Xijing Bay.
Min Zhengyue was lounging lazily on the sofa with his legs crossed, eyes fixed on his phone. He replayed the video of Yu Qinzhou doing ring toss over and over again, clicking his tongue in admiration.
“This really is all-rounder energy,” he said. “Netizens are joking about it, but other CEOs give their lovers jewelry, houses, or resources. Only you—you give Ming Qi goose ring toss.”
Yu Qinzhou only lifted his eyelids slightly and let out a faint scoff.
“You said it yourself,” he replied lightly. “Those are lovers.”
“But Ming Qi is my legally registered spouse.”
He didn’t bother explaining further and instead asked, “You here to move more wine again?”
“Do I only come here for that in your eyes?” Min Zhengyue muttered, then immediately laughed awkwardly under Yu Qinzhou’s half-smile. “Fine… I guess I do. But I’m here to visit the set today.”
He had even ordered afternoon tea, which would be delivered later.
Min Zhengyue had always been interested in filming. Previously, he hadn’t wanted to travel so far to disturb Ming Qi’s crew, but now that the opportunity had come, he naturally wouldn’t miss it.
Also—
“I was talking with Brother Xi a while ago. He said the projects your company is investing in the entertainment industry are doing really well. Brother, can you pull some strings so I can make a bit of money too?”
Yu Qinzhou glanced at him.
“Drinking really did mess up your brain?”
For someone who usually only knew how to eat, drink, and have fun, suddenly wanting to earn money was surprising.
Min Zhengyue: “It’s because my parents heard about you and Ming Qi. They said even you have turned over a new leaf and settled down, so I should learn from you—either make money or go on blind dates.”
“I’ll choose making money, obviously.”
“Then just go find Ji Yixiu.”
“Got it!” Just then his phone rang. “Seems like the afternoon tea’s here. Brother, do you want to go check out the place next door?”
“Let’s go.”
A week passed quickly, and soon it was the day of the Golden Crane Awards.
This year it was held at the Beijing Grand Theater. Following the usual schedule, the red carpet started at 5 p.m., and the awards ceremony began at 7:30 p.m.
Ming Qi and Bo Hongfang were in the same dressing room. They were both representing Undercover, while Director Zhang Cong and Ji Xinyan were there for Death Notice.
Bo Hongfang let the makeup brush move across his face with his eyes half-closed, then yawned.
“Zhang Cong is going to be busy today,” he said.
Then he turned to the makeup artist and added:
“Don’t make his makeup too good-looking. If we walk the red carpet together and I get overshadowed, what am I supposed to do?”
He looked at the argument in the comments and found it both funny and exhausting, so he didn’t bother arguing back. He simply dropped a “idiots” and went to calm down fans who were being led off-track, stating plainly: “The Wheel of Rebirth is a script Ming Qi personally picked from dozens. He really likes it. Everyone can look forward to it / heart”
After that, the attention on The Wheel of Rebirth noticeably increased. Because Ming Qi had gone into filming and his Weibo had gone quiet, fans had nowhere to entertain themselves, so they gathered at the official account waiting for behind-the-scenes content.
This time, the behind-the-scenes clip that Ning Jiang prepared still didn’t include Yu Qinzhou—but it did include Xiao Ba. During a break, Xiao Ba swaggered in from outside the villa, followed by several fat white geese wearing diapers. The male second lead saw those plump geese and his eyes practically lit up.
“This goose is good. It’ll be perfect for braised goose.”
The next second, one of the geese bit his butt and chased him screaming all the way across the yard. He finally hid behind Ming Qi before the geese let him go and wandered off elsewhere.
Male second lead: “…Medical expenses can be waived, but Ming Qi, remember to pay me emotional damage compensation. Otherwise tomorrow I’ll leak to the paparazzi that a top celebrity secretly keeps geese as pets!”
Ming Qi held back laughter and raised one finger: “One cup of milk tea.”
The male second lead immediately shook his head: “My manager said I’m getting fat. I’ll have an iced Americano.”
Ming Qi agreed.
The video ended abruptly.
“How was it?” Ning Jiang asked.
Ming Qi hesitated for a second: “I’m fine with it. I’m just worried Brother Xuan might not be.”
After all, the one who got butt-attacked by geese wasn’t him, and the one getting embarrassed in the public eye wasn’t him either.
Ning Jiang waved his hand: “He agreed. He’s already on the comedy route anyway, it’s fine to release it.”
…
After the behind-the-scenes clip went out, the related topic shot into the top ten trending list that day.
Half the internet was screaming that Xiao Ba was adorable, and the other half was laughing at Lin Xuan’s stupidity.
Only one account named [My Goose] quietly commented: “These white geese look really familiar… aren’t they mine?!”
Black fans immediately seized on it and launched a new trending topic:
#Ming Qi stole geese#
Fans: “……”
Ming Qi himself: “……”
Meng Shao didn’t even bother scolding them. He posted a nationwide list of mental health hospitals and warmly invited the black fans to move in, offering to cover the accommodation fees.
The [My Goose] account then posted a photo of goose-throwing rings and said: “Black fans are fast—I only posted half before it got reposted. PS: I have to admit, Mr. Yu’s ring-throwing skills are pretty good.”
So under #Ming Qi stole geese#, another tag appeared:
#Yu Qinzhou ring-throwing geese#
Ming Qi: “……”
This is getting ridiculous.
At West Scenic Bay.
Min Zhengyue leaned back on the sofa, legs crossed, lazily watching his phone screen as he replayed the ring-throwing video of Yu Qinzhou over and over, clicking his tongue.
“He really is all-rounder,” he said. “Online people are joking that other CEOs give jewelry, houses, and resources to their lovers, but you—bro, you gave Ming Qi goose-ring-throwing.”
Yu Qinzhou glanced at him and gave a faint snort.
“You also said ‘lover’,” he replied calmly. “But Ming Qi is my legally registered spouse.”
Min Zhengyue froze for a second, then scratched his nose awkwardly.
“Fair point…”
He immediately changed topic. “I came to visit set today. I also ordered afternoon tea, it’ll arrive soon.”
He was genuinely interested in filming and wanted to visit Ming Qi’s set now that he finally had the chance.
Then he added, “I talked with Brother Qi. He said several of the Yu Corporation’s entertainment projects are doing really well. Bro, can you pull some strings so I can make a bit of money too?”
Yu Qinzhou looked at him like he was slightly broken.
“Did drinking mess up your brain?”
Min Zhengyue coughed.
“My parents said you’ve turned over a new leaf and told me to learn from you—either make money or go on blind dates.”
“So you picked making money,” Yu Qinzhou said flatly.
“Obviously,” Min Zhengyue replied. “Dating is for dogs.”
“But they froze my card.”
“…Go ask Ji Yixiu yourself.”
“Got it!”
Just then his phone rang—afternoon tea had arrived. He perked up. “Bro, you going next door?”
“Let’s go.”
Time passed quickly. Before long, the Golden Crane Awards ceremony arrived.
Ming Qi and Bo Hongfang were in the same styling room. Today they were representing Lying Infiltration, while Zhang Cong and Ji Xiner represented Death Forecast.
Bo Hongfang let the makeup brush move across his face with one eye half-closed, yawning.
“Zhang Cong is going to be busy today.”
Then he turned and said to the makeup artist: “Don’t make his makeup too good-looking. Otherwise I’ll get outshined walking the red carpet.”
Then he looked at Ming Qi: “Go all out on him. Let this idiot get crushed.”
Ming Qi thought that was unnecessary.
He just wanted something clean and simple.
At that moment, the makeup artist thought the same.
After finishing makeup, Ming Qi went to change clothes. He wore a tailored suit prepared by Yu Qinzhou—not purely black, not too formal, but perfectly matching his build and making his posture look especially sharp and elegant.
“Yu Dong is here,” Zheng Liang said.
Bo Hongfang turned his head and saw Yu Qinzhou walking over holding a small box. He opened it and took out a tie.
“I’ll help you with it,” Yu Qinzhou said lightly.
He placed the tie around Ming Qi’s neck and methodically tied a Windsor knot with calm, precise fingers.
Bo Hongfang: “…You told me he was here just to feed me dog food?”
Zheng Liang silently grabbed a tie from the side.
“I’ll help you too.”
Bo Hongfang: “But your expression looks like you want to strangle me.”
“Then hurry up and change clothes!”
Bo Hongfang ran.
Later that night, Bo Hongfang sat in the car scrolling Weibo, randomly reposting giveaway posts from the Cycle CP supertopic like a machine.
Fans were hyped, spamming posts like: “If Ming Qi wins, I’ll give away a red envelope.”
Rich fans were even offering luxury bags and perfumes.
Bo Hongfang muttered, “Just don’t go overboard. If he doesn’t win and I repost all this, it’ll be pointless.”
Then he suddenly noticed Ming Qi’s hand flash with a dark green shimmer.
“Yo, matching rings?”
Ming Qi smiled and held up his hand.
“Wedding ring.”
Bo Hongfang nodded approvingly. “Nice taste. Your CP fans are going to explode later.”
The live broadcast camera captured them stepping onto the red carpet.
A sleek black car stopped. Bo Hongfang got out first, then turned back. Ming Qi stepped out next, lifting his gaze—
Instantly hitting the camera with his face.
The chat exploded.
The focus quickly shifted to his left hand as he signed the board.
He was wearing a ring.
A matching pair.
The internet erupted.
At the awards ceremony, they found their seats. Ming Qi glanced at the name tags and raised an eyebrow.
Bo Hongfang muttered, “Is the organizer insane?”
Then Huo Chengtang walked over.
“Long time no see.”
Bo Hongfang immediately pushed his face away.
“I’ll only give you a small role even if I direct,” Bo Hongfang said.
“I’m fine with that,” Huo Chengtang replied. “Whatever role you give me, I’ll take it.”
Ming Qi watched quietly, smiling more and more as he enjoyed the chaos.
The stage performances ended, and the awards were about to begin.
At the beginning, there were some awards like Best Children’s Award, feature film, documentary, and other categories with relatively lower attention. The celebrities under the stage looked serious, but the viewers in the livestream were yawning, with the bullet comments all saying things like “Why hasn’t the XXX award come yet?”
Until the individual awards began to be presented, everyone’s spirits were immediately lifted.
Best Director: Zhang Cong.
Best Actor: Bu Hongfang.
It was more or less expected.
Ji Xinan’s character image in Death Notice was not as flesh-and-blood as Bu Hongfang’s, because Bu Hongfang played a pervert. His acting was superb, with strong explosive power. Most viewers who watched those scenes for the first time would be frightened by Bu Hongfang—in other words, it made the audience feel as if they were personally there.
With that kind of acting, it would be strange not to win an award.
Ming Qi looked at Bu Hongfang on stage, who was rarely serious, and clapped hard, his eyes bright.
That was the stage countless actors longed for their entire lives.
It was also the stage he longed for.
“Are you nervous?” Zhang Cong, sitting on his other side, asked. “Best Supporting Actor is about to be announced.”
Ming Qi came back to his senses and curved his eyes slightly. “Nervous, but it doesn’t seem like being nervous helps.”
Zhang Cong nodded.
Time passed. After Best Actress was announced, the big screen in front began showing clips from the films competing for Best Supporting Actor. The role Ming Qi played, Shen Yushan, was included among them. The clip shown was the scene where Shen Yushan killed Zhou Ting. In that scene, Ming Qi fully displayed Shen Yushan’s paranoia and madness.
“I announce that the winner of Best Supporting Actor is——”
The voice was deliberately drawn out to create suspense. Under countless expectant and curious gazes, the host loudly said: “Undercover, Ming Qi!”
The camera suddenly zoomed in, and Ming Qi’s face appeared on the big screen. He blinked, was lightly pushed by Zhang Cong, then stood up and walked toward the stage.
The vast theater fell into darkness. A beam of light fell on Ming Qi, illuminating only the steps ahead of him. Step by step, he walked forward, and under the smiling, kind gaze of the elder artist, he took the trophy handed to him.
“Ming Qi, congratulations. I hope you can bring everyone more and better works in the days ahead.”
“Thank you.”
Ming Qi recognized her. When Lu Fengjing first stepped onto the Golden Crane Awards stage and won Best Supporting Actor, it was also this senior who had handed him the trophy.
For the first time, Ming Qi deeply realized that although Lu Fengjing and Ming Yun had been gone for many years, the distance between them was still so close.
He smiled toward the camera, slightly raising the trophy. The ring on the ring finger of his left hand sparkled under the lights. Unexpectedly, he did not say much, but instead said: “Thank you all. I’ll be coming to the next Golden Crane Awards too.”
[Ahhhhh my kid won an award!]
[Laughing so hard, “I’ll come next time too” is so funny]
[Hey, you know what, you really know what, when Winter Has Arrived is released, Ming Qi will be competing for Best Actor!]
[So nice, watching you go from extras to winning awards. You’ll get more and more awards in the future!]
[I didn’t expect someone usually so calm to actually have such ambition, but I’m looking forward to it hahaha]
[Go for it my baby!!]
After the Golden Crane Awards ended, Ming Qi held his trophy and followed Bu Hongfang and others out through the side door. After walking not far, Bu Hongfang poked his waist and said, “Your man is here to pick you up.”
Ming Qi raised his eyes. At the entrance, a black Koenigsegg was parked. Yu Qinchou stood by the car, his narrow eyes smiling.
Ming Qi stood there and looked at him for a few seconds, then suddenly ran forward and threw himself into his arms. He looked up, eyes bright like stars, smiling brilliantly: “Did you see it?”
“I saw it. My baby is amazing. When you lifted the trophy, it looked like you were glowing.” Yu Qinchou never hesitated to praise Ming Qi, smiling as he lowered his head to touch his face. “Let’s take you out to celebrate.”
“Okay, I want a big meal.”
Yu Qinchou naturally did not refuse.
But in the end, they did not go to Chunqiu Residence, nor to those high-end restaurants. Ming Qi placed the trophy and his somewhat formal suit jacket in the car, then pulled Yu Qinchou to a street corner barbecue shop and ordered a lot of skewers and two cans of cold beer.
The two cans clinked lightly together. Under the streetlight, Ming Qi’s delicate features were illuminated. He curved his eyes and smiled: “I’m only one step away from that position.”
He held up his hand and lightly measured a gap with his pinky. “Soon I’ll be able to see the view from the top.”
Yu Qinchou gently stroked his hair, his low voice softer than tonight’s moonlight: “I’ll always be with you.”
After eating barbecue, the two returned to Xijing Bay.
At one in the morning, Ming Qi’s long-abandoned Weibo finally had activity again.
He uploaded two photos: one of the Best Supporting Actor trophy, and one of a back-view shot of him and Yu Qinchou standing under a streetlight.
He wrote: Not yet at the peak, but I’ve already grasped the light.