Ming Qi lay on the bed, gritting his teeth as he stared at his phone.
Yu Qinzhou had actually used his account to reply in that post discussing whether he was “good in bed,” and left a very affirmative “good.” Luckily, Ming Qi usually used a secondary Weibo account when surfing online, otherwise this storm would have lasted much longer.
He angrily deleted that “good,” then reposted: He clearly doesn’t work.
Although he was spreading rumors online, Ming Qi was still worried Yu Qinzhou himself might see it, so he quickly exited the page. Just as he was about to get up, a warm hand landed on his lower back, applying just the right pressure as it massaged away the soreness. Ming Qi’s slender fingers clutched the corner of the pillow as he turned his head to look at him.
Yu Qinzhou was sitting at the edge of the bed, his movements gentle yet strong and casual, his features carrying a faint sense of satisfaction. Even the red mole at the corner of his eye looked vivid and alluring.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
Ming Qi gave a vague response, acknowledging the quality of the massage.
…
Ming Qi didn’t wake up until noon the next day. After waking, he first saw a message from Meng She, a huge red question mark. Hugging the blanket, he sat up in bed, dazed for a few seconds, then also sent him a large question mark.
Meng She: “Yu Qinzhou doesn’t work?”
Ming Qi blinked blankly, not understanding what that meant.
Just then, Meng She called. As soon as it connected, Meng She said, “It’s already one in the afternoon and you’re only replying now? And you call this Yu Qinzhou doesn’t work? From what I see, he works very well.”
“I never said Yu Qinzhou doesn’t—”
Before he could finish, he saw the screenshot Meng She had sent. The account name [Cats Are All Little Angels] followed by the words [He clearly doesn’t work] nearly made Ming Qi choke on his own saliva.
What the—
How did Meng She see this?
As if guessing his confusion, Meng She said faintly, “Congratulations. Your alt account went viral too.”
Ming Qi: “……”
He hurriedly hung up and opened Weibo. On the trending list was the tag #HeClearlyDoesn’tWork. Ming Qi trembled as he clicked in, and indeed saw that a group of bored marketing accounts had reposted his comment from last night, with captions like: Didn’t we say not to casually @Yu Corporation? Their official account is also very busy. Why keep @ing them? If you delay their projects, can you afford it? And how would their official account even know whether the boss works or not? Right, @Yu Corporation?
Ming Qi: “……”
He wanted to faint on the spot.
What was worse—if Yu Qinzhou saw this topic’s origin, he would immediately recognize this was his alt account.
Ming Qi didn’t dare delay. He quickly got out of bed, washed up, and rushed downstairs. Just as he reached the corner of the stairs, he saw Yu Qinzhou walking toward him. Seeing his hurried appearance, Yu Qinzhou’s gaze swept from his face down to his waist and the exposed ankles of his long legs. His brow lifted slightly as he asked in a teasing tone, “Your waist doesn’t hurt anymore?”
Ming Qi: “…Mm.”
He looked away somewhat guiltily, then stepped forward to grab his fingers as if casually testing the situation. “When did you wake up?”
“Seven in the morning.”
Seven—slightly later than usual.
“Then what did you go do?”
Yu Qinzhou lifted his fingers to tilt Ming Qi’s chin up, looking down at him with a faint smile at the corner of his lips. “Checking on me so carefully?”
Ming Qi felt a bit embarrassed and lightly coughed, swatting his hand away, pretending to be fierce. “Tell me.”
Yu Qinzhou lazily leaned against the railing behind him, speaking unhurriedly: “Woke up at seven, washed up, then went running and exercised. After that I showered, had breakfast around 8:40, and then worked in the study after eating.”
He smiled and asked Ming Qi, “Want me to call Qin Jing over to verify?”
Ming Qi rubbed his nose. “No need.”
So it seemed Yu Qinzhou probably hadn’t had the chance to see Weibo.
However, Yu Qinzhou’s next sentence made Ming Qi nearly jump up: “But I did receive a call from Yu Corporation PR in the middle of it, saying someone was spreading rumors online that I don’t work, and asking whether we should suppress it.”
Ming Qi, who had just relaxed, instantly tensed again.
He forced a dry laugh. “I-is that so? Did you suppress it?”
Yu Qinzhou looked at his guilty expression, as if he was about to run away at any moment, and held back his laughter with difficulty. But Ming Qi like this was just too cute, and that teasing mood rose again in him.
“How could we suppress something like that so casually?” he said slowly. “What if people really start thinking I don’t work?”
Ming Qi regretted deeply that last night he had insisted on fighting for that one breath of pride and slandering Yu Qinzhou’s reputation outside.
“…Then… do you know who spread it?”
“I don’t know. Does Ming Qi know?”
Ming Qi: “……”
Alright, he could now firmly confirm that Yu Qinzhou knew everything.
He didn’t hesitate anymore and bolted downstairs. Unfortunately, although he was fast, Yu Qinzhou reacted even faster—an arm wrapped around his waist, effortlessly pulling him into his embrace.
“I think there’s only one way to solve this matter: this little one who spread rumors about me outside needs to come forward and explain for me. What does Ming Qi think?”
Ming Qi accepted his fate and pressed his forehead against Yu Qinzhou’s chest.
“I think so too.”
A few minutes later, Ming Qi and Yu Qinzhou sat at opposite ends of the dining table. Ming Qi bit into the beef Yu Qinzhou handed him while opening Weibo. Just a slight glance downward and he saw 99+ private messages and notifications. Ming Qi stiffened his beautiful face and posted a new Weibo:
“He is very capable, extremely capable, super capable, really, I swear / raises hand”
As soon as the post was sent, it received hundreds of replies.
[Hahahahahahahahaha]
[So tell me, is there a lawyer’s letter from Yu Corporation in front of you right now]
[You’re actually a CP fan of ZhouQi! How can you say he’s not capable!]
[Yu Qinzhou: I used a lawyer’s letter to exchange for my dignity]
[Bro are you okay? Is someone from Yu Corporation holding a knife to your neck?]
The overwhelming ridicule made the corner of Ming Qi’s eye twitch uncontrollably. He slammed his phone off, thinking to himself: what lawyer’s letter—there were only two choices, either sleep on the bed or not sleep on the bed tomorrow.
…
In the following days, Ming Qi could clearly feel that Yu Qinzhou was somewhat busy. Not only going to work every day, but most of the time also staying in the study. Ming Qi didn’t disturb him; besides reading scripts, he and Meng She filmed videos for Little Eight. After several rounds, Little Eight’s short-video follower count had even caught up to Ming Qi’s Weibo followers.
Ming Qi hugged Little Eight and buried his face in its belly, smiling as he said, “If your daddy goes bankrupt in the future and I can’t make it in the entertainment industry, then we’ll have to trouble our Little Eight to support the family.”
Little Eight clearly didn’t understand how heavy this responsibility was and calmly meowed in response.
Meng She, while editing videos, said to Ming Qi, “Right, there’s something I thought I should still tell you.”
Ming Qi was happily playing with Little Eight and only casually asked, “What?”
“On the day your ‘exposing your man’ thing trended, when you went to wash up, Wen Yulan called me in the middle and asked whether we needed help taking down the trending topic.” Meng She glanced at Ming Qi and continued, “The next day he asked again whether you and Yu Qinzhou were real.”
Meng She had long known Wen Yulan’s feelings, and originally wanted to tell him directly that Ming Qi and Yu Qinzhou were a couple. But after thinking it over, he felt it wasn’t appropriate, since Ming Qi and Yu Qinzhou were still in a hidden marriage state.
Even if he were to tell Wen Yulan, it should be Ming Qi himself who did it.
“I just pretended I didn’t understand and only told him the airport incident was really an accident.”
Meng She shrugged. He wasn’t lying either—it really was an accident.
However… he felt Wen Yulan seemed to know something. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come to ask this question specifically after Ming Qi posted the clarification video.
Ming Qi opened his mouth, about to say something, when the door to the study suddenly opened. Yu Qinzhou stepped out. Meng She decisively stood up and took his leave, giving Ming Qi and Yu Qinzhou their alone time.
Ming Qi: “……”
Meng She’s sense of timing was astonishing.
He watched Yu Qinzhou sit down beside him, then without any regard for the image of the Yu Corporation boss, lifted him onto his lap and buried his face into Ming Qi’s neck, gently inhaling.
Ming Qi: “……”
He couldn’t help but say faintly, “I usually sniff Little Eight like this.”
Yu Qinzhou’s behavior was exactly the same as how he sniffed cats.
But just after speaking, Ming Qi felt warm lips and the tip of a tongue pressing against the skin of his neck. A simple kiss alone was enough to make his body instinctively tense. The man’s palm rested behind him, slowly tracing down along his spine. By the time Ming Qi’s waist and legs had gone soft, Yu Qinzhou finally smiled and asked, “Now it’s different from Little Eight.”
Ming Qi couldn’t help but tug at him.
He reached out, Yu Qinzhou dodged, so Ming Qi decisively changed target—his hand that had been aimed at Yu Qinzhou’s face suddenly went toward his waist. After a few moves, Yu Qinzhou was pressed down onto the sofa.
Ming Qi lay on top of him and asked softly, “Is the company really that busy recently?”
Seeing how obedient he looked, like a little cat, Yu Qinzhou’s heart softened. His fingers brushed Ming Qi’s back of the head as he gently explained, “It’s alright, just preparing to close the net.”
Ming Qi didn’t understand, nor did he care. He only said to Yu Qinzhou, “Make sure you rest properly.”
Yu Qinzhou gave a sound of acknowledgment, then pinched his cheek. “I asked Meng She. You don’t have much work during this period, don’t go out. Meng She will also stay next door; you two can play together, and if that’s still not enough, call Yu Yue over too.”
Ming Qi keenly sensed something. He blinked and asked, “Can you tell me what exactly is going on?”
“I’m worried the old master will target you.”
Old master Yu?
Ming Qi imagined various scenes from novels and dramas: the other party handing him a check and saying, “Here’s five million. Take it and leave, don’t appear again.”
The corner of Ming Qi’s eye twitched unconsciously, and then he felt Yu Qinzhou’s fingertip press lightly at the corner of his eye. The man looked at him amusedly.
“What are you thinking in that little head?” Yu Qinzhou said. “The old master’s methods aren’t as simple as throwing you a check. He might one day suddenly kidnap you, then cut off one of your fingers and send it to me.”
Ming Qi: “?”
His eyes slowly widened. He couldn’t help but object, “That’s illegal.”
Yu Qinzhou, however, let out a faint, ambiguous laugh. “Some people have done plenty of illegal things and still haven’t been arrested.”
Ming Qi suddenly thought of Yu Qinzhou’s father.
He didn’t ask any further questions, obediently nodding to show that he definitely wouldn’t leave Xijing Bay in the near future.
…
Ming Qi was originally not someone who liked going out, so staying in Xijing Bay for a full week didn’t feel boring at all. Especially since Min Zhengyue was someone who knew how to create entertainment—he brought out his precious collection: a set of jade mahjong tiles, and called over Qin Jing and Meng She, just enough to make a table.
Only, Little Eight especially liked to cause trouble at times like this. But since it was so cute, no one drove it away. Instead, they all took endless photos and videos, which were eventually uploaded in bulk to Meng She’s short-video account.
While Meng She was scrolling through comments screaming, [You rich people are insane, who uses jade for mahjong tiles like this], he said to Ming Qi, “A lot of cat food and pet brands have reached out for ads. I turned them all down.”
Ming Qi nodded. He knew Meng She had good judgment, so he didn’t say anything more.
Just as he was about to win this round, the phone beside him suddenly lit up.
Min Zhengyue glanced over casually—and when he saw the three characters “Wen Yulan,” his gaze deepened slightly.