Shen Qianzhan had been played by someone, and with her fury attacking her heart, she didn’t sleep well all night.
Early the next morning, she picked out a set of unused cosmetics from her still-unpacked suitcase and spent a full hour doing her makeup in front of the mirror.
Concealer, brightening, highlighting—she didn’t skip a single step, creating a perfectly flawless no-makeup makeup look.
When she arrived at the company, it wasn’t even mealtime yet. Shen Qianzhan bought a cup of americano from the coffee shop downstairs and swiped her card to enter the building.
Qiandeng Pictures was a very humane company, and employees on business trips mostly received vacation compensation. However, this benefit was like empty talk for Shen Qianzhan—everyone except her got it.
The moment Shen Qianzhan stepped out of the elevator, her assistant Qiao Xin was already waiting at the door with a schedule in hand.
Besides having a meeting today, she also had an appointment with a screenwriter at three in the afternoon for a trial script.
After hearing the work arrangements for the past two days, Shen Qianzhan nodded slightly and turned to scan the office area: “Where’s Su Zan?”
Qiao Xin froze, remembering Su Zan’s panicked escape scene after hearing the front desk’s warning. With eyes on nose and nose on heart, she chose to betray him: “He heard you were coming and hid upstairs.”
Shen Qianzhan followed her assistant’s secretly pointing gesture and glanced at the ceiling, saying expressionlessly: “If he doesn’t want me to tear down the ceiling, he better get his ass down here.”
Qiao Xin responded with a yes, watched Shen Qianzhan enter her office, then took out her phone to send Su Zan a WeChat message: “Little Boss Su, how did you offend Sister Zhan again?”
Su Zan’s reply came quickly: “She’s going through menopause, easily irritable and angry. What’s that got to do with me?”
Qiao Xin held her phone and bit her finger, sighing helplessly: When immortals fight, mortals suffer. After thinking it over, she tactfully conveyed the order: “Sister Zhan is eager to see you. Why don’t you bring Zhou Yan and hurry over?”
Su Zan: “…”
He felt that Zhou Yan alone might… not be enough.
Joking aside, Su Zan didn’t dare disobey Shen Qianzhan’s orders.
After dawdling for half an hour, he clutched a stack of freshly printed Baidu encyclopedia pages and entered Shen Qianzhan’s office with the heavy-hearted mood of someone attending a funeral.
The latter was eating a salad, reluctantly and with obvious disgust.
The little heart in Su Zan’s chest sank a few more points.
He shuffled forward and pulled out a chair to sit down.
Seeing him present the documents like a sacrificial offering, Shen Qianzhan raised an eyebrow and teased: “What’s wrong, is my office so hot that you can’t stand staying for even a moment?”
Su Zan didn’t know whether to smile or not, finally forcing out a smile more awkward than crying: “I searched all night when I got back yesterday. Never mind finding someone who knows President Ji, no one around me even knows that Bu Zhong Sui has a China Regional Executive Director.” He looked pitiful: “Sister Zhan, we didn’t encounter some paranormal event, did we?”
Shen Qianzhan glanced at the thick stack of documents beside her: “Since you couldn’t find this person, how did you manage to compile such a thick book?”
“I printed you a copy of Bu Zhong Sui’s brand history, related products, and background stories.” Su Zan presented it like a treasure, flipping to the fifty-seventh page where he had folded a corner: “Look at this, this is an exclusive interview with Old Master Ji.”
Shen Qianzhan put down her fork, pulled out a tissue to elegantly dab the corners of her lips, and looked down.
Old Master Ji’s exclusive interviews were few and far between. The one Su Zan had compiled was published in a fashion magazine on the day the Suimu series watches were released.
Calling it an exclusive interview, this text occupied only a pitiful small section among the full-page watch photos and descriptions. It covered the design inspiration and philosophy of the Suimu series watches, as well as the reporter’s question about Old Master Ji’s view on the world’s regret that his watchmaking and restoration skills had no successor.
Ji Qingzhen’s answer was vague. He neither mentioned Ji Qinghe nor answered directly, only expressing hope that all traditional craftsman skills could continue to be passed down, and that the Suimu series under Bu Zhong Sui would maintain his personal style while continuously promoting the refinement and wisdom of traditional craftsmanship.
Shen Qianzhan scanned it back and forth several times and looked up: “That’s it?”
Su Zan made an “ah” sound: “That’s it.”
Shen Qianzhan’s voice instantly rose several degrees: “Nothing else?”
Su Zan: “…Nothing else.”
Shen Qianzhan rubbed her temples with a headache: “I asked you to find information related to Ji Qinghe, not to show me the fine virtues of the Chinese nation.”
She spread her hands and settled for the next best thing: “Contact information? You at least found that, right?”
Su Zan squirmed and hesitated for a long time before letting out a fart: “Does Bu Zhong Sui’s official work contact email count…”
Shen Qianzhan pointed toward the door: “Get out.”
Since Su Zan was unreliable, Shen Qianzhan had to roll up her sleeves and do it herself.
Ji Qinghe’s personal information was very well protected. Whether on Bu Zhong Sui’s official website or Baidu encyclopedia, there was indeed no trace of this person.
The only search result related to Ji Qinghe was a romance novel.
Shen Qianzhan glanced at it and closed her computer expressionlessly.
Getting Ji Qinghe’s contact information was actually simple—find Jiang Yecheng.
But it would inevitably lead to interrogation.
Ai Yi was right. Jiang Yecheng’s desire to collaborate with Ji Qinghe was urgent and fervent. He wouldn’t be understanding about whatever reasons Shen Qianzhan had for not wanting to cooperate with Bu Zhong Sui; he would only keep applying pressure to achieve his goal.
Since she hadn’t reached a dead end yet, she felt… she could still struggle a bit more.
After the meeting and syncing up on Qiandeng’s recent project progress, Shen Qianzhan immediately met with the screenwriter for the trial script.
The screenwriter Lin Qiao, twenty-six years old, Beijing native. She owned a courtyard house in the first ring, lived without worries about food and drink, and led a comfortable life.
A few years ago, when Shen Qianzhan had just switched to Qiandeng Pictures, the first project she worked on was based on Lin Qiao’s original script. Later, as Qiandeng developed, Lin Qiao, who had an established collaborative foundation, almost became Qiandeng’s exclusive screenwriter. In eight or nine out of ten projects that Shen Qianzhan produced, you could see Lin Qiao’s name in the credits.
The tribute drama was too big and difficult a cake to bite into. Shen Qianzhan originally hadn’t considered Lin Qiao, wanting to invite an experienced veteran screenwriter to form a writing team. But Lin Qiao self-recommended and fought for the opportunity, so Shen Qianzhan figured the writing team couldn’t be entirely made up of screenwriters she’d never worked with before, and gave her a chance to try.
The young woman was clear-headed about not being able to be the head screenwriter. Before leaving, she said this to Shen Qianzhan: “Sister Zhan, I’m free during this period. If you’re holding script planning meetings, you can call me. I might be able to give you some fresh opinions, and I’d like to learn from the senior screenwriters too. If you’re worried, I’ll sign a confidentiality agreement and promise to keep my mouth sealed tight.”
Shen Qianzhan was reading her script outline and, without looking up, said: “Weren’t you planning to go to Japan soon according to your social media?”
“Oh.” Lin Qiao spoke honestly: “How can going to Japan compare to the importance of this opportunity?”
“By the way.” She remembered something and sat back down, “Last time didn’t you ask where I get my material? I want to recommend an app to you. It’s very niche and obscure, but particularly useful for word workers like us who especially need other people’s life experiences and work experiences.”
She sat back down and presented it like a treasure, recommending an app—Hangjia.
“This one. You can book one-on-one consultations with experts from any profession or field.”
Shen Qianzhan looked at it with some curiosity, her expression doubtful.
Seeing her disbelief, Lin Qiao pulled up her consultation order history: “Look, for the last script about the female legal devil, I found this strategist. And before that, psychological counselor, HR from financial listed companies, senior market managers for big data products from certain East and certain Treasure companies…”
“Su Zan also registered an account. I even took screenshots and saved them.” She switched to her photo album and showed her the image.
With this glance, Shen Qianzhan almost vomited blood.
Su Zan—Film Industry Agent, Senior Rich Second Generation. Expertise: Creating and managing internet celebrities, how to squander family fortune, daily life of rich second generations, how to become a professional money-spender rich second generation.
Lin Qiao rarely found someone to gossip with, blinked her eyes, and gestured for her to look at the consultation data below: “600 yuan per consultation session, and more than twenty people actually booked consultations.”
Shen Qianzhan smiled, a polite yet not lacking in awkwardness smile: “Su Zan’s brain isn’t working well. Stay away from him in the future.”
After Lin Qiao left, Shen Qianzhan registered a guest account.
“Hangjia” featured various professions. Even a profession as niche as watch restoration had a sparse three practitioners.
Shen Qianzhan filtered by region. Only one was located in Beijing—the founder of Time Hall, certified as Vice Chairman of the Beijing Watch Collection Association.
She cautiously checked the reviews, hesitated repeatedly, and booked a one-on-one phone consultation.
Thinking the response wouldn’t come quickly, she set this matter aside temporarily and prepared to leave work.
Unexpectedly.
Just as Shen Qianzhan got in her second-hand BMW and drove onto the elevated highway, Hangjia’s call came through.
She paid the fee, connected to the car’s Bluetooth, and began the call.
The other person’s voice sounded about the same age as her, bright and clear. He first introduced himself, then asked what aspect of watches Shen Qianzhan needed to consult about.
Shen Qianzhan said: “Watch restoration.”
The other person hesitated and asked: “Do you have a broken watch and need to understand restoration content, or do you want me to provide advice or precautions regarding watch restoration?”
Shen Qianzhan’s mind went blank for a moment.
Her purpose was simple—she wanted to find an expert well-versed in this field who could provide professional help and guidance for the project. When the other person detailed the question and asked her specific questions, she suddenly couldn’t think of anything to ask.
While she was hesitating, the other person painfully urged: “Thirty minutes costs 400 yuan. What you’re wasting isn’t just time but also money…”
Shen Qianzhan, accustomed to splurging daily, didn’t feel heartbroken at all. Stuck in rush hour traffic, she said unhurriedly: “Then tell me about the problems watches commonly have.”
The other person was certain she was there to waste time and money, sighed, and answered: “There are many reasons for that. Water damage, dead batteries, or weak watch movement, balance wheel stopping immediately. With mechanical things like this, the biggest problem is simply that time stops running. It’s not always possible to know the cause of the malfunction; you need to disassemble the watch and check the parts to determine how to repair it.”
He muttered: “I’m not an expert in restoration. If you asked me how to appreciate watches or which watches have collection value, these thirty minutes might be worth the ticket price.”
Shen Qianzhan didn’t respond.
At this moment, she was deeply reflecting on why she spent so much time doing something obviously inefficient—no work returns, no inspirational enlightenment.
Indeed, a waste of time and money.
She lost interest and was mentally drafting closing remarks to hang up when the other person suddenly said: “Wait a moment.”
Stuck in traffic with nowhere to go, Shen Qianzhan didn’t mind waiting.
She heard the messy sound of slippers dragging across the floor through the speaker, a wooden door being pushed open, and the phone being handed to another person: “My customer wants to chat about watch restoration. Help me entertain them?”
In the brief silence, Shen Qianzhan didn’t know if she sensed something or if it was due to feminine intuition. Her heart, as if grasped by someone, suddenly suspended.
It wasn’t until the voice on the other end—a young man’s voice carrying some laziness, impatience, and no emotion—rang out that Shen Qianzhan’s heart barely fell, plunging into another bottomless abyss.
Ji Qinghe asked: “Chat about what?”
Not knowing whom he was asking, he clearly had no patience: “If you don’t speak, I’m hanging up.”
Life truly has no place where paths don’t cross.
Shen Qianzhan’s inner activity at this moment was incredibly complex and complicated. If she had to make a comparison, it was like the mood of a field full of grass mud horses having a party… not grass, just mud horses.
Just as she was silently waiting for the other person to hang up, Ji Qinghe paused, and after three seconds of silence, asked: “Shen Qianzhan?”
What the hell?
She didn’t speak and he could still tell she was Shen Qianzhan?
As if knowing what she was thinking at this moment, that end let out a low laugh and said: “The breathing sound is somewhat familiar.”