The next afternoon, Ming Jue came to pick them up punctually.

The business car quickly merged through the main arterial road on the right side of the Bell Tower, soon speeding north toward their destination.

Shen Qianzhan leaned back in her seat with closed eyes, resting.

Last night, after Ji Suimu left carrying Ji Lin, she received a video call request from Su Zan and quickly returned to her room.

She had business matters, so Ji Qinghe didn’t want to disturb her. He brought her warm water and fruit once during the meeting.

After quietly setting down his “express delivery of love,” he lingered for a while in a spot invisible to the phone’s camera and sent her a message: “Need anything else?”

WeChat vibrated, and Shen Qianzhan switched screens to look.

Seeing the sender was Ji Qinghe, she glanced up at him and replied: “No, nothing.” Actually, Shen Qianzhan could have temporarily interrupted the meeting, but she chose not to.

On her phone, Su Zan’s methodical reporting continued.

Shen Qianzhan bit into the kiwi fruit he’d cut for her, multitasking.

Ji Qinghe’s fingers tapped the screen several times. Before long, Shen Qianzhan received another WeChat message from him: “Auntie Xie left you a late-night snack. Want me to bring it up?”

She rolled the remaining half slice of kiwi into her mouth and replied with one hand: “Won’t eat it. Eating late makes you gain weight.”

Ji Qinghe’s gaze paused, shifting from his phone screen to her graceful, well-proportioned figure.

Shen Qianzhan’s strict body management was no less rigorous than actors and artists maintaining their appearance for cameras.

He tactfully said nothing and instead asked: “How much longer until you finish?”

This question was quite direct.

Shen Qianzhan naturally wouldn’t think he was just asking casually. After considering for several seconds, she replied: “Not sure.”

After sending that, Qiao Xin’s voice intruded into Su Zan’s background audio. She took advantage of Su Zan pausing to drink water to chatter about script progress.

Shen Qianzhan appropriately shrugged her shoulders, expressing helplessness.

Ji Qinghe had only been showing concern. Seeing she seemed to misunderstand, he didn’t explain, put away his phone, and left the room.

When leaving, he didn’t forget to close the door behind him.

That door closing sound was crisp and loud, completely unlike the low-key discretion of their secret rendezvous earlier.

Su Zan indeed paused and fell quiet for a few seconds.

After a moment, he cleared his throat and tentatively called out: “Mr. Ji, you’re still awake this late?”

Shen Qianzhan switched back to the video page, eating kiwi while replying: “Stop calling, he left.”

Su Zan made a sound of great regret: “A moment of spring night is worth a thousand gold pieces. Sister Qian, your loss tonight isn’t small!”

Shen Qianzhan didn’t pick up the thread, her expression indifferent, as if disdaining Su Zan’s crude joke.

Dirty jokes needed enthusiastic participation to be colorful. Without her cooperation, Su Zan quickly lost interest, skipping transitional setup and continuing from where he’d left off in his report.

However, Shen Qianzhan was only superficially calm. Beneath her elegant facade, her mind was filled with vivid replays of the passionate scene that had occurred in the storage room not long ago—

Complete with 4D audio and visual effects, surround sound.

It was as if even his gradually intensifying cold fragrance was right at her nose, audible with each breath.

What loss did she have tonight?

She had profited enormously!

Shen Qianzhan wasn’t unfamiliar with the Ji family residence.

Last year, to persuade Old Master Ji to come out of retirement, she had visited here three times.

Though she wasn’t familiar with every brick underfoot, she at least knew the way.

The Ji residence’s architectural style was the same as Ji Qinghe’s Beijing courtyard house—Chinese antique replica. However, the old mansion had more space to work with and a grander layout than the courtyard house.

At the main entrance stood an extremely expensive stone screen wall. The wall’s patterns resembled landscape ink paintings—distant views of green pines and mountains, with fishermen boating on rivers in the foreground. Combined with flowing water curtains, it was magnificent.

Listening to the rushing water sound, Shen Qianzhan felt like she was hearing Alipay payment notifications…

Her little heart trembling.

Passing the stone screen, there were distant pools and nearby streams, pavilions and towers.

The Ji residence’s luxurious grandeur hit them full force.

Shen Qianzhan couldn’t help remembering her feelings during her first visit: “When I got Old Master Ji’s address, I assumed he lived as a hermit with a detached personality. On the way here, I felt the trip wouldn’t go smoothly.”

This opening sounded like there was quite a journey of inner turmoil behind it.

Ji Qinghe was interested and deliberately slowed his pace, waiting for her to continue.

“After arriving, before even seeing Old Master Ji, my heart was already half-cold.” Shen Qianzhan still felt somewhat wronged remembering it: “I had considered two approaches then—money and ideals.” But seeing the Ji residence’s main gate, her first plan died in the womb, never to see daylight.

“This is the Ji family’s ancestral home, passed down through generations for hundreds of years now. Before Grandfather retired, this place hadn’t been renovated for ages and was quite dilapidated—completely different from now.” Ji Qinghe’s tone was mild, smiling as he said: “Later, as our generation grew up, my father felt that when the younger generation reached marriageable age, the ancestral home’s facade should be properly maintained, otherwise…”

He paused slightly, keeping them in suspense.

Shen Qianzhan knew he was deliberately leading her to ask but still took the bait: “Otherwise what?”

“Otherwise it would be hard to find wives.” Ji Qinghe chuckled: “Yet wasn’t I still shut out?”

This implication was too obvious. Shen Qianzhan heard it and, seeing Ming Jue had gradually fallen behind, lightly replied: “Now that’s interesting talk. Which door shut you out? You’re clearly not taking responsibility.”

She deliberately twisted his meaning, substituting concepts.

Instead, Ji Qinghe found himself checkmated after failing to checkmate her, left speechless.

Having achieved great victory in their verbal sparring, Shen Qianzhan was in good spirits, her steps considerably lighter.

Two figures, one large and one small, were already standing at the main house entrance.

Old Master Ji held Ji Lin’s hand, waiting under the eaves.

Shen Qianzhan had met Old Master Ji many times. Though she still maintained respectful awe, she was much more at ease when interacting with him.

After sitting in the living room for brief chat, Old Master Ji led Shen Qianzhan to the storage room to select antique clocks. After agreeing to lend Shen Qianzhan antique clocks that day, he had kept his promise, waiting for her to come collect them.

The old master’s collection was far more spectacular than Ji Qinghe’s—rows of antique clocks, categorized by type, from the Qing Dynasty to modern times, all priceless treasures.

Shen Qianzhan appeared calm on the surface while her heart roared with wild waves, boiling with excitement.

Had she known Old Master Ji possessed such a clock gallery, she should have turned around and gone home immediately.

Ideals?

Talking ideals with a wealthy man who owned hundreds of antique clocks?

How had she not known she was so ignorant of her own limitations before?

When adults fell quiet, children got restless.

Ji Lin was held by Ji Qinghe’s hand, his small body leaning crookedly against his leg as he muttered: “There are so many clocks inside, all repaired by my little uncle. Little Auntie Shen, can you pick them out?”

Shen Qianzhan had already accepted that her title could undergo countless upgrades and changes within a single day. Hearing this, she looked down to meet Ji Lin’s gaze: “What if I pick them out correctly?”

Ji Lin tilted his little head to think, his round little hand pushing at Ji Qinghe: “If you pick them out, I’ll give you my little uncle.”

Seeing Shen Qianzhan didn’t seem satisfied with this reward, Ji Lin looked up at Ji Qinghe and made two clicking sounds, showing obvious disdain. His meaning was clearly “See, even giving you away, you can’t be given away.”

Ji Qinghe placed his palm over Ji Lin’s little head, ruffling his hair into a mess with two or three motions.

Just as Ji Lin was frantically trying to fix his hairstyle, Shen Qianzhan’s gaze focused slightly, settling on the black wood enamel carved antique clock before her, decorated with Penglai fairy islands, pavilions and towers, and the Eight Immortals bringing treasures.

She remembered that in the “Time” script, an overseas replica of an antique clock was severely damaged after being recovered from theft and substitution. The protagonist painstakingly restored it to its original appearance and later presented it as a gift to his wife’s grandfather.

Antique clock names were relatively long and difficult to pronounce. Shen Qianzhan could remember this clock so clearly thanks to its vivid wood carvings that perfectly matched its name—the Penglai Eight Immortals Bringing Treasures Black Wood Enamel Carved Antique Clock.

This antique clock was one of the timepieces she planned to borrow from Old Master Ji during this trip, and it topped Shen Qianzhan’s list of clocks.

Shen Qianzhan didn’t rush to answer immediately.

She suddenly guessed that Ji Lin’s question might have been prompted by Old Master Ji.

No wonder before departing from the airport, Ji Qinghe had given her a list of clocks to read from when the time came. Fortunately, she had good judgment and felt that pulling out a written list on the spot would look undignified, so she had memorized it.

Thinking of this, she turned to glance at Ji Qinghe.

He was playing with Ji Lin and didn’t return her gaze.

Knowing this was a test question, Shen Qianzhan put aside some of her casual attitude and answered seriously.

Her eyes swept around, first taking a complete look at every clock. When she was fairly confident, she submitted her answer: “Penglai Eight Immortals Bringing Treasures Black Wood Enamel Carved Antique Clock, Copper-Plated Four Horses Golden Goblet Enamel Relief Antique Clock, Hardwood Gold-Inlaid Copper-Plated Carved Clock, Golden Sun and Eternal Moon Magpie-Song Gold-Plated Pavilion Self-Chiming Clock.”

With each clock she named, she pointed to it.

Seeing her match all the clocks correctly, Ji Qingzhen glanced at Ji Qinghe behind him and shook his head almost imperceptibly, perhaps lamenting that his grandson couldn’t be kept at home.

He wasn’t questioning Shen Qianzhan.

Ji Qingzhen had some understanding of Shen Qianzhan’s knowledge of clocks before. Using Ji Lin’s mouth to test her was also to examine how well she understood Qinghe.

Seeing this, Ji Qingzhen pondered briefly and spoke first: “Every clock here is priceless. Take the ‘Penglai Eight Immortals Bringing Treasures Black Wood Enamel Carved Antique Clock’—it was a damaged piece Qinghe’s father bought at auction years ago. Though damaged, because it returned from overseas, its inherent value is incalculable and its price was extraordinarily high. If Qinghe’s father hadn’t brought it back to the Ji family, this antique clock might not be able to walk on time’s track again as it does today.”

Shen Qianzhan understood: “I consulted Mr. Ji in advance about methods for preserving antique clocks. The production team has also specifically set up a safe with dedicated personnel guarding it day and night. After the clocks reach Wuxi, I’ll personally handle the handover. Even during filming, we’ll strictly supervise actors to protect the antique clocks, guaranteeing they’ll be returned to you in perfect condition.”

With Ji Qinghe present, Ji Qingzhen wasn’t worried.

At his age, all beloved objects were external possessions—you bring nothing at birth and take nothing at death. He didn’t regard them so heavily. Shen Qianzhan’s attitude was sincere and neither servile nor arrogant. Satisfied, he made the final decision: “These four pieces—I’ll have them sent to Wuxi tomorrow.”

Shen Qianzhan expressed her thanks, but her heart felt slightly heavy.

When she had asked to borrow them, her tone had been confident. Now that she’d actually secured them, she felt somewhat apprehensive.

These treasures cost at least millions each, some priceless. Taking them back to the production crew, she’d have to handle them with extreme care. Not just impacts or collisions—even extra scratches would bankrupt her again.

If she really damaged them, she’d sell herself to Ji Qinghe. If sleeping with him once couldn’t pay it back, she’d sleep with him twice. Either way, she wouldn’t lose out.