After leaving the dining room, Shen Qianzhan didn’t leave immediately.

She walked along the corridor all the way to the hotel’s back garden.

Ji Chun Er Bay’s garden provided lawn wedding or outdoor press conference services year-round, so professional gardeners carefully tended it in all four seasons.

May was the transition from late spring to early summer, where seasons converged. Various colored flowers in the garden competed in beauty and fragrance. Though their true appearance couldn’t be seen under the night lights, the refreshing floral scent carried by the gentle evening breeze was enough to outline a scene of a hundred flowers blooming in spring splendor.

Shen Qianzhan didn’t walk far.

She stood by the flower bed, giving herself space to think.

Ji Qinghe rarely interfered with her work. Unless he thought she lacked the ability to handle something herself, he always left room and showed restraint and respect. Conversely, Shen Qianzhan would never rashly interfere with his decisions and freedom.

This had always been an unspoken understanding between them.

But just now, Ji Qinghe had said two things.

One question to Xiao Sheng: “Producer Xiao and General Manager Su have quite a close relationship, don’t you?”

Another question: “A romantic relationship?”

Ji Qinghe rarely concerned himself with others’ private affairs, and was even less interested in gossip.

Without reason, he wouldn’t bring up such matters publicly.

Shen Qianzhan wasn’t stupid. After a moment’s thought, she understood that although Ji Qinghe’s two sentences seemed like questioning Xiao Sheng, they were actually meant for her—he was telling her that Xiao Sheng and Su Lanyi had a very deep personal relationship.

Based on her understanding of Su Lanyi, their personal relationship was kept secret, most likely not a proper romantic relationship, but rather unseemly unspoken rules.

This matter, aside from making her once again sigh at Su Lanyi’s poor judgment in men, seemed to have no other use.

What she cared about was Su Lanyi’s intention in choosing to continue the contract, knowing that Wuxi Film City’s controlling party was Penglai Chenguang Pictures.

Her personal grudge with Penglai Chenguang—Su Zan’s ignorance was understandable, but Su Lanyi was one of the witnesses who understood the whole story from back then. She couldn’t possibly not know.

These past years, her relationship with Su Lanyi had gradually deteriorated.

On the surface, Su Lanyi still relied on her for everything as her mentor. And she remained loyal and steadfast, still firmly choosing Su Lanyi as her good minister and faithful general through wind and waves. But only Shen Qianzhan herself knew that their relationship wasn’t unbreakable—like a dam with termite nests, cracks had long appeared, and collapse was just a matter of time.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about repairing it, but their friendship was built on Su Lanyi’s benevolence in the first place. She had thoughts but wasn’t willing to communicate, and no matter how hard Shen Qianzhan tried, it was only one-sided futile effort with no solution.

Shen Qianzhan’s mouth was dry and her tongue parched.

Inexplicable anxiety made her heart restless, as if there were sparks picked from dry kindling in her chest, gradually spreading like wildfire.

She suddenly missed the cigarette Xiao Sheng had offered that she hadn’t accepted.

Though it wouldn’t quench her thirst, at least it could help put out the fire.

——

Shen Qianzhan had only stood by the flower bed for a moment when her calves became sore and her ankles slightly itchy.

The mosquitoes and flies in her ears also gradually increased with nightfall.

Shen Qianzhan had no intention of sacrificing herself to feed mosquitoes. Just as she was about to leave, footsteps behind her approached from far to near, carrying their owner’s usual cool and aloof style, moving like wind treading on clouds. In just a moment, they reached her.

As soon as he arrived, the temperature dropped sharply and the night became hazy.

The oncoming wind also carried some coolness. What she smelled at her nose and tasted on her lips was all the cold fragrance of night wind draped over his shoulders—light as pine and bamboo, yet rich as bright moon.

Upon seeing him, Shen Qianzhan’s restless and uneasy heart seemed to be silently comforted and settled back to its original place.

Shen Qianzhan blinked and met his eyes.

His brows and eyes were deep, his gaze profound. Different from her somewhat bewildered look at the moment, his eyes were firm. From the moment they faced each other, he carefully examined her from top to bottom.

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable under his scrutiny, Shen Qianzhan asked: “What are you looking at?”

“Checking if you cried.” Ji Qinghe pressed his lips lightly and flicked her forehead with his finger: “Not checking your phone? I looked for you for ages.”

Only then did Shen Qianzhan belatedly take her phone out of her bag. Several missed calls and WeChat messages were neatly lined up on the screen.

This afternoon when returning from the airport to the crew hotel, Shen Qianzhan had been browsing files on her phone. Afraid of disturbing Ji Qinghe and Ming Jue, she had set it to silent mode. Who would have thought she’d forget to change it back?

Feeling guilty, Shen Qianzhan cleared her throat and said: “Scripts usually write it this way—whenever the protagonist has trouble, their phone is either dead or on silent, anyway they can never be found easily.”

Ji Qinghe raised an eyebrow, clearly not accepting this explanation.

She changed the subject: “Where’s Ming Jue?”

“Behind us.” Ji Qinghe paused and said: “If you’d rather see him now, I’ll go get him to replace me.”

Shen Qianzhan wouldn’t dare.

Ever since Ji Qinghe gained legal and reasonable sleeping rights, his aura had become domineering, constantly threatening with sleep.

With her delicate constitution, how could she withstand daily merciless whipping?

She pretended not to hear and asked again: “What about Su Zan and Qiao Xin?”

“Had Ming Jue send them off first.” Ji Qinghe’s hand slid down to hold hers: “Walk with me?”

Shen Qianzhan thought for a moment: “Alright.”

After returning to the crew, there would be many eyes and mixed company, with who knows how many pairs of eyes watching her like minesweepers.

The two walked on the path paved with cobblestones, from the lawn to the boardwalk by Swan Lake.

The boardwalk had a row of street lamps every five meters, with dim lighting just for illumination.

Shen Qianzhan was led by him all the way to the lake’s central peninsula. The peninsula had no street lamps, only several rows of star lights wound around the wooden post railings, flashing on and off like meteors, cutting through the darkness in succession.

Shen Qianzhan felt the atmosphere here was quite good. She leaned against the railing to gaze at the dark lake surface, and just as she was about to turn around, Ji Qinghe had already embraced her from behind, holding her in his arms.

Her heart skipped, feeling an indescribable thrill and fondness for this unfamiliar sensation.

The question she had been brewing all along naturally came out: “When did you know Xiao Sheng and Su Lanyi were dating?”

“Dating?” He scoffed: “It’s not dating.”

Xiao Sheng was her colleague, Su Lanyi was her boss. With her subordinates and Su Zan, whose relationship was complex, at the table, he couldn’t speak too directly and crudely in public, so he used “romantic relationship” as a euphemism to save face for everyone.

As for when he found out, it was a long story.

Ji Qinghe considered his wording and said: “After getting the proposal.”

The proposal?

Shen Qianzhan paused and probed: “The proposal I gave to Grandfather Ji?”

Ji Qinghe nodded.

His chin rubbed against the top of her head as he said quietly: “I’m used to making plans and used to thinking three steps ahead. At the time, besides considering how to naturally integrate into your life, I also investigated your social circle in passing.”

Shen Qianzhan’s tone was ominous: “Investigated in passing? Don’t you think this behavior would offend me?”

“It did offend you.” He seemed to be smiling, his voice low and his chest slightly vibrating: “If you hadn’t asked, I originally planned to let you never know for your whole life.”

Shen Qianzhan: “…”

He was quite confident about it?

“Just kidding.” Ji Qinghe restrained his smile and said seriously: “I spent some time finding intersection points in our lives. Understanding your social circle and work circle was inevitable. If you want to spend unnecessary time being angry, I respect that.”

Shen Qianzhan was choked speechless by him.

He had already called being angry “spending unnecessary time,” so could she still get angry or not?

Moreover, was this a respectful attitude?

With Ji Qinghe’s cunning and habit of calculating three steps ahead, they probably could never have a proper fight in their lifetime—only her being unilaterally slaughtered, counter-killed, and killed over and over again.

Without exception.

Shen Qianzhan calmed her emotions and asked: “So before you met me, you already knew Su Lanyi and Xiao Sheng had an improper relationship?”

From her completely undisguised statement, Ji Qinghe analyzed—good, he had successfully coaxed her.

He smiled, his tone slightly rising: “More or less.”

“The confirmation was in Beijing. Ming Jue and I both saw Su Lanyi being picked up by Xiao Sheng when she was drunk. I was curious and looked a couple more times.” He paused and left it at that, not continuing further.

Shen Qianzhan understood.

She asked again: “Besides alerting me, what else am I overlooking about your deliberately bringing this up publicly tonight?”

Ji Qinghe didn’t need to think long about this question: “Public discussion is more forthright. I’ve never liked talking about people behind their backs.”

Shen Qianzhan couldn’t help raising an eyebrow, clearly not believing Ji Qinghe’s purpose was this simple.

However, she was always fair. Since Ji Qinghe had answered her questions, she didn’t mind explaining tonight’s conflict that anyone would think was her sudden outburst.

“I told you before that I have a past I can’t bear to look back on.” Shen Qianzhan paused and turned to face him: “What you heard was the first half. Actually, there’s a second half.”

“The President Zhao that Xiao Sheng mentioned is one of Penglai Chenguang’s directors with real power. The project I was deceived on—he was one of the producers. Back then Penglai Chenguang sought transformation and connected with my former company. But at the time, Penglai Chenguang lacked strength and couldn’t afford huge investment costs. It happened that I resigned to work independently, and the scumbag negotiated Penglai Chenguang’s investment for me using my former company’s name. He kept both me and President Zhao in the dark. I thought President Zhao was my mentor who valued my project and abilities. But President Zhao thought my studio was a subsidiary under my former company’s name—otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to invest at the time.”

Ji Qinghe organized his thoughts and asked: “You had contact with Penglai Chenguang when working at your former company, so it was a misunderstanding? He didn’t suspect he’d been deceived, and you thought he simply appreciated you.”

Shen Qianzhan smiled bitterly: “Yes.”

“After the final draft of the first ten episodes was set, to avoid wasting time, I simultaneously contacted actors. Penglai Chenguang’s first investment was implemented into the corporate account before signing actors. Initially the accounts were simple, with income and expenditure clear at a glance. At the time, besides crew staff costs and equipment rental expenses, venue rental took up the largest portion.”

“The company’s accountant was randomly recruited. I didn’t know at first that the accountant was secretly colluding with him. On the day the crew started filming, Penglai Chenguang transferred all remaining funds at once into the corporate account according to the previous contract.”

“After filming began, fund flows became complex. Production needed money for boxed meals, the crew’s vehicles needed gas, actors needed reimbursement for transportation, scripts were paid per episode, plus costumes, publicity and various other expenses totaling hundreds of thousands. By the time I discovered the funds had been embezzled, it was too late to call police.”

“I was the company’s legal representative, and I had personally approved the expenditure audits. Besides the accountant being imprisoned, it was very difficult to recover the embezzled money.”

Shen Qianzhan was overwhelmed as a first-time independent producer.

With someone she considered trustworthy assisting from the side, she gradually lowered her guard.

Later when the crew successfully began filming, she saw it as dawn breaking, immersing herself in the virtual beauty she had created for herself, completely losing crisis awareness.

Plus it was her first time opening a company—inexperienced and blindly trusting the accountant.

Taking such a big fall wasn’t entirely others’ fault.

She took a deep breath and continued: “After the incident, President Zhao learned he’d been deceived and forced me to repay the money.”

In that situation, Shen Qianzhan could actually understand President Zhao’s feelings.

The company wanted transformation, breakthrough, and profit. They had put all their eggs in one basket coming to Beijing seeking development, only to have the producer collude with the director to embezzle all the money on filming day. No matter who it was, this would be hard to accept, right?

So even though Shen Qianzhan was dispirited like a dog at the time, she had to step forward and clean up the mess before her.

“I used the remaining money I had to dismiss the crew and wrote an IOU. The rented filming venue wouldn’t refund money, so I lived in the studio. President Zhao came several times. Initially we could sit down and negotiate peacefully, but after several times, when he realized I truly couldn’t repay the money, he lost patience for further delays.”

“He came from street thug origins and acted without considering consequences, using all kinds of dirty methods. At first it was just bringing people to intimidate, but gradually the situation spiraled out of control. He found my parents’ address and contact information and began threatening that if I didn’t fill the hole, he’d harass my parents.”

She had written IOUs, called police, and been tormented by Zhao Zongchen to the point of nervous breakdown and insomnia.

She had tried every method, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t immediately repay such a large sum in the short term.

“Later when the studio lease expired, I moved back to my rental apartment. Zhao Zongchen might have realized I could actually escape, or maybe his patience was exhausted. He suddenly changed his mind, threatening and enticing me to sell my body to repay the debt. He said he knew many upper-class bigshots who particularly liked desperate little white flowers. If I put in some effort, I might be able to repay the money within three years.”

Her tone was calm, her voice steady, as if describing something completely unrelated to herself.