She deeply suspected that Ji Qinghe was taking an unconventional approach, retreating to advance, trying to strike directly at the heart and break down her defensive guard.

Could she fall for it? No way!

Shen Qianzhan pursed her lips and handed him a cup of the Pu-er that Meng Wanzhou had brought: “What’s this talk about disgust? Only children care about liking or disliking. Adults only think about whether something is useful and what use it has.”

Her smile was brilliant and genuine. If it weren’t for her toes pushing against the ground, sliding her chair back several steps, you really couldn’t tell she was going against her conscience in this social nicety.

She picked up the other cup of Pu-er from the tea tray and, pretending to admire the workshop, took small steps to stroll around.

Fortunately, Meng Wanzhou had good sense and retreated in time, otherwise her personal image might have suffered considerable damage.

This petty man Ji Qinghe was too insidious.

Shen Qianzhan complained internally while wandering. When she came back to her senses, her steps had stopped in front of a glass cabinet that occupied an entire wall, reaching from floor to ceiling.

The cabinet had a solid wood frame as the base with three layers of beveled glass shelving. The intersections between the cabinet corners and glass were cleanly cut, with inlaid craftsmanship creating delicate threaded patterns.

Those thread patterns were light in color, thin strands outlining watch faces. The watch faces had complete hour, minute, and second hands, pointing to a specific time on some day.

The cabinet appeared to be for display and collection purposes, with very ingenious interior design. Each compartment was not uniformly sized but custom-made, carefully displaying different types of timepieces.

Shen Qianzhan’s research on timepieces was still shallow. She could only identify a few collection clocks similar to those exhibited at the Shaanxi Museum’s timepiece exhibition.

One was a colored lacquer copper plate clock from the Qianlong period of the Qing Dynasty, one was a black lacquer gilt wooden tower clock, and another was an 18th-century British clock.

Unable to hide her shock, she turned to ask Ji Qinghe: “Authentic pieces?”

Having apparently encountered similar scenes many times, his tone was unperturbed: “Some are.”

The eyepiece was still on. He easily followed the direction of her finger to see clearly the timepiece displayed in the cabinet: “That one is a model. Grandfather would make similar molds of every timepiece he restored to teach me watchmaking.”

“Many of the knockoff parts are incomplete and of poor quality. Afraid of damaging them, so they’re put in the cabinet.” He simply removed the eyepiece and walked over: “Not curious about which ones are real?”

Did she have the word “superficial” carved on her face? Didn’t even know how to be tactful.

Shen Qianzhan lowered her head to sip her tea, slightly lifting her chin to point at the British clock in the corner that looked quite aged: “This one, authentic.”

Ji Qinghe snorted lightly: “Judging by the degree of wear?”

“Not exactly.” Shen Qianzhan blew gently on the tea surface and said: “Did you forget we saw similar timepieces at the Shaanxi Museum’s timepiece exhibition? Basically all the Qing Dynasty Qianlong period pieces have become museum collections. I figured even if you had money, you couldn’t get your hands on them.”

Her tone shifted, becoming several degrees lighter with some triumph: “I researched Old Master Ji’s background. When he was young, he was a timepiece museum director. Even after resigning, he continued doing timepiece restoration for free. Someone with such craftsmanship spirit probably can’t bear to see collection clocks harmed by unworthy descendants.”

Ji Qinghe was well aware of Shen Qianzhan’s roundabout way of insinuating things about him. Not bothering to argue, he only lowered his voice and asked with a low laugh: “You still remember the timepiece exhibition at the Shaanxi Museum?”

He suddenly lowered his tone and put on that half-smiling expression, instantly rendering what should have been a perfectly normal inquiry ambiguous.

Of course Shen Qianzhan remembered.

At that time, she had just secured the tribute drama collaboration with Bai Xuan Film Studio. With a last-minute cramming mentality, she changed her planned vacation destination from Fiji to Xi’an, all for this grand timepiece exhibition at the Shaanxi Museum.

Besides the collection clocks from the Shaanxi Museum’s timepiece hall, the exhibition also featured renowned national treasure-level timepieces from various locations.

That’s where she and Ji Qinghe met.

Not to hide anything from you, among a room full of treasures, none could compare to Ji Qinghe’s brilliance.

Shen Qianzhan, an old hand who had been immersed in the entertainment industry for years and seen all kinds of fresh meat, had never seen any type she hadn’t encountered. Yet she was amazed on the spot by Ji Qinghe and only wanted to become his devoted follower.

He wasn’t just good-looking; he possessed a mysterious temperament, like Loulan, like bodhi trees washed clean of worldly traces by desert wind and sand, carrying the weight of wandering from ancient times to now, finally settling like dust.

No signs of hardship, only the remains of experience.

Of course, now knowing he dealt with time and timepieces, Shen Qianzhan wasn’t surprised he would have such a temperament.

But the amazing feeling Ji Qinghe had brought to Shen Qianzhan at that time, even when recalled now, was still endlessly memorable and made her heart itch unbearably.

However, women were best at being ruthlessly stubborn.

Shen Qianzhan said expressionlessly: “I only remember the clocks, not the whore.”

Meng Wanzhou was smoking by the courtyard’s well.

The old house’s soundproofing wasn’t great. Ji Qinghe and Shen Qianzhan’s conversation occasionally drifted out intermittently. Except for not being able to hear clearly, eavesdropping from this corner required no technical difficulty.

After finishing one cigarette, he took fish food to the front hall to feed the fish.

When he returned, he deliberately passed by the doorway and glanced inside—Ji Qinghe was showing the young woman his wall of distinguished timepieces.

He snorted disdainfully and complained internally: Back when one of his collector friends wanted to see some rare pieces, the man had barely started his pitch before that cold, heartless man interrupted his day-long prepared speech with a single “get lost.” But encountering a pretty girl, all moral bottom lines disappeared. Double standard dog!

Meng Wanzhou tossed the fish food onto the windowsill corner and picked up the watering can to water the plants.

His lucky bamboo was crying for food, saying it wanted some water.

So, after watering, wiping the tea table, and cleaning the association headquarters with nothing left to do, Meng Wanzhou looked at the electric hot pot on the long table, his eyes lighting up as he happily extended an invitation: “Ms. Shen, it’s getting late. Why don’t you stay for hot pot tonight?”

Shen Qianzhan, who was contemplating using farewell as an excuse to conveniently ask for contact information, glanced at Ji Qinghe standing against the wall looking difficult to approach, and graciously accepted the invitation.

The hot pot ingredients were prepared in advance by Meng Wanzhou. He had originally planned to invite several timepiece collector friends to the association headquarters for a gathering in the next couple of days, to boast and talk about life while drowning sorrows in alcohol.

But circumstances were unpredictable.

Ji Qinghe had arrived in Beijing without a word, and from his demeanor, seemed to be planning a long stay.

He preferred quiet over noise and was most annoyed by Meng Wanzhou bringing fair-weather friends to the courtyard.

In his presence, Meng Wanzhou never dared to act presumptuously, let alone cross the line.

Coincidentally encountering Shen Qianzhan today, he skillfully microwaved and defrosted the ingredients, arranged a full long table of hot pot ingredients, and warmly greeted: “Ms. Shen, don’t be shy, eat more.”

Shen Qianzhan touched the little flesh on her belly and sighed deeply in her heart… that salad she ate for lunch was eaten in vain.

The three weren’t very familiar with each other. Even hot pot, this divine human artifact that could rapidly warm friendships, couldn’t exert much effect.

Meng Wanzhou looked at this one, then that one, and after holding back all evening, found an opening to pour out his words: “Ms. Shen, are you from Beijing?”

“Beijing drifter.” Shen Qianzhan tried a crab roe dumpling and said: “Since we’ve shared hot pot, just call me Qianzhan.”

Meng Wanzhou raised his eyebrows, dipping beef slices while asking: “Beijing drifter? Mind if I ask where you work?”

“Qiandeng.” Shen Qianzhan ate another shrimp ball, too busy to speak: “I’m a producer.”

This profession was somewhat distant from Meng Wanzhou’s life. Momentarily curious, he chattered and asked many questions that didn’t sound very smart. Finally, changing the topic, he glanced at his plastic cousin: “So you were looking for a timepiece specialist on Hangjia to find a consultant for a project? Since you know Qinghe, why didn’t you ask him directly?” Even going to such great lengths to have a phone consultation with someone like him who only dabbled in collecting from the sidelines.

Shen Qianzhan paused her chopsticks to think for a few seconds and said: “We don’t click when we talk.”

Meng Wanzhou wasn’t surprised and could even understand completely. Just that in Ji Qinghe’s presence, he didn’t dare explicitly agree, only nodding to show his supportive attitude.

After about several minutes of quiet, Shen Qianzhan was full.

She sipped her Pu-er in small mouthfuls, sizing up Ji Qinghe who hadn’t spoken since they started eating.

This man looked gentlemanly and refined on the outside, exuding an air of inherent nobility. Only when eating hot pot could the swirling smoke and human warmth pull him down from his pedestal.

She thought for a moment and asked: “Did you find me through Old Master Ji?”

Shen Qianzhan couldn’t sleep last night, tossing and turning in thought for a long time.

Ji Qinghe’s attitude clearly showed he knew she urgently needed to find a timepiece restoration specialist capable of restoring collection clocks to serve as a project consultant. To say he hadn’t seen the project proposal, Shen Qianzhan would twist her head off for this damn man to kick around like a ball.

“Probably.” Ji Qinghe nodded, answering rather conservatively: “Remember Ji Lin?”

He reminded: “The kid who called you a spider spirit from the Silk Cave.”

Shen Qianzhan quickly glanced at Meng Wanzhou, whose face was red from holding back laughter, clicked her tongue, and said perfunctorily: “I know. Could you speak more tactfully about things we both know?”

Ji Qinghe raised an eyebrow, clearly showing a “that depends on your performance” expression: “After he hid your proposal, he showed it to me.”

Shen Qianzhan nearly burned her mouth with a sip of Pu-er: “You mean Old Master Ji never saw my proposal?”

Ji Qinghe asked: “Is this important? He and Ms. Meng have already set their European tour itinerary and departed.”

Shen Qianzhan was speechless.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to feel inside.

She understood Ji Qinghe’s meaning. Whether Old Master Ji saw the proposal or not, he wouldn’t cancel his European tour. But if that was the reason, she would be willing to appropriately postpone the timeline to reschedule for the old master.

“You might not know who Ms. Meng is.” Ji Qinghe methodically ate a slice of beef and said: “Meng Qiongzhi, founder of Bu Zhong Sui.”

“The two have been separated by distance for too long and are counting on touring mountains and waters after retirement, enjoying life. Even if moved by your proposal, he would only let me substitute. Since the result is the same, why care about the process.”

Shen Qianzhan said disdainfully: “Can your influence and Old Master Ji’s be on the same level? Stop putting gold on your face.”

Ji Qinghe glanced lightly at Meng Wanzhou, who could no longer control his mocking expression. Stirring the clear broth with his chopsticks, he said: “Actually, I think that kid Ji Lin’s words weren’t candid enough.”

Shen Qianzhan had an ominous feeling.

Sure enough.

The petty man struck back the next second: “Spider spirit from the Silk Cave isn’t quite fitting. What do you think about Queen of the Women’s Kingdom?”

Shen Qianzhan: “???”

Was he implying that she acted that night like she’d never seen a man before?