After waking up, Shen Qianzhan spent some time applying eyebrow makeup, lipstick, and concealing dark circles.

Having been tormented too late last night, despite her making up for lost time by catching some sleep, when she got up this morning, her complexion still lacked some color and vitality.

Not long after Shen Qianzhan finished tidying herself up, the medical team member who had been called for consultation last night came knocking at just the right time.

The person wasn’t in her room, so Shen Qianzhan led her next door to take Ji Qinghe’s temperature.

The door wasn’t locked, left slightly ajar.

To avoid encountering any inappropriate scenes, Shen Qianzhan lightly knocked on the door frame before entering. Only after hearing the “come in” from inside did she respond and enter.

The room had three beds laid out. Besides the standard twin beds, an added folding bed sat near the window, appearing white under the daylight streaming into the room.

Ji Qinghe lay fully clothed on the bed, half-leaning against the headboard with one arm pillowed behind his head, seemingly still in light sleep. Hearing the commotion, as if reluctantly, he opened his eyes and looked sideways.

Seeing this, Shen Qianzhan stepped aside to make way for the girl behind her: “Taking your temperature to see if the fever’s gone down.”

Ji Qinghe’s eyes were slightly closed, seemingly acquiescing.

The girl set down her medical kit, took out a forehead thermometer, and asked while measuring: “How are you feeling now?”

“Headache.” Ji Qinghe opened his eyes, his gaze passing over the girl to land on Shen Qianzhan behind her.

The latter stood with hands clasped behind her back, like conducting an inspection, scanning him from head to toe: “Where are Su Zan and Ming Jue? Why aren’t they in the room?”

“Went to pick up the vehicle.” Ji Qinghe sat up. “Ming Jue was worried the highway was still blocked and the vehicle couldn’t get through, so he called Su Zan to go with him.”

Shen Qianzhan was puzzled: “Su Zan can’t carry anything and can’t lift anything. Besides using his mouth to relieve boredom on the road, what help could he be to Ming Jue?”

Ji Qinghe seemed to chuckle, the sound extremely faint: “Not being here is helping, isn’t it?”

The girl taking Ji Qinghe’s temperature for the third time nearly shook her hand. She silently lowered her face, recorded the data in her notebook, and seized the moment to quickly conclude: “The fever hasn’t broken yet. Fever medicine still needs to be taken on time. Don’t catch cold, don’t get wind exposure. I’ll come again tonight.”

She put away the thermometer and when closing the medical kit, thought for a moment and said: “Actually, if conditions allow, it’s best to go to the hospital for an IV drip—it works faster.” But in the current situation, walking from one end of the street to the other was difficult, and they didn’t even know if the hospital had staff working.

Shen Qianzhan had also considered this. Seeing her pack up the medical kit to leave, she personally escorted her a few steps.

After seeing the person to the door, Shen Qianzhan stopped, watching the other leave via the stairwell before turning back.

Ji Qinghe’s mental state wasn’t very good. His complexion lacked vitality, with tired azure shadows under his eyelids, looking rather pitiable.

Shen Qianzhan took care of him as he took his medicine, but unfortunately with the hotel’s power and water outages, the mineral water couldn’t be heated and remained cold. Feeding a sick person cold water made her conscience uneasy. She was thinking the hotel should have hot water boiled with coal and was about to go downstairs to fetch some.

Unexpectedly, before she could voice this, Ji Qinghe cut her off: “Up so early—did you sleep enough?”

“No.” Shen Qianzhan calculated the half hour she spent from lying down to closing her eyes after returning to her room: “Barely closed my eyes for a bit.”

If she weren’t worried about his fever, she could have slept until the afternoon meeting.

Seeing her look ready to leave at any moment, Ji Qinghe imperceptibly changed the subject: “What are the standards for crew hotel rentals?”

Shen Qianzhan suspected he was complaining about the poor environment here. After thinking, she said: “That depends on the person.”

Ji Qinghe moved to the side of the bed and patted the empty space on the bed edge, signaling her to come sit and talk.

This action was too natural—Shen Qianzhan almost uncontrollably sat down.

To cover her embarrassment, she looked around, pretending to just notice that Ji Qinghe was sleeping on the narrowest folding bed in the room, deliberately asking affectedly: “How could Su Zan and Ming Jue bear to let President Ji sleep on this small bed?”

“Think the bed’s too small?” Ji Qinghe’s eyes deepened slightly, chuckling lowly: “Switching to a bigger one isn’t impossible either.”

Damn man, really seized every opportunity to be improper.

Shen Qianzhan didn’t respond to his words or follow his intent. After her eyes wandered around and she couldn’t find the armchair discovered yesterday, she could only disdainfully pull back Su Zan’s crumpled bedding and sit on the bed edge.

Ji Qinghe’s intention was to keep her a while longer. Seeing this, he wasn’t annoyed at all: “You just said it depends on the person? How so?”

“First look at investors—the more money investors provide, the more flexible the producer’s budget. Second look at actors. Whether filming TV or movies, there’s a long shooting cycle. A-list actors requesting five-star hotels or resort villas is common, and once agreed upon, it must be delivered. But besides actors, everyone else from directors and producers to crew workers will choose separately affordable, economical hotels.” She hooked a strand of loose hair by her temple, saying: “Someone as stingy and poor as me chooses hotels similar to this one.”

Ji Qinghe had chatted with Su Zan all night, discussing everything shallowly yet covering everything. Whether about Shen Qianzhan or the producer profession, he had learned much. Hearing this, he followed her words, throwing out leading questions.

Shen Qianzhan was naturally good at conversation.

Especially after last night’s discussion, her attitude toward Ji Qinghe had obviously changed considerably.

With both in peaceful states, Shen Qianzhan unexpectedly discovered that setting aside her wariness and prejudices against Ji Qinghe, he was an excellent conversationalist—both able to listen patiently and effectively offer opinions.

For example, regarding the current difficulties faced by “Spring River,” though Ji Qinghe didn’t approach from a producer’s perspective, the strategic self-rescue plan he proposed from a business angle was very feasible—reducing filming costs by choosing long-term development with partners to ease the current financial constraints.

“The snow won’t last much longer.” Ji Qinghe played with his phone, saying lowly: “After this cold front passes, temperatures will rise. Recovery of the disaster area is inevitable.”

Just before the afternoon meeting, Su Zan finally returned.

Seeing Shen Qianzhan talking with Ji Qinghe in his room didn’t seem strange to him. While guzzling down a bottle of water, he breathlessly shared the heart-stopping moment he’d encountered today: “Snow collapsed an advertising sign, those rusted iron frames nearly crashed onto the car. If I hadn’t braked in time, President Ji’s BMW would have been a one-way trip.”

Ming Jue was much more refined than Su Zan. Mindful of Shen Qianzhan’s presence, he maintained considerable restraint, keeping appropriate distance in both speech and positioning: “It wasn’t as thrilling as he makes it sound. In fact, if Young Master Su hadn’t braked, the entire car might have been perfectly fine.”

Only then did Ji Qinghe glance at both of them, asking: “What happened to the car?”

Ming Jue replied: “After Young Master Su’s emergency brake, the wheels skidded, spun half a circle in place, and shattered the headlight.”

Hearing this narrative tone clearly painting him as the perpetrator, Su Zan feared Ji Qinghe would demand compensation and quickly cleared himself: “With such a huge advertising sign crashing down, who could calmly continue driving forward? Didn’t you see the snow kicked up was almost as thick as an avalanche? If you gunned it and charged in at that moment, it wouldn’t just be a broken headlight—that would be a rear-end collision!”

Ming Jue glanced at him, rarely showing a disdainful expression due to their disagreement.

Su Zan’s little mouth kept chattering to clear his name: “The supply truck was right behind our car. If we had rear-ended, could the supply truck have escaped? Besides, such a huge advertising sign—who knows how many steel bars, how many tons of weight.”

Shen Qianzhan had no patience to listen to them argue to a conclusion. She patted Su Zan’s shoulder, interrupting: “Whoever holds the steering wheel is responsible. Any objections?”

Su Zan’s expression immediately drooped: “Zhan-zhan, you have no heart! Are we discussing who’s responsible? We’re discussing the technical aspects of stress response!”

Fine, she was being nosy.

Shen Qianzhan patted her bottom and left without looking back.

During the afternoon meeting, when Shen Qianzhan presented the plan she and Ji Qinghe had discussed during their morning chat, reactions were varied.

Shen Qianzhan proposed signing long-term contracts with the film city to reduce “Spring River’s” venue rental fees, or using investment and shareholding arrangements to have the film base waive rental fees in exchange for profit sharing.

Some were wary of Su Lanyi, some questioned the strategy’s feasibility, and others disdained the film city’s scale as insufficient for filming needs.

Shen Qianzhan was just offering suggestions—the decision-maker was Xiao Sheng, not her.

Letting these people argue chaotically and deliberate repeatedly, she borrowed Song Yan’s assistant’s game console and played Snake all afternoon.

After the meeting, “Spring River’s” director stopped Shen Qianzhan to provide information: “The empty lot at the southeast corner of the film city adjacent to the Republican Street is setting up scenes. The set is half-built. I heard Producer Xiao say you’re preparing a tribute drama—you could take a look there sometime, might be suitable.”

Shen Qianzhan casually agreed. Once the person left, she looked back for Su Zan to return together.

Around eight that evening, just as Shen Qianzhan finished washing up with that pitiful bit of daily water, her door was knocked.

Ji Qinghe stood outside, opening with a farewell statement she couldn’t refuse him entry for: “I’m going back tomorrow.”

Shen Qianzhan was somewhat surprised: “Isn’t the car broken?”

“That’s why I’m leaving early.” Ji Qinghe leaned against the doorway, asking: “Won’t you let me in to share heartfelt feelings?”

Shen Qianzhan rolled her eyes, turned and entered the room, leaving him to do as he pleased.

Unsurprisingly, as soon as she entered, Ji Qinghe followed and closed the door.

Having learned from yesterday’s lesson, Shen Qianzhan remained fully dressed after washing. With the hotel’s power and water outages, there wasn’t much to offer. She pushed over the fruit Su Zan had brought in the evening, leaning against the table corner herself with her bottom half against the table surface, picking up fruit slices while watching him: “Fever gone?”

“Low fever.” He sat in the chair, took her hand, and put the fruit in his mouth.

Shen Qianzhan, forced to feed him a piece of fruit, immediately laughed with anger: “Do you have no shame?”

The room was lit with an aromatic candle, the light source dim as withered grass that could extinguish at any moment.

Ji Qinghe raised his eyes slightly, his gaze falling on her bright face that even darkness couldn’t hide, smiling: “Could be even more shameless.”

Shen Qianzhan glared at him. Eye-killing him wasn’t enough—she raised her hand to pinch, from the back of his hand to his wrist, pinching wherever it would hurt most.

Ji Qinghe didn’t find it painful. Her bit of strength was like tickling to him. Each touch of skin was like sparks bursting from a campfire, setting fires and creating smoke everywhere.

Initially he indulged her tantrum, but gradually, inappropriate bad thoughts arose in his heart. He reversed his grip to clasp her wrist, controlling her so she couldn’t move. His fingertips rested on her wrist, feeling her pulse beating beneath his fingertips. Ji Qinghe brought her wrist to his lips and bit down.

The force was too much. Shen Qianzhan hissed, and in that hiss he looked up, meeting her eyes: “Su Zan said the male actors in the crew all look very much to your taste. Is this true?”

He asked unhurriedly, each word clearly enunciated, not like curiosity but more like interrogation. From the relentless pressure in his eyes to the cold sharp teeth guarding her wrist, Shen Qianzhan immediately understood and denied: “No.”

Ji Qinghe raised an eyebrow, seemingly finding her answer too perfunctory and unsatisfied.

Shen Qianzhan almost wanted to cry. Wasn’t this damn man here to say farewell? This was fucking interrogation, wasn’t it?

“Really not.” Shen Qianzhan said: “I’ve only been here a few days. Besides the producer, director, and finance people, I haven’t seen a single man.”

Ji Qinghe smiled: “Sounds quite regrettable?”

“How could it be?” Shen Qianzhan’s suspended toes brushed his calf, saying: “Who here could compare to you?”

Ji Qinghe avoided her touch, stood up, and grasped the aromatic candle as he leaned forward. The candlelight rendered her features soft and gentle, her no-longer-aggressive eyes tender, writing “come bully me” from inside out.

He steadied himself and asked again: “Do restless people often come knocking on your door at midnight?”

Shen Qianzhan made a sound, thinking for several seconds: “Shouldn’t this question be answered in two steps?”

Ji Qinghe looked at her silently without saying a word.

Shen Qianzhan interpreted his gaze as “let’s hear your fabrication,” saying: “Coming to knock at midnight is the first half, whether to open the door or respond is the second half. You can’t mix two questions into one thing…” to ask.

Before finishing her words, sharp pain shot through her wrist. The damn man bit when he said he’d bite, showing no mercy.

Shen Qianzhan’s eyes reddened from pain. She lifted her foot to kick his calf, missed, and as soon as she moved, he forced her legs apart and pinned her immobile.

Ji Qinghe showed no tender mercy, his voice slightly deep with some hoarseness, seeming to laugh yet seeming to endure: “Be honest.”

“No, no one knocked.” Shen Qianzhan lowered her eyes, looking at her wrist with an extremely aggrieved expression: “Why did you really bite?”

As soon as she finished speaking, before the heat had dissipated, knocking sounds rang out.

Shen Qianzhan was instantly dumbfounded.

No way?

She usually at most just bullied Su Zan a bit—she hadn’t done anything unconscionable!

Under Ji Qinghe’s increasingly dangerous gaze, Shen Qianzhan bit the bullet to explain: “Probably a hotel service worker.”

The next second, a male voice rang out melodiously: “Producer Shen, open the door.”

Shen Qianzhan: “…”

Damn, tonight was really going to be soaked.