Jing Li touched down at A City Airport at eleven o’clock at night. It was late, and he was already feeling sleepy. No sooner had he stepped off the plane than he started yawning nonstop. Le Xiaoxiao grabbed their luggage and asked, “Want to wash your face?”
“Sure.” He handed over his backpack and headed for the restroom.
After splashing water on his face, Jing Li perked up a bit. Le Xiaoxiao passed him his phone. “Ji Yunzhang just called. I didn’t pick up. Call him back.”
Jing Li took the phone and stepped aside to dial.
It rang once before Ji Yunzhang picked up, his low, magnetic voice filling the line. “Where are you?”
“About to head out of the airport.”
“Good. I’m waiting for you at the entrance.”
Jing Li froze for a second, then instinctively glanced toward the airport exterior—but a wall blocked the view.
“Why’d you come?” he asked, turning back.
Ji Yunzhang let out a soft chuckle. “To pick you up and take you home.”
Home.
The corners of Jing Li’s mouth tugged upward. “Give me two minutes. I’ll be right there.”
He hung up, shoved the phone in his pocket, called out to Le Xiaoxiao, and hurried off. His steps were quick. Le Xiaoxiao blinked in confusion, realizing he’d fallen behind, and broke into a run to catch up. “What’s the rush?”
Jing Li was grinning ear to ear, his voice light and buoyant. “Teacher Ji’s here. He’s waiting for us at the entrance.”
Le Xiaoxiao thought to himself, He’s waiting for you. Not me.
He mulled over the snippets of their interactions on the film set over the past few days, keenly sensing that something had begun to shift between them.
Glancing at Jing Li, he saw pure, unmasked delight lighting up his face, and Le Xiaoxiao smiled. No need to ask. The answer was plain as day.
This was the spark of infatuation—feelings heating up.
They stepped out of the airport right on the dot. Jing Li immediately spotted the Bentley Mulsanne parked a short distance away. Its headlights flashed once, then it glided slowly toward him.
He slid into the car and turned his head. Ji Yunzhang looked like he’d just come from a banquet hall—flawlessly made up, still in a perfectly tailored formal suit. He lounged there at ease, tie loosened to reveal the elegant line of his neck and his sexy Adam’s apple.
Jing Li took a light sniff. A faint trace of alcohol lingered in the air.
“Banquet tonight?” he asked.
Ji Yunzhang nodded. “Yeah, the wrap party for Spring Splendor.” Once Le Xiaoxiao had stowed the luggage and settled into the passenger seat, he gave An Jiaming the signal to drive.
Jing Li knew the film. A debut director’s family-friendly action comedy on a shoestring budget, it had hit theaters on New Year’s Day and racked up over two billion at the box office already.
But Ji Yunzhang hadn’t starred in it. So why the wrap party?
He shot Ji Yunzhang a puzzled look.
Catching on, Ji Yunzhang explained, “I’m the primary investor.”
Jing Li blinked, his mind racing through the box office splits—Ji Yunzhang had to be pocketing several hundred million at least. He couldn’t hold back an awed “Whoa!”
So much money!
“What’s got you?” Ji Yunzhang asked.
An Jiaming flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror. Le Xiaoxiao twisted around from the front seat.
“That’s some serious profit,” Jing Li blurted.
Le Xiaoxiao: “…”
An Jiaming: “…”
Ji Yunzhang was blindsided yet again by the cuteness. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, chuckling low. “It is pretty lucrative.”
Jing Li eyed his own modest savings and decided he desperately needed that kind of money-begets-money magic.
He scooted closer to Ji Yunzhang, tugged at his sleeve, and tilted his face up, eyes sparkling like a sky full of stars. “Teacher Ji, I wanna make money like that too.”
His tone came out unconsciously wheedling.
From that upward angle, his pale neck was laid bare—slender, exquisite, fragile.
Maybe it was the extra drinks from the evening, but Ji Yunzhang’s restraint wavered. His Adam’s apple bobbed faintly as his gaze drifted from Jing Li’s neck to his lips, lingering there.
He couldn’t help thinking back to that kissing scene. Jing Li’s lips had been so soft, carrying a faint milky sweetness that day.
Ji Yunzhang just stared, silent, mind elsewhere. Jing Li waved a hand in front of his face. “Teacher Ji?”
Ji Yunzhang’s eyes darkened a fraction before he caught Jing Li’s fingers, then looked up with a gentle expression. In a soft murmur, he said, “Alright. Next time, I’ll take you with me.”
He let go and added warmly, “Now sit nice and proper.”
Jing Li, pleased with the promise, settled back obediently.
The car fell quiet as his excitement ebbed. After a bit, sleepiness crept back in. He yawned repeatedly, eyelids drooping, head bobbing despite himself.
Ji Yunzhang noticed.
“Tired?” His voice was gentle as velvet.
Jing Li leaned his head against the car window, his eyes closed, his response a soft murmur. “Mm.”
Perhaps the window glass was too hard a pillow, or maybe the interior lights were too bright, but Jing Li’s sleep was uneasy, his brows slightly furrowed.
Ji Yunzhang glanced over, reached out, and drew him close, letting him rest against his shoulder. He carefully adjusted Jing Li into a more comfortable position, then signaled An Jiaming to turn off the lights.
The car plunged into darkness at once, lit only by the occasional glow from passing streetlights outside.
Sensing the shift to a softer spot, Jing Li groggily cracked his eyes open. Seeing it was Ji Yunzhang, he closed them again, utterly at ease.
It was a trust that came naturally.
An oncoming car brushed past theirs, its headlights piercing through the window. The shifting light and shadow danced across Ji Yunzhang’s face as he gazed down at the man in his arms, his eyes lowered in quiet gentleness.
Jing Li slept deeply and sweetly. Even when they pulled into the underground garage of the neighborhood, he showed no sign of waking. Le Xiaoxiao started to call out to him, but a faint glance from Ji Yunzhang silenced him at once.
“You two head back,” Ji Yunzhang said.
An Jiaming regarded him with a complicated look for several seconds but said nothing in the end. He opened the car door and stepped out, gesturing for Le Xiaoxiao to follow.
This was Ji Yunzhang’s private garage, secured with a lock and housing several of his cars. The keys were kept here too. An Jiaming grabbed one and motioned for Le Xiaoxiao to get into another vehicle.
Once they had gone, Ji Yunzhang lowered his head. His finger lightly scraped across Jing Li’s soft cheek. Disturbed by the touch, Jing Li only burrowed deeper into his embrace.
Ji Yunzhang smiled soundlessly. He didn’t disturb him further but let him keep sleeping against his chest while closing his own eyes to rest.
Jing Li woke half an hour later.
He was nestled in Ji Yunzhang’s arms, enveloped entirely in the man’s familiar scent. Ji Yunzhang’s hand still rested on his waist, as if anchoring him in place.
Dazed, Jing Li couldn’t quite tell where he was—or whether this was reality or a dream. He lifted a hand and pinched his own arm hard.
It hurt.
Then came a low chuckle.
“Awake?” Ji Yunzhang asked, amusement threading through his voice.
Jing Li jolted in surprise. He scrambled out of Ji Yunzhang’s hold, limbs flailing, his ear tips burning hot. Embarrassed, he rubbed at them, hoping to hide the flush.
Once he’d steadied his nerves, he cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You were sleeping so soundly,” Ji Yunzhang replied. He shifted his body, stiff from holding the same position for so long, and offered a faint smile. With a teasing lilt, he added, “I couldn’t bear to.”
Jing Li’s hand stilled on his ear, his mind turning to mush for a long moment.
Reason reasserted itself at last. He touched his face, concluding that Ji Yunzhang was just teasing him again.
His gaze drifted off to the side. Several seconds passed before it returned, only to find Ji Yunzhang frowning. Jing Li leaned in closer. “What’s wrong? Uncomfortable?”
“My hand’s gone numb.”
The drive from the airport to the neighborhood took more than an hour. Jing Li had dozed off shortly after they set out, leaving Ji Yunzhang to support his weight the whole time. No wonder it was numb.
Without overthinking it, Jing Li seized Ji Yunzhang’s hand and began massaging it from the wrist down. He gave it a few shakes afterward, then looked up. “Better now?”
Ji Yunzhang gazed at him, his voice even softer than the night itself. “Better.”
Jing Li released him and pushed open the car door. “Then let’s head home.”
As the elevator rose, Ji Yunzhang remembered something. “I’ve been keeping Custard Bun at the house for now.”
He meant the Ji Residence, and Jing Li knew it. With Jing Li away these past days and Ji Yunzhang busy with work—not to mention his dislike for live-in help—it had been inconvenient to care for the pet alone. The main residence was spacious, with plenty of staff, so Custard Bun could romp about freely and be well looked after.
Jing Li nodded.
They reached the top floor and stepped out of the elevator, one after the other. “We can pick it up tomorrow when we head back,” Ji Yunzhang said.
Jing Li unlocked the door with his fingerprint. “Could it stay a few more days?”
They were about to leave again to film the variety show—at least three or four days away.
Ji Yunzhang laughed. “They’d be delighted.”
~~~
After a full day of rest at home, the Romantic Journey program team arrived to film the preview episode.
It was Ji Yunzhang’s variety show debut, so they were taking it seriously. Chief director Guan Lin had come in person. She was slender and tall, dressed in bright, fashionable clothes. She greeted them openly and naturally upon arrival.
“Teacher Ji, Teacher Jing.”
Ji Yunzhang inclined his head and gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat.”
He added, “Give us a moment—Jing Li hasn’t had breakfast yet.”
With that, he led Jing Li back to the dining table and had him sit down to eat. Ji Yunzhang took the seat beside him, keeping him company so he wouldn’t feel awkward eating alone.
Even with Ji Yunzhang there, Jing Li couldn’t help the heat rising in his cheeks. The etiquette lessons drilled into him since childhood insisted that keeping guests waiting was terribly rude.
He said softly, “Teacher Ji, why didn’t you wake me up?” He had woken up too early that morning, taken a nap afterward, and forgotten to set an alarm, so he overslept.
Ji Yunzhang said, “Actually, I overslept too.”
He puffed out his cheeks. “You’re lying.”
Ji Yunzhang curved his lips and told the truth. “I wanted you to sleep a little longer. It was them who arrived early.” It was probably because it was the weekend and there was no traffic that they arrived half an hour ahead of the scheduled time.
He affectionately tapped Jing Li on the forehead and chuckled. “Don’t overthink it. They won’t mind. On the contrary, they’ll be delighted to see us like this.”
Jing Li didn’t react for a moment. “?”
Ji Yunzhang lazily propped up his chin and gestured for him to look at them.
Jing Li turned to look, only to see the follow-up camera crew holding up the camera with the lens aimed right at them. They had already recorded this moment, their expressions faintly excited and thrilled. Guan Lin sat with her legs crossed and tilted to one side in an elegant lady’s posture, a smile on her face. She was clearly very satisfied to capture such material.
She could almost imagine the barrage of comments during broadcast—the audience would go wild.
This was a couple’s variety show; it needed this kind of sweet daily life.
Jing Li retracted his gaze, understanding now.
After breakfast, Jing Li tidied up his things and returned to the living room, where he politely apologized to Guan Lin and the staff.
They were all momentarily stunned.
After all, it was rare for celebrities to be so well-behaved and polite.
He was so obedient and so good-looking that Guan Lin couldn’t help but glance at Ji Yunzhang with jealousy and envy.
Ji Yunzhang curved his lips, took Jing Li’s hand, and enveloped it in his palm.
Guan Lin took in this possessive declaration and was stunned, then found it amusing.
She had originally been a bit worried since it was their first time on a variety show and they might not understand the format well, potentially exposing many issues—especially regarding their relationship. Ji Yunzhang had always been mild and polite on the surface, but anyone who truly interacted with him could sense his aloof detachment and strong boundaries.
If his interactions with Jing Li were the same, it would be a disaster.
Now, it seemed there was no need to worry at all.
Guan Lin asked, “Can we film around the place a bit?” She pointed at the living room.
Ji Yunzhang hummed in agreement. “Feel free.”
The follow-up crew then walked around with the camera. The lens captured a Steinway grand piano, then panned to a guqin placed beside it.
The cameraman’s daughter was learning guqin, so he had some knowledge of it. He had assumed this guqin was from a famous brand and wanted to film it, but he couldn’t find the logo.
Jing Li told him, “Teacher made this guqin for me himself.”
“Elder Yu?”
Jing Li’s eyes curved. “Yes.”
He walked over and gently plucked a harmonic on the strings. The tone was exceptionally bright and clear.
Guan Lin remembered that Jing Li, as Elder Yu’s final disciple, had never publicly displayed his guqin skills before. Having him debut them on the show would be perfect, so she said, “Could you play a piece?”
Jing Li looked puzzled, so Guan Lin explained her idea.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Jing Li said with a smile. “There’s already footage of me playing in Director Ding’s Set Diary from last night.”
“I see.” Guan Lin felt a bit regretful—the “debut” hook was gone.
She thought for a moment and added, “Play anyway. Just something casual; one piece is fine. Audiences love artists with talent and skill.”
This would guarantee ratings while also creating an opportunity for Jing Li to attract fans.
A win-win—why not?
Jing Li naturally understood her good intentions and nodded. “I’ll play a short segment of ‘Wine Madness.’ I like this piece.”
Jing Li was dressed in comfortable casual clothes that originally clashed with the guqin, but his hands were so beautiful, and he himself was so striking. Moreover, when his hands touched the strings, his entire aura transformed.
That sense of mismatch suddenly vanished.
Playing guqin emphasized emotion and artistic conception. Jing Li played quite casually, but his tones were steady, and the free-spirited mood conveyed itself through the strings and notes, naturally drawing listeners into the scene he evoked.
When he finished, Guan Lin felt a lingering aftertaste. She wasn’t deeply knowledgeable about traditional instruments, but purely as a listener, she thought it was excellent.
“You played beautifully,” she said sincerely.
“It’s actually not good enough. My teacher plays far better,” Jing Li replied. Then he added, “Thank you.”
Afterward, the follow-up crew filmed them packing their luggage and asked a few procedural questions. With that, the pre-debut episode was wrapped.
After seeing off the program team, Jing Li returned to the guqin and touched it. Ji Yunzhang stayed by his side. “What’s wrong?”
Jing Li hesitated for a moment, then turned his head. “After the first episode’s filming is done, could you come with me to visit Teacher?”
Ji Yunzhang’s gaze softened. “Of course I can.”
