Chapter 16: Doctor Bottom x Celebrity Top

As Jing Chi’s popularity continued to climb, and with his recent contract termination leaving him a free agent, a slew of companies came knocking, all eager to sign him.

For the first time, Jing Chi stared at his phone buzzing eight times a day and felt the real headaches of stardom.

His original plan had been simple: clear the original host’s name, then bow out gracefully.

But as he scrolled through the fans’ comments online, a strange new feeling stirred in his chest.

Being liked and cared for by so many people—it wasn’t half bad.

And truth be told, he didn’t hate acting. He even enjoyed losing himself in different roles.

So now he was tempted to stick around the entertainment industry. The only problem? He had no idea which company to sign with.

Clutching the stacks of contracts that had been hand-delivered to his door, Jing Chi knocked on the door to Feng Qinghan’s study.

“Come in,” came the voice from inside. He pushed the door open right away and strode in, saying, “Brother, I’ve got something I want your take on.”

Feng Qinghan set aside his work and closed his laptop. He fixed his gaze on the young man, his voice soft. “What’s on your mind?”

Days had passed since the kidnapping, and things between them had finally settled back into their old rhythm. If anything, Jing Chi sensed that Feng Qinghan had grown even gentler than before.

The one hitch? The man dodged any hint of physical closeness like the plague.

Jing Chi was starting to wonder if he was asexual. All he could do was sigh to himself.

“Brother, which company do you think I should go with?”

Jing Chi spread the contracts out neatly on the desk in front of Feng Qinghan.

Feng Qinghan’s eyes immediately landed on a familiar name: Shengyi Entertainment, a subsidiary of Feng Corporation.

His expression didn’t change as he meticulously reviewed every single one from start to finish. Then, casually, he slid the Shengyi contract out from the pile.

“This one’s solid. But we could tweak the terms a little.”

Jing Chi didn’t think twice about it. “What needs changing?”

He’d reviewed them himself earlier. Shengyi was a strong choice—they’d launched a Film Emperor and a Film Queen, and one of the hot Four Little Flower Dans was on their roster too.

“Set up a meeting with their rep tomorrow. Negotiate face-to-face.” Feng Qinghan glanced at Jing Chi’s puzzled face and added the suggestion.

“Got it. I’ll leave you to it then, Brother.” Jing Chi grabbed the contract, satisfied, and headed out.

The door had barely clicked shut behind him when Feng Qinghan dialed Father Feng.

“Qinghan? What’s up—finally remembered your old man?”

“Have you been to the hospital for that checkup?” Feng Qinghan led with that.

Father Feng still marveled at it. He’d always figured he was fit as a fiddle, but the full-body scan had turned up a few minor issues—nothing serious since they’d caught them early.

“No major problems. Just needs some care and treatment.”

Feng Qinghan murmured his acknowledgment, then pivoted smoothly. “Dad, who’s running Shengyi these days?”

Puzzled but obliging, Father Feng replied, “Xiao Liu—you remember, my old assistant. Shengyi needed a GM, so I sent him over.”

For a split second, Father Feng lit up, thinking his son was finally taking an interest in the family business. But then:

“Got it. Thanks, Dad. Gotta go.”

The line went dead.

“Hey, that damn kid.”

Father Feng scowled at his phone, sensing something fishy. He fired off a WeChat to Xiao Liu right away.

[Xiao Liu, Young President Feng might reach out soon. Keep me posted on whatever he wants.]

[Got it, Chairman Feng.]

Not even half an hour later, Xiao Liu was on the line.

“Chairman Feng, Young President Feng called about an artist’s contract.”

Father Feng’s eyebrows shot up. “Who?”

“Jing Chi.”

“Understood. Flag any updates for me.”

“Will do, Chairman Feng.”

“Jing Chi… Jing Chi.” Father Feng repeated the name under his breath.

“Xiao Ye, pull up everything you can find on this Jing Chi,” he instructed his assistant.

“Right away, Chairman Feng.”

The assistant turned to go, but Father Feng called him back—then waved him off. “Never mind. Scratch that.”

With the fragile thaw in his relationship with his son finally underway, Father Feng decided against rocking the boat.

~~~

Coffee shop.

Jing Chi stirred his coffee, glancing up to study the woman seated across from him.

She was dressed in a sharp white suit, her face lightly made up, radiating poise and professionalism.

“Hello, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Jiang Yi, the manager from Shengyi Entertainment.”

Jing Chi might not have recognized most people, but he certainly knew this woman.

After all, she had launched the previous Film Emperor.

“Miss Jiang, hello,” Jing Chi said with a smile.

Jiang Yi studied the young man before her.

His looks were flawless, his acting solid—a rough gem ready to be polished into something extraordinary.

That assessment was precisely why she had agreed to take him on.

“What are your thoughts on the contract?” Jiang Yi asked, cutting straight to the chase.

“Will you restrict me from dating?”

Jiang Yi’s expression froze. She hadn’t expected such a bold question right out of the gate. With anyone else, she would have laid out the pros and cons, but faced with Jing Chi, she could only steel herself and reply, “No, we won’t.”

Surprise flickered in Jing Chi’s eyes. Most entertainment companies forbade their artists from having relationships.

“Then I’ll only take one project a year?”

“You’ll fight for the resources I want?”

“Seventy percent of the revenue to me, thirty to you?”

Jiang Yi nodded along to every demand, though her expression grew increasingly peculiar.

Jing Chi began to wonder. They were agreeing to everything—how could the company be so generous?

Sensing his skepticism, Jiang Yi quickly explained, “You don’t need to question my motives. You’ve probably heard that Shengyi Entertainment has an excellent reputation in the industry. We’re backed by the Feng Group, so resources are never an issue.”

The mention of the Feng Group made everything click for Jing Chi.

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he smiled. “Miss Jiang, everything except the dating clause can follow the contract as is.”

The contract she had prepared was an S-Level one, with exceptionally favorable terms.

Jiang Yi let out a breath of relief. “Then here’s to a pleasant partnership.”

Jing Chi signed with swift, decisive strokes.

Jiang Yi tucked the contract away. “You don’t need to worry about the fallout from those earlier incidents. The company will handle cleaning them up.”

“By the way, are you still planning to join that variety show? I’m sure the director has already sent you an invitation.”

Jing Chi had initially wanted to decline, but he realized it would be a great opportunity to hone his acting skills. He hesitated for a moment.

“From now on, I’ll call you Sister Jiang Yi. What do you think—should I participate?”

He decided it was worth consulting this top-tier manager.

Surprise flashed in Jiang Yi’s eyes. She had assumed someone with his background would be arrogant and headstrong.

“You know how well this episode has been received. It’s a huge boost for you. Plus, the grand prize for the champion is the lead role in Yuexing’s Long Song Thousand Crossings. It’s an S-Level production aimed straight at the awards circuit, with a cast stacked with veteran actors. Given our current options, it’s the best opportunity available.”

“Got it, Sister Jiang Yi,” Jing Chi replied after a moment’s thought. He decided to go for it. He enjoyed the short-drama format—it let him dive into different lives in a compact timeframe.

“Then I’ll leave the follow-up negotiations with the program group to you, Sister Jiang Yi.”

The young man’s eyes curved into gentle arcs, his lips tilting up in a sweet smile. He looked utterly agreeable.

But Jiang Yi knew better. She had seen the dramatic contrast he displayed on screen. Perhaps, she thought, she could forge another path to glory with this man by her side.

.

Night fell under a veil of pale moonlight, dotted here and there with stars.

Gazing out the window, Jing Chi heard the door creak open and scrambled onto the bed.

Feng Qinghan grabbed his pajamas and headed straight for the bathroom.

Jing Chi tugged the blanket down just enough to poke his head out. The sound of running water filled the air, stirring certain thoughts in his mind.

Lately, one mess after another had kept him too busy for idle fantasies. Now that everything was finally sorted, his mind had gone blissfully blank.

A short while later, Feng Qinghan emerged from the bathroom, towel-drying his hair.

Jing Chi’s gaze locked onto the man, roaming from head to toe.

Fresh from the shower, damp strands clung to Feng Qinghan’s forehead. His pale skin had taken on a faint pink flush from the steam, and his eyes gleamed with a soft, misty warmth.

He was like a cold plum blossom, once perched high on a winter branch, now fallen delicately onto Jing Chi’s fingertip—inspiring an urge to crush it recklessly between his fingers.

Feng Qinghan shifted uncomfortably under the unwavering stare, tugging at his collar. The youth’s gaze burned too intensely; he cleared his throat lightly. “What is it?”

Propping his head on one hand, Jing Chi crooked a finger at him, his eyes bending into playful crescents. “Brother, I have some good news. Come here, won’t you?”

Feng Qinghan frowned slightly but still walked over.

When he was one step away from Jing Chi, he stopped.

Jing Chi pouted. “Too far, Brother. Are you afraid I’ll eat you?”

Feng Qinghan felt helpless and edged a little closer.

At that moment, Jing Chi sat up and reached out to loop an arm around Feng Qinghan’s neck, pulling him in.

The man braced his hands on either side of Jing Chi’s body to steady himself. As he looked up, his eyes met the young man’s laughing gaze.

Jing Chi stared at him intently, then feigned surprise. “Brother, you’ve got a water droplet on your face. Let me wipe it off for you.”

Before Feng Qinghan could respond, Jing Chi’s warm lips brushed against his cheek, gently kissing away the faint droplet.

Jing Chi arched a brow, his gaze boldly drifting down to the man’s lips.

But in the next instant, Feng Qinghan pressed a fingertip to Jing Chi’s lips, halting him. “I need to go dry my hair,” he said coolly.

Seeing him about to bolt, Jing Chi quickly kissed the finger resting against his mouth.

Feng Qinghan froze for a second, then yanked his hand back behind him and shot Jing Chi a glare.

He hurried into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

Inside the bathroom, the man lightly rubbed his fingertip. That soft sensation seemed to linger, and a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed with a new message.

It was one of those special alerts from the hospital.

Feng Qinghan’s expression shifted as he read it. The amusement faded completely, replaced by a shadow of solemnity.