Chapter 21 Part 1

The next morning, Jing Chi arrived at the set brimming with energy.

Gone was the listless air he’d carried every day before. Now he was positively radiant, greeting everyone with a beaming smile, strutting around like a peacock with its tail feathers fully fanned out.

His assistant couldn’t resist reminding him, “Brother Jing, dial it back a bit. One look at you and anyone can guess what you were up to last night.”

Jing Chi paused, pulled out his phone, and flipped to selfie mode.

“Is it that obvious? I think I still look pretty dashing.” He arched an eyebrow, a hint of self-admiration in his tone.

At that moment, a message chimed in from Feng Qinghan—he was heading back.

Jing Chi’s smile collapsed in an instant.

It was like a plump balloon suddenly pricked by a needle.

He darted to the side and dialed back right away, his voice tinged with displeasure. “Brother, why’d you leave so soon? I haven’t even given you a proper tour yet.”

A soft chuckle came through the line, the man’s voice warm and faintly hoarse. “Something came up at the hospital. I know you’ve got less than a month left on set. It’ll be quick.”

As for the hoarseness, that was Jing Chi’s doing.

Jing Chi sighed in resignation. “Fine, fine. Just take care of yourself, Brother. It looked a little swollen when I checked this morning. Make sure you put on some ointment.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end.

Then Feng Qinghan mumbled a vague “Got it” and hung up in a hurry.

Jing Chi could perfectly picture the man blushing to his ears. He stifled a sneaky laugh.

“Alright, let’s get to work.”

Someone called from nearby.

Jing Chi snapped out of his lovesick daze and straightened up. After all, wrapping early meant he could head back sooner.

The assistant watched him switch personas in a flash and couldn’t help but marvel. No wonder Brother Jing’s acting was so spot-on.

Time slipped away like water—especially when someone was burning with impatience.

Sure enough, in under a month, Jing Chi wrapped filming smoothly.

“Cut!” With that final call, the movie reached its end and the curtain fell.

“Congratulations to our leading man on wrapping.”

The director presented a bouquet to Jing Chi.

Jing Chi accepted it graciously, thanked him politely, and flashed a courteous smile.

The director clapped him on the shoulder. His usually stern face broke into a wide grin. “You were fantastic. Just as I expected—you didn’t let me down, Jing Chi.”

Jing Chi waved it off humbly. “It’s all thanks to Director Mu’s guidance these past weeks. I improved so much because of you. Thank you for looking after me.”

Normally, he’d stick around for the wrap party after filming ended. But compared to a dull banquet, Jing Chi wanted nothing more than to rush back to Feng Qinghan.

After knocking back two glasses of wine and saying his goodbyes to the director, he slipped away.

He didn’t even stop to rest after leaving the set, heading straight to the hospital.

Jing Chi sent his assistant home first, then made his familiar way into Feng Qinghan’s office alone.

Conveniently, Feng Qinghan wasn’t there yet. Jing Chi was used to it and settled in to wait.

Five minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. It swung open from the outside.

“Teacher, here’s the chart for bed three.”

The intern doctor looked up—and locked eyes with Jing Chi.

They both froze, staring at each other.

Jing Chi recovered first, raising a hand in hesitant greeting. “Hey?”

He wasn’t wearing a mask inside, so recognition was instant.

“Y-you’re Jing Chi!”

The intern’s voice trembled with excitement. It was his first time being this close to a real-live celebrity.

Jing Chi nodded, offering a kindly smile.

Why kindly? Well, Feng Qinghan was the intern’s teacher, which made Jing Chi an elder by association.

A rare flash of insight struck the intern. He remembered the recent hot search, and his eyes lit up with gossip. “You’re here for Teacher, right? If it’s not too rude, could I ask what your relationship is? Forget I said anything if it is.”

The intern scratched his head awkwardly.

Jing Chi winked playfully, then shot back with a meaningful, “What do you think?”

The intern got the picture immediately.

Jing Chi pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. Don’t tell a soul, okay?”

The intern nodded furiously, like a woodpecker hammering away. Once he was out of the office, it all felt like a dream.

He whipped out his phone and fired off a message to the group chat.

“Extra, extra! Our Teacher Feng has a lover—and you won’t believe who it is!”

“Who is it? Who?”

The comments below exploded with questions.

He looked smug. “I promised to keep it confidential, so I can’t tell you.”

Let you mock me back then. Now I’ve scared you all senseless.

That intern was none other than Xiao C, the one who had previously claimed Feng Qinghan was lovesick.

Once the man left, a smile tugged at Jing Chi’s lips.

Jing Chi never missed a chance to stake his claim. Sooner or later, he’d make their relationship known to everyone.

An hour later, Feng Qinghan returned to the office.

On the way back, he ran into Xiao C. The young man’s eyes burned with excitement, though he reined it in upon seeing him.

“Teacher, I left the report you asked for on the desk.”

Feng Qinghan nodded. Something about the barely contained thrill on Xiao C’s face struck him as strange.

When he pushed open the door and spotted Jing Chi dozing in the chair, understanding dawned.

Feng Qinghan lightened his footsteps as he approached. The young man lay sprawled across the desk, head pillowed on his arms, half his face visible. Faint shadows under his eyes hinted at exhaustion.

He drew near, bent down, and gently brushed Jing Chi’s cheek.

Jing Chi woke instantly, his hand instinctively closing around Feng Qinghan’s fingers. Still drowsy, eyes not fully open, he nuzzled into the man’s palm.

His voice came out low and soft. “Brother, you’re back.”

“Mm.” Feng Qinghan murmured in response.

Jing Chi paused for a moment, then tilted his face up, opening his eyes fully. “Give Brother a kiss.”

The old Feng Qinghan would have refused outright. But not this one—he never denied Jing Chi anything.

He leaned in and brushed their lips together lightly.

As he started to pull away, Jing Chi looped an arm around his neck and drew him back in for another kiss.

Unlike Feng Qinghan’s gentle touch, Jing Chi’s was bold and demanding, claiming every breath as if he couldn’t bear to lose even a trace.

Feng Qinghan’s hand at the young man’s waist clenched suddenly, then eased. The heated kiss sent his eyelashes fluttering and his pulse racing.

When they finally parted, ten minutes had slipped by.

Jing Chi sealed it with one last firm press of his lips, looking utterly content.

“Brother, let’s go grab dinner.”

.

November had arrived, and the evening wind carried a sharp chill. The streets were sparsely populated.

Jing Chi led Feng Qinghan into a lively alley thrumming with food stalls.

This slice of everyday life was a world Feng Qinghan rarely touched.

“Won’t someone recognize you?” Feng Qinghan asked, concern creasing his brow.

Jing Chi shook his head and leaned close to whisper in his ear, “It’s cold out—everyone’s bundled up in hats and masks. We all look the same at a glance, and in a crowd this big, no one will notice us.”

With that, he took Feng Qinghan’s cool fingers and tucked them into his pocket.

He grinned. “There. Nice and warm now.”

Feng Qinghan suddenly realized the spark in the young man’s eyes outshone the lights behind them.

“Boss, one oden—give me this, that, and…”

Feng Qinghan watched from behind as Jing Chi placed the order. Moments later, he returned with steaming skewers.

The heat rose in fragrant waves, topped with a slick of chili oil that made it all the more mouthwatering.

Jing Chi hadn’t had street food like this in ages. The familiar taste brought back memories, like echoes from another life.

“Brother, try it.”

He held a piece to Feng Qinghan’s lips.

The man hesitated, then nibbled tentatively—only to choke, coughing hard several times.

Jing Chi burst out laughing without mercy. “Haha, so even Brother has his weak moments.”

Feng Qinghan shot him a glare.

“Fine, fine. Brother’s better off with something bland anyway, right?”

As he spoke, Jing Chi’s gaze drifted meaningfully downward, laced with suggestion.

Feng Qinghan’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in silence.

Sensing the brewing storm, Jing Chi pivoted instantly. “Brother, that stall over there looks even better. Let’s check it out.”

He tugged him along.

By ten o’clock that night, they were back home.

Jing Chi collapsed onto the sofa without a second thought.

Feng Qinghan, however, wrinkled his nose at the heavy grease clinging to his clothes. Thoroughly repulsed, he abandoned Jing Chi and headed straight for the bathroom.

With a full belly and warm home, certain desires stirred.

Jing Chi ambled after him toward the bathroom.

“Brother, it’s been forever since we showered together.”

“Use the other one.” Feng Qinghan’s voice came cool and clipped.

“Brother, you don’t miss me at all.” Jing Chi’s voice brimmed with grievance.

“Then wash up properly on your side.”

In the end, Feng Qinghan relented.

But Jing Chi never passed up a chance to push his luck.

“Brother, let me scrub your back.”

“No need.”

Jing Chi pretended not to hear the refusal as he grabbed a bath towel and wiped down the man’s back.

It started off innocently enough, but soon the mood shifted.

The bathroom grew steamy, the rising heat and thickening mist clouding their vision.

Pale skin took on a faint flush amid the vapor, while the man’s long fingers clenched the rim of the tub.

Droplets—sweat or tears, it was hard to tell—trailed down his cheeks. Some were caught at the corner of his lips; others splashed into the warm water below.

Drip… drip…

Ripples spread outward across the surface, and water sloshed over the tub’s edge, spilling onto the floor.

~~~

After wrapping up filming, Jing Chi turned down every offer and hunkered down at home, blissfully playing the part of a salted fish. Before he knew it, the year had slipped away.

“Tomorrow, how about I take you home with me?”

Feng Qinghan made the suggestion while Jing Chi lounged in front of the TV.

With New Year’s Eve drawing near, the holiday spirit was everywhere. Fireworks occasionally lit up the night sky in bursts of vibrant color.

“Really?” Jing Chi blinked in surprise, then beamed. “That’s perfect! Brother, I’ll go pack right now.”

He planted a quick peck on the corner of Feng Qinghan’s mouth and bolted off.

Feng Qinghan lifted a hand, but Jing Chi had already vanished.

A helpless smile tugged at his lips.

Back in his room, Jing Chi flopped onto the bed, chin in hand, and turned to the System. “First time meeting the parents—what should I bring?”

“Hmm…” The System paused, tapping into its vast database before replying, “A tea set, probably. Father Feng’s a tea enthusiast, from what the records say.”

It pressed on. “There’s a Purple Sand Teapot set up for auction the day after tomorrow. Estimated value’s around a million.”

“And perfect timing, Host—the movie producers just wired you a million.”

Jing Chi’s face fell. The cash hadn’t even had time to get comfortable in his pocket, and now it was heading out the door. It stung.

Still, no investment, no return when it came to winning over the father-in-law. He gritted his teeth and paid up.

Later, Jing Chi showed up at the Feng Family’s Old Mansion teetering under the weight of the million-yuan tea set, with Feng Qinghan at his side.

He was nervous. Meeting the parents was a first for him, across two lifetimes.

Feng Qinghan felt the clamminess in the young man’s palm. This carefree soul who brushed off everything was actually sweating bullets over his dad.

He gave Jing Chi’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Relax. I’ve got your back.”

Jing Chi drew a deep breath, flashed a smile, and tilted his face up. “Okay. Then kiss me, Brother, and I’ll be fine.”

Laughter warmed Feng Qinghan’s eyes as he brushed a gentle kiss across the young man’s forehead.

Right on cue, the door swung open.

Their gazes locked. If embarrassment were a contest, neither would have won.

Feng Qinghan kept his cool. “Dad, what are you doing out here?”