Ji Qinghe was first stunned, then laughed despite himself.

He lowered his head, taking advantage of the gradually brightening dawn light to examine her.

Shen Qianzhan still slept with eyes closed, tear tracks remaining at the corners of her eyes. Like a peony with drooping stems after rain battering banana leaves, though still delicately beautiful as always, she had lost some of her sharp spirit that competed with the moon’s brilliance.

Ji Qinghe couldn’t tell for a moment whether she was talking in her sleep or had regained consciousness after waking. After thinking, he first lowered his head to admit fault: “It was my oversight.”

She didn’t respond, as if angry.

Ji Qinghe brushed away several strands of hair caught at the corners of her lips, lowering his head to kiss her: “I didn’t stay inside, no need to worry.”

Shen Qianzhan’s ear tips moved slightly. Though she didn’t speak, her closed eyes turned, seeming to recall. Upon recalling, she became shy and annoyed again, her mind filled entirely with him gripping her hand and forcing her to reach into their joining place, biting her ear, laughing lowly as he asked her: “Are you made of water, hmm?”

This scene was too shameful, yet her brain’s blocking system had malfunctioned, playing it on endless loop without pause.

She opened her mouth to bite him. After biting and hearing his muffled grunt, she was finally satisfied and fell into deep sleep.

The opening ceremony at eight in the morning meant Shen Qianzhan was awakened by Ji Qinghe at six.

She had just fallen into deep sleep and was in the mood to stay in bed. Reluctantly carried to the vanity table, she yawned several times in succession before barely becoming alert.

Whether due to last night’s irrigation or not, her complexion was rosy, without the paper-pale haggardness that follows drunkenness. Only her under-eyes had slight dark circles, traces of last night’s excessive indulgence and poor rest.

After washing, Shen Qianzhan dried her hair and sat down again.

The vanity table was already neatly arranged with a complete set of her usual cosmetic brands, from foundation and setting powder to highlighter, eyeshadow and blush, from contour brushes and nose brushes to twelve different-function eyeshadow brushes. The complete equipment was even more comprehensive than what she had brought to Wuxi herself.

She recalled the doorbell sound she had vaguely heard during water intervals earlier, instinctively turning her head to look at Ji Qinghe leaning against the wall.

The room temperature was comfortable, he wore only a bath towel around his waist. The towel hung loosely, even the curves of his V-lines were clearly visible.

At this moment, his hair was half-wet, his face showing not a trace of his usual noble refinement, leaving only the appearance of a debauched scoundrel.

With this glance, Shen Qianzhan quietly drew in a breath. She kept her eyes straight ahead, pretending to be proper as she solemnized her tone: “You prepared this?”

Ji Qinghe raised his eyebrows slightly, as if finding her question pointless: “Is there a third person in this room?”

He roughly dried his hair with a towel, bending to cup water and wash his face: “It’s easy to be spotted going back in the morning, so after breakfast we’ll go directly to the scene.”

After speaking, he raised his face, carefully examining the wound on his lower lip in the mirror.

The wound was too obvious, clearly from being bitten.

He touched it with his fingertip, glancing through the mirror at Shen Qianzhan who was straightening her back to begin applying makeup, silently curling the corners of his lips.

At seven-oh-three, Qiao Xin came to pick them up with the crew’s business car.

Ji Qinghe opened the door for her. When they met face-to-face, he lightly nodded his chin as a greeting, then gave the two space, going to the restaurant for breakfast.

Not long after he left, the hotel’s catering department delivered a service cart. The breakfast had both Chinese and Western options, filling an entire cart. Even the pastries were prepared according to her preferences, with side dishes and condiments.

Shen Qianzhan’s hand shook while drawing eyeliner, nearly drawing the line into her hairline.

While fixing it, she muttered to herself: This treatment after one night’s sleep is comparable to serving an emperor?

Qiao Xin couldn’t hold back, chattering away with exclamations like “President Ji is so considerate” “President Ji is so warm” “President Ji’s pampering is simply unmatched.”

“If the boys pursuing me were all as understanding as President Ji, would I still be single to this day?”

Shen Qianzhan finished her eyeliner and glanced at her sideways: “Can’t even eating shut your mouth?”

Qiao Xin immediately fell silent.

She ate the adorable-looking little cake, her eyes rolling to look at the kiss marks behind Shen Qianzhan’s shoulder – tsk, Su Zan truly didn’t deceive me, the battle was indeed intense.

After changing clothes, the clock hand was approaching eight.

Shen Qianzhan and Ji Qinghe rode together to the opening ceremony.

The opening ceremony for “Time” was held in front of today’s first scene shooting location, not too far from Ji Spring Bay.

When Shen Qianzhan arrived, the crew’s staff had also just assembled.

She wore a white suit, conspicuous under the blazing sun like an unfurled banner. Someone first called out “Producer Shen,” and all the crew members scattered across the lawn turned to look.

Shen Qianzhan felt guilty like a thief, inexplicably unable to face them calmly.

She raised her hand, using the script she had casually brought from the car to shield from the sun, walking all the way to the altar table set with incense, fruits and other offerings, where the production supervisor consciously stepped forward to report the situation.

Opening ceremonies always followed the same process and format. Shen Qianzhan let it go in one ear and out the other, only roughly scanning the scene setup.

Most eye-catching was the altar table.

Behind the altar was a giant screen concept poster, the two characters for “Time” flowing like clouds and water straight to the bottom of the screen. In front of the altar were two rows of flower baskets just delivered from the florist, with a red carpet laid in the middle for photographers to capture opening ceremony highlights.

She turned around, examining everything front and back, nodding: “Is everyone here?”

The production supervisor looked around and nodded: “Everyone’s here, Teacher Song just arrived too.”

Song Yan’s “Spring River” hadn’t wrapped yet, so she hadn’t officially joined the group. Originally her schedule conflicted with “Time,” but coincidentally “Spring River’s” crew was in Wuxi. Xiao Sheng, giving face to Shen Qianzhan, specially gave Song Yan a morning off to attend the opening ceremony.

Seeing nothing here needed her attention, Shen Qianzhan was about to find the finance department to confirm whether the opening red envelopes were ready. Her foot hadn’t stepped out yet when the production supervisor’s hesitant nasal sound made her stop and return to her original position.

The production supervisor hesitated before saying: “The consultant teacher doesn’t seem to be visible…”

Consultant teacher?

Ji Qinghe?

Shen Qianzhan answered without thinking: “He’s here.”

She raised her hand, pointing to Ji Qinghe not far away talking with Su Zan: “He came in the same car as me.”

Seeing this, the production supervisor repeatedly acknowledged.

At eight o’clock, the opening ceremony for “Time” officially began.

The executive director and production supervisor hosted the ceremony, all cameras on standby, beginning to film and record.

Shen Qianzhan received the lit incense candles, standing in the front row with Su Zan and Shao Chouxie to bow first, with the main creative personnel lined up on both sides following the ritual, bowing in four directions.

When she straightened up, her gaze unconsciously fell sideways, glancing toward Ji Qinghe at her left rear.

His features were cold and sharp. Due to the glaring sunlight, his eyes squinted slightly, his overall bearing even more outstanding and eye-catching than the actor playing the second male lead standing beside him.

As if sensing her gaze, his eyes shifted slightly, catching her red-handed with perfect precision.

Shen Qianzhan instinctively dodged. After avoiding his sight, she felt her behavior was like protesting too much – where was her usual imposing manner of killing gods when gods blocked her way, killing Buddhas when Buddhas blocked her way?

As Shen Qianzhan was feeling annoyed, the host announced the incense insertion and camera rolling.

Shen Qianzhan cast aside all distracting thoughts, straightened her back, and moved with Shao Chouxie to the incense altar, inserting the incense into the incense burner.

After the ceremony was complete, pre-positioned ceremonial cannons were set off by crew specialists. Paper-like celebratory confetti slowly fell after the “bang” sound, and amid the festive atmosphere, the opening ceremony for “Time” officially concluded.

Amidst the congratulatory voices of “May ‘Time’s’ production be auspicious,” Shen Qianzhan smiled as she, along with Shao Chouxie, Su Zan and others, distributed opening red envelopes to all crew members.

Shen Qianzhan finally had a break half an hour later.

Most of the crew were performing their duties at the filming location. With nothing immediate to do, Shen Qianzhan simply went to the monitor to watch Fu Yang’s first scene.

The first scene of “Time” was a confrontation between Fu Yang and the male supporting actor, set in the clock repair master’s workshop built by the crew. When Shen Qianzhan suddenly stepped in, she thought space had crossed over, as if she had stepped into Time Hall.

The scene was quiet, with reverse-flowing incense gently streaming out fragrant mist. She passed through the side tracks and walked to the monitor.

Shao Chouxie was testing camera positions. On the main screen, Fu Yang sat at the workbench, playing with precision instruments.

In the upper left corner shot, in an unnoticed corner, Ji Qinghe stood with hands behind his back, examining the clock props that Shen Qianzhan had extensively created.

Shen Qianzhan watched without speaking.

After adjusting the camera position, Shao Chouxie signaled to start filming a test scene.

In the brief few minutes gap, the executive director asked Ji Qinghe to explain tool usage to Fu Yang.

Fu Yang had studied intensively with Meng Wanzhou for several days in the early stages. Shen Qianzhan had seen on-site videos that Qiao Xin sent, showing he looked quite professional. But now, personally watching Ji Qinghe guide him on scene, the feeling was somewhat different.

She had seen Ji Qinghe repair clocks, that kind of focused obsession was hard for anyone to replicate one hundred percent.

Even Fu Yang, whom she so favored and felt the entire entertainment industry couldn’t produce a second Ji Qinghe of, found it difficult to achieve.

Instead, Shao Chouxie, who was initially unsatisfied with Fu Yang in front of the original, stared at the monitor and praised repeatedly: “Producer Shen, your eye is still the best. Fu Yang’s camera presence is too perfect, look at those eyes, even I’m moved watching.”

Shen Qianzhan glanced at him distractedly, mocking: “That’s not what you said before.”

Shao Chouxie laughed dryly twice, explaining: “Wasn’t that for pursuing perfection? President Ji can tell stories even with his fingers, Fu Yang is still a bit lacking.”

Shen Qianzhan was too lazy to argue with him. She looked sideways, her gaze passing over the lighting equipment to fall on Ji Qinghe.

He had retreated outside the camera frame, holding a bottle of mineral water handed to him by the crew. Beside him stood Su Zan, who had been accompanying him, and several prop crew workers, looking like they were waiting to position themselves.

Shen Qianzhan beckoned, calling Qiao Xin over, whispering instructions in her ear.

After listening, Qiao Xin immediately ran off to relay the message.

On the monitor was a close-up of Fu Yang repairing a clock, while off-camera, the person gazed intently into the distance, his expression clear and handsome, consistent as always.

As long as this man was good-looking, even dazing off was pleasing to the eye.

On the other side, in a small booth partitioned off from the workshop.

The planner and art director sat facing each other, selecting photos to post on the official blog later.

After gathering enough photos, the planner quietly moved the computer over: “Look, look quickly.”

The art director leaned over.

On the computer screen, Shen Qianzhan held incense, her gaze not falling on the camera lens but placed toward the left rear.

There, a person stood tall, holding incense and looking back, lips slightly curved, seeming to smile yet not smile.

Art director: Ah, I’m dead.