On the way to Time Hall, Shen Qianzhan regretted more than once how her brain had gone completely blank at that moment, unable to come up with even a single rebuttal, letting this damn man take advantage of her verbally!

Could she still call herself the little literary treasure of the film production world with this level of improvised performance!

Shen Qianzhan bit her lip, glanced at the navigation system chattering about turning right ahead, and felt a surge of defeated powerlessness in her heart.

Twenty minutes ago.

After Ji Qinghe finished saying with a low laugh that “the breathing sound is somewhat familiar,” he quickly asked: “Are you looking for a watch restoration specialist?”

Shen Qianzhan suspected he was trying to gloss things over, attempting to cover up his sexual harassment behavior toward a mature and beautiful woman. But strangely, she didn’t feel offended. Instead, her ears burned hot, and a tide of red spread from the back of her neck to her earlobes.

Half her brain was emotionally recalling the weightless feeling of having half her soul ascend to heaven when he had breathed on her earlobe that night, while the other half rationally considered what retort would make his male dignity lose face.

Before she could think it through, Ji Qinghe, like a prophet, struck first: “Only children harbor such hatred for evil and act on emotion. Adults only rationally consider what’s most beneficial for themselves.”

Little child Shen Qianzhan immediately felt her intelligence was insulted, so angry that her three souls ascended to heaven and six spirits left her body: “You’re the child.” After saying this, she realized… damn, she’d fallen into his trap again.

Ji Qinghe wasn’t surprised by her reaction. He switched the phone to his other hand, his tone still lazy and casual, but if you listened carefully, you could detect a slight upturn of pleasure in his voice: “How about it, can we continue our conversation that ended unpleasantly last time?”

Shen Qianzhan hesitated somewhat.

Last night when she had launched her decisive, indiscriminate attack, she hadn’t thought about having another meeting with Ji Qinghe. Now she was stuck between a rock and a hard place—whether to take this ready-made way out or not was quite awkward.

She touched her delicate little face in the rearview mirror, her heart conflicted like boiling water, bubbling with little bubbles.

Continue talking? It was still the old problem—she didn’t want to mix personal feelings into work.

One-night stands were commonplace in the entertainment industry, not rising to the level of personal morality. But she was clear-minded about it: having slept together or not, these physical relationships were ultimately different.

Having needs required sacrifice.

Rationally, Shen Qianzhan didn’t think Ji Qinghe would use this as leverage to threaten her personally, but currently Ji Qinghe’s identity was questionable, and she knew nothing about this man’s situation.

Emotionally, she was accustomed to thinking ten steps ahead, considering all unstable factors before even taking a step.

What if Ji Qinghe used their ambiguous relationship to demand resources, property, or any immoral behavioral requests? And what if Ji Qinghe had ulterior motives in approaching her, coveting her beauty, wanting to continue their sexual relationship…

The more Shen Qianzhan thought about it, the more she felt the latter possibility was greater.

After all, Ji Qinghe’s gaze that night—she had seen it particularly clearly, like wildfire spreading across grasslands, three parts sober, seven parts intoxicated. When there was wind, it howled; when it met fire, it burned.

For that moment, she even felt that even if he died at that instant, he would be willing and find it sweet as honey.

Sigh.

Being good-looking was so troublesome.

Her contemplation took too long. Ji Qinghe glanced at the call duration and threw out his final trump card: “I’m currently restoring a watch. Want to come take a look?”

Shen Qianzhan immediately: “Give me the address.”

Producer Shen, who had struggled all the way between self-blame and annoyance at being bewitched and repeatedly building herself up psychologically, arrived at Time Hall in the final minute before a potential mental breakdown.

Time Hall was located in Beijing’s second ring ancient architecture protection zone, in a small alley adjacent to the back wall of the Forbidden City.

The storefront was very narrow, with quite a low presence among the tightly closed residential buildings.

If Shen Qianzhan hadn’t followed the navigation to find it, she never would have discovered there was a watch shop here.

She parked her car and walked in leisurely.

Facing her was a four-panel brocade screen with a black and white base, painted with a landscape ink painting of cranes returning and magpies singing. The ceiling was low, with a Chinese-style chandelier hanging down. The soft light perfectly enveloped the four-corner table and chair set below.

On the long table were tea utensils, azure porcelain tea sets, and at the very center was a transparent fish tank with three goldfish leisurely swaying their tails as they floated.

Beside the tea utensils was an artistic backflow incense ornament, apparently just lit not long ago. The sandalwood scent was very faint, white smoke threading downward from the rocks, shrouding the deer on the cliff in light smoke that suggested neither morning mist nor evening return.

Everything was so elegant it was like a private tea room for meeting friends.

If it weren’t for the potted lucky bamboo, small pine tree, and fortune cat ornaments commonly seen on certain treasure platforms in the corner… you really couldn’t tell this was a place that conducted business.

Shen Qianzhan was pondering whether to make a phone call to announce her presence when wind chimes jingled softly behind the door. A young man in his thirties burst through the door in a hurry. When he saw Shen Qianzhan standing in the center position, he paused before greeting: “Hello, you must be Ms. Shen Qianzhan?”

He looked back, then somewhat awkwardly extended his hand: “I’m Meng Wanzhou. I’m the one you contacted on Hangjia, the founder of Time Hall.”

Shen Qianzhan nodded proudly and lightly grasped Meng Wanzhou’s fingertips for a brief handshake: “Where’s Ji Qinghe?”

Meng Wanzhou had obviously learned one-sidedly during the past hour that Shen Qianzhan and Ji Qinghe were old acquaintances. He turned to guide her: “Follow me.”

He pushed open the hidden door they had entered through, stepping aside to let Shen Qianzhan go first: “The entrance is a guest reception hall. We usually entertain unfamiliar customers here.”

He enthusiastically led her through a corridor into a courtyard: “This room is the headquarters of the Beijing Watch Collection Association.”

Shen Qianzhan looked in the direction of his pointing finger. Under the corridor pillars were several wooden four-corner stools, and behind them hung a vertical plaque with black characters on a white background, written in flowing script: “Beijing Watch Collection Association.”

She asked: “Workshop? Or non-profit organization?”

Meng Wanzhou glanced at her and muttered: “You ask pretty sharp questions right off the bat. I’m a secondary institution, properly certified. Throughout the year, we have quite a few field trips and training exchange activities. We’re organized, disciplined, and have faith.”

He stepped over the stone threshold and pointed to the open room next door: “Qinghe is in there. Go in first, I’ll brew you some tea. Do you prefer Guanyin or Pu-er?”

“Pu-er, thanks.”

Meng Wanzhou waved his hand and walked away.

Shen Qianzhan watched him leave, steeled her courage, and stepped into the room.

Ji Qinghe sat at a work table by the window, head slightly lowered, showing only his back.

The lighting in the room wasn’t very good, with alternating light and shadow. Where he sat was like a natural stage, with light streaming in from the window frame, absorbing all the light sources.

Hearing footsteps, he turned his head slightly, giving her just a peripheral glance.

Producer Shen, who had just been brazenly theorizing that Ji Qinghe was lusting after her body and beauty, wanting to continue their sexual relationship: “…”

She touched her nose and lightened her steps as she approached.

Ji Qinghe was repairing a wristwatch.

The watch band and back case had just been removed, revealing the intricate and complex mechanical dial of the movement.

He was using tweezers to grip the stem, his slender fingers controlling the rather miniature watch repair tools with surprising dexterity and flexibility.

Shen Qianzhan was a layperson.

Among the watch repair tools on his table, she couldn’t identify any except for the screwdriver, much less know their functions. Watching Ji Qinghe concentratedly disassembling the watch components, the complex parts within the movement being quickly cleaned one by one, she tactfully didn’t disturb him at this time.

Meng Wanzhou came by midway to deliver Pu-er tea. Seeing Shen Qianzhan standing, he complained that Ji Qinghe didn’t know how to cherish women and lacked even basic hospitality, while grinning and telling Shen Qianzhan not to mind: “Once Qinghe starts repairing watches, he becomes transcendent and detached from worldly concerns. He’s been like this since childhood.”

Shen Qianzhan raised an eyebrow, immediately catching the key point: “Since childhood?”

“Didn’t he tell you?” Meng Wanzhou said: “Ji Qinghe and I are cousins.”

Shen Qianzhan: “…” They probably weren’t close enough to discuss such things yet.

Ji Qinghe let out a timely light snort, interrupting: “I can hear you.”

He released the screwdriver and instead grabbed Shen Qianzhan’s chair, pulling her and the chair toward his direction right up to the work table.

“This is a strap support holder, very common.” He handed the support holder that fixed the strap to her: “It fixes the strap and is used to disassemble and adjust strap length. Every watch counter has one, nothing special about it.”

“This is a case back knife, for opening cases.” Ji Qinghe tapped the back case placed on the leather pad, not at all feeling that this description was bloody, violent, and unsuitable for content review standards: “Anti-magnetic tweezers and grinding stone. For gripping components while avoiding magnetization. Different models, usually need to stock three to five pairs.”

“Hand setter, hand presser, movement oil, automatic oil pen.” He paused, raising his hand to point at the magnifying glass clamped to the lens: “And the eyepiece. According to need, it can be fitted with magnifying glasses of different magnifications from three to twelve times. Low magnifications for disassembling and installing parts, high magnifications for adjusting the hairspring and checking the balance staff pivot.” After finishing, Ji Qinghe’s gaze moved from the work table to her face, lingering for a few seconds before adding: “For example, it can magnify every flaw on your face.”

Shen Qianzhan had been listening intently to his explanation. Suddenly hearing such a comment, a vein jumped at her temple, and she coldly lifted the corner of her mouth in a sarcastic smile: “I don’t accept any imposed flaws. If you can’t make conversation, then don’t talk.”

“That’s not impossible either.” Ji Qinghe laughed very lightly, meaningfully: “Mouths can do other things besides talking.”

Shen Qianzhan followed this comment into some brief recollections and shamefully misinterpreted his serious tone.

Now it was new grudges added to old ones, all to be settled later: “Mr. Ji, sexual harassment isn’t limited to physical contact. Suggestive verbal harassment is also one type.”

Ji Qinghe’s expression was always lacking. Hearing this, he only perfunctorily curved his lips and asked back: “Then what about Producer Shen’s character assassination of me last night?”

Wait, hold on?

How did it become character assassination?

The two were already close together. His hand was still resting on the armrest of the chair. When he leaned forward to speak, looking down from above, in a semi-embracing ambiguous posture, he met her eyes: “Given Producer Shen’s level of disgust toward me, if I were under eighteen, we should be seeing each other in court?”

Shen Qianzhan: “…”

Damn, just shut up.