Meng Wanzhou understood only half of what he heard.

He lifted his innocent, naive, yet confused and ignorant eyes from the rising steam of the hot pot: “Are you two Journey to the West fans?”

Fans my ass, more like haters.

Shen Qianzhan fiercely glared at Ji Qinghe—this damn man just knew how to disgust her with his loaded words.

Her silver tongue worked well with everyone else, but when it came to Ji Qinghe, she became mute, never finding the right words to retort.

For that moment, Shen Qianzhan really wanted to splash the Pu-er tea in her hand all over Ji Qinghe’s face.

But it was only for that moment.

Because reason made her see the three major consequences of this action the next second—Bu Zhong Sui would permanently blacklist her, Old Master Ji would become her mortal enemy, and Ji Qinghe would never have anything to do with her again.

Just thinking about these three chain reactions made Shen Qianzhan’s intestines twist into a bow.

The Pu-er tea in her hand suddenly became scalding. She quickly set down the cup, cleared her throat as if to cover up, and changed the subject: “So after reading the proposal, what are your thoughts?”

Ji Qinghe looked at her, his tone calm to the point of being inscrutable: “If I wasn’t certain that the old man didn’t hire a ghostwriter and doesn’t want his twilight years to be in the spotlight, I’d suspect this was a personal biography of Ji Qingzhen that he commissioned someone to write.”

This comment made Shen Qianzhan somewhat uncomfortable.

Even though Ji Qinghe hadn’t used a single intense negative word throughout, and his tone remained consistently stable and indifferent, she still heard the underlying mockery in his words.

“Producer Shen is very similar to Ms. Meng in her younger days—an ambitious person with clear goals who wears her schemes on her face and won’t give up until she achieves her purpose.” Ji Qinghe set down his chopsticks, his gaze extremely light as he glanced at Shen Qianzhan: “When you researched the old man’s biographical materials, weren’t you curious why he never mentioned his marital relationships?”

“After his divorce from Ms. Meng, he hasn’t remarried to this day.” Ji Qinghe’s tone was peaceful, not at all like he was discussing family secrets related to himself, but rather like he was casually summarizing someone else’s life. From expression to tone, everything exuded an air of detached indifference: “Your proposal using the old man as a prototype imposed the artistic effects you wanted and lacks objectivity.”

When Meng Wanzhou caught the words “Ms. Meng,” he unconsciously perked up his ears.

After hearing the entire passage and figuring out that Shen Qianzhan and Ji Qinghe had a client-service provider relationship, he was so shocked that he failed to grip a meatball, splashing soup all over himself.

He wiped himself with tissues while digesting this information, really wanting to advise Shen Qianzhan… Ji Qinghe was dictatorial and tyrannical, full of schemes, a specialist in treating claustrophobia. Of all the people she could collaborate with, why did she have to target Ji Qinghe?

Shen Qianzhan cradled her teacup and thought for quite a while.

The main storyline about the protagonist in the proposal was undoubtedly developed based on Old Master Ji as the prototype. Although the romantic subplot was only mentioned briefly in passing, just looking at the supporting characters added to advance the plot, it wasn’t hard to guess the emotional hardships the protagonist would encounter.

To put it bluntly, if the screenwriter lost control, a personal biography might turn into a romantic biography.

Thinking from his perspective, Shen Qianzhan found it quite hard to accept.

Especially since she hadn’t anticipated at the time that Old Master Ji’s romantic experiences would actually be connected to Bu Zhong Sui.

Now all of Ji Qinghe’s concerns and behavior had reasonable explanations.

She followed the timeline, connecting the entire project from bidding, contract signing, and preparation into several clear time blocks:

April this year at the film industry summit, Bai Xuan released the first concept trailer for the tribute drama and officially began investment recruitment.

May: Shen Qianzhan, representing Qiandeng Pictures, secured the first collaboration with Bai Xuan using the theme of craftsmanship in watch restoration.

June: Shen Qianzhan went to Xi’an to see the Shaanxi Museum timepiece exhibition. That day, she met Ji Qinghe.

October and November: Shen Qianzhan returned to Xi’an to request Old Master Ji to come out of retirement as the project’s special consultant.

December: She unexpectedly reunited with Ji Qinghe, who represented Bu Zhong Sui’s investment interest in the project.

Setting aside the messy personal account between the two, Ji Qinghe’s appearance was perfectly reasonable.

According to Ji Qinghe’s logic, he had seen the proposal and was dissatisfied with using the old master as a prototype for sensational purposes. Out of protection for the old master’s reputation and seeking some mutually beneficial goal that Shen Qianzhan had yet to discover, he brought capital into the project to control its direction.

Nothing wrong with that.

After clarifying the key points, Shen Qianzhan cut straight to the chase: “So Mr. Ji is very interested in the project, with the only concern being worry that our side might make unrealistic artistic modifications for ratings and explosive moments, thereby affecting Old Master Ji’s reputation?”

Ji Qinghe showed no reaction to Shen Qianzhan’s displayed sharpness and wisdom. He rubbed the ear of the azure porcelain teacup, his dark pupils reflecting several shallow ripples under the light.

He curved his lips slightly and smiled faintly: “I thought Producer Shen would need to go around a few more corners before understanding my good intentions.”

Shen Qianzhan scoffed and nearly rolled her eyes: “Mr. Ji could actually speak plainly. In business, as long as there are mutually beneficial goals, no grudge can’t be resolved.”

Ji Qinghe raised an eyebrow slightly, dismantling her position without showing any mercy just because she was a woman: “Is that so?”

“From Producer Shen’s attitude last night, I thought our next meeting would be at a funeral—either you lying down or me lying down.”

Shen Qianzhan: “…” She felt she didn’t have to be lying down in any situation.

Meng Wanzhou kept his eyes on his nose and nose on his heart, holding back tears while burying his head in eating.

What could he have been thinking to invite Producer Shen to stay for dinner? Now he was practically halfway into the coffin.

After the meal, considering that Meng Wanzhou’s constant head-down eating wasn’t good for his health, Shen Qianzhan requested that Ji Qinghe step aside for a private conversation.

The depth of their earlier discussion had already dispelled most of Shen Qianzhan’s resistance to their collaboration, but there was still half remaining. While they could still coexist peacefully, they needed to hurry and discuss a solution.

“Since Mr. Ji has collaborative intentions and Qiandeng also hopes both parties can reach a collaborative consensus soon, I’ll have Su Zan come over tomorrow to bring you the contract to review?” Shen Qianzhan brought out the gentle consideration she reserved for client daddies, testing quietly: “Or could you give me your legal department’s contact information so our legal departments can interface directly?”

“Contract?” Ji Qinghe asked: “What contract?”

The two were currently in Time Hall’s front reception hall.

The lighting was sparse and dim. The corner of his mouth was half-hidden beneath the azure cup, making the curve unclear.

But vaguely, he was smiling.

Shen Qianzhan looked at the calculating expression he only showed when they were alone, momentarily overwhelmed: “Why doesn’t Mr. Ji just be direct?”

“I said before,” Ji Qinghe leaned forward slightly, his eyes hidden behind glasses lifting just enough to release exactly the right amount of pressure: “I hope there won’t come a day when Producer Shen needs to come begging.”

Shen Qianzhan dropped all pretense and retorted impatiently: “Isn’t today exactly that day?”