Jing Li was a little dazed. Unable to stop himself, he actually reached out and pinched his own arm.
He’d pinched hard enough to really hurt. He scrunched up his face, silently rubbing the spot before giving it a pat—like that old “blow on it and it won’t hurt anymore” trick for self-comfort.
Ji Yunzhang hadn’t missed the little gesture. He let out a soft chuckle. “That surprised you?”
Realizing Ji Yunzhang had seen it, Jing Li felt awkward for a second. But after mentally reciting, I’m not embarrassed—if I’m embarrassed, then it’s everyone else’s problem, he quickly pulled himself together. “Of course it did! I’m talking super shocked, like-pinch-myself-to-make-sure-it’s-not-a-dream levels of surprised.”
His eyes lit up as he met Ji Yunzhang’s gaze, curiosity plain on his face. “So, what’s the reason?”
“My grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease at the start of the year,” Ji Yunzhang said, pausing for a moment. “His memory’s deteriorating, and his health along with it. He’s always wanted me to find a partner.”
Jing Li froze. He hadn’t expected a reason like that.
He also caught the flicker of unrestrained sorrow in Ji Yunzhang’s voice when he mentioned his grandfather.
Ji Yunzhang quickly masked the emotion and pressed on. “In return, I’ll pay you one hundred million after taxes. And I’ll make you a star.”
One—hundred—million?!
Jing Li straightened up in his seat without a word, but he didn’t commit either way.
Catching the movement, Ji Yunzhang gave him a gentle smile. He could guess at Jing Li’s hesitations and moved to reassure him. “Our marriage would be fake. I won’t touch you unless it’s absolutely necessary. We can draw up an agreement, spell out every single term and responsibility, and have lawyers notarize it.”
The promise swept away Jing Li’s final reservations. Pies really do fall from the sky!
Ji Yunzhang’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’d like you to say yes.”
Jing Li couldn’t come up with a single reason not to.
He’d get to spend two years living side-by-side with his idol!
And most importantly: after taxes—one—hundred—million!
He could practically see his dream retirement life waving him over.
Jing Li broke into a smile and called out sweetly, “Husband.”
His eyes curved into crescents, a hint of mischief in them. “Like that?”
The sudden endearment caught Ji Yunzhang off guard, leaving him momentarily stunned—a rare crack in his usual poise. It took him several seconds to recover. “No need for that. Just keep it normal. Yunzhang works fine.”
Jing Li tried it out. “Yunzhang.” It felt weird, so after a moment’s thought, he said, “Nah, better stick with Teacher Ji.”
Ji Yunzhang was older, after all, and his idol. Calling him by his given name alone felt disrespectful!
Ji Yunzhang nodded. “That works too.”
They still needed to hash out the details of this fake marriage, but President Wu’s office wasn’t the place for an in-depth talk. Ji Yunzhang stood. “Let’s move somewhere else.”
Jing Li agreed and rose with him.
“Right—where’s President Wu?” Jing Li asked, puzzled. “Why’d he lend you his office?”
“All the other conference rooms were booked.”
Ji Yunzhang paused and looked down at him. “He’s in an investment meeting. Do you need to see him?”
“Nope.” Jing Li grinned. “Let’s go.”
Once inside the elevator, he fired off a WeChat message to Le Xiaoxiao, telling him to meet at the parking garage. He looked up to find Ji Yunzhang glancing down at him. “Hm?”
“I’m bringing my manager along.” It wasn’t a question—just a heads-up.
Ji Yunzhang recalled the background file he’d reviewed that morning. “Le Xiaoxiao?”
“That’s him.”
“You trust him that much?”
Jing Li smiled. “He’s my friend.”
Ji Yunzhang hummed in acknowledgment. “Fine.”
This was the private express elevator, reserved for President Wu and the company’s top executives. With just the two of them inside, Jing Li watched the floor numbers drop. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Why me?”
A fake marriage would be easier with some random nobody. Sure, Jing Li wasn’t famous, but he was still in the entertainment industry—and Ji Yunzhang had promised to boost his career.
Ji Yunzhang had a slight height advantage. Up close like this, Jing Li had to tilt his head to meet his eyes. Ji Yunzhang looked down, his gaze almost enveloping him. Seeming to sense the pressure it exerted, he took a step back. “I saw you last night. At the entrance to your apartment complex.”
Jing Li blinked in surprise.
The elevator dinged open onto the underground parking garage. Without the building’s heat, a chill hung in the air. Jing Li tugged his coat closer and wrapped his scarf around his neck. He glanced sideways at Ji Yunzhang, who was shrugging into his own coat. The simple black overcoat looked effortlessly elegant and sharp on him.
Ji Yunzhang led him to his car and asked if he wanted to wait inside. Jing Li shook his head. “Go on.”
“I saw you chatting with a little girl using sign language, teaching her how to fold paper flowers. And how at ease you were with all those elderly folks,” Ji Yunzhang said, meeting his eyes. “I thought you seemed like a patient, kind person.”
It was such a straightforward reason.
Jing Li mulled it over, then blurted out, “Are you a face-con?”
His eyes sparkled brightly, like a clear lake under sunlight, reminiscent of a child eagerly seeking praise. Ji Yunzhang couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, everyone likes attractive people and things. I’m no exception.”
This was undoubtedly praise for him, and Jing Li felt fully satisfied, his brows and eyes curving into a smile.
Well, the reason no longer seemed so simplistic.
Five minutes passed, but Le Xiaoxiao still hadn’t come down. Jing Li leaned against the car door, kicking his feet idly, and tossed out another question. “Why haven’t you seriously looked for a partner?”
He tilted his head, his expression puzzled. “What if, during our two years of fake marriage, you meet someone you like?”
Ji Yunzhang’s expression remained mild. “You have a lot of questions.”
“Because I’m really curious.” Jing Li was frank about it.
He truly was curious. The man before him was the idol he’d been a fan of for years! And now he was his fake marriage partner. Even a fake marriage meant spending days and nights together, sharing the same roof—it was only natural to learn more about him… Cough. He refused to admit he was just being nosy.
Ji Yunzhang leaned against the car as well, relaxing his posture. “I looked, but I haven’t found the right one. Fate is a wondrous thing, isn’t it?”
That was true.
Jing Li nodded.
“As for your second question, while our marriage is still in effect, I won’t develop feelings for anyone else.” His tone was calm and rational. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. Without deliberately creating opportunities to spend time together, emotions simply won’t arise.”
Jing Li completely agreed with that.
“Me too,” he said.
They chatted about other topics, with Jing Li doing most of the asking and Ji Yunzhang answering.
A few more minutes went by, and Le Xiaoxiao finally appeared. From a distance, he waved enthusiastically at Jing Li and picked up his pace. But the next instant, his eyes landed on Ji Yunzhang beside Jing Li, and he stumbled, nearly tumbling to the ground.
He stood there steadying himself for a long moment before jogging over.
Nervous, he quickly wiped his hand on his jacket before extending it to Ji Yunzhang. “Hello, Teacher Ji. I’m Jing Li’s manager, Le Xiaoxiao.”
“Hello.” Ji Yunzhang shook his hand, then turned to Jing Li. “Let’s get in the car.”
“Got it,” Jing Li replied. He glanced at the bewildered Le Xiaoxiao. “Drive and follow us. I’ll fill you in on the details later.”
Ji Yunzhang took them to a teahouse.
It was a little past four in the afternoon. The setting sun filtered through the flowers and trees in the courtyard, casting golden shadows of branches across the corridor. The gentle trickle of flowing water filled the air, a small bridge arched over the stream, and a breeze carried faint scents of flowers and tea.
The server led them into a private tea room nearby, brought tea and snacks, closed the door behind them, and withdrew.
Jing Li and Le Xiaoxiao sat across from Ji Yunzhang.
Ji Yunzhang personally brewed the tea. He placed the celadon cups filled with clear, translucent tea in front of them. “Please wait a moment for my manager. He should be here soon.”
Jing Li tapped the table three times lightly in thanks. “No rush.”
At that moment, Le Xiaoxiao finally recovered from the shock of learning about Jing Li’s fake marriage with Ji Yunzhang. He nudged Jing Li with his elbow, signaling that they should talk privately outside.
Jing Li, teacup in hand, tilted his head and saw the serious look on his face. “We’ll step out for a second,” he told Ji Yunzhang.
It was a secluded courtyard with fresh air and beautiful scenery—perfect for a private chat.
Jing Li casually squatted by the stream and gestured for Le Xiaoxiao to join him. “What is it?”
“What are you thinking?” Le Xiaoxiao asked.
Jing Li plucked a blade of grass and deftly folded it into a ring, slipping it onto his middle finger. “Put it this way: one hundred million after taxes, just for putting on a show in public. I really can’t think of a reason to say no.”
Le Xiaoxiao looked pained. “Are you really this superficial?”
Jing Li propped his chin on one hand and met his eyes. “One hundred million after taxes. Overnight riches!”
Le Xiaoxiao: “…”
Who wouldn’t want to get rich overnight?
“See?” Jing Li spread his hands.
He plucked another blade of grass and folded it into a second ring, then drove the point home with a single sentence that struck at Le Xiaoxiao’s heart. “He also promised to make me a star.”
Le Xiaoxiao fell silent. Making Jing Li famous had become his obsession.
With a sigh, Le Xiaoxiao said, “But the pressure you’ll face from this is way bigger than what Ji Yunzhang will deal with. You’ll get torn apart online. His fans are legion.”
Ji Yunzhang had shot to fame right out of the gate. At just thirty-two, he’d swept every major domestic industry award, earning the title of the youngest Grand Slam Film emperor. His undeniable talent and striking looks had drawn countless fans, and his approval among audiences was sky-high. None of his projects had ever flopped.
Far too many people knew him and respected him, while Jing Li was a complete unknown, a struggling actor lucky to scrape by outside the eighteenth tier. Once their “marriage” went public, fans and the general audience would scrutinize Jing Li under a microscope.
“No worries,” Jing Li said, his mindset as steady as ever. He smiled and added, “Just steer clear of social media. They can’t exactly crawl through the cables to come beat me up.”
“…” Le Xiaoxiao wasn’t sure what to say to that, but he had to admit Jing Li’s attitude was impressive—especially in the entertainment industry, where you needed nerves of steel to brush off what other people thought.
Catching sight of someone approaching out of the corner of his eye, Jing Li turned and recognized Ji Yunzhang’s agent. He slipped the two neatly folded grass rings into his pocket, brushed off his clothes, and stood up.
An Jiaming had spotted Jing Li and Le Xiaoxiao squatting by the stream from a distance, brimming with curiosity. As he drew near, he greeted them and asked, “What are you two up to?”
“Chatting.”
Jing Li went on, “We were just about to head back. Walk with us?”
Considering that Jing Li would soon sign on with Ji Yunzhang’s Studio—making him essentially one of his own artists—An Jiaming couldn’t help giving him a more professional once-over.
Delicate features, a straight high nose bridge, lips with a subtle upward curl at the center, perfectly shaped and inviting. His skin was smooth and fair… No matter the angle, Jing Li was strikingly handsome.
Even bundled up in an oversized down jacket, his slim waist and long legs were evident, his proportions impeccable.
An Jiaming found himself marveling yet again at just how outstanding Jing Li’s looks were.
There was nothing but pure appreciation and assessment in An Jiaming’s gaze, so Jing Li didn’t mind. He let the man look his fill for a moment before speaking up. The three of them headed into the tea room together.
With both agents present, they hashed out the details of the sham marriage contract. Ji Yunzhang and Jing Li chimed in now and then from the sidelines until, at last, around seven in the evening, the draft was complete.
The lawyer wasn’t available that day for notarization, so they scheduled the signing for tomorrow at Ji Yunzhang’s Studio. Jing Li stretched languidly. “That’s it for today?”
“Yeah.” Ji Yunzhang grabbed his coat from nearby and shrugged it on. Once he’d straightened up, he asked in that warm voice of his, “What do you feel like for dinner? Chinese or Western?”
“Chinese.”
Ji Yunzhang nodded and told An Jiaming to scout a spot ahead of time.
As An Jiaming turned to leave, Le Xiaoxiao made his exit too. He mimed a phone call to Jing Li, then headed off with his briefcase in hand.
That left just Jing Li and Ji Yunzhang.
Jing Li fished the grass ring he’d folded earlier out of his pocket and offered the larger one to Ji Yunzhang. His eyes curved into delighted crescents, prettier than the sliver of moon overhead. “For you. Our ‘token of affection.’”
It was another curveball, catching Ji Yunzhang off guard once more. When he recovered, he let out a wry chuckle, already certain that sharing a home with Jing Li was going to be anything but dull.
Amusement lit up his eyes. “I’ll treasure it.”
