Early the next morning, Chen An discovered Cheng Lele had developed a low fever.
Perhaps it was from catching cold while filming in the mountains yesterday, or perhaps from last night’s rather intense exercise. Cheng Lele’s face was deathly pale, looking fragile and boneless, her whole body aching terribly. Chen An wanted to take her to see a doctor, but Cheng Lele, for once thin-skinned, was covered in spots and marks all over and refused to lose face like this.
Chen An called a doctor friend he was close with. The friend very graciously advised him that next time they shouldn’t do it too long or too frequently—some people with not-so-great constitutions couldn’t withstand it easily.
Cheng Lele was sick, but her mouth was stubborn, saying it was just from catching cold yesterday, resolutely refusing to take the blame for having a poor constitution.
The friend also said fever reducers just made people feel more comfortable. For her situation, resting for two days would be fine. Drink lots of water, eat light foods, and if it didn’t improve, consider seeking medical treatment.
Although physically weak, Cheng Lele’s heart was still on work. Yesterday’s topic of Liang Yuchao coming to Xingchen to film had greatly boosted Xingchen’s reputation. If they consolidated it again at Christmas, they could reverse the stereotypical impression that Xingchen was inferior to Dahai. Thinking of this, she called Shen Dafeng and remotely directed him to coordinate with the dance club for the Christmas flash mob activity.
“Sis, why is your voice hoarse?” Shen Dafeng noticed something was off as soon as he answered the phone.
“A cold.”
Shen Dafeng said: “Oh, filming is really hard work. You got your voice hoarse even without dialogue lines. If there were lines, that would be even worse.”
For this, Shen Dafeng nearly lost his duty manager position on the spot.
After hanging up, Chen An confiscated Cheng Lele’s phone and ordered her not to work.
Chen An criticized her—when she was young, she pretended to be sick to avoid going to school, but now that she was grown up, she wanted to work while sick. She was too extreme in everything, never taking the middle path.
Later, Chen An brought over a bowl of Chinese medicine the old abbot had brewed.
In stark contrast to her positive attitude toward work and iron will, upon seeing she had to take medicine, Cheng Lele immediately burrowed into the blanket, saying she was so sleepy she couldn’t open her eyes. After Chen An dug her out and first coaxed her with “good baby, good baby,” he later also lost patience and used the boss’s threat of mandatory one-week sick leave as coercive measures, forcing her to comply immediately.
Cheng Lele was so bitter from this medicine that all her features wrinkled together. Chen An wanted to reward her with a kiss, but Cheng Lele was afraid the aftertaste in her mouth would be bitter for the other person, so she turned her head and dodged. Chen An thought Cheng Lele was angry and proactively suggested that if she showed improvement, they could go home in the afternoon.
Perhaps the Chinese medicine brewed by wellness expert old abbot was very effective. By noon, Cheng Lele was lively enough to bounce around chatting with the little monk. The youngest monk in the temple was called Duhang, just over five years old, his hair not shaved, wearing a wide-waisted, loose-sleeved haiqing robe with a round collar and square lapels. Upon asking, his parents had just sent him here to practice.
Life in the temple was very boring. Duhang saw Cheng Lele had a phone and asked if he could watch cartoons.
Cheng Lele guiltily looked around and said: “Come watch in my room.”
When Chen An returned from a lengthy phone call, he discovered Cheng Lele had somehow brought back a little one. The two were lying on the floor mat, heads together, engrossed in watching “Super Wings.”
Cheng Lele was half-lying down, her legs swinging back and forth: “I’m guessing this episode’s protagonist is Dizzy.”
The little one said: “I like Jett.”
Cheng Lele said: “When you grow up a bit you’ll like Dizzy. Dizzy is so cute.”
The little one was very insistent: “Jett.”
Cheng Lele said: “Okay then.” Then the two made eye contact, simultaneously performed an action, and shouted in unison “Every time, on time!”
The scene before him seemed like a miniature of his future family life. Chen An didn’t disturb them, admiringly appreciating the vision for a while, then landing back in reality and helplessly thinking that a certain career-oriented woman still wanted to gallop in the workplace and might not want this kind of life for the time being.
One of the earlier phone calls had been from Quan Zirong. He notified Chen An that as long as he funded the plot of land next to the cinema and ensured it was for public welfare, the government would still support it. The commercial design plans should go through their proper reviews—everything could follow normal procedures.
He immediately contacted a popular scenic spot designer he’d approached years earlier. The other party agreed to find time to come look at the site.
After resolving this matter, he then notified a team from Ping’an Xile, having them sound out whether Kou She Media would accept investment. The projects Chen An worked on were mainly venture capital, rarely touching these mature enterprise units, but he didn’t want to take any risks when it came to Cheng Lele’s matters. His meaning to the team was that if Kou She didn’t have such ideas, don’t waste any more time and immediately switch to negotiating with their rivals.
The ride they’d called was about to arrive. Duhang and Cheng Lele reluctantly parted—mainly the phone reluctantly parting from Cheng Lele. Cheng Lele said “Next time I’ll bring you lots of snacks,” and Duhang’s feelings of reluctance became even more intense.
Cheng Lele patted his head, secretly thinking it was so much better being an adult.