed both it and the agreement to Yu Qinchou.
The other man didn’t respond.
Ming Qi glanced up, only then realizing Yu Qinchou seemed to be distracted.
But “distracted” wasn’t quite right. Meng She had once said that when Ming Qi spaced out, his eyes were unfocused—but Yu Qinchou was completely different at this moment.
Before today, perhaps because Yu Qinchou had helped him and always treated him gently, Ming Qi felt that the man he saw didn’t match the rumors. But now, the man’s narrow eyes were filled with ink-dark turbulence, layer upon layer freezing into ice—cold, indifferent, and dangerous.
Ming Qi froze for a moment. His knuckle accidentally bumped the edge of the table, making a soft sound.
Yu Qinchou snapped back to reality. The dark, heavy look in his eyes was instantly covered up again. He raised a faint smile, returning to the elegant demeanor of a wealthy young master as usual. “It’s signed?”
Ming Qi blinked, thinking he must have seen it wrong, and obediently nodded.
Yu Qinzhou stood up, picked up the copy of the agreement that belonged to him, and placed it into the drawer. With his fingertips, he smoothed out a slightly curled corner without a trace of effort. His voice was calm.
“Then, happy cooperation. Next, I’ll have to trouble Mr. Ming to adapt to your new role. Also, the Civil Affairs Bureau won’t reopen until the seventh day of the Lunar New Year. During this time, do you want to stay here, or go back to your own home?”
Ming Qi quickly said, “I’ll go home.”
An expected answer.
Yu Qinzhou didn’t feel disappointed. He simply said, “Alright. Then let’s add contact information. I’ll pick you up when the time comes.”
After staying here for a day, Ming Qi had already learned the exact location of this villa—it was completely in the opposite direction from his own residential complex, and the distance was quite far. Going back and forth would be troublesome. He politely declined Yu Qinzhou’s kindness with a smile.
“I can just take a taxi myself.”
He felt around his sleepwear pocket and pulled out his phone. “Mr. Yu, should I scan you, or you scan me?”
“I’ll scan you.”
The WeChat page quickly switched to Ming Qi’s profile. Yu Qinzhou noticed his profile picture was a fat orange cat lying on its back inside a cardboard box, exposing a soft belly, its tail curled just enough to cover its private area—strikingly cute.
“Your cat?”
Ming Qi shook his head. “It used to be mine. But it got old and has already gone to the Meow Star.”
Yu Qinzhou, unexpectedly, didn’t say anything like “sorry” or offer comfort. He only said, “I used to have a dog too.”
Meeting Ming Qi’s curious gaze, Yu Qinzhou added a bit more, “A Dogo Argentino. It was raised at my overseas home. Its name was Tank.”
“Tank?”
That didn’t sound like a name Yu Qinzhou would normally come up with.
“I named it when I was six.”
Ming Qi politely praised him, “Very imposing.”
“Indeed.”
Yu Qinzhou let out a faint, ambiguous laugh.
After all, Yu Tianqi’s leg bones had been shattered in Tank’s jaws.
…
Around ten o’clock, Yu Qinzhou brought over the clothes that had already been washed and dried to the guest room.
Leaning against the doorframe, he looked at Ming Qi and said, “I’m going to the old residence at Wanghe Mountain later. I can drop you home on the way.”
Ming Qi thought for a moment and realized it really was on the way this time, so he didn’t refuse.
A black Koenigsegg stopped in front of the entrance of Xiangti Green Shade Community. The neighborhood wasn’t particularly upscale, but it was quiet and peaceful. There weren’t many pedestrians or vehicles passing by, so the Koenigsegg’s appearance didn’t draw much attention.
Ming Qi unfastened his seatbelt. Just as he said “Thank you, Mr. Yu,” he saw the man’s slender fingers move from the steering wheel to his lips, gently tapping them.
Ming Qi: “…………?”
What does that mean?
A… farewell kiss?
Although they had already signed a marriage agreement and were just waiting for the Civil Affairs Bureau to open on the seventh day of the Lunar New Year to register, and although Yu Qinzhou had even said that he could come to him if needed, a farewell kiss—something so intimate and reserved for couples in the honeymoon phase—didn’t seem appropriate between them.
Or was this part of adapting to their new roles?
Ming Qi gripped his seatbelt tightly, torn between “kiss” and “don’t kiss.” After much hesitation, just as he finally steeled himself to take a big step forward, the man who had been waiting for a while noticed his strange expression and said calmly:
“The new mask is in your pocket.”
Ming Qi: “……”
Oh. It was about the mask.
He hurriedly pulled a disposable mask from his pocket, tore open the packaging, and put it on, instantly hiding all his embarrassment and awkwardness. Throwing out a quick “Please drive safely, Mr. Yu,” he grabbed his document folder and fled.
While running, he thought—thank goodness he hadn’t acted on impulse and kissed him. Otherwise, he would’ve been so embarrassed he could’ve literally dug out a luxury villa comparable to Wanghe Mountain on the spot.
After finally getting home, Ming Qi lay on the sofa, trying to calm his racing heart.
After resting for a while, he slowly pushed himself up and sat. Leaning against a soft cushion, he picked up the document folder that had fallen to the floor and opened it.
Just one glance made his pupils tremble. He immediately snapped the folder shut again.
—He might have just seen something unbelievable.
Rubbing his eyes, Ming Qi hesitantly pulled out the papers again. The bold black words “Medical Examination Report” struck like lightning, dragging back the memories he had just suppressed.
Ming Qi: “……”
After a brief pause, he convinced himself internally.
Anyway, he had already stared at that… area, and the report had already been delivered into his hands. What was wrong with taking a look?
He cleared his throat, fixed his gaze on the document, and when he saw certain examination details, he suddenly covered his face.
The Koenigsegg roared like a beast as it rushed into the Wanghe Mountain estate.
In front of the standalone villa located at the best spot in the entire area stood the elderly butler and six servants. Yu Qinzhou pushed open the car door, stepped out with his long legs, and casually tossed the keys to the butler.
The old butler stepped forward to receive them, but hesitated for a moment and lowered his voice.
“After you left yesterday, the old master flew into a rage and smashed everything in the house.”
A cold mockery flashed across Yu Qinzhou’s lips.
He glanced indifferently at the butler, who had followed the old master since his youth, and asked with a faint smile, “Butler Zou is telling me this… hoping I’ll go back and submit to him?”
Butler Zou stiffened and did not dare say another word.
Yu Qinzhou withdrew his gaze and walked into the main hall.
The old master of the Yu family had clearly been waiting for his arrival. Dressed in a dark red traditional robe, holding an exquisitely crafted rosewood cane, he sat domineeringly on the sofa, still carrying the imposing aura of his younger years.
His sharp gaze, like that of a hawk, pierced through the air and landed on Yu Qinzhou’s face. Seeing that face so similar to his former daughter-in-law’s, a flash of disgust crossed his eyes before turning into a cold sneer.
“If you’re really so capable, why come back?”
Yu Qinzhou leaned back on the sofa opposite Old Master Yu.
Compared to the old man’s deliberately imposing posture meant to pressure him, Yu Qinzhou remained unusually calm. He bent down and selected a vividly colored apple, then pulled out the fruit knife from beneath the coffee table. With his slender, jade-like fingers resting lightly against the blade’s side, he slowly and unhurriedly peeled the entire apple in one continuous strip, dropping the peel into the trash.
The silver blade sliced off a piece of fruit as he said casually, “If I don’t have real ability, then who does? Your dear son who’s in prison sewing clothes on a sewing machine?”
Yu Qinzhou knew exactly where to strike to hurt Yu the Old Master’s pride.
He watched with interest as the old man’s expression shifted repeatedly, and let out a soft laugh. “If you’re still living in a dream, Old Master, why don’t I help you wake up?”
The obvious threat made Yu the Old Master’s eyes widen. His cane struck the floor with a heavy thump, thump, thump—each impact seeming to land directly on one’s heart.
Unfortunately, that kind of pressure had no effect on Yu Qinzhou at all.
The man rotated the knife in his long fingers. A streak of silver light flashed through the air as the blade’s tip brushed past the old man’s stiff body, and a few strands of his white hair slowly drifted down.
Thud.
The knife stabbed into the wooden picture frame behind him, pinning the photograph of the Yu father and son against the wall.
Yu Qinzhou stood up unhurriedly, his tone gentle and courteous. “Grandfather, as your grandson, I sincerely hope you live to be a hundred years old.”
“So, don’t provoke me. After all, my temper really isn’t very good.”