Jing Li was naturally delighted to accept it.
He cradled the bouquet, lowering his head to examine the flowers still glistening with water droplets. He didn’t know much about flowers and could only recognize a few common varieties. In the bouquet Ji Yunzhang had given him, aside from the familiar sunflowers and lilies, there were two kinds he didn’t know.
“What flowers are these?” He turned to ask, his eyes sparkling.
“Hydrangeas and bellflowers.”
Jing Li hummed in acknowledgment and looked down at the flowers again. He really liked this gift in return.
“Were these all planted by your grandmother?”
That evening, Ji Yunzhang had taken him on a stroll around the villa. Behind it was a flower room with climate control, allowing fresh blooms even in the dead of winter.
“My mother and grandmother planted them together,” Ji Yunzhang told him.
Jing Li nodded. He remembered that Ji Yunzhang’s mother was a botanist—a truly remarkable woman.
No one spoke in the car after that. Jing Li held the bouquet and gazed out the window.
The birch grove outside slid backward. Jing Li had risen early that morning and spent the entire afternoon entertaining Grandpa Ji, coaxing the old man until his cheeks glowed with health and he seemed years younger.
Now, with the sudden quiet, exhaustion crept in.
Perhaps it was Ji Yunzhang’s skillful driving, or maybe the luxury car’s smooth ride—either way, there was no trace of bumps inside. Jing Li clutched the flowers in one hand and propped his head with the other. Soon enough, he drifted off to sleep.
Noticing Jing Li had fallen asleep, Ji Yunzhang pulled over to the shoulder.
That position wouldn’t be comfortable for sleeping. Ji Yunzhang gently removed the bouquet from his lap and set it on the back seat. He then retrieved a pillow from behind and carefully adjusted Jing Li’s posture, letting him lean against it.
Halfway through, Jing Li stirred groggily. Spotting Ji Yunzhang, he gave an instinctive smile before nuzzling his cheek against the pillow and slipping back into slumber.
Utterly defenseless. Completely at ease.
Ji Yunzhang gazed at Jing Li’s sleeping face, his fingers lightly brushing aside the strands of hair that had fallen across his forehead. He let out a soft chuckle.
A little too well-behaved.
~~~
For the next week, Jing Li didn’t see Ji Yunzhang again. It wasn’t until after the New Year’s Day holiday that An Jiaming called, asking him to come to Kerry Entertainment to handle some paperwork.
His contract termination had finally been settled.
It hadn’t been easy for An Jiaming; it had taken far more time than expected.
Kerry Entertainment wasn’t blind to talent. The sidelining and neglect Jing Li had faced over the past six months was meant to wear down his edges, to teach him submission and compliance.
In this industry, companies didn’t favor artists who were too sharp or strong-willed. Capital chased fame and fortune above all; they preferred pliable, obedient stars they could control—even ones with a spotty past. Someone like Jing Li, who appeared soft and yielding but bristled with hidden spines and fought tooth and nail when crossed, wasn’t to their taste.
Of course, if Jing Li had powerful backing or had already risen to stardom, the story would be different.
The paperwork went quickly. Emerging from the artist director’s office, Jing Li felt a profound sense of relief. He spotted Le Xiaoxiao craning his neck around the corner and flashed him a cheerful OK sign.
Le Xiaoxiao’s eyes lit up as he hurried over. “They didn’t give you any hassle, did they?”
“No.”
Jing Li eyed him. “When are you starting?”
“I turned in my resignation already. I’m wrapping up the handover over the next few days—three or four at most.” Le Xiaoxiao was practically glowing. Landing a spot at Ji Yunzhang’s studio was beyond his wildest dreams.
Sure, he’d keep the manager title but mostly handle assistant duties, yet he couldn’t be happier. His salary had doubled, and An Jiaming had promised to mentor him, showing him how to excel as a manager. That alone made it priceless.
Jing Li nodded. “Got it.”
An Jiaming was waiting not far off. Jing Li told Le Xiaoxiao, “I’m off then. See you when you arrive.”
Le Xiaoxiao grinned wide. “Sounds good.”
“Oh, hold on—I’ve got some good news for you.” He glanced around cautiously and lowered his voice. “Sun Xiangwu got hauled in by Wu Hongtu for a brutal dressing-down. Lost half a year’s bonus too.”
Sun Xiangwu was Mu Ge’s sworn enemy. After she left, he’d targeted all the artists in her camp—and he’d poached Jing Li’s resources more than once on purpose.
Jing Li arched a brow. “What happened?”
“He got used as the punching bag.” Le Xiaoxiao snorted. “The company’s not that dumb. They know you’re a glittering gold mine. You just wouldn’t toe the line, so they tried taming you into a marionette. Backfired spectacularly—now Sun Xiangwu’s the fall guy.”
He gloated, “Serves him right.”
Hearing Sun Xiangwu had come unstuck put Jing Li in high spirits too. He resolved to have an extra bowl of rice for dinner!
…
After parting from Le Xiaoxiao, Jing Li left with An Jiaming.
The elevator reached the parking garage, and as the doors slid open, Jing Li found himself face-to-face with Yun Qingzhuo.
“…”
Jing Li smoothed out the relaxed expression he’d worn while talking with An Jiaming, replacing it with a polite smile as he nodded to Yun Qingzhuo. Without so much as a sideways glance, he walked past him toward the parking spot.
“Jing Li.” Yun Qingzhuo called out suddenly.
Jing Li halted. An Jiaming glanced at him, and he said, “You get in the car first.”
He turned around. Yun Qingzhuo was already approaching and stopped a meter away. “I heard you’re signing with Ji Yunzhang’s Studio? Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Jing Li replied, polite but distant.
“As for Director Li’s role, I only learned after getting back yesterday that you were auditioning for it too. I was just doing a favor on impulse to help out a newbie.” Regret surfaced on Yun Qingzhuo’s face. “Sorry about that.”
He was a touch shorter than Jing Li. Tilting his head up just so, he gazed at him from below with an air of innocence and fragility that tugged at the heartstrings, stirring a desire to protect.
Unfortunately, Jing Li wasn’t swayed.
He knew perfectly well that poaching the role had been deliberate. This apology and pitiful act now? It had to be because he’d seen that Hot Search, and with news of the signing to Ji Yunzhang’s Studio, he assumed Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang were actually friends.
Jing Li gave him a mocking half-smile. “Anything else?”
Yun Qingzhuo flicked a glance toward An Jiaming in the car, shook his head, and extended a hand. “Wishing you a brilliant career ahead.”
Jing Li didn’t take it. “I will.”
Once inside the car, An Jiaming asked, “What’s the deal between you and Yun Qingzhuo?”
He added, “I’ll be handling your business from now on. I hope you won’t keep anything from me.”
Jing Li was well aware of that.
Gathering his thoughts, he explained to An Jiaming, “He’s always fretted that I’d steal his top-dog spot at Kerry. And he sees me as a romantic rival.”
“You debuted when he was already a huge star,” An Jiaming said matter-of-factly.
“He’s popular enough, sure, but he’s been circling the TV scene, mostly landing idol dramas.” Jing Li pointed out.
An Jiaming watched him.
“When I signed on, he was gearing up to pivot into films and make his mark there. He had his eye on Yuehua in Isolated Island to break into that market.” Jing Li paused before adding by way of explanation, “‘Yuehua’ was my very first role.”
“I know,” An Jiaming said. “I’ve seen the movie. You were great in it.”
Praise like that was its own kind of joy. Jing Li smiled his thanks and went on, “The role called for auditions, and Director Qin chose me.”
An Jiaming understood. Jing Li’s looks and track record were stellar to begin with—eye-catching enough on their own. But as a complete newcomer, his acting had bested Yun Qingzhuo’s and snagged the part, instilling real fear in him.
When you’ve been hoisted to the heavens and grown accustomed to the stars revolving around you, tumbling back to earth is the last thing you want.
“And the romantic rival part?”
Jing Li rubbed his nose and cleared his throat. “The person Yun Qingzhuo likes took a shine to me instead. Pursued me pretty boldly, too.”
With looks like Jing Li’s, admirers and suitors were par for the course. An Jiaming wasn’t fazed, though he did ask one more thing: “Someone in the industry?”
Industry folks spelled more trouble.
“No—Jian Mi, president of Jian Group.”
That did surprise An Jiaming a little. He knew of Jian Mi: sharp, capable, but his tastes ran to the indiscreet—keeping celebrities.
Jian Mi kept things vanilla in the bedroom and was lavish to a fault, doling out cash and prime opportunities. Every star he’d kept shot to fame, so the line of artists eager to warm his bed was long.
An Jiaming hadn’t heard of him ever truly falling hard enough to chase anyone.
He didn’t press. “Understood.”
He drove Jing Li home, told him to head to the Studio tomorrow to hash out future plans, and took off.
On the drive, he phoned Ji Yunzhang and laid out the bad blood between Yun Qingzhuo and Jing Li. Once finished, he tacked on, “The one who killed that Hot Search to suppress Jing Li? Yun Qingzhuo, too.”
Ji Yunzhang set his book aside and acknowledged it with a hum.
He rose from his chair, slid the window open, and lit a cigarette. The ember glowed crimson, tendrils of smoke drifting upward to veil his face. Abruptly, he asked, “What’s Yun Qingzhuo’s next gig?”
An Jiaming paused, then caught on—Ji Yunzhang planned to hit him where it hurt, his own medicine right back at him. Puzzled, he said, “Necessary? He won’t pull anything else.”
Yun Qingzhuo’s Hot Search takedown had boiled down to in-house resource wars at his company. With Jing Li now aligned with them, their paths wouldn’t cross.
And once Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang went official? Anyone with half a brain—like Yun Qingzhuo—would back off.
Striking back felt like overkill.
“It’s necessary,” Ji Yunzhang said.
His voice was even, but it carried a warning: “An Jiaming, I’m protective of mine.”
Jing Li had just stepped through his front door when a WeChat message from Ji Yunzhang popped up.
[Ji Yunzhang]: Has Jian Mi pursued you?
Ji Yunzhang knowing about it came as no surprise to Jing Li at all—after all, An Jiaming was his manager.
He scooped up a throw pillow to hug, rested his elbows on it, and typed out a detailed reply.
[Jing Li]: Yeah, back at the beginning of the year. He chased me for about two months.
[Jing Li]: He said it was love at first sight.
After sending the messages, Jing Li waited a few minutes without a response and stood up to head for the shower. But just as he rose, Ji Yunzhang sent a video call request.
Jing Li accepted it.
Ji Yunzhang was leaning casually against a window, his gentle gaze fixed on the camera as if he could see Jing Li right through it. “Don’t believe in love at first sight,” he said. “That’s usually just lust at first sight.”
Jing Li: “…”
He couldn’t help laughing. “Teacher Ji, did you call just to tell me that?”
“No.” The corner of Ji Yunzhang’s mouth curved up. “I wanted to tell you the script is finished.”
Jing Li’s interest piqued at once. “Send it over.”
Ji Yunzhang sent the file, then smoothly extended an invitation. “How about dinner tonight? You can point out anything you don’t like and we can revise it right then and there.”
Jing Li couldn’t help but admire Ji Yunzhang’s thoughtfulness and perfect manners in his heart. He nodded. “Sounds good.”
Smiling, he added, “I can whip up some home-style dishes. Let’s eat at my place tonight, Teacher Ji—give my cooking a try.”
Ji Yunzhang let out a low chuckle. “I’d be honored.”
