Chapter 11: Doctor Bottom x Celebrity Top

Ye Shumo watched Jing Chi through the screen.

The man was clad in robes as red as blood. A gust of wind rose, sending his sleeves fluttering. The dark red hem of his robe traced a graceful arc through the air.

He stood there quietly, as if one with the heavens and earth.

Facing him were over a dozen men dressed in black night-walking clothes, their sharp swords gleaming with blinding light under the sun.

Ye Qianxing narrowed his eyes, staring at the black-clothed men opposite him.

A flash of contempt crossed his alluring, bewitching eyes. The corners of his lips curved into a roguish smile as he teased the person he was shielding behind him. “A-Yao, call me good brother, and I’ll kill them all for you.”

Shu Yao shot him a furious glare filled with shame and anger. She bit her lip and turned her head away.

The man helplessly raised an eyebrow, his eyes softening with indulgence. “Alright, I won’t tease you anymore.”

Just then, the ten black-clothed men charged forward as one.

“Stay right here. I’ll be back soon.”

Ye Qianxing hefted his sword and met them head-on, oblivious to the complicated look in Shu Yao’s eyes behind him—a mix of fear and hesitation.

He gripped his sword, its silver blade flashing as it left the sheath.

His form was lithe and swift as a soaring dragon. He moved so quickly amid the flurry of shadows that only a streak of red could be seen.

Blood splattered across the ground, redder than fallen maple leaves. The black-clothed men crumpled one after another, while Ye Qianxing’s robes bore only scattered flecks of blood.

The last man was run through the chest with a single thrust. His eyes widened as he glared at the strikingly handsome man, hatred and disdain thick in his gaze. “You’ll die a horrible death.”

Ye Qianxing sneered coldly. “Too bad you won’t live to see it.”

He withdrew his sword. Blood sprayed in a geyser, and with a heavy thud, the man collapsed, kicking up clouds of dust.

Ye Qianxing let his sword hang at his side, droplets of blood falling from the blade to bloom like vivid crimson flowers on the ground.

He walked toward Shu Yao, his smile turning gentle. Unaware of the blood speckling his face, he said, “A-Yao, we can go now.”

But in Shu Yao’s eyes, he was nothing more than a bloodthirsty demon advancing on her.

Corpses littered the ground, blood soaked the earth, and the metallic stench made her stomach churn.

In that moment, she forgot all his tenderness, seeing only the slaughter he’d wrought.

Without a second thought, she raised her sword to block his path.

The man froze. He looked down at the blade hovering just shy of piercing his body—the very sword he’d chosen for her.

The timid girl who’d once feared even the idea of killing had finally found the courage to wield a blade. Unfortunately, it was aimed at him.

Ye Qianxing laughed. “A-Yao, if you want my life, you only had to ask.”

~~~

“Cut!” With that call, Jing Chi’s scene wrapped. As he started to push himself up from the ground, a well-defined hand appeared before his eyes.

He looked up to see it belonged to Ye Shumo.

He started to reach for it, then hesitated and pulled back, explaining, “Teacher Ye, my hands are filthy. No need to bother.”

He braced against the ground and stood up smoothly on his own.

Ye Shumo withdrew his hand without a hint of awkwardness, a mild smile on his face as he praised Jing Chi’s performance. “You’ve improved a lot.”

Jing Chi accepted the compliment with a brilliant grin. “Thank you, Teacher Ye. And thanks for your guidance before.”

“The one who really helped you break through was someone else, wasn’t it?”

Ye Shumo met his eyes and teased good-naturedly.

Jing Chi just smiled without replying, but the distinctive gleam in his eyes gave him away all too easily.

With the recording tasks for the first episode fully complete, Jing Chi headed back to the villa early.

Feng Qinghan still left for work early in the mornings, but barring emergency surgeries, he made it a point to clock out around five-thirty every evening.

He would then join Jing Chi for dinner.

Afterward, Feng Qinghan typically retreated to the study to review patient files and write reports, with the occasional video conference thrown in.

Jing Chi had been too wrapped up in the show to spend time “building rapport” with him—aside from that bit of flirting during yesterday’s rehearsal, of course.

As Feng Qinghan passed by, Jing Chi grabbed his wrist.

He tilted his face up and blinked pleadingly at him. “Brother, I’m finally free. Won’t you take a walk with me?”

Feng Qinghan’s gaze shifted from Jing Chi’s hand gripping his own to the young man’s face.

He didn’t know when it had started, but he suddenly found himself unable to refuse anything when it came to this face.

Feng Qinghan glanced at the time on his watch and said flatly, “I have a meeting at eight.”

Jing Chi immediately stood up, nodding with a smile. “No problem.”

The two of them walked one behind the other through the park in the villa district. The sky hadn’t fully darkened yet, and there were a few scattered people around.

“Ah, the air out here is so fresh,” Jing Chi couldn’t help stretching out his arms and yawning lazily. He turned back to gaze at Feng Qinghan, who was trailing a short distance behind him.

The man was still wearing the white shirt he hadn’t had a chance to change out of. He always buttoned it meticulously to the very top, but now the uppermost button had been undone, revealing his long, pale neck and delicate collarbones.

And the reason for that was Jing Chi’s complaint earlier about how stiffly he was dressed—he’d personally reached out and unfastened that button before they headed out.

“According to the current air pollution index, we’re at light pollution levels,” the man replied in his usual deadpan manner.

Jing Chi pouted at those utterly unromantic words. He stepped right up to Feng Qinghan and turned the man’s head back toward him when he glanced away. “My mood feels fresh. Isn’t that good enough?”

Unknowingly, the distance between them had closed to mere inches. Their eyes locked, the air thick with ambiguity.

Feng Qinghan could feel Jing Chi’s warm breath washing over him with every exhale, gradually enveloping him. His heartbeat began to race.

He blinked without thinking, his words coming slower, his gaze drifting. “That… that works too.”

Sensing the shift in the man’s eyes, Jing Chi picked up on the charged atmosphere.

His own gaze drifted from those beautiful eyes down to Feng Qinghan’s lips—pale and glistening, utterly tempting, like something meant to be savored.

They were like an exquisite pastry, fragrant and irresistible, laid out right in front of him. How could he possibly hold back?

Just as Jing Chi’s lips were about to descend, a little figure suddenly launched itself at Feng Qinghan’s right leg.

The man instinctively ducked his head, causing Jing Chi’s kiss to land on his cheek instead.

Even so, it left him frozen stiff.

Jing Chi felt a pang of regret, but seeing Feng Qinghan’s reaction satisfied him all the same.

The child on the ground tilted her head up at them, asking in confusion, “Big brothers, are you playing kissy?”

Jing Chi’s face stiffened too.

Feng Qinghan flushed a faint pink at the words, though he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

But Jing Chi was thick-skinned by nature and recovered quickly. He glanced at the man pretending nothing had happened and couldn’t help bursting into laughter first.

Then he crouched down and scooped the child off Feng Qinghan’s leg.

The little one was about three or four years old, with round chubby cheeks and big, watery eyes blinking up at them in bewilderment.

“Kiddo, the brothers aren’t playing kissy,” Jing Chi said solemnly. “We’re just… um, engaging in a deep exchange of friendship.”

Feng Qinghan couldn’t help clearing his throat at that, a subtle reminder not to go too far.

The child frowned, eyeing Jing Chi with clear disdain. “Brother, don’t lie to me. I’m not a little kid anymore—I’m not three. I’m four!”

She held up her tiny fingers to prove it.

Her innocent declaration had both Jing Chi and Feng Qinghan fighting back smiles.

Jing Chi ruffled the child’s soft hair and changed the subject. “How’d you get over here? Where are your parents?”

“I came out with Nanny Auntie.” The child pointed in one direction, and sure enough, a middle-aged woman stood there, offering them an awkward smile.

She seemed hesitant to approach, likely intimidated by Feng Qinghan’s aloof aura.

Of course, no one had to worry about abductions here. It was a wealthy enclave, blanketed in security cameras with tight perimeter controls—ordinary folks couldn’t even get in.

“So why’d you hug that brother’s leg just now?”

Jing Chi nodded toward Feng Qinghan, genuinely curious.

The child turned shy in an instant, burying her face in Jing Chi’s chest before whispering in his ear, “I think the big brother is pretty.”

“Yo, you little one—already a face-con at your age?” Jing Chi pinched her soft cheek, feigning offense. “What, am I not pretty?”

The child blinked up at him pitifully. “Brother’s pretty too.”

Jing Chi suddenly felt like he was bullying a kid. He rubbed his nose guiltily. “Alright, head back now. Your Nanny Auntie’s probably getting worried.”

The child tugged at his clothes, glancing at Feng Qinghan while leaning in close to his ear and whispering, “Brother, can I give Big Brother a kiss?”

Jing Chi couldn’t help but laugh at the kid’s antics. Then, putting on a serious face, he refused. “No, you can’t.”

He himself hadn’t even kissed Feng that much—how could he let a child beat him to it?

The child’s face fell immediately. She let out a sigh and said helplessly, “Fine.”

In her heart, though, she thought, Why are grown-ups always so jealous?

With immense reluctance, she walked back to the nanny auntie, looking over her shoulder every few steps. The nanny promptly scooped up the child and left.

Once they were out of sight, Feng Qinghan’s earlier discomfort faded. He leaned down toward Jing Chi and asked, “What were you two talking about?”

Jing Chi stood up and shook his head, though he let out a deep sigh. “Brother’s face is just too enchanting. It attracts bees from every flower—even kids aren’t immune.”

Feng Qinghan looked puzzled. “?”

“Looks like we should head back soon,” Jing Chi said deliberately, his expression teasing. “Otherwise, someone else might pop up and whisk Brother away. I’d be the one taking the real loss.”

To his surprise, Feng Qinghan replied earnestly, “That won’t happen.”

Jing Chi paused for a beat, then his eyes curved into a smile, brimming with amusement. “Alright, I believe you, Brother.”

Feng Qinghan had only said it because of his naturally aloof personality. But seeing the look on Jing Chi’s face, he sensed a misunderstanding—though his reason told him it was best not to explain right now.

A moment later, Jing Chi seemed to think of something. He suddenly reached out to Feng Qinghan, arching a brow with a playful curl of his lips. Mimicking the child’s innocent tone from earlier, he asked, “Then, Big Brother… can I hold your hand on the way home?”