An Jiaming was remarkably efficient. By the next morning, he had already sent Ji Yunzhang all the relevant information on Jing Li.
Ji Yunzhang sat on the terrace, Bluetooth earpiece in place, a parasol shielding him from most of the sun. He kept his head down, swiping through his tablet as he listened to An Jiaming marvel over the phone. “There’s a goldmine of potential in Jing Li. Kerry Entertainment is squandering it—leaving a gem like that to gather dust instead of promoting him right. Their executives are hopeless.”
He had won dance awards and piano competitions, studied under a guqin master as his final disciple, been the top of his class, shown real acting talent, and earned a Best Supporting Actor nomination in his debut role… Ji Yunzhang reviewed Jing Li’s stellar resume and murmured his agreement.
After all, Jing Li wasn’t his artist, so An Jiaming could only sigh enviously for a moment before turning to the main topic. “Jing Li volunteered a lot during university—at orphanages, special-needs schools, and nursing homes. I went to those places myself this morning and spoke with the staff. They all remembered him and had nothing but praise.”
“I asked the nursing home workers in particular, getting all the details. Some of the residents had conditions like your grandfather’s, and Jing Li was always patient with them. Never showed a hint of fear.”
“Compared to the others, he’s a much better fit. Great personality, incredibly gentle, full of compassion, and exceptional across the board. Your grandfather would take to him right away, and he’d rest easy knowing Jing Li was your partner.” He paused for a sip of water. “So, what do you think? If it’s Jing Li, I’ll reach out to him.”
Jing Li was still young, fresh out of university, his life a mostly blank slate. Ji Yunzhang finished reading in short order, then replied off-topic. “If you were his agent, how long to make him a star?”
“What?” An Jiaming blinked, then considered seriously. “Using you as a benchmark, it’d depend on his talent. To get him famous? Fastest would be a year, two at the outside.”
“You’re planning to sign him?”
“Most likely.” Ji Yunzhang said.
An Jiaming caught on—this was Ji Yunzhang’s intended reward for Jing Li, compensation for putting on this fake marriage act. He’d already made up his mind.
He pressed once more. “And if Jing Li says no? Still sign him?”
Ji Yunzhang answered simply, “He’s outstanding.”
Just like that? An Jiaming got the picture. “Understood.”
“Should I be the one to tell him, or…”
Ji Yunzhang set the tablet aside, cutting him off. “I’ll handle it personally. You just take care of terminating his contract with Kerry.”
~~~
Jing Li slept straight through until two in the afternoon, jolted awake by his ringing phone. He clutched the blanket, the sweet dream of scraping together enough pocket change for an early retirement still vivid, but the insistent bell dragged him back to harsh reality. With a sigh, he fumbled for his phone on the nightstand and sat up to answer.
Fresh from sleep, his voice carried a lazy rasp. Le Xiaoxiao picked up on it immediately. “Still in bed?”
“Awake now.”
Yawning, he rubbed his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Something big. President Wu wants to see you.” President Wu—full name Wu Hongtu—was the founder of Kerry Entertainment and its current chairman and general manager.
Le Xiaoxiao’s shoes clicked against marble as he walked. “Now that you’re up, get moving. I’m on my way to pick you up. Had lunch? Want me to grab something?”
President Wu wanted to see him? For what? Had the old shark suddenly sprouted a conscience and decided to cut him loose?
…Fat chance. Capitalists didn’t have hearts.
Jing Li was wide awake now. He kicked off the covers and swung his legs out of bed. “Nah, I’ll heat up last night’s chicken cutlet and beef rice.”
After a quick wash-up and a simple lunch, he headed downstairs. Le Xiaoxiao pulled up right on time.
Jing Li slid into the passenger seat. The door shut out the chill, and he unwound his scarf before twisting to buckle up. “What’s Wu Hongtu want with me?”
“No idea. His secretary just told me to bring you over.”
“?” Jing Li whipped around, question marks practically sprouting from his head.
Staring at Jing Li’s handsome face, Le Xiaoxiao’s mind leaped to dark suspicions—could it be another push to drag him into one of those sleazy business dinners? He’d heard just days ago that Kerry was gearing up for an IPO, and they’d been shuttling artists to schmooze-fests nonstop.
The thought deepened his frown. His grip tightened on the wheel; the car stayed put.
“Or skip it. I’ll say you’re under the weather and need to rest.”
Jing Li blinked, his confusion mounting. “What’s got you spooked?”
Le Xiaoxiao laid out his theory, then eyed him. “It’s just a hunch, sure—but what if I’m right? The idea alone turns my stomach.”
Jing Li was good-looking. From the moment he signed with Kerry Entertainment, people had been knocking on his door with all sorts of temptations, eager to lure him into the industry’s unspoken rules. Even the higher-ups weren’t entirely immune—they’d arranged special dinners, inviting those with less-than-pure intentions.
Jing Li might have seemed mild-mannered with a patient temperament, but push him too far and he wouldn’t yield an inch. At one such dinner, when someone tried to get handsy, he flipped the man right there on the spot and nearly had him thrown in jail. Faced with someone so utterly fearless, everyone eventually backed off.
Jing Li smiled optimistically. “Maybe they want to push me onto Tomorrow’s Star. Think about it—my looks are top-tier, I play piano and guqin, I dance, I sing, I play chess, I cook, I paint…”
He ticked off his talents on his fingers, his face a perfect picture of mock distress at his own perfection. Le Xiaoxiao stared at him, utterly defeated by the humblebrag, and rolled his eyes in silence. Still, his mood improved quite a bit.
“You’re dreaming big. The lineup for Tomorrow’s Star is already locked in: Feng Yanxu, Jiang Yi, and Leng Moye. All fresh signees from this year.”
He couldn’t help sighing. If only Jing Li could go on the show. He wouldn’t even need real talent—his face alone could carry him straight to the finals.
The entertainment world was full of attractive people, but someone as strikingly beautiful as Jing Li was one in a million. And it wasn’t just his looks; he’d mastered a whole array of skills. If Mu Ge hadn’t been poached away, if Jing Li had landed a competent agent, if he weren’t stuck at Kerry…
Le Xiaoxiao had felt regret for him more than once.
He hadn’t said it out loud, but it was written all over his face. Jing Li shook his head and patted his shoulder. “Don’t dwell on it. Let’s get going.”
He smiled. “Worst case, like you said, I just walk away. It’s a lawful society—he can’t force me. And if it really is a shot like Tomorrow’s Star, wouldn’t passing it up be a shame?”
Besides, Le Xiaoxiao was just a working stiff. If he didn’t show up, the guy would probably catch heat for it.
No point in that.
Kerry Entertainment was a fair distance from Jing Li’s neighborhood. Le Xiaoxiao drove steadily, and Jing Li dozed off again during the ride. When he woke, they had arrived.
It had been months since Jing Li last set foot in the company. The front desk had a new girl who didn’t recognize him and started to call out for him to register. But when she spotted Le Xiaoxiao behind him, she held her tongue.
Her curious, dazzled gaze followed him all the way to the elevator.
The elevator shot straight up to the top floor. When the doors slid open, Le Xiaoxiao couldn’t follow into the president’s office, so he stayed inside. He hesitated a few times before murmuring, “I’ll wait for you in the office downstairs.”
Jing Li smiled and waved him off as he stepped out.
The secretary escorted him to the president’s office door, then returned to her desk. He knocked, and a voice called from inside, “Come in.” He paused—it was a pleasant voice, not Wu Hongtu’s?
Pushing the door open revealed Wu Hongtu’s office in full view, but Jing Li’s eyes were immediately drawn to the man lounging on the sofa.
Ji Yunzhang was dressed simply and casually—a solid-color sweater paired with black trousers, his posture utterly relaxed. His looks and presence were exceptional: poised and effortlessly elegant.
He rose to his feet and smiled at Jing Li. The expression softened his aura, dialing back the air of distance.
He extended a hand. “Hello. I’m Ji Yunzhang.”
Jing Li blinked, snapping back to the moment.
He had a weakness for good voices, and right then, he had to admit his idol’s lived up to the hype.
Curbing his thrill at meeting the man in person, Jing Li clasped his hand. “Hello, Teacher Ji.”
He glanced around Wu Hongtu’s office, even peering back out into the hall to confirm no one else was there. Hesitantly, he asked, “Teacher Ji, did you call me here?”
“I did.” Ji Yunzhang brushed past him to close the office door. “Let’s sit and talk.”
Jing Li nodded and settled into the single sofa opposite him, observing openly. They were both in the industry, but he’d never met Ji Yunzhang face-to-face before—this was a first.
Ji Yunzhang looked even better in person than in any photo. Tall and upright, with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, he was a natural clotheshorse. His features were sharp and striking, handsome in a way that was instantly recognizable.
He was really handsome.
Jing Li suddenly recalled the girl’s words he’d overheard at the airport the night before. He had to concede she was right—he and Ji Yunzhang weren’t playing in the same league. When it came to raw handsomeness, Ji Yunzhang had the clear edge.
That said, if they were judging purely on eye-candy appeal, Jing Li had to award himself full marks, right up there with Ji Yunzhang.
Jing Li’s stare was direct and unapologetic; Ji Yunzhang was fully aware. He lifted another glass of juice from the table and set it in front of him. “I had this one brought for you.”
Then, mildly, he asked, “Handsome?”
Jing Li admitted it freely. “Very.”
Ji Yunzhang complimented him in return. “You too.”
Jing Li smiled, his eyes curving into happy crescents as he got straight to the point. “What can I do for you?”
“I hope you’ll sign with my Studio. Also, I’d like you to help me with something.” Ji Yunzhang met his gaze without any preamble, cutting right to the chase.
Jing Li was momentarily stunned.
Ji Yunzhang wanted to sign him—and on top of that, was asking for a favor? It was almost enough to make him pinch his own arm to see if he was dreaming.
In his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined something like this.
“Why sign me?” Jing Li studied him, then asked, “What kind of help?”
He might be an idol, but even brothers had to keep their accounts straight.
Jing Li had never believed in free lunches falling from the sky.
Ji Yunzhang took in his wary expression without a hint of irritation. He looked straight into Jing Li’s eyes and said calmly, “I’d like you to enter into a fake marriage with me. It’ll last two years.”
