Chapter 59: Jiang Shunnian Falls Ill

They say short separations are better than honeymoons.

Even though Jiang Shunnian had once resolved not to let Fu Yanli have him so easily, his body—which had tasted ultimate pleasure before—quickly awakened those memories under Fu Yanli’s scorching kisses. His willpower crumbled, and he responded instinctively.

The time apart had been short, so Fu Yanli didn’t go on for long. Fifty minutes later, he carried Jiang Shunnian off to clean up.

Jiang Shunnian felt utterly limp all over, his body and mind both relaxed.

Fu Yanli loved having Jiang Shunnian sprawl on top of him, their skin pressed fully together.

But Jiang Shunnian seemed even thinner now—only his ass still had some meat to it. Fu Yanli stroked his lean back, his heart aching with distress.

“Want to sleep for a bit?” Fu Yanli asked.

Jiang Shunnian shook his head, though. He wasn’t sleepy yet.

“Did something happen?” Fu Yanli keenly sensed that Jiang Shunnian’s mood was off.

“Yeah, a little.” Jiang Shunnian admitted.

The filming progress had been slow lately because the director was incredibly strict.

He was the most demanding one Jiang Shunnian had encountered since joining the crew—nitpicking every detail to an obsessive degree.

Even though Jiang Shunnian had prepared thoroughly in advance, memorizing his lines down pat and deeply analyzing the character’s psyche, he still got NG’d multiple times.

Many actors in the crew had been chewed out to the point of doubting themselves, and Jiang Shunnian had been scolded too. The director’s exact words were, “Don’t think that just because you went to drama school, starred in a few roles, and got hyped up by fans, you’re some accomplished actor. You’re still miles away.”

Jiang Shunnian recounted his recent experiences to Fu Yanli honestly—not because he felt wronged, but because he was grateful. “Yanli, I’ve been getting a bit full of myself lately. My fans love me and keep praising me, and hardly anyone around me ever questions my acting. It made me think I was really good, a qualified actor.”

Fu Yanli listened attentively, then replied, “Shunnian, I’ve watched all your TV dramas. I’m an outsider, so I can’t offer much constructive advice. But I feel like you might be relying too much on the acting methods they taught you in school—everything feels boxed in by that framework. Also, the characters you pick are flashy but lack depth; they’re pretty one-note.”

Jiang Shunnian had been lying prone in Fu Yanli’s arms, but at those words, he propped himself up to meet his gaze, eyes lighting up. “Yanli, you said exactly the same thing as Director Zheng! How are you so amazing? You even know about acting!”

“Because I pay close attention to you.” Fu Yanli pressed him back down into his embrace. “Actually, at your age, your skills are more than enough. No one says you have to be perfect. But I know you’re not satisfied with that. I believe you can break through, refine your craft even further.”

Jiang Shunnian let out a little whimper. Fu Yanli got him!

When Director Zheng chewed him out, some actors behind the scenes griped that he was too harsh—plenty of takes could’ve passed, but he insisted on reshooting over and over.

But Jiang Shunnian didn’t see it that way. Director Zheng had nailed his issues spot-on, and now Fu Yanli had pointed out the exact same flaws: his acting had grown too formulaic.

Suddenly, Jiang Shunnian felt a twinge of self-doubt. “You see all these problems in me… does that mean you think I’m not actually that great?”

His mentality had cracked under Director Zheng’s scolding too, making him question if he was even cut out to be an actor.

“No way, baby.” Fu Yanli responded immediately, offering firm reassurance. “You’re always a perfect ten to me. Shunnian, you’re only twenty-six. You’ve got plenty of time to hone your skills, and I’ll be right there with you until you reach the top.”

A lover who could whisper sweet nothings like that was a huge bonus. Jiang Shunnian nuzzled into Fu Yanli’s chest, unconsciously mimicking Nono’s way of speaking. “You too, okay? You’re my perfect lover.”

At that moment, Jiang Shunnian desperately wanted to shout it to the world: Fu Yanli was his partner.

So he had to keep pushing himself.

Back on set, Jiang Shunnian worked even harder than before. He wasn’t afraid of the scoldings anymore—he revised take after take, following Director Zheng’s demands to the letter.

Sometimes, he was even stricter on himself than the director required.

When not filming, he’d drag over a little stool and sit by the monitor, studying the footage.

Director Zheng’s view of him completely shifted, and he grew more willing to offer pointers.

As New Year’s approached, the weather turned bitterly cold. Jiang Shunnian had his RV and the extra-long down jacket Nono bought him, so he didn’t feel the chill off-camera. But his costume was thin, and one night the temperature plummeted. Even with the ginger-red sugar tea his assistant had brewed, he still caught a cold.

He didn’t think much of it at first. But after wrapping a day of filming feeling groggy and faint, he realized he was running a fever.

Jiang Shunnian rarely got sick—his health had always been good. Even after his first time with Fu Yanli, he’d only had tearing, no fever. Afterward, nurtured by the Medicinal Jade, even his chills were cured.

But this cold hit hard. The medicine didn’t help, and though he wanted to tough it out, Director Zheng sent him back to the hotel to rest.

His assistant suggested going to the hospital, but Jiang Shunnian—afraid of needles—refused, saying he’d be fine after some meds and rest.

He slept for what felt like forever, only to be woken by someone.

He sensed hands prying his legs apart, then something warm and smooth sliding into his body…

Jiang Shunnian struggled to open his eyes and, sure enough, saw Fu Yanli inserting the Medicinal Jade. He was utterly shocked—and a bit aggrieved. Wasn’t Fu Yanli going too far? He was burning up, and here he was…

Then he remembered something from the super topic: they said a fever made things feel even better with the heightened temperature.

Was Fu Yanli trying to test that out?

Jiang Shunnian’s expressions were always so vivid and easy to read. Fu Yanli got it immediately, his worried face shifting to helpless exasperation. “Shunnian, I’m not that thirsty for it.”

Eh? I didn’t say that out loud.

Back then, little Jiang Shunnian had thought: I’ll never get sick again. No one will take care of me anyway.

But now, Fu Yanli’s care was meticulous: taking his temperature, feeding him warm water, wiping his sweat and body, even massaging his fever-aching joints. Jiang Shunnian realized illness wasn’t scary after all.

“Yanli, I love you.” Jiang Shunnian said, reaching out his arms for a hug.

Fu Yanli didn’t hesitate, pulling him close and stroking his back gently. “I know. Me too—I love you so much.”

Nestled in Fu Yanli’s arms, Jiang Shunnian drifted off again soon.

When he woke next, whether from the Medicinal Jade or not, his fever had broken.

Nono called with a video, voice full of worry about his health.

“Dad, I wanted to come see you, but Big Dad wouldn’t let me.” Nono was still a bit sulky about it. “I was really worried about you.”

Jiang Shunnian’s brows softened, his tone gentle. “Big Dad’s just scared you’ll catch my cold, baby. But I’m over the fever now—Nono doesn’t need to worry.”

Nono was easy to soothe; he understood Fu Yanli’s concern. “Then Dad has to get better fast.”

“I will, Dad promises.”

By the next morning, Jiang Shunnian was mostly recovered. He wanted to head to set, but Fu Yanli made him rest another full day.

With New Year’s nearing, Fu Corporation wasn’t swamped—in fact, it was quieter than before.

They always wrapped up the annual plan early, no need to scramble for year-end targets.

This year, thanks to the economic summit and the viral livestream, Fu Corporation landed tons of new partnerships. Profits shattered records, and employee bonuses doubled.

Other companies were green with envy—Fu Corporation nearly trended again online.

Folks flooded the official Fu Corporation account’s comments, begging President Fu to expand so they could jump ship and work there.

Pei Qingrong even teased Fu Yanli about it, saying with Fu Corporation around, the rest of them looked like heartless capitalists.

Fu Yanli hit back precisely: “So that’s why you didn’t poach Lu Qinghe.”

When Pei Qingrong lured Lu Qinghe back, he’d messaged Fu Yanli at midnight, sending ten massive red envelopes in thanks for his prior care of Lu Qinghe.

Later, Pei Qingrong aggressively invited Lu Qinghe to Pei Corporation, offering to cover the breach penalty himself.

But Lu Qinghe kept refusing.

He loved Fu Corporation’s vibe: a boss who was a true insider, ample funding, all the researchers were big shots—and total lone-wolf introverts who never gossiped outside work, super friendly to him.

The smile faded slowly from Pei Qingrong’s face. “President Fu plays dirty.”

Jiang Shunnian was hooked on their story and couldn’t help laughing.

But what Fu Yanli told him next wiped the smile right off.

Fu Yanli had the dirt on the man behind Qin Group. After New Year’s, he’d strike.

He’d never stopped digging into the guy. Finally, through Pei Qingrong’s connections, he’d nailed the evidence.

Turns out Qin Guanyue had been pimping out his agency’s artists like commodities.

The poor souls were coerced with threats and bribes, or straight-up drugged. With videos as leverage, they never spoke up.

One year, they even ran a talent show, targeting seventeen- and eighteen-year-old girls. Exploiting contract loopholes, they forced them into it—or face sky-high penalties.

A pack of utterly heartless beasts.

No wonder he ran with Qin Group’s crowd—birds of a feather.

Jiang Shunnian was furious beyond words, itching to drag them to justice himself.

The industry was messy with unspoken rules aplenty, but this raw brutality? A first for him.

“Yanli, please—wipe them out completely. Who knows how many more victims there’ll be!”

Fu Yanli patted Jiang Shunnian’s shoulder soothingly. The files had horrified him too; he loathed them.

He’d plan meticulously for a single, decisive blow—no escapes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.”

Jiang Shunnian nodded. He trusted Fu Yanli.

But a vague unease lingered in his heart, source unknown.