“Little Beauty and Little Handsome,” whose real name was Su Hang, was discussing Undercover with a friend, preparing to film an in-depth recommendation video.
He had been a film enthusiast since childhood, especially fond of mystery and crime films. He never missed most of Zhang Cong’s works. When he watched Death Warning, Bo Hongfang’s role as a killer and Ming Qi’s small but explosive performance had left a deep impression on him.
And after watching Undercover today, he felt it was even better than Death Warning—tighter plot, more twists, and explosive acting in key moments.
He was already planning to praise them to the skies.
But before he could start, Ming Qi’s @ notification nearly sent him flying.
He grabbed his friend’s arm, eyes wide.
“Who is ‘he’ in Ming Qi’s post?! Is it his partner?! Is this real?!”
At the same time, netizens who were happily gossiping online were also stunned.
[Just a second ago I was happily shipping, then I saw Ming Qi’s post and my smile just froze]
[WAIT WHAT?! He actually invited him?!]
[WAIT WHAT?! Ming Qi really has a partner?! He just admitted it?!]
[My smile didn’t disappear—it just transferred to Su Hang / smiling]
[@Little Beauty and Little Handsome: Other fans are jealous, but I know you’ve got real talent. Can you bring me along for the meal too? Pretty please]
[The person in front—what are you pretending to be a man for!]
There were quite a few people joining in the excitement, and naturally there were also plenty of dissenting voices.
[As if it’s really going to pass 5 billion.]
[Ming Qi can only play minor roles at best—second male lead? It’ll flop so badly it’ll be ugly.]
[Bo Hongfang’s acting is getting worse and worse.]
Su Hang muttered “idiots” under his breath, decisively blocking all of them, then hurriedly replied to Ming Qi: “Yes yes yes, it’s settled, hehehehehe.”
The endless “hehehehe” clearly showed just how happy he was.
At this moment, in the Zhouqi CP supertopic:
[Tsk tsk, what good luck. Getting President Yu to treat him to a meal—there are only a few people in all of Beijing who get that kind of privilege.]
[Regret!!! Why wasn’t I at the screening event!]
[Since I can’t get Yu Dong to treat me, I’ll just dream that Qi-zai goes to Yu’s restaurant and has lunch with Yu Dong, and I sit at the next table—basically we’re eating together hehe.]
[OH MY GOD I didn’t even think of that—I can also eat with them]
[I came here to get comfort after seeing Ming Qi admit he has a partner… I didn’t expect everyone’s mental state here to be a full level ahead. True, he only said he has a partner, he never said it wasn’t Yu Qinchou.]
…
Bo Hongfang stared at Ming Qi’s Weibo, looking again and again in disbelief.
“Your man is really going to treat this blogger to a meal?”
Ming Qi held up his phone, showing the chat window with Yu Qinchou. There really was a message agreeing to the meal. In fact, if Yu Qinchou hadn’t said so, Ming Qi wouldn’t have gone out of his way to pull off this whole situation.
But…
He scrolled through his comment section. Most people were discussing the “partner” he mentioned.
The last time Yu Qinchou was photographed in that mountain town, rumors about them had spread but were quietly handled. Now that he had openly admitted he was in a relationship, some people seemed to be connecting the dots incorrectly.
Ming Qi blinked innocently at the comment: Is this a clarification of the previous rumor with Yu Qinchou?
This wasn’t a clarification at all—it was confirmation.
“Brother Bo, do you think it can really reach five billion?” Ming Qi asked curiously as he put away his phone.
He remembered that Death Warning earned 2 billion during the Spring Festival release, and eventually climbed to 3.8 billion before leaving theaters, which was already an excellent result.
There was still a gap of over a billion between 3.8 and 5.
“When you were persuading me to eat with Huo Chengtong earlier, I thought you already considered 5 billion a small matter,” Bo Hongfang complained. Then he rested his chin on his hand and raised an eyebrow. “After watching the final cut today, I think there’s no problem. It just depends on whether the audience likes it. It shouldn’t be worse than Death Warning.”
Ming Qi thought so too.
And reality proved his worries unnecessary.
Before May even arrived, Undercover had already passed 200 million in pre-sales. That alone was an excellent signal, and Zhang Cong’s face finally showed a smile. The main cast was frequently asked in roadshows and interviews to set “if we break X billion” challenges.
Ming Qi didn’t escape either. After thinking for a long time, he said, “If it breaks 2 billion, I’ll play a piece of music for everyone. Is that okay?”
The host’s eyes lit up immediately. “Qi-zai can play instruments?”
Ming Qi looked innocent. “No, but I can learn it now.”
The fans laughed, and so did the host. “We’ve all seen Qi-zai’s sincerity—whether we can hear him play depends on everyone!”
After stepping off stage, Meng She looked at him strangely.
“You’re really going to learn instruments on the spot? What, the erhu?”
“I’ll learn piano. Yu Qinchou knows it.”
Of course, if Yu Qinchou also played the erhu, he wouldn’t mind playing that either if the box office hit 3 billion.
Meng She: “So all your so-called fan benefits are just excuses for dating your man?”
Truly outrageous.
…
When Yu Qinchou returned home from the company, the first thing he saw was Ming Qi sitting cross-legged on the sofa, enthusiastically staring at his phone.
So focused that he didn’t even notice Yu Qinchou approaching.
Yu Qinchou said nothing, simply standing behind him and glancing down at the search page: easy piano pieces for beginners.
He didn’t miss Ming Qi’s interview earlier that day, so he naturally knew why he was searching.
He leaned forward slightly. The faint pinewood scent instantly surrounded Ming Qi. Only then did the young man notice him and turn around.
“You’re back,” Ming Qi said, eyes curved.
Yu Qinchou nodded, then smoothly took the phone from his hand. “Your husband is right here. If you have questions, ask me—no need to use Baidu.”
“You saw my interview, didn’t you? Then I’ll be taking up a bit of your time next.”
He held up his pinky slightly to show “just a little.”
Amused, Yu Qinchou bent down and kissed him.
“Trade it for a kiss, and it’s yours.”
Ming Qi thought that sounded like a very good deal. So he agreed immediately.
But after the first piano lesson that night, he wanted to go back in time two hours.
Yu Qinchou sat beside him, raising an eyebrow slightly, his tone unreadable.
“Save it for later. Keep going.”
Even though it was just those three words, Ming Qi suddenly felt an ominous premonition.
He secretly glanced at the man, meeting Yu Qinchou’s faint smile.
“Why are you looking at me, baby? That’s already six times. Focus.”
So Ming Qi obediently continued.
By the end of the lesson, he touched his nose, slightly embarrassed.
There are just some things a person… isn’t that good at.
He followed behind Yu Qinchou, eyes wide and expectant, asking, “Do you think I can learn it before the 2 billion mark?”
Ming Qi had just sneaked a look at the box office numbers. It was only the third day of the holiday, and the total had already neared 1.2 billion—rising like it had been launched on a rocket.
At this pace, it would hit 2 billion in just two or three days.
“Worried?” Yu Qinchou asked.
Ming Qi nodded.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Yu Qinchou looked calm as ever, one arm wrapping around him as he leaned down slightly, smiling. “Instead of worrying whether you can learn it in time, you should think about tonight’s punishment.”
Punishment?
Ming Qi didn’t take the so-called punishment seriously at all.
Wasn’t it just kissing Yu Qinchou a few dozen times?
He leaned in, about to peck Yu Qinchou’s lips, but a hand stopped him before he could reach them. His soft lips pressed against a warm palm instead. Ming Qi blinked in confusion, and then heard Yu Qinchou say meaningfully, “Since it’s a punishment, how can it be that casual?”
So it became what it was now.
Ming Qi was half-buried in the pillow, body weak, tongue slightly numb from being kissed. Even his lips felt faintly sore. His mind was dizzy, barely able to tell direction.
And this was only the first kiss.
Yu Qinchou sat beside him, smiling. “How do you feel?”
Ming Qi mumbled, “Not good.”
“What should we do then?” Yu Qinchou asked leisurely. “Baby still owes me forty-two kisses.”
Ming Qi: “……”
Stop talking. If this went on for forty-two more times, he was going to die on the spot.
“Or how about this,” Yu Qinchou said, looking entirely unbothered, “we exchange kisses for something else. What do you think?”
Ming Qi knew him too well—this man was definitely up to no good. But he really didn’t want forty-two more kisses, so he still peeked out from the pillow and asked cautiously, “What… something else?”
“One time counts as ten kisses. The remaining two kisses I’ll let you off. How about it, baby?”
Ming Qi: “……”