Chapter 13: Doctor Bottom x Celebrity Top

It was lunchtime at the hospital.

Feng Qinghan had just returned to his office and sat down when Jing Chi’s words suddenly came back to him.

The young man’s smiling eyes appeared in his mind.

Feng Qinghan stared at the phone on the desk beside him. In the end, he quietly opened the search bar, found the variety show Jing Chi had appeared on, skipped through all the other segments, and pulled straight to Jing Chi’s performance.

He watched intently, the corners of his lips curving up slightly despite himself.

After all, this was a result he had witnessed firsthand—and even helped bring about. There was something indescribably satisfying about it.

A nurse passing by with some supplies happened to glance at his phone screen. To her shock, their Dr. Feng, who had always seemed utterly indifferent to the entertainment industry, was watching a variety show on his break.

She couldn’t contain her curiosity. Feng Qinghan’s image as a strict, no-nonsense doctor was too ingrained for her to imagine him having such a relatable side.

“Dr. Feng, you’re watching this show too?”

Caught red-handed, Feng Qinghan stiffened for a split second before recovering his composure. He lifted his gaze to meet the nurse’s eyes, just as he always did, and replied evenly, “I’m just glancing at it casually.”

With that, he closed his phone, pretending it had been an accident.

But the nurse was already off and running.

“It’s fine, Dr. Feng—I won’t tell a soul. I saw you watching Jing Chi. I love him too! That segment was amazing. He’s drop-dead gorgeous. But… why does he feel a little familiar all of a sudden?”

As she spoke, something seemed to click in her mind.

Feng Qinghan rubbed his forehead, his expression tightening slightly. He knew exactly why she felt that way.

The last time Jing Chi had come looking for him, it was this very nurse whom Jing Chi had teased into laughter. Otherwise, she never would have remembered him after all this time.

“Dr. Feng, he kinda looks like that younger brother who came to see you before,” the nurse said suddenly, smacking her forehead as realization dawned.

That had been days ago, though, and her memory of Jing Chi was fuzzy at best. It was just a vague sense of similarity.

Feng Qinghan kept his expression neutral, his tone firm. “Does he? I don’t see the resemblance.”

The nurse would never dream that the young man and the star on his screen were one and the same. She nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I must have mixed it up. Ha ha.”

Feng Qinghan seemed unusually approachable for once, so the nurse pressed on. “Dr. Feng, have you seen any of the fan edits? You know, the ones with Film Emperor Ye and him? Those two have such great couple chemistry!”

Same-sex marriage had been legal for years now, and no one batted an eye at male-male pairings anymore.

At those words, Feng Qinghan’s expression faltered for a moment before smoothing out again—though it grew noticeably cooler than before.

Sometimes, it was better if people’s memories weren’t quite so sharp.

Film Emperor Ye. Feng Qinghan felt like he’d heard that name somewhere before.

“I even consulted Film Emperor Ye.”

Jing Chi’s earlier musing floated unbidden into his mind.

Seeing the subtle shift in his expression, the nurse assumed she’d overstayed her welcome. “Dr. Feng, I’m sorry—have I been talking too much? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Feng Qinghan snapped back to the present. “No, I just remembered some work I need to finish.”

Ever perceptive, the nurse replied, “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

She even closed the door behind her on the way out.

Her offhand remark lingered in Feng Qinghan’s mind, distracting him as he tried to review the patient files on his desk.

He sighed in exasperation when he spotted yet another mistake and set down his pen.

Who Jing Chi dated was none of his business. He had no right to interfere.

He repeated the thought to himself twice, but then he pulled out his phone anyway and searched for Jing Chi. Sure enough, there were compilation videos of every interaction between the two men on the show.

In the footage, Jing Chi beamed at the other man, his smiles warm and full. A few of those looks struck Feng Qinghan as oddly familiar.

He narrowed his eyes and studied Ye Shumo’s strikingly handsome face. Suddenly, Jing Chi’s words from before echoed in his head.

“Brother, you’re so handsome.”

“Such a handsome face…”

…

And just like that, it clicked.

“So it’s just this face he’s after?” Feng Qinghan murmured to himself.

His fingertip brushed his own cheek. Realizing what he was doing, his face darkened. He tossed the phone aside, rubbed his temples, and bent back over the patient files.

Jing Chi lounged on the sofa with his legs crossed, idly watching TV.

“Host, the comments about you on Weibo are blowing up even more. Do we need to do anything?”

Jing Chi calmly uttered a single word: “Wait.”

It was as if he weren’t the one at the center of the public storm.

“But logically speaking, it shouldn’t have spread this fast,” the System said, sounding puzzled.

Jing Chi rolled his eyes and explained with exasperation, “Of course it’s because someone is fanning the flames behind the scenes.”

The System immediately went on high alert. “Is it that Manager?”

“No, he’s still wary of whether I have backups of that recording.” Jing Chi paused for a moment. “My guess is it’s Bai Yusheng.”

No sooner had Jing Chi spoken than the System went off to verify. A moment later, it returned, eyes full of admiration. “Host, you’re incredible. It was him, exactly.”

Jing Chi shook his head in disdain. “It’s not that I’m incredible—it’s that you’re too dense. After all, in the Entertainment Industry right now, besides that Manager, the only other person who has it in for me is Bai Yusheng.”

“Host, should we do something about it? He’s bullying you way too much.”

Jing Chi waved it off. “Not yet. Let him keep stirring the pot for now. The bigger the scandal blows up, the stronger the public’s guilt will be once we clear things up.”

Seeing how confident his Host was, the System decided to trust him without question.

Just then, the villa door opened.

Jing Chi shot upright, snatched the contract, and hurried over to Feng Qinghan’s side. He beamed up at him. “Brother, I’ve got some great news for you.”

Feng Qinghan merely lifted his gaze coolly, gave him a glance, and responded with a simple “Mm.”

“Brother, aren’t you curious what it is?” Jing Chi blinked.

Feng Qinghan fixed his stare on Jing Chi. His gaze lingered for two seconds before shifting away, his tone carrying a chill. “Not curious.”

Jing Chi sensed something was off, but he figured it was just work fatigue. So he volunteered the information. “Brother, I’ve terminated my contract with the company.”

At those words, a flicker of surprise flashed in Feng Qinghan’s eyes—but only for an instant. He started to say something, but then his earlier suspicions resurfaced, cooling his expression once more. In the end, all he said was, “Congratulations.”

Jing Chi: “???”

Something was wrong. Very wrong. Extremely wrong.

As Feng Qinghan turned to leave, Jing Chi lunged forward and grabbed him, tugging cautiously at his clothes. “Brother, what’s going on with you today? Did I do something to upset you?”

Feng Qinghan’s gaze landed on the young man’s bewildered eyes. He held back, and held back some more, but finally he couldn’t resist asking, “The person who taught you acting was Ye Shumo?”

How had Film Emperor Ye gotten dragged into this?

Jing Chi was baffled, but he nodded anyway—and couldn’t help adding some praise. “Yeah, Film Emperor Ye has amazing acting skills, and he’s really handsome too.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Jing Chi caught Feng Qinghan’s expression darkening further. A bad feeling bloomed in his chest.

He really shouldn’t have tacked on that last part. His emotional intelligence had chosen that exact moment to finally kick in.

Sure enough, Feng Qinghan let out a cold scoff. He tugged at his tie and closed in on Jing Chi.

One step. Two steps.

Jing Chi backed away on instinct until his shoulders hit the chill of the wall.

“Bro—Brother?” he ventured hesitantly.

To his surprise, Feng Qinghan braced one hand against the wall beside him and leaned in close.

A faint smile suddenly curved the man’s lips. It was breathtakingly beautiful, different from his usual ones—the slight uptilt of his eyes carried a seductive edge, and even the teardrop mole beneath them seemed to shimmer.

Jing Chi swallowed hard. His heartbeat sped up uncontrollably.

Any other time, he’d have tossed out a couple of flirty quips without hesitation. But today, the words stuck in his throat.

Mimicking Jing Chi’s old moves, Feng Qinghan leaned in toward his ear. His voice dropped low, laced with temptation. “So, am I handsome?”

Warm breath ghosted over his ear, the man’s handsome face mere inches away.

Jing Chi blurted out a response without thinking. “Of course you’re handsome, Brother.”

But Feng Qinghan’s face instantly turned icy. He took two steps back and said gravely, “So the only reason you’ve stuck around here is because I’m good-looking?”

“Then if you run into someone even more handsome than me, you’ll just pack up and leave on the spot?”

Without waiting for Jing Chi to reply, he turned and headed upstairs.

“That’s not it at all! Who said I stayed because of your looks?”

Jing Chi trailed after him, explaining desperately as he tried to block his path—but Feng Qinghan sidestepped him.

Feng Qinghan didn’t break stride. He went straight upstairs, entered the study, and slammed the door shut with a bang.

Jing Chi nearly felt the door slam right into his face.

“What the hell?” He wasn’t sure if he was asking the System or just himself.

The System, for once acting sharp, quickly checked and relayed to him everything that had happened between Feng Qinghan and Ye Shumo earlier that day.

Suddenly, it all clicked. “Oh,” Jing Chi said. “He thinks I was beaming at Ye Shumo because the guy’s so damn handsome, and then he connects the dots to himself—figuring I’m sticking around only because he’s easy on the eyes too?”

The old Jing Chi would’ve just nodded and said, “You got it exactly right.”

That had been part of it at the start, sure. But after spending these past days together, something in him had shifted.

It wasn’t some earth-shattering love, but it sure as hell wasn’t as shallow or superficial as Feng Qinghan imagined.

Clutching his chest, Jing Chi felt a pang at the man’s suspicions.

“Then do you want to explain things to him, Host?” the System suggested.

“Explain what?” Jing Chi scoffed. “Your Host has a temper too, you know.”

Less than a minute later, though, he was already backpedaling. “Fine, considering how pitiful he used to be, I’ll clear it up with him tonight before we sleep.”

But when evening rolled around, Jing Chi waited ages with no sign of Feng Qinghan. By the time he checked the clock, it was already one in the morning.

He slipped out of bed and padded over in his slippers. Light spilled from under the study door, so he knocked.

No answer. He pushed it open and stepped inside, only to find the man slumped over his desk.

The night air had turned chilly, and Feng Qinghan was wearing nothing but a thin shirt.

Jing Chi frowned, starting forward—then froze as Feng Qinghan stirred and sat up on his own.

Spotting Jing Chi in the doorway, the man’s gaze lingered for a beat before going flat. “Something you need?” he asked coolly.

It was like nothing had happened at all. But Jing Chi could sense the sudden distance in his tone, and he couldn’t help opening his mouth to say something.

Before a word could escape, Feng Qinghan cut him off. “If it’s nothing important, I’ve got a ton of work to finish tonight. You can go.”

His hand dropped to the keyboard beside him, and the sharp clatter of typing filled the quiet room.

Faced with Feng Qinghan’s flat refusal to talk, Jing Chi had no choice but to back out and close the door behind him.

Only once the sound of Jing Chi’s footsteps faded away did Feng Qinghan’s hands still.

He stared at the spot in the doorway where Jing Chi had stood, his gaze fixed and unblinking.

Truth be told, he regretted those words already. The old him never would’ve been so impulsive—but at the same time, they’d jolted him awake.

Before, he’d thought that if the young man was willing, it’d be fine just to keep him close like that.

But now, Feng Qinghan realized Jing Chi could pull away at any moment.

He might be able to let go now… but what about later?

He knew full well that the more time they spent together, the harder it would be to resist sinking deeper—until he was in too far to climb out.

If Jing Chi decided to leave then, what would he do?

Feng Qinghan suddenly thought of Lu Shichen from his previous life—the man’s obsessive need to keep Gu Bai by his side, even if it meant hurting an innocent like him.

By that point, would he turn into a second Lu Shichen? Refusing to give up on Jing Chi, and in the process, lashing out at someone else?

Sometimes, cutting your losses early was the smarter choice. It would spare Jing Chi future regrets—and prevent him from clinging on until they both ended up resenting each other.

If Jing Chi could’ve heard those thoughts, he’d have just rolled his eyes and said, You’re overthinking it, old man.

After all, he’d come to this world for one person, and one person only.