That’s quite good?

Shen Qianzhan nearly suspected she’d heard wrong.

She was unemployed, not promoted! Where did “quite good” come from?

As for the second half of Ji Qinghe’s statement, it went in one ear and out the other—she didn’t take it to heart at all.

In the adult world, love and marriage were completely different matters. Such words seemed to her lacking in sincerity, more inclined toward playful banter that could be dismissed without serious consideration.

If it were any other time, such jokes would be harmless.

Given Shen Qianzhan’s personality, she wouldn’t be dissatisfied—in fact, she’d be happy to add more spice for him.

But tonight, her physical exhaustion affected her emotions, making her sensitive and fragile.

Like the city bricks and spires of a tall building on the verge of collapse, she was already hanging on by a thread.

If there were no storms, after tonight passed, she could still repair herself reasonably well. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as she wished, preventing her from finding the comfort and solace she’d hoped for from Ji Qinghe.

Thus, the overwhelming sense of loss made it impossible for her to maintain her forced composure and feigned elegance.

The smile in her eyes gradually stiffened and froze until it disappeared.

The surprise and delight she’d felt upon seeing him also seemed like candlelight meeting wind, gradually extinguishing bit by bit.

Shen Qianzhan suddenly felt dispirited and thoroughly uninterested.

“I thought you would comfort me.” Her dark eyes quietly gazed at him for a long moment.

Ji Qinghe was the only observer who knew her detailed past.

Even though she hadn’t talked much about Su Lanyi, with his perceptiveness, he must be able to guess what kind of role Su Lanyi had played in those past years.

Shen Qianzhan had thought that even if not for the upheaval of “unemployment,” Ji Qinghe would at least comfort her for the feelings she’d invested in Su Lanyi.

Unfortunately, he didn’t.

The precarious tower built high in her heart collapsed instantly, stone by stone, leaving only dust and debris scattered on the ground, constantly reminding her of these years of nearly foolish self-deception.

The atmosphere suddenly became somewhat delicate.

But neither of them broke the superficial calm of the moment.

The clock hands gradually moved toward four o’clock.

Someone downstairs got up for a midnight bathroom trip, their shuffling footsteps particularly noisy in the pre-dawn quiet, like a wisp of fireworks fallen to earth, completely burning away the last bit of coolness before night retreated.

Ji Qinghe looked down at her for a while, his hands resting on her waist through a layer of clothing, intermittently caressing the hollow of her waist.

He could feel Shen Qianzhan was angry.

But she was suppressing it, feigning calm. Just from her face, it wasn’t too obvious.

He recalled what he’d said in the past ten minutes.

Women’s thinking differed from men’s—the same situation could produce random reactions depending on the setting, entirely based on her mood.

Clearly, Shen Qianzhan’s current mood wasn’t suitable for hearing him reason with her.

He grew slightly serious, first lifting her down from the table to sit on his lap as he settled into the leather chair.

With Shen Qianzhan’s hands bound by the belt, she had no way to resist, letting Ji Qinghe hold her on his lap.

The conversation with Su Lanyi had exhausted all her patience for emotional control. She was completely unable to manage her expression now, pursing her lips with “displeasure” written clearly across her face.

Ji Qinghe chuckled.

He raised his hand to stroke her dry lips, asking: “Striking first?”

Shen Qianzhan ignored him.

Her anger contained some misdirected emotions. He was better off not asking—once he did, she seemed determined to be stubborn with him, even less willing to speak properly.

“I’m the person most happy to see you quit. You’ve finally come to your senses—why should I go against my true feelings to comfort you?” Ji Qinghe pinched her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze: “Getting angry at me over this—isn’t that a bit unreasonable?”

Shen Qianzhan tilted her chin up slightly, avoiding his hand: “Who told you to be my boyfriend? If I don’t vent my anger on you and find someone else, would you agree?”

He really couldn’t agree to that.

Though it was twisted logic, Shen Qianzhan’s unreasonable confidence turned even the most crooked reasoning into truth.

Ji Qinghe was amused by her. He lowered his head slightly, wanting to kiss her.

Before he could get close, Shen Qianzhan turned her head away first, avoiding him.

Ji Qinghe wasn’t annoyed.

Her willingness to speak meant she wasn’t truly furious.

Shen Qianzhan wasn’t someone who made unreasonable trouble. He pondered for a moment, then ran his fingers through her hair like a comb, slowly smoothing her long locks: “I don’t approve of you continuing to work at Qiandeng.”

“I’ve dealt with Su Lanyi several times. In my view, she’s not a good leader. Your leaving Qiandeng isn’t regrettable.” He looked up at Shen Qianzhan: “It’s just earlier than I expected.”

Upon hearing this, Shen Qianzhan immediately understood—he’d had this figured out long ago but hadn’t told her.

As if knowing what she was thinking, Ji Qinghe gathered her hair in his palm to play with, saying slowly: “Without any conflict between you and Su Lanyi, whether I offered opinions or not was irrelevant. I have to be responsible for what I say, and responsible for your future. Even though I didn’t approve of you continuing at Qiandeng, I fully respected your choice and supported your career and ambitions.” After a pause of a few seconds, he continued: “Since you brought up resignation, Su Lanyi must have stepped on your tail and created bad blood. With your personality, unless conflicts reached an irreconcilable level, you wouldn’t easily abandon work you’d struggled with for years. Not to mention Su Lanyi’s past kindness in helping you through difficult times.”

“That’s also why, even though I felt Su Lanyi wasn’t a suitable tree for you to nest in, I never interfered with your choices or pointed fingers. I didn’t want my thoughts to influence you or put you in a difficult position.”

Shen Qianzhan still didn’t speak, but was somewhat moved.

She tilted her face up slightly to look at him.

Ji Qinghe was focused on wrestling with her long hair and didn’t look at her.

“To put it bluntly, if you and Su Lanyi are fighting, why should I feel sorry for feelings that even the parties involved no longer care about? I just need to take your side.”

This time, Shen Qianzhan finally lifted her eyelids slightly and asked: “Why don’t you like Su Lanyi?”

“It’s not about liking or disliking.” Ji Qinghe squinted at her: “Though Su Lanyi’s private life can’t represent who she is as a person—I don’t comment on that—a person’s behavior and lifestyle habits do affect my judgment of their character.”

“Su Lanyi isn’t good enough to you. That alone is enough for me to look down on her.”

“Su Lanyi isn’t good enough to me?” Shen Qianzhan was surprised: “The treatment she gives me is already considered generous by outsiders. How do you see that she’s not good to me?”

Ji Qinghe’s hand in her hair paused as he asked: “Do you really want to hear this?”

Shen Qianzhan looked at him without speaking.

After thinking for a few seconds, Ji Qinghe said: “Su Lanyi once hinted that she could help me pursue you, create opportunities for us to spend time together. In this regard, she and Xiao Sheng are birds of a feather.”

Though Su Lanyi and Su Zan were siblings, their personalities were completely different.

Shen Qianzhan felt her teeth go cold.

Su Lanyi had never mentioned these things in front of her, though she often inquired about her relationship progress with Ji Qinghe. She hadn’t expected Su Lanyi had been planning to exploit her so early on.

Seeing she could listen now, Ji Qinghe played with her fingers and asked: “So your leaving her is also a good thing. Was I wrong to say ‘that’s quite good’?”

This counter-question completely deflated Shen Qianzhan’s remaining anger.

She and Ji Qinghe thought on completely different dimensions.

No matter how rational and calm she was, she still wanted emotional comfort, but Ji Qinghe’s starting point was the pros and cons of the situation. Without communication, who could have expected they weren’t on the same wavelength?

And her loss of control tonight was entirely due to mental and physical exhaustion.

Who could accept a midlife crisis of career upheaval and unstable relationships?

Night amplified these emotional fluctuations infinitely—the more she cared about someone, the harder it was to control herself. Even small problems could create storms.

But Shen Qianzhan was ultimately in the wrong. Seeing him looking like he was waiting to settle accounts, she cleared her throat and argued nonchalantly: “Couples always have conflicts.”

Ji Qinghe smiled slightly: “Couples?”

His tone suddenly deepened: “Who said she wasn’t suitable for dating? Want to break up?”

This accusation was too heavy—Shen Qianzhan didn’t dare accept it. Seeing the situation racing toward that uncontrollable direction again, she rolled her eyes and very stiffly changed the subject: “I haven’t finished what I was saying earlier.”

“Don’t you want to know why I suddenly decided to resign? At my age, if I leave Qiandeng, wherever I go to start over, I’ll have to readjust and begin from scratch. Not only will previous time be wasted, but my salary level will also drop…”

Ji Qinghe didn’t expose her.

He untied the belt restraining her wrists and rubbed her wrist bones, which had reddened from the leather friction.

He did this silently and attentively.

When Shen Qianzhan noticed, he stopped, glanced at her, and said: “Continue with your hypothetical unemployment crisis.”

Shen Qianzhan was left speechless.

She’d originally wanted to play the victim a bit more, deepen her current pitiful, helpless, and isolated persona… but this man wouldn’t even spare a bit of sympathy.

As she fell silent, Ji Qinghe picked up the conversation: “Do you think I know nothing about your commercial value, so you’re trying to fool me?”

“After you leave Qiandeng, plenty of film companies will want to hire you. Starting over is real, but it’s just getting familiar with a new company and environment. There’s no ‘beginning from scratch’ as you described.”

With Shen Qianzhan’s qualifications, she’d have nothing but upward options after leaving, with a bright future ahead.

“As for wasted time and reduced salary…” Ji Qinghe’s tone was cold and merciless: “You should know best about that.”

“Moreover,” he paused for effect, saying: “Even without relying on any company, your current resume alone is enough for you to go solo. If you want a studio, I can be the behind-the-scenes investor. If you want independent production, that’s even less of a problem. Though it would take more time, returning to the path you once wanted to take would fulfill the dreams of the Shen Qianzhan from ten years ago.”

He saw things more clearly than she did.

During her years at Qiandeng, people had tried to poach her. But previously, she’d never considered leaving Qiandeng, so she’d rejected them all without exception, afraid someone might whisper in Su Lanyi’s ear and make her suspicious.

Even though Shen Qianzhan had decided to resign tonight, before formally speaking out, she hadn’t imagined she and Su Lanyi would reach this point. Let alone finding herself a way out.

But spoken words were like spilled water—impossible to take back.

Even if she and Su Lanyi eventually reconciled, this would become a thorn between them. At this point, everything Su Lanyi did could no longer be explained as unintentional. Shen Qianzhan didn’t consider herself a selfless saint—her relationship with Su Lanyi, having reached this point, could be considered a proper beginning and end.

Originally, Shen Qianzhan had no plans for the future. Though not completely at a loss, the sudden change still caught her off guard, leaving her feeling uncertain.

But after Ji Qinghe’s brief description, it seemed her territory lay before her, waiting for her to ride forth and return to battle.

This moment felt like returning to the day she’d emerged from her low point—before her was a high mountain appearing suddenly through the mist in a canyon. The mountain path wasn’t smooth, with mountain after mountain and valley after valley, waiting for her to set forth again and return to her journey.

She turned to look at Ji Qinghe, who was quietly watching her: “You have that much faith in me?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late to ask?” He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. His lips were soft and warm—when they touched her palm, it was like suddenly activating a switch to her world, sending a tingling sensation through her.