The man knocking at the door seemed rather puzzled why Shen Qianzhan wasn’t in her room at this hour. He made a sound of confusion, turned around, and left.

Shen Qianzhan heard the footsteps gradually fade away from the doorway. She bit her lower lip and glanced at Ji Qinghe.

Look how innocent she appeared.

Ji Qinghe was also gazing back at her, his eyes more naked and raw, like a cluster of flames hidden in a fireplace, the fire swaying gracefully, burning bright red.

In fact, his pitch-black pupils did indeed reflect the candlelight.

The delicate fragrance of pear blossoms followed the flame, thread by thread, drifting out from the candle wax.

“He’s gone.” Shen Qianzhan’s gaze drifted toward the door. “Good thing there’s been no signal these past few days, otherwise the entire crew would know that I’m neither in my own room nor anywhere to be found.”

She gently pushed his shoulder with her fingertips: “Don’t believe every rumor you hear. Wait until you personally join a crew and you’ll know—the atmosphere in production teams is actually quite good. Who would have nothing better to do than wander around knocking on doors all day, creating gossip material?”

Ji Qinghe didn’t move.

He placed the scented candle on the windowsill. As the firelight shifted, the two clusters of dim flames in his eyes seemed to extinguish, leaving only an ancient well-like silence: “Do I look that easy to dismiss?”

Shen Qianzhan shook her head, denying this question with genuine sincerity and heartfelt emotion: “You don’t just look it—you really are very difficult to dismiss.”

Ji Qinghe pretended to bite again. The moment his teeth touched her wrist, Shen Qianzhan immediately changed her tune: “No, I was just talking nonsense.” She struggled a bit but couldn’t break free. From her expression to her eyes, everything radiated a gloomy helplessness: “President Ji, you’re the same age as your nephew Ji Lin this year, aren’t you?”

“I wish I could be.” This time Ji Qinghe finally released her. That hand fell back, supporting himself on the table surface behind her. “When they knocked on your door, what did they all chat with you about, hmm?”

Shen Qianzhan didn’t answer. She lowered her head and looked sideways, making eye contact with Ji Qinghe for two seconds before asking: “Then what are you trying to find out from me by asking this, hmm?”

A few strands of hair at her temples fell down as she tilted her head. The silky strands were like dark feathers, making Shen Qianzhan’s complexion appear fair and white, transparent as congealed cream.

Ji Qinghe’s gaze fell on her slightly upturned lips. Her lips were somewhat dry, not the bright red color, but slightly pale, like faded artificial flowers.

His Adam’s apple rolled slightly, and he suddenly asked an unrelated question: “How much longer until Time starts filming?”

Shen Qianzhan was caught off guard by the question. Her brow furrowed slightly as she mentally calculated the schedule: “Two months at the latest.”

Once the script outline was finalized, the screenplay would follow quickly. The director and production crew were all ready-made, so assembling the team would take no time at all. Plus, these were people she was accustomed to working with—no need for any adjustment period.

She just needed to use this gap to scout filming locations. By the time the script was nearly ready, they could start filming.

Ji Qinghe said nothing.

Thinking he felt it was too slow, Shen Qianzhan explained: “The slowest phase for any crew is finalizing the script—this is basically the most time-consuming part of pre-production. Once the script is set, all the subsequent processes can concentrate their efforts, and filming actually becomes the stage where you can most visibly see progress.”

Besides, she also had time constraints. As a tribute drama, if they missed the tribute timing for broadcast, what would be the point?

Though Shen Qianzhan wondered why he suddenly brought up filming, she didn’t forget that Ji Qinghe was the investor daddy, so she answered whatever he asked.

Just as she was waiting for his response, Ji Qinghe smiled. Being so close, his facial advantages were magnified to the extreme. Shen Qianzhan was dazzled by this smile. By the time she came back to her senses, he had curved his finger and lightly scratched the tip of her nose, saying: “Then when I come knocking on your door in the middle of the night two months from now, even if you don’t answer, I’ll already know what you’ve been chatting about.”

Shen Qianzhan was initially taken aback, but after staring at Ji Qinghe for a while, she found it amusing, and in the end, she really did laugh. She leaned against his arm, only her eyes showing, her lips pressed together as she asked him in a half-laughing, half-breathy tone: “What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“As soon as I wake up.” Ji Qinghe looked down at her, and even he himself didn’t notice that his tone had softened considerably: “Confirming your safety and delivering supplies—I should have left today.”

Shen Qianzhan blinked and didn’t respond.

Ji Qinghe didn’t want to say more either. He changed the subject and asked her: “When are you returning to Beijing?”

“In a few more days.” Shen Qianzhan turned to look out the window. Fog had condensed on the glass, and she raised her hand to wipe away a patch, peering through the wet moisture at the pitch-black streets: “Su Zan and I are like imperial inspectors—having come here, we need to get the job done properly, or we’ll get scolded when we go back.”

“But we can’t stay too long either and neglect our own affairs.” These past two days, her phone had been like scrap metal, unable to contact the outside world. She had rarely had such peace of mind to make herself a schedule.

After returning to Beijing, she needed to finalize the director and focus on the script.

Shao Chouxie had expressed interest in collaborating. Securing him wouldn’t be difficult—with the script outline and first episode basically done, they could confirm everything. The rest would be scouting filming locations and extending invitations to the main cast.

With Ji Qinghe around, she didn’t even need to worry about securing investment. Just submit a proposal upward, and the funding could be in place immediately.

Thinking of this, Shen Qianzhan suddenly remembered the Xi’an trip: “About Master Ji, remember to help me explain. Once I’m done here, we’ll set a time?”

This trip to Wuxi had already exceeded Ji Qinghe’s expected gains, making the Xi’an trip seem less important in comparison.

“Up to you.” He said quietly: “When you’re ready, just let me know.”

Shen Qianzhan agreed: “Tomorrow I’ll have Su Zan come over to see me, and he and I will see you off together…”

Before she could finish her sentence, footsteps returned.

The hotel’s soundproofing was too poor. She instinctively fell silent, looking alertly toward the door.

Sure enough, the footsteps stopped at her door. Regular knocking sounds rang out. This time the person outside was much more composed. After knocking a few times, he identified himself: “Producer Shen, this is Xiao Sheng. I have something to discuss with you.”

Xiao Sheng?

Shen Qianzhan couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows. She glanced at Ji Qinghe, sat up a bit straighter, and called out to Xiao Sheng outside: “I just went to bed and it’s not very convenient. Is it an urgent matter?”

Hearing that she had just gone to bed, Xiao Sheng hesitated for a few seconds before saying: “It is somewhat urgent, so I’ll wait outside for a moment.”

Shen Qianzhan: “???”

Wait, this means he still wants to come in for a private conversation?

She suddenly looked toward Ji Qinghe, her eyes clearly conveying: “Lover, maybe you should hide first?”