Chapter 21

This was a path Shen Li had never even considered:

Someone pairing Qian Xingzhi up with another person right in front of him.

Ever since he and Qian Xingzhi had gotten together when they were seventeen, Shen Li had never once doubted the man’s sincerity toward him.

And so, while they were together, Shen Li had never given much thought to whether they were a good match.

What did it matter if they were? What did it matter if they weren’t?

After all, they would never break up over a single word from someone else. But now that they had parted ways, Shen Li sometimes found himself wondering if they had been mismatched from the very start.

Lin Xu’s offhand remark caught him off guard, prompting Shen Li to actually mull it over for a moment.

Was Qian Xingzhi a good match for someone else?

Someone like Qian Xingzhi probably deserved a partner who was even more passionate, more vibrant, more endearing than him—at the very least, someone who could stir his emotions and catch all the love he had to give.

Whereas someone like Shen Li, shrouded in tragedy, living on borrowed time—dull, taciturn, devoid of life’s little joys, lacking any social connections, and no longer young—

Was indeed not a good match for Qian Xingzhi.

It wasn’t self-deprecation; it was simply the truth.

Coming at it from that angle, Qian Xingzhi really had no reason to come looking for him anymore.

With his current social standing and personality, Qian Xingzhi could find a suitable partner far better than Shen Li in a heartbeat.

“Why aren’t you saying anything, Shen Li?”

Lin Xu didn’t pick up on the shift in the atmosphere at all. Shen Li’s cool voice responded flatly, a touch dismissive: “I’m not too familiar with it, so I won’t comment.”

With that, Shen Li left the balcony first, leaving Lin Xu and Kris exchanging bewildered glances.

“What’s his deal?” Lin Xu asked Kris.

Kris shrugged, indicating she had no idea.

The moment should have passed without further incident.

But not far from the balcony, on a pair of green rattan lounge chairs, Yang Zhiqi and Ke Jiujiu both raised their right hands, pushing their sunglasses up onto their foreheads as they watched the direction Shen Li had gone.

“Brother Yang,” Ke Jiujiu said, “do you think it’s possible that this Shen Li and that big-shot actor Qian were a couple back in the day?”

Yang Zhiqi grinned and glanced in Shen Li’s direction too. He lowered his voice as he replied to Ke Jiujiu, “Here’s the thing, Little Ke. You might not know this, but Qian Xingzhi and I collaborated on projects three or five years ago. We’re friends. I know him well. Back when we worked together, Qian Xingzhi was this super aloof and arrogant guy—”

“Brother Yang, can you get to the point?” Ke Jiujiu interrupted, pouting her cute little mouth. “If you start from the beginning of time, we’ll be here till the show ends, and I still won’t have the full story.”

“Ow, hear me out,” Yang Zhiqi said. He shoved his sunglasses further back, hooking the arms securely behind his head, and continued, “The point is, because Qian Xingzhi is so aloof and arrogant, there’s no way he’d ever be with someone like Shen Li.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“It’s life experience, kid. You’re young, your perspective’s still pretty narrow, and you’re not great at reading people yet.” Yang Zhiqi gestured with his hand, drawing it level with his chest. “Your understanding’s about here. Mine’s not super high, but it’s a little higher than yours—”

He raised his hand a bit more, trying to elaborate.

But Ke Jiujiu’s brows furrowed tighter, her impatience growing as she cut him off again. “Come on, Brother Yang, stop messing with my head. In my eyes, out of everyone in this little house, there’s no one who pairs well with Shen Li. And if we look at the eight guests announced in the observation room? The only possible match is Qian Xingzhi. I can’t think of another celebrity that a guy like Shen Li would even glance at.”

“Fine, fine. If you’re so sure, let’s make a bet. You game?”

“Bet accepted,” Ke Jiujiu said with a pout. “One pack of smokes, deal?”

“Sure. If Shen Li and Qian Xingzhi were a thing before, I’ll give you two. If not, you owe me one.”

“Tsk! Generous as always, Brother Yang!” Ke Jiujiu grinned triumphantly. “Consider those two packs mine already.”

“Yeah, right?” Yang Zhiqi said confidently. “No way they were together. If they were, I’d eat my hat upside down.”

Ke Jiujiu’s smile faltered slightly, and she muttered in disgust, “Okay, but we don’t need to go that far. Now you’re just tricking me out of snacks…”

Shen Li, of course, had no idea that someone had placed yet another bet on him.

Back in his room, he steadied the rickety chair with its uneven legs and used it to do a makeshift rehab exercise for his own bum leg. His mind was a whirlwind of scattered thoughts, making it hard to focus on the movements.

Until a commotion erupted outside his door. Listening closely, he realized it was the Program Group and the director organizing interviews about last night’s “hot tub confessions,” focusing only on the two pairs voted on by the audience.

Shen Li figured it had nothing to do with him and thought he could squeeze in a bit more practice.

But a few minutes later, the follow-shot director knocked, reminding him to change clothes and get ready. They were heading out soon to the site of today’s “daytime production” activity—a one-hour drive, departing around eleven.

Shen Li thought, But Lin Xu and the other three haven’t finished their interviews yet.

The director was already telling him, “We’ll drop off the other four first. If you need a water bottle or any meds, grab them yourself. You might not be back tonight.”

Shen Li paused.

Might not be back?

The director had chosen his words carefully.

Out of professional habit—anticipating developments—Shen Li quickly assessed the situation. Today’s production activity was probably like yesterday’s shooting game: officially “participating in production,” but really just some game segments.

As for not returning tonight, it might tie into the new property development announcement.

And the director had specified a one-hour drive…

In Shen Li’s judgment, it was either some remote village or smack in the city center—both about an hour away.

But with the show’s massive popularity right now, hauling a big crowd to the provincial capital’s CBD in broad daylight seemed unlikely.

So, standing at his door, Shen Li thought it over, glanced down at his shoes, and ultimately swapped them for a pair of rugged hiking boots that could handle mud and water. He stomped lightly, testing the grip.

In the mirror, slim dark jeans hugged his long, powerful legs perfectly, a sliver of pale skin at the ankles contrasting sharply with the dark shoes.

He topped it off with a brown-and-white wide-striped polo shirt: new, bought for $3.49 on a bargain-bin shopping app.

To look decent on camera, he’d ordered it ahead of time. The size was a bit big, but in a casual style, that was fine—it just left half his collarbone exposed.

In half a minute, Shen Li was dressed and ready. He grabbed his thermos, the Program Group’s iPad, compared the expiration dates on two bottles of stomach meds, pocketed the one expiring sooner—along with his plain ring—

Just then, the director who’d summoned him earlier hurried back with a changed plan.

“Don’t get on the Program Group van yet. Head east from the house—there’s a Haval H9 with plates ending in 515. Get in that one. Someone needs to see you urgently.”

Shen Li’s brows furrowed instinctively, his expression shifting as realization dawned. He headed out at once, even breaking into a jog down the stairs.

As he neared, spotting the familiar black SUV, he slowed his steps.

His heart pounded wildly.

He even straightened his clothes a bit before leaning in to peer at the passenger seat.

Empty.

But there was a familiar figure in the driver’s seat.

Without a second thought, Shen Li yanked open the passenger door and slid in. Uncharacteristically polite words tumbled from his mouth. “Director Guan, what brings you here?”

“Hmph, what do you think? You think I wanted to come? If not for all the messes you’ve stirred up, would I be here?!”

As the words landed, Shen Li followed his old boss’s gaze in the rearview mirror and spotted Qian Xingzhi stuck in the back seat like some freebie gift with purchase—utterly lacking any self-awareness of being one.

The man wore sunglasses and sprawled out arrogantly in the back, one leg boldly crossed over the other. Anyone unfamiliar might think he was posing for a magazine shoot in a squad car.

Shen Li’s brows knitted in mild distaste as he shot Qian Xingzhi a glance.

But his words were directed at someone else. “Director Guan, he’s just an ordinary concerned citizen reporting a case…”

“You’re defending him?! Just reporting a case?!”

It was a sweltering summer day, and Director Guan’s temper was already frayed. Shen Li’s comment nearly set him off like a firecracker. One hand on the steering wheel, he jabbed a finger at Shen Li’s nose and scolded fiercely.

“Little Shen, after all those years on the front lines, and not even a year after quitting, you say something like that to my face? Your ex-husband is trying to leverage the show’s hype to spotlight his grudge against Wang Cheng Group, using public opinion to pressure us into rushing the investigation for his own ends. What do you call that behavior? Tell me!”

“Hey now, Deputy Director, that’s not fair,” Qian Xingzhi cut in, unable to sit still any longer. He leaned forward, gripping the back of the driver’s seat with one large hand, perfectly serious. “What did I even do? What have I exposed? As an upstanding citizen doing my civic duty—even handing over evidence to deliver justice for the victim—how did you twist that into this?”

“Then tell me, aren’t you doing this show to shine a light on Wang Cheng Group?”

“I’m discussing it with you all, aren’t I? If things move fast and the police issue a public alert, isn’t that standard procedure?” Qian Xingzhi replied as if it were the most obvious thing.

Director Guan had never liked him and shot back, “I think you just want the drama! Mid-filming, bam—suspect arrested on the spot. That’s the effect you’re after, right?”

Qian Xingzhi leaned back against the seat, his handsome face beneath the sunglasses as shameless as ever.

“No wonder you’re deputy director and not the full chief. Your mindset’s not quite there yet. Punishing evil and upholding justice isn’t just what I, Qian Xingzhi, want. It’s what all the people want. Right, Shen Li?”

“Quit calling him! Hooking up with you was the biggest mistake of Shen Li’s life, and thank goodness he’s fixed it now! Shen Li, if you dare remarry this scoundrel, don’t bother showing your face to me again!”

It had been a while since Shen Li had heard these two bickering, and now that he had, it stirred a mix of nostalgia and exasperation.

He was caught in a tough spot—his master, who had taken him under his wing the moment he joined the team, on one side, and Qian Xingzhi on the other. Siding with either would be a mistake. Yet if he tried to jump in, he wouldn’t even know what to say. In the end, he pulled the conversation back to business.

Shen Li’s voice came out calm and even. “Master, we’re about to head out. You must have some important instructions since you came all this way?”

“Hmph.” Guan Ning shot Qian Xingzhi a vicious glare. “I just wrapped up a meeting and swung by to give you a quick reminder. Until we’ve verified every last fact and piece of evidence, you cannot breathe a word of this on the show!

“Absolutely forbidden. We won’t tolerate anyone using public opinion to meddle with—or worse, hijack—the investigation and prosecution of criminal cases. And no creating massive waves of negative sentiment either! If the public ends up riled up and unhappy, you’ll answer to me!”

“Yes.” Shen Li immediately lowered his gaze in assent. His long lashes fluttered once, and then he added thoughtfully, “…Master, I won’t bring it up on my end, no matter what. But I’m worried about Jiang Nan. The moment he gets access to a phone, someone might tip him off. What if he starts blabbing nonsense?”

“That’s why you need to keep an eye on him.”

Guan Ning shifted the car into gear and cut the engine. “While you’re on the show, watch that Jiang fellow for me. Don’t let him stir up trouble or slip away. I’m here mostly to tell you this in person, but next I’ll go talk to your head honcho. I’ll have them scrap that phone segment or whatever excuse they need to use—anything to keep Jiang and his ex-wife from making calls. We can’t risk anyone feeding them information.

“If Qian Xingzhi’s evidence all checks out as legit, Jiang’s looking at charges for rape, organized prostitution, and more. He might not wriggle out of it entirely, but that mouth of his… Like I said, no one’s allowed to whip up any negative buzz that threatens social harmony and stability.”

“Yes.”

Shen Li acknowledged it again, a familiar surge of duty swelling in his chest. His back straightened, his old bearing returning in full.

Guan Ning slid him a sidelong glance and grunted in approval. He peered into the rearview mirror at the overly helpful citizen Qian Mou, then addressed Shen Li. “You coming with me now to track down your boss? Or you want to chat with this deadweight who tagged along in my car?”

Shen Li ducked his head, looking every bit the obedient pupil weighing his options—though in truth, he knew Guan Ning’s bark was worse than his bite. The man talked tough, but giving Qian Xingzhi a ride showed his heart was softer than he let on.

“Then… maybe… chat with the deadweight for a bit?” Shen Li didn’t dare meet Guan Ning’s eyes.

The words had barely left his mouth when Guan Ning exploded. “Useless brat! And you’re just as bad!”

In the next instant, he stormed out of the car, slamming the door with a resounding bang—like a heartbroken old father at his wit’s end.

Only after the little old man’s figure had receded five or six meters did Shen Li finally turn around to face Qian Xingzhi in the back seat.

The man even had the corners of his mouth turned up, looking downright smug.

Shen Li kept his face stern, brows furrowed, in no mood for it. The words he’d been itching to say from the moment he laid eyes on Qian Xingzhi finally tumbled out. “Why’d you ride with him? And in the back seat, no less? Treating my master like some rideshare driver?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Qian Xingzhi slipped off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of deep, bright eyes sparkling with amusement. He looked utterly aggrieved. “He told me to get lost—said I was cramping his style and messing with his driving. I offered to take the wheel, but he snapped that it’s a squad car. Who am I to touch it? So yeah, I ended up back here.”

Shen Li: …

He tried to hold onto his stern expression, but his clear eyes softened all on their own.

Qian Xingzhi was still the same as ever…

Hilariously deadpan.

“Then why’d you even come?” Shen Li asked him.

“What do you think?” Qian Xingzhi shot back.

“…”

Shen Li’s brows knitted together. He turned his head away from Qian Xingzhi’s too-blunt stare, his tone turning icy and clipped, laced with forced severity. “I’m asking you. You want me to spell it out?”

“You’re asking the obvious.”

No sooner had he said it than Qian Xingzhi swung his long legs over, shifting from behind the driver’s seat to the one behind Shen Li. He leaned in close, his face suddenly inches away, the bridge of his straight nose brushing near Shen Li’s left ear. His warm breath ghosted over Shen Li’s earlobe.

“—I’m scared that old codger will turn you against me. Badmouth me behind my back until you really start hating me.”

Shen Li’s narrow phoenix eyes curved upward. After a long pause, his voice drawled out slow and deliberate. “You think I need him for that? I already hate you.”

Qian Xingzhi’s expression stiffened for a split second.

Huh?

Hmph.

He released his grip on the passenger-side headrest and leaned back, dropping his voice into an exaggeratedly deep timbre. Playing along with Shen Li’s line to salvage some dignity, he said, “So what? It’s not like I’m all that crazy about you either.”

Shen Li blinked, following his lead. “Fine by me. We’re divorced anyway—you’re free to like whoever. You and that Lian Xiaoqi seem like a perfect match.”

Lian Xiaoqi—the character from his costar in his last drama. Shen Li had actually watched it. And remembered the name!

“You watched my show. Does that mean I’m on your mind?”

Shen Li: ?

Satisfied enough, Qian Xingzhi scooted closer once more. Lightning-quick, he latched onto Shen Li’s headrest and pressed in, his strikingly handsome face hovering right up against Shen Li’s icy one. Without giving him a chance to deny it, he bulldozed ahead with the next question, all dominant energy.

“When do you want me to show up?”

Shen Li reeled at the abrupt pivot—three, maybe five seconds to even process it. Then that guy Qian, ever the purveyor of dirty jokes, clarified, “On the show, I mean.”

Only then did Shen Li clock how loaded “When do you want me to show up?” truly was—familiar and ripe for misinterpretation. His face darkened on the spot. “Save the explanation. No one’s twisting it to mean anywhere else.”

Qian Xingzhi’s gaze, heavy with innuendo, roamed over Shen Li’s face. “If your mind wasn’t in the gutter, why even bring up ‘anywhere else’?”

Shen Li: .

That pretty face of his flushed white, then red in an instant.

He’d always been thin-skinned, no good at banter. Qian Xingzhi used to get a kick out of that look—until he stepped on the cat’s tail and got nipped by his lovely little cat, anyway.

Shen Li offered a faint smile, his eyes sweeping over Qian Xingzhi. A ghost of mockery tugged at his lips. “Rest easy. You won’t be getting into anywhere else ever again, ex-husband.”