Chapter 52

Shen Li had been held like this by Qian Xingzhi before.

Back then, Qian Xingzhi had been like a large dog that only knew how to act spoiled, far cuter than he was now.

Even so, a hug in this one-standing-one-sitting position rarely lasted long. Qian Xingzhi’s nose would soon rub against him, inching downward with persistent nuzzles.

Inhale. Exhale.

He would proceed slowly and steadily with what came next. Most of the time, Shen Li would press down on that mischievous head, giving the skin beneath his palm a couple of light pats to call it off—because there were still things to do afterward.

But in those other moments when nothing was pressing, Shen Li would indulge him.

Until Qian Xingzhi’s arms hooked around his hip bones, hoisting him onto the table or straight to the bed…

Right now, though, Qian Xingzhi was on his best behavior. He merely pressed his face against Shen Li’s abdomen and went no further. Listening to the chatter outside the dressing room, Shen Li let his cool palm slide downward anyway, cupping Qian Xingzhi’s jaw.

His chilled fingertips grazed the pulsing vein along his neck, deftly skirting that bobbing Adam’s apple. Shen Li applied pressure, tilting Qian Xingzhi’s chin upward.

“—Go take off your makeup,” Shen Li said.

The words had barely left his mouth when Qian Xingzhi—unlike the version from his memories, who would have whined and clung—immediately turned his head aside. He released Shen Li in an instant and sat bolt upright, as if the overstepping embrace had never happened at all.

“Sorry.”

His voice came out icy and a touch hoarse.

Shen Li said nothing more. He simply watched Qian Xingzhi’s retreating back as the man promptly rose and headed to the sink, falling silent for over half a minute before voicing the question that had been nagging at him:

“Why did you suddenly go live this morning?”

The rush of running water accompanied Qian Xingzhi’s reply:

“Multiple reasons.”

“Then start with the main one.”

“Public opinion monitoring requires it. The show’s blowing up traffic-wise, and with WCC about to get hit with scandals—possibly even arrests—last night’s call said we need more detailed data.”

Shen Li didn’t know much about traffic metrics or public sentiment, but he remembered how, back when they were nabbing suspects, they’d always pin down the optimal timing before moving in. Jiang Nan wouldn’t be out long as bait, and WCC—that infamous entertainment company—was due for a cleanup. The impact had to be just right: not too small to make a real statement or deter the rest of the industry, but not so massive that it sparked runaway outrage and eroded public trust.

And that female actress from three years ago, officially ruled a “tragic drowning accident”—whether it truly was or hid something darker—it was the perfect chance to dig up the truth amid this coming industry shake-up.

Shen Li nodded in understanding, pausing thoughtfully before saying, “Got it. If there’s anything in the show you need me to cooperate on, just let me know.”

“Okay.”

Shen Li pressed: “And the secondary reasons?”

Qian Xingzhi had just called this the main one.

The water cut off abruptly the moment Shen Li finished speaking.

Qian Xingzhi’s neck tendons stood out faintly as he pushed upright from the counter. Droplets clung precariously to his brow bone before he shook them off his face.

His gaze drifted flatly toward Shen Li’s porcelain-pale reflection in the mirror. He held silent for a few seconds, his eyes darkening as he looked away.

He yanked three tissues from the box, wiping his face while stating the facts with cool objectivity:

“Secondary reasons can wait until after the main one.”

In other words, Shen Li needn’t ask.

Shen Li got the hint. The secondary reason was likely something personal on Qian Xingzhi’s end. “Fine,” he said calmly. “You handle it as you see fit. I’m going to check on Li Weiwei and the others.”

“Mm.”

As Shen Li departed, the sun broke free from the clouds, its rays flooding through the window.

Qian Xingzhi tore his eyes from the mirror—no longer tracking Shen Li’s back—and fixed a cold, brooding stare on the sun instead.

The damn thing looked like a little paper lantern.

It was the exact same sun as eighteen years ago. Yet Shen Li’s gait was lopsided now, one step light, the next heavy.

Qian Xingzhi’s gaze darkened further.

Just moments ago, he’d gauged it roughly with his arm: Shen Li was at least twenty pounds lighter than he’d been in high school.

But his own heart felt numb, oblivious to whether it ached or not.

Evading glances, carefully measured exchanges, probes that knew when to stop—they all mattered even less now.

If high-school-style interactions put Shen Li more at ease, Qian Xingzhi could certainly restrain himself. He could honor their agreement and keep ambiguous gestures off public display.

Traffic testing could have waited for another time, but today’s morning magazine shoot—the two of them together—would draw their CP fans like flies. It was also a gentle heads-up for that crowd.

Qian Xingzhi knew the entertainment industry’s rules inside out.

On their first day back together, if CP fans dove in too deep—too fervent, too sincere—trouble would brew. Come show’s end, if Shen Li opted against “remarriage,” or if they did but split later in real life, a chunk of that fanbase was bound to go off the rails. The ones siding with Qian Xingzhi would trash Shen Li, drag his name through the mud. Shen Li might be oblivious to it all, but Qian Xingzhi had to preempt it.

This surprise stream was emergency damage control for the CP fans, too.

And it tied into Shen Li’s anger last night.

Shen Li loathed public displays of affection—hated them, even.

Yesterday, he’d been too reckless, too hungry for results. Flaunting the ring on camera? Elbowing Lin Xu out of his seat the second they walked in? None of it was Shen Li’s style.

On second thought…

Zhou Yulin wouldn’t cook just for Shen Li, portioning out everyone else’s meals like a hawk. By comparison, Qian Xingzhi’s antics must have mortified Shen Li. He prized dignity above all.

So before the noon livestream kicked off, Qian Xingzhi had pulled aside Assistant Xu.

He tasked marketing accounts with dropping another round: clips and shots hyping his High Cold Male God vibe.

Assistant Xu accepted with a blank face.

Boss, you legend, she thought.

They’d planned those sweet audio drops for when online buzz tanked. Now fans had barely started shipping, and here came the gut punches.

“You wouldn’t get the middle path,” Qian Xingzhi shot back.

Assistant Xu pocketed her fee with a professional grin that stretched wider, serving up honeyed agreement: “Right away, Boss. I’ll push those killer cold-face shots. Netizens might love ’em or not, but Mr. Shen definitely will.”

Qian Xingzhi: …

He followed up casually: “And our plant in the CP fans—did you brief her?”

“Yep. She’s shipped more pairs than you’ve starred in, impeccable rep, total pro. Already steering folks to take this zero-chemistry stream in stride.”

The internet’s winds shifted fast, as expected.

By midday—just one morning and lunch later—the “Save Money CP” from yesterday’s bliss had rebranded as “Strangers CP.” Qian Xingzhi’s old rivals and the bitter ex-fans dubbing themselves Money Jars were howling online, but the 【Xing Li Zhi Jian】 super topic stayed a bastion of peace.

No heavy-handed censorship, no spam-bombing images to drown out relationship talk.

Just chill threads, mostly:

【Everyone catch the bonus morning stream?】

【Wuwuwu, ugly crying rn】

【Saw it! Leopard and Cat Cat are too gorgeous!!! Face stan here!!! If no remarriage, odds on Cat Cat, evens on Leopard [joy] But if Leopard and Cat Cat tie the knot at the finale, I’ll be the world’s happiest little treasure! [joy]】

【Still kinda heartbroken tho. Mr. Qian feels off from the last few days】

【Eh, minimal touching? I get it. Wouldn’t wanna touch my ex either】

【…Still, this distance hits different. Kinda snapped me awake】

【Reality check time. Remarriage show or not, they gotta cuddle nonstop?】

【CP-ing’s about their vibes and personalities, yeah? Actual couple status is secondary.】

【Lmao dying, fan group dropped a new slogan—pinned in the super topic now】

【Spill! What slogan?】

【Pinned: “Save Money CP’s 16-Word Code”: Munch popcorn, watch the show. Respect, cheer! No drags, no stomps—villa seaside chillin’!】

[@replies: 19,439… expand]

…

The magazine shoot wrapped, and the group trudged back from the nearby studio to the cabin. Noon was fast approaching.

While Qian Xingzhi handled his business, Shen Li powered through his daily rehab. Post-lunch and with the next shoot looming, he wrapped up the files on his iPad, mapping fixes for key issues—aiming to polish them off today.

Shen Li’s efficiency was legendary. Sharp mind since kid days, plus Zhou Yulin’s drafts were solid overall. A few fuzzy data points to tweak, and any lapsed details? Reports tonight.

So when Ke Jiujiu floated DIY drinks, he passed.

Lin Xu’s invite to prep Yao Shuang’s guest room—potential vlog fodder? Nope.

Afternoon filming fired up. Cameras rolled, and not a minute in—before the loudspeaker’s system voice could chime—polite knocks sounded.

Knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock.

Shen Li didn’t answer right away. Face blank, he mused: Seven years was ages. Even a golden retriever could morph into a border collie, knocking all proper-like…

In came director Xiao Chen, hauling a camera rig.

She offered a card.

Would he take on the Hidden Task Card challenge? Afternoon hidden mission—finish on the down-low for bonus personal funds.

Shen Li’s elegant brows pinched faintly. He blinked, demurring politely: “Thanks, but no. Need a break.”

“It’s light on movement,” she urged. “More brainpower and finesse.”

“…Headache,” Shen Li said.

Xiao Chen gave an awkward chuckle. “Well, guests typically just… accept. No opt-out.”

Shen Li let out a faint sigh, his air of utter indifference thickening. Don’t ask “want to?” like he ever had a say.

He took the card. His expression turned peculiar:

【Broke Defense? Ex-Husband Bro!】 Hidden Task Card:

In today’s daytime tasks, pick 2 out of the 3 ex-husbands (not yourself). Use any means to “break their defense”—counted as tears falling or eyes welling up.】

Shen Li: ……

Shen Li’s eyes remained fixed on the task card. After pondering for a long moment, he finally turned to the director and asked, “Does Qian Xingzhi know about this segment?”

The director replied, “He does. Mr. Qian set all the segments himself.”

Shen Li’s frown deepened.

Why would Qian Xingzhi set up a segment like this?

—Want to cry?

What a bizarre request.

Xiao Chen hurriedly explained, “Ah, there are also some interactions with Teacher Yao. Since Teacher Yao was selected by the audience and is only participating for one day, we set this task for you to cooperate with her. That way, Teacher Yao will feel more involved. So, you’ll need to figure out a way to team up with her.”

Only then did Shen Li nod, indicating that he understood.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

“What exactly is the daytime task?”

“Oh, once Teacher Yao Shuang enters the cabin, the cabin broadcast will announce it. But I can tell you this much: today’s task will reveal each guest’s current occupation and annual income…”

Click, click, click!

Before Xiao Chen could finish speaking, the sound of elegant yet hurried high heels striking the ground approached from afar.

Knock, knock, knock.

A soft rap came at the half-open door.

Shen Li and Xiao Chen both turned to look, but the person outside did not push the door open and enter right away.

Shen Li was just about to say “come in” when a charming, melodious female voice floated clearly through the crack in the door from outside: “Sister-in-law, open the door! It’s me, your brother-in-law’s sister!~