Chapter 1

Winter days were short and nights long. By the time Jing Li landed at A City Airport, it was not yet six o’clock, but the sky was already pitch black, with lights blanketing the entire city.

He wore a long white down jacket and a scarf, dragging his suitcase along with the crowd as he exited the airport.

The line for taxis was quite long. Jing Li stood quietly with his earphones in, listening to a gentle melody. Behind him, two girls were chatting about the entertainment industry’s most prestigious awards ceremony, the Huaxing Awards, which had wrapped up the day before yesterday.

When they got to Ji Yunzhang, who had claimed the Film emperor crown yet again, one of the girls couldn’t hold back her excitement. She flailed her arms and bounced on her toes, accidentally whacking Jing Li with her elbow. The girl spun around with a hasty apology. Jing Li pulled off his earphones and glanced back, shaking his head to show it was fine.

Once she’d apologized, the girl looked up—and Jing Li’s handsome face filled her view. She froze for a second. Noticing her stare, Jing Li tilted his head in mild confusion, looking utterly endearing. She came to her senses, her face turning red with embarrassment as she waved her hands frantically. Jing Li turned back around and slipped his earphones on again.

Thinking he couldn’t hear, the girl clutched her friend’s arm. “Ahhh, he’s so good-looking!”

Her friend teased, “Handsome like your idol Ji Yunzhang?”

“Of course my idol’s the handsomer one—they’re not even in the same league,” the girl replied, then paused. “You know, that guy looks kinda familiar. Like I’ve seen him somewhere…”

At that, Jing Li sensed two pairs of eyes on him again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girls shuffle sideways for a better look. Right then, it was finally his turn. He grabbed his suitcase, hopped in the cab, and just before shutting the door, caught the girl’s hushed exclamation: “I got it! Yesterday I watched this movie—he played a dance teacher. Name was something like… Jing…”

She didn’t remember his full name, but Jing Li felt no disappointment. Quite the opposite—he was a little pleased. She recognized him, after all.

A smile tugged at his lips. Grinning, he gave the driver the address and closed his eyes to rest.

He hadn’t slept well in days.

His agent Le Xiaoxiao called just as Jing Li was drifting off. Rubbing his stiff neck, he answered.

“You home yet?” Le Xiaoxiao asked.

He’d meant to pick Jing Li up himself, but a friend had called last minute about introducing him to a director. He’d dashed off to snag some opportunities for Jing Li, leaving him to cab it home alone.

As for a company car? Simple answer: Jing Li was too much of an unknown. The agency hadn’t bothered allocating resources like that to him.

Jing Li glanced at the passing streets outside. “Almost.”

“I’m heading over now. Wait for me at home.”

“Sure.”

The call ended as the cab pulled up to the neighborhood gate.

Nestled in an old district, the street out front was lined with lively mom-and-pop shops full of everyday bustle. Dinnertime had it hopping. Jing Li paid, got out, and made a beeline for a small shop in the corner, suitcase in tow.

He was an obvious regular. The landlady spotted him and beamed warmly. “Back from your trip? Claypot beef rice, as usual?”

Jing Li’s eyes crinkled in a smile as he nodded. “Yeah. And throw in a fried chicken cutlet.”

The shoot had wrapped—time for a little self-reward.

The beef rice and chicken were made fresh to order, so Jing Li claimed an empty table nearby to wait. The landlady’s daughter sat by the door folding origami, her little table buried under colorful paper stacks. She scowled in concentration, cheeks puffed out as she wrestled with a pink sheet.

Jing Li watched for a moment, then scooted over and signed, “What are you trying to make?”

Born deaf, the girl knew Jing Li well. Back in university, he’d volunteered at a special school and picked up basic sign language—not expert level, but enough for everyday chat. She loved him for it; besides her parents, he was the only one who could understand and talk with her.

Her hands flew eagerly: “A flower.”

Then, full of hope: “You know how?”

Jing Li didn’t let her down. “Yeah. I’ll show you.”

Her eyes lit up like stars. She fished a candy from her pocket and offered it politely. “Thank-you gift.”

Jing Li chuckled and selected two sheets of blue paper. Her gaze locked onto his hands, big round eyes fixed in rapt attention.

Jing Li’s hands were exquisite—long, slender fingers, pale and delicately thin, soft to the eye, with rounded tips and neatly trimmed nails glowing a healthy pink. He folded one first to demonstrate, signing to ask if she liked it. She nodded vigorously, and he began teaching her step by step.

Jing Li was patient and thorough. Even after his food arrived, he stayed put until she could fold one solo. Only then did he collect his meal and head out.

When he stepped out of the small shop, the little girl clutched the flower she had folded herself and came running with quick pattering steps to the landlady’s side. She raised her hand to offer it, then signed happily to her mother about how she’d learned to fold flowers.

Jing Li popped the candy into his mouth, tugged his coat and scarf tighter, and set off down the brightly lit street into the neighborhood—one hand dragging his suitcase, the other carrying his packed meal.

His shadow stretched long under the streetlights, reaching all the way to the black sedan parked by the neighborhood entrance. The window slid down, revealing a face with sharp, chiseled features—handsome to an almost excessive degree—in the glow of the lamps. Ji Yunzhang’s gaze tracked Jing Li the whole way, taking in how he smiled and exchanged greetings with the familiar elders he passed.

Suddenly, an old lady called out to him, and he turned around.

The neighborhood was a little rundown, but the property management kept things in good order, with streetlights spaced just right to bathe the whole place in bright light.

Under that clear illumination, Jing Li’s face was fully on display for Ji Yunzhang. Even a man like Ji Yunzhang, who had seen his share of beauties, felt a flash of astonishment.

“What are you looking at?” The driver’s door opened and shut again as An Jiaming climbed back in, having handled some urgent personal business. He saw Ji Yunzhang had rolled down the window and was staring out, so he asked.

Ji Yunzhang said nothing. An Jiaming leaned forward to peer out along his line of sight and immediately spotted Jing Li chatting with the old lady.

Realization dawned on An Jiaming. “Ah, you’re checking him out.”

He watched a moment longer before letting out a surprised “Huh” and adding, “I know him.”

Only then did Ji Yunzhang turn to face his manager. His voice matched his cool expression—crisp, detached, and radiating a distinct keep-your-distance vibe. “An entertainer?”

“Yeah, he’s signed with Kerry Entertainment. Jing Li. I saw him last month at Director Lin’s place—he showed up with his agent for an audition. Real obedient kid.”

What stuck with An Jiaming about Jing Li was mainly how striking his face and physique were.

Ji Yunzhang lowered his gaze. His left hand rested idly on the center console, index finger tapping the surface in a lazy rhythm that echoed through the quiet car: thump, thump, thump.

An Jiaming watched him sink into thought, then blurted out in surprise as something occurred to him. “Wait—you want to sign him?”

Ji Yunzhang didn’t reply right away. He glanced out again, but Jing Li had moved on. Now he was steadying the old lady with one hand as they walked off together, still talking.

“Get me his file,” he told An Jiaming.

~~~

Jing Li was kicking back with an idol drama for company while he ate when the doorbell rang. He got up and opened the door.

A blast of cold air rushed in ahead of everything else. With the heat cranked up inside, he’d dressed light, so the chill cut right through him. He hurriedly pulled the visitor in and slammed the door shut.

“That was quick?” He grabbed a pair of slippers from the cabinet by the door and handed them to Le Xiaoxiao.

“I came straight from the restaurant—not far at all.” Le Xiaoxiao passed over the food container he was holding and bent to change his shoes. “Brought you some glutinous rice balls.”

Jing Li blinked. Le Xiaoxiao went on, “It’s Winter Solstice today. Don’t you guys eat glutinous rice balls for that?” He gave Jing Li an up-and-down look. “You’ve slimmed down. Eat up.”

Only then did it hit Jing Li that it was Winter Solstice. “Thanks.”

Le Xiaoxiao finished changing shoes and shrugged off his coat before following Jing Li into the living room. His eyes landed on the dinner sitting on the coffee table, and after a two-second pause, he said, “Just have two glutinous rice balls to mark the occasion.”

Jing Li had already taken a seat. At those words, he looked up and fixed Le Xiaoxiao with an accusing stare for several long seconds before glancing away. His gaze settled on the just-opened container of steaming-hot glutinous rice balls, his lips pressed thin.

“You were just saying how I’ve gotten thin and need to eat more.” He spoke softly, drawing out the words until they came out all soft and aggrieved.

His profile was sharply defined in the light, his slender neck pale and strikingly clear. The loose pajamas hung off his frame, only emphasizing how thin he’d gotten.

“…”

For a moment, Le Xiaoxiao had the odd sense that he was the one doing the bullying.

He mentally ran through Jing Li’s schedule… Yeah, nothing there. He’d struck out on resources today and would have to keep hunting. Until something came through, Jing Li was stuck resting at home.

Le Xiaoxiao waved it off. “Whatever, go ahead and eat.”

Jing Li’s face cleared in a flash, lighting up with a grin that erased any hint of his earlier gloom.

Le Xiaoxiao rolled his eyes. “How childish can you get? Pulling the same trick every time.”

Jing Li savored a sweet, fragrant sesame-filled glutinous rice balls and shot Le Xiaoxiao a V-sign. “Doesn’t matter if the move’s old—what counts is that it works. Can’t help it if you’re such a soft touch.”

Le Xiaoxiao: “…”

Fine, his bad.

Le Xiaoxiao sat down, twisting his hands together and starting to speak a few times without getting the words out. On his third try, Jing Li jumped in first. “Xiaoxiao, whatever it is, just spit it out. I’ve got tough skin—I can handle it.”

All of Le Xiaoxiao’s built-up tension collapsed in an instant. “…Don’t call me ‘Xiao-er’.”

Jing Li corrected him. “It’s Xiaor—xiao, first tone.”

Le Xiaoxiao: “……”

“Back to business,” he coughed, sounding guilty. “One piece of good news and one piece of bad news. Which do you want first?”

“The good news.”

“…Not the bad one first?” Jing Li wasn’t playing by the usual script, leaving Le Xiaoxiao’s high-EQ approach with nowhere to land.

“I like hearing the happy stuff first.” Jing Li kept eating his glutinous rice balls. He popped one into his mouth, cheeks puffing out like a hamster’s.

“So, what’s the good news?” He looked at Le Xiaoxiao, waiting for him to continue.

Those clear, innocent eyes met his, and Le Xiaoxiao’s gaze flickered. “For the next little while, you can rest up properly—sleep in as late as you want, go traveling if you feel like it…”

His voice grew quieter with every word until it faded away entirely.

This kind of rest meant no work lined up, and for Jing Li, that boiled down to no money coming in. Exposure wasn’t even a factor at his current level of fame; the roles available to him were minor at best, or stand-in work, nothing more.

Even though he picked up on the unspoken meaning, Jing Li nodded agreeably. “Sounds good. These past two weeks of early mornings and late nights have worn me out. I could really use the break—and some decent sleep.”

Jing Li’s easy understanding only made Le Xiaoxiao feel worse. He averted his eyes, his voice softening. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t secure that role for you. There was a real shot at it, but Yun Qingzhuo’s agent called out of the blue and claimed it for him.”

Yun Qingzhuo was Kerry Entertainment’s reigning top star and a bona fide first-tier celebrity. He might lack prestigious acting awards, but his enormous fanbase, youth, solid skills, and string of high-rated dramas made most directors eager to do him a favor and build some goodwill.

Le Xiaoxiao’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “If you hadn’t ended up under me…”

Jing Li cut him off before he could dive into self-recrimination. “Then I’d probably be shelved altogether.”

Jing Li’s luck had never been great. He’d barely signed with the company when his agent, Mu Ge, got poached for big money. Unfortunately, she had a bitter rival there—a relative of the boss. Once Mu Ge left, that grudge got redirected straight at the artists she’d brought in.

Those who’d already built some fame were okay; the company still needed their revenue, so no one rocked the boat. But total unknowns like Jing Li? They got zero resources and were saddled with rookie or incompetent agents—designed to kill their careers.

“Don’t dwell on it,” Jing Li said, pouring him a glass of water. “Have some water. Watch TV. This drama’s great—hilarious.”

He smiled. “Oh, and these glutinous rice balls are delicious. I love them.”

Le Xiaoxiao watched Jing Li closely, searching his expression for any hint of disappointment or dejection, but found none. Remembering the rough months Jing Li had endured lately, he couldn’t help admiring his natural optimism once more.

Handsome, with a great personality—gentle and polite, humble yet diligent. A guy like that shouldn’t be wasting away in obscurity.

He deserved to shine.

Le Xiaoxiao clenched his fist. He would make Jing Li a star.

Once the glutinous rice balls were gone, Jing Li was stuffed. Half the fried chicken cutlet and a bit of the beef rice remained, so in the interest of not wasting food, he packed it all away in the fridge for tomorrow.

He came back with two cans of Sprite and handed one to Le Xiaoxiao, settling in cross-legged with a comfortable sigh. “Don’t stress yourself out with goals that big.”

“Hm?” Le Xiaoxiao blinked up at him.

A second later, he realized he’d accidentally voiced his inner thoughts aloud.

“It’s not that ambitious,” Le Xiaoxiao said firmly. “You’re going to make it big.”

“Your looks are a rare commodity even in this industry. That face alone will carry you to stardom eventually. You just need the right break.”

Jing Li couldn’t hold back a laugh. He touched his cheek. “Now that’s what I like to hear. I do look good.”

He raised his can of Sprite and clinked it against Le Xiaoxiao’s. “Let’s do this together.”

He was also looking forward to saving up enough money to retire someday!