Bitten you.

Bitten you…

Bitten you?

How he bit her… Shen Qianzhan knew perfectly well.

A strange sense of shame shot straight from her feet to the top of her head.

Shen Qianzhan jerked back her finger that had already approved the verification, as if afraid of contracting an infectious virus, throwing her phone far away.

Did heaven arrange for her to meet Ji Qinghe just to make her deeply comprehend how vast and all-encompassing Chinese characters truly were?

She cursed under her breath as she lifted the covers and lay down, preparing to sleep.

It was now one in the morning—her beauty sleep time had been severely reduced by a third.

The moment she closed her eyes, the bedside lamp glowed dimly like fireflies, scattered starlight burning her eyelids with mild heat.

The corridor echoed with inconsiderate noise from late-returning travelers, buzzing and rumbling through the door.

Shen Qianzhan opened her eyes in irritation. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window she faced, a half-crescent moon hung in the sky, shining alongside the stars.

She watched for a while, then propped herself up on her elbow and reached to fish out her phone stuck in the bed crack, switching to WeChat while comforting herself: It’s fine, it’s fine. This isn’t bowing down or compromising to dark forces—it’s just for survival and making a living.

Shen Qianzhan approved Ji Qinghe’s friend request in one breath, then went to set his group and note.

The note was simple. She deeply felt Ji Qinghe didn’t even deserve the two characters for “man,” so she directly picked a dog head emoji from the system’s built-in input method and stuck it on.

After doing this, she finally felt relieved. After sighing deeply at the moon, she extinguished all light sources in the room and finally went to sleep peacefully.

Shen Qianzhan slept until the sun was high, feeling physically exhausted and weary.

Rubbing her sore waist, she first reached for her bedside phone.

Qiao Xin had invited her to breakfast at eight in the morning, but she’d been sleeping in tender dreams then, completely oblivious, let alone able to respond.

She glanced at the time displayed at the top of her phone screen.

Good, she hadn’t woken too late—just in time for lunch.

While getting up, she browsed through messages.

After clearing her Moments and message list completely, still not seeing anything from Ji Qinghe, she raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips slightly.

Whether the damn man was too embarrassed to initiate contact or was too arrogant and waiting for her to greet him first—these speculations churned in her mind several times. After brushing her teeth and changing clothes, she called Qiao Xin to go out for a meal together.

The main task of this business trip was already complete. Shen Qianzhan had Qiao Xin check flight tickets after lunch, preparing to return.

“Meeting with screenwriters on the 20th, dinner with the director on the evening of the 22nd,” Qiao Xin said while eating and scrolling through her phone. “Sister Zhan, should we take tomorrow’s noon flight back to Beijing? Tomorrow we have no schedule at all, just need to meet with screenwriters the day after. Since there’s no rush to get back, let’s arrange the timing more relaxed.”

Shen Qianzhan hated dealing with trivial matters. Qiao Xin’s words went in one ear and out the other, not processing at all: “Just arrange it as you see fit.”

Qiao Xin began muttering calculations about hotel-to-airport timing. When the restaurant’s background music switched from bright melody to a darker tone, there were a few seconds of brief silence.

Shen Qianzhan heard her little planner mumbling: “Sister Zhan can’t wake up before ten, supervising Sister Zhan to pack takes an hour, helping check for anything missed takes ten minutes, moving luggage about ten minutes. Optimistically, assuming we can depart before checking out at twelve…”

Shen Qianzhan: “…”

She put down her chopsticks, about to defend herself, when her phone on the table vibrated lightly with an incoming message.

She seemed to have a premonition. With elegant composure, she drew a napkin to dab the corners of her lips, then slowly swiped open the WeChat message.

It was from Su Zan.

—Sister Zhan, when are you coming back?

Shen Qianzhan rolled her eyes. Usually he wasn’t this diligent in his greetings. When she didn’t want to see them, why did only demons and monsters appear?

Just as she was about to put down her phone, the ringtone sounded—an unknown caller.

Shen Qianzhan casually answered with a cold “Hello,” her displeasure as obvious as Beijing’s December winds—seemingly warm but revealing their hidden blade only when met head-on, cutting through skin and bone.

The other end paused, waiting two seconds before asking: “Who provoked you?”

Shen Qianzhan’s finger stirring her coffee stopped, and she froze.

She looked at the string of unfamiliar numbers on her phone screen, recalling the familiar voice that had just reached her ears, her heart seeming to skip a beat.

“Ji Qinghe?”

Shen Qianzhan raised an eyebrow: “Where did you get my number?”

“Su Zan gave it.” The voice on the other end was clear and gentle. “When are you coming back?”

Shen Qianzhan glanced at Qiao Xin, who was still calculating departure times, and got up to move to the corridor to take the call: “Not decided yet. Something wrong?”

She was calm, but Ji Qinghe was even more composed: “Meng Wanzhou’s watch collectors association has an activity on Friday. Would like to invite you to participate.”

Shen Qianzhan’s expression instantly cracked slightly. She really wanted to ask Ji Qinghe if his first phone call to her across thousands of miles was for such a trivial matter?

But reason told her to hold back.

Who knew if this was another trap Ji Qinghe had set.

She counted on her fingers—tomorrow was Friday.

According to Qiao Xin’s plan, they’d take tomorrow’s noon flight back to Beijing, definitely too late.

Shen Qianzhan rubbed her throbbing temples and asked: “What activity?”

Ji Qinghe: “Visiting the Palace Museum’s clock and watch gallery.”

Shen Qianzhan scoffed: “I’ve already been to the Palace Museum’s clock gallery four times.”

Ji Qinghe calmly raised the stakes: “I’ll provide commentary from the side. Tomorrow there will also be a Qing Dynasty clock from the Qianlong era, on loan from Nanjing Museum for touring exhibition. It just arrived in Beijing from Xi’an and will only be displayed for a week.”

Shen Qianzhan remained unmoved: “Then going back the day after tomorrow would still be in time.”

The other end was silent for several seconds, then suddenly changed topics: “Does Producer Shen know about the reputational damage your company’s artist caused me?”

Here it comes, here it comes—the retaliation and settling of scores had finally arrived.

Shen Qianzhan perked up and answered: “I’ve heard something about it, but I’m just a small producer. If President Ji wants to know how the company is handling it, I suggest calling PR or the artist’s management directly.”

Ji Qinghe made a noncommittal “mm” sound, then asked: “Then on a personal level, does Producer Shen have any remedial measures for this crisis causing the breakdown of cooperation between both parties?”

Shen Qianzhan was caught off guard by the question. Gripping her phone, her entire spine unconsciously straightened: “When did we ever cooperate…”

Before the last word could land, Shen Qianzhan suddenly realized and cut herself off in time.

She chewed over Ji Qinghe’s last sentence repeatedly, and after confirming she hadn’t misunderstood, her eyes widened in disbelief: “President Ji?”

Ji Qinghe gave a soft “mm,” the low trailing tone like a released kite, pulled by his voice to ripple across the lake of Shen Qianzhan’s heart, then floating and swaying gracefully all the way.

Eek.

Happiness came a bit suddenly.

Shen Qianzhan cleared her throat, about to unleash her full-level flattery skills to give Ji Qinghe a comprehensive baptism of praise. But just as the words reached her lips, experience accumulated from years of struggling in the industry suddenly made her previously surging heart lake become still as stagnant water.

Something was wrong.

Things shouldn’t be that simple.

Shen Qianzhan looked at the tide lines outside the window, instantly sobering up. She carefully asked in a small voice: “Are you really together with Xiang Qianqian?”

Ji Qinghe fell silent.

Shen Qianzhan waited a few seconds, then added quietly: “Otherwise, with you looking so eager to compensate me, my conscience feels very uneasy.”

Ji Qinghe seemed to laugh.

Through the phone, though his expression couldn’t be seen, Ji Qinghe’s laugh mixed with disdain and mockery felt tangible, pouring down on her head.

Even separated by thousands of miles, with no face-to-face confrontation, Shen Qianzhan still felt the intensely oppressive low pressure through the phone.

She touched her cool nape, vaguely feeling that… Ji Qinghe’s hard-won agreement to cooperate was about to fall through again.

At this critical moment, driven by a producer’s acute crisis response, Shen Qianzhan immediately reversed: “I think this matter is too important and must be discussed face-to-face. Wait for me, I’ll be back tonight.”

What responded to her was the cold sound of hanging up from the other end.

Shen Qianzhan blinked. Was that agreement or disagreement?

Evening flights to Beijing were sold out, so Qiao Xin could only reluctantly book the 7 PM high-speed train.

The originally relaxed and leisurely time that could have included sightseeing was suddenly insufficient. The two hurriedly returned to the hotel to pack. Fortunately, this business trip wasn’t long, so Shen Qianzhan didn’t have much luggage.

After checking out and departing, there was still ample time.

Su Zan learned from Qiao Xin that Shen Qianzhan was suddenly rushing back to Beijing and was quite surprised. Calculating the timing, he sent condolences to Shen Qianzhan who was already on the train: “Sister Zhan, chat for fifty cents?”

Shen Qianzhan replied: “No good, minimum charge is five yuan.”

The next second, Shen Qianzhan received a 200-yuan red packet from Su Zan: “Then let’s chat for forty rounds.”

Since the other party showed such sincerity, Shen Qianzhan didn’t hide anything: “I got a call from Ji Qinghe. He asked if I had any remedial measures for this crisis causing the breakdown of cooperation between both parties…”

Su Zan’s shock was written all over his words: “!!!”

He asked: “I’ve opened my diamond-studded titanium alloy dog eyes wide and examined the question three times carefully—President Ji relented and is willing to cooperate?”

Shen Qianzhan tapped the armrest and replied: “Mm.”

Su Zan: “So you’re rushing back to sign the contract?”

Just as he was about to add “Congratulations, congratulations, this young master can lie back and collect dividends again next year,” having typed only half the characters, Shen Qianzhan’s side replied: “No, rushing back to apologize.”

Su Zan: “???”

Why must life be such a roller coaster of ups and downs?

In comparison, Shen Qianzhan was much calmer. She said: “I asked him if he was really together with Xiang Qianqian, and if he decided to cooperate out of compensation.”

Su Zan felt a bit hopeless, jabbing at his keyboard in a burst of output: “What compensation from President Ji? Not to mention he has no relationship with Qianqian whatsoever—even if there were compensation to be made, you should be compensating him!”

Shen Qianzhan was confused, slowly typing a question mark.

“You were the one who tricked him into bed, right?”

“You were the one who slept with him seven or eight times, turning him every which way, right?”

“You were the one who patted your butt and left after sleeping, right?”

“Tell me, aren’t you scummy?”

“For a scumbag like you, President Ji is both investing and serving as consultant—what’s he after?”

Shen Qianzhan really wanted to reply “Maybe he’s after how good I am in bed,” but it was too direct—she felt a bit shy.

She pondered what to reply to boost morale when the “other party is typing” indicator in the chat box disappeared, and Su Zan sent: “But your current situation is particularly like an after-sales dispute.”

“The seller operates on a no-returns policy, while the buyer wants to extend the usage warranty period.”

“President Ji is the buyer, and you are the seller.”

Shen Qianzhan sent back a bloody “Where’s my knife” emoji.

Su Zan propped his chin, very worriedly summarizing: “Based on male intuition, I think President Ji has ulterior motives toward you. My Sister Zhan’s romantic history might end beneath this great man.”

Shen Qianzhan read Su Zan’s sentence twice.

She was very dissatisfied with Su Zan’s use of “beneath”: “Why am I the one beneath?”

Su Zan: “Wait, are you two really that explosive?”