I Live in Your Time

Chapter One Hundred and One

Shen Qianzhan disliked having so many people crowded into her room; it made her feel as if she were delivering her final words.

So she simply sent them all away.

With fewer people in the living room, it suddenly felt much more spacious.

She sat on the sofa with her laptop, repeatedly listening to and watching all the audio and video files Jiang Mengxin had posted on Weibo.

Qiao Xin said, "Jiang Mengxin didn’t maliciously edit anything. There’s no loophole we can target."

"What she did cleverly was to avoid the important points and only select what was favorable to her. Listen to the interview—she cut off the beginning and end, deleting your final question to her. Look, Qianzhan." Qiao Xin pointed at the video angle. "This is entirely Chen Yan directing and acting on his own. I was guarding Jiang Mengxin like a watchdog in the reception room; she never left my sight. How could she have filmed this on-site video?"

Shen Qianzhan glanced at her and corrected, "She never said she filmed it. You already know her trick is to avoid the important points, so why would you subjectively fall into the illusion she deliberately created?"

Compared to Qiao Xin, Shen Qianzhan was much calmer.

The audio hadn’t altered the order of the conversation or maliciously distorted her words. It merely served as evidence that there had indeed been an accidental death among the crew of Time.

So even if the crew released the full version of the audio, it wouldn’t help. With public opinion boiling over and overwhelmingly one-sided, Shen Qianzhan’s questioning would only be misinterpreted as arrogance and condescension. Even if it awakened a small number of rational individuals, it would be futile.

The more Qiao Xin thought about it, the angrier she became. Watching the video’s view count continue to skyrocket, she grumbled indignantly, "Nowadays, anyone can just tell a story with a picture and call it ‘evidence.’ The worst part is, so many people believe her. No one bothers to verify the truth; they just accept whatever they’re given, willingly letting themselves be used as tools."

"To stir up public opinion, all you need are a few images to work with. Do you really expect those indifferent bystanders to verify anything? With pictures, audio, and video—so much ‘evidence’—it’s already conclusive to them." Shen Qianzhan closed her laptop and glanced at Ji Qinghe, who was on the phone not far away.

Ever since the scandal about Endless Year broke out, his phone hadn’t stopped ringing.

Even without listening, Shen Qianzhan knew what those calls were about.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, checked the time, and instructed Qiao Xin to leave first. "At ten o’clock, wake up the Thousand Lights PR department. We’ll continue the meeting."

Qiao Xin mumbled an "okay," looking dejected as she shuffled out the door.

—

With the room empty, his voice became much clearer.

Shen Qianzhan didn’t deliberately eavesdrop. Instead, she went to boil water and heat some milk.

Her room was more like an apartment, with an open-plan kitchen. Though small, it was fully equipped. Aside from the refrigerator, which she occasionally used to keep fruit fresh or chill drinks, all the other kitchen appliances were practically decorations, largely treated by Shen Qianzhan as part of the living room.

It was rare for her to turn on the stove today, but she did so just to heat a carton of chilled milk.

Leaning against the countertop, she listened to the sound of the stove’s flame burning, letting her thoughts drift.

Gradually, steam rose from the water’s surface, and bubbles slowly floated up from the bottom of the pot. Slowly, gurgling and bubbling, it began to boil.

She stared blankly at the boiling water, as if completely unaware that it had already reached a boil, remaining motionless.Until a hand reached out from behind her and turned off the stove.

Only then did she snap back to reality, turning to look.

"Finished your call?"

"Heating milk?"

They spoke simultaneously.

Shen Qianzhan paused for a moment, tossing the mini-pack of coffee powder she held in her hand before answering first: "Wanted some coffee."

"Let me."

Ji Qinghe found heat-resistant gloves from the cabinet, used a spatula to scoop out the scalding milk, and prepared the coffee for her.

His fingers were slender, and he performed these actions with deliberate care, as if completing a work of art, standing out incongruously in this compact open kitchen.

Shen Qianzhan watched him stir the coffee powder evenly, the milky white milk gradually turning a creamy brown. Lost in thought for a moment, she said, "You should go back." Endless Year had been inexplicably implicated and attacked, and the headquarters was probably overwhelmed with frustration, harboring many grievances toward him as well.

Ji Qinghe’s hand paused briefly, and he looked up at her: "With you here, where would I go back to?"

"I’ve caused trouble for you and Endless Year." Shen Qianzhan avoided his gaze, took the cup of coffee, and continued stirring. "While I still have the authority, Endless Year should terminate the cooperation, withdraw the investment immediately, and protect itself."

The coffee cup was somewhat hot; she couldn’t hold it steadily and placed it on the countertop, lowering her voice: "All of this is just the beginning. The situation will only get worse from here. Considering Endless Year’s position, cutting losses in time is the best approach." Shen Qianzhan paused, then added, "I’m saying this without any personal emotions. It’s out of a producer’s professional integrity, to minimize losses for both sides."

"Unnecessary." Ji Qinghe frowned almost imperceptibly. "Endless Year has its own evaluation mechanisms. Withdrawing the investment now would be more loss than gain. If you’re really thinking from a producer’s perspective, have you considered what the crew would face if I actually withdrew the investment?"

Shen Qianzhan parted her lips slightly but remained silent.

She knew.

Once Endless Year withdrew its investment, the crew would accelerate toward collapse.

Given the current precarious situation of Time, no investor would inject funds in the short term. Even if the crew managed to recover eventually, the delays would cause the project to miss its optimal broadcast window.

Film and television projects have always balanced risk and reward. Once a single link in the chain breaks, the entire endeavor can fail. And everyone involved—whether producers, production companies, investors, or studios—would face immeasurable losses.

Seeing her silent, Ji Qinghe lowered his head to meet her gaze. "The situation isn’t as dire as you think."

Shen Qianzhan stirred the coffee again and said, "That’s because it hasn’t started deteriorating yet." The opposing side had planned meticulously and was adept at stirring public opinion; they wouldn’t simply end things hastily.

At least she hadn’t forgotten to talk back.

Ji Qinghe smiled silently, flicking her forehead lightly with his finger. "I’m more rational than you. Even if it’s to ensure your future livelihood, I’d keep some savings for us to enjoy our later years in peace."

Shen Qianzhan suddenly felt the gap between herself and Ji Qinghe.

Perhaps this was the love of adults?

Not blind, occasionally indulgent and immersed, yet always maintaining a moment of clarity.

He remained unhurried and unflustered, preserving his usual elegance and dignity. Even when crossing abysses or passing cliffs, he moved without panic, not even a speck of dust on the hem of his clothes.

He truly stood atop the peak, looking down upon the mortal world—both clear-minded and compassionate.Usually aloof from worldly affairs, descending to the mortal realm seemed only to save her.

Damn it.

Another day conquered by that dog of a man.

——

Influenced by Ji Qinghe, Shen Qianzhan’s mood began to brighten as well.

Approaching ten o’clock, as Shen Qianzhan changed clothes to head to the conference room for another meeting with the PR department, Qiao Xin beat her to it, wearing an expression that screamed “the end is here” and rubbing her tear-reddened eyes as she reported, “Thousand Lights’ PR department has collectively gone offline.”

Shen Qianzhan was puzzled.

Qiao Xin, furious and choked up, said between sobs, “I just called the PR manager, and they said it was on General Manager Su’s orders—that ‘Time’ should save itself, and they couldn’t help even if they wanted to.”

Shen Qianzhan sharply raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s exactly what they said?”

Too shocked to believe it, she even turned to Ji Qinghe for confirmation. It wasn’t until she heard the sound of Su Zan’s uncontrolled arguing from the poorly soundproofed room next door that she finally accepted this was indeed a new directive issued by the General Manager Su she had once served diligently, helping to expand her territory.

She stood still for a moment, then after a long pause, let out a self-mocking laugh.

She couldn’t quite understand it.

Wasn’t “Time” a Thousand Lights project?

What benefit did Su Lanyi gain by abandoning “Time”? Did she want it to fend for itself? Or was she forcing Shen Qianzhan to turn to Ji Qinghe for help?

Her hands and feet grew cold.

For a brief moment, she felt the helplessness and confusion of being abandoned.

She was accustomed to leveraging Thousand Lights’ resources. Withdrawing the PR department now was like clipping her wings, leaving her to wait for death on the spot.

Seeing her silent, Qiao Xin grew even more panicked. Her nose stung, and she nearly burst into tears right in front of her.

Qiao Xin quickly lowered her head, wiped her eyes, and suggested, “We still have the marketing accounts the company maintains. I’ll go process the video now and have the accounts release it.”

“And there’s Old Chen’s death certificate—we filed a case, all of this is evidence…”

“Wait a moment,” Shen Qianzhan interrupted her. “General Manager Su must be facing some kind of resistance.”

Old Chen’s case had already been documented within the company, so clarifying it shouldn’t be difficult.

The evidence she had was also archived in Thousand Lights’ legal department. The only reason Su Lanyi would abandon “Time” at this point was if Thousand Lights itself was facing some kind of pressure.

Still, the successive blows had left Shen Qianzhan genuinely exhausted. Standing in the empty room, she felt as if she were in a vast wilderness, with drafts seeping in from all sides. The howling wind slowly stripped away her body’s warmth, leaving her so cold her heart could barely beat.

After a long while, she finally said in a low voice, “All of you, go out for now. I need some quiet.”

——

After Shen Qianzhan stopped making public appearances, all the major and minor affairs of the production crew fell onto Su Zan’s shoulders.

He proceeded as usual to arrange for the crew to relocate back to Beijing. When the large trucks carrying the crew’s props and filming equipment drove out of the parking lot, reporters who had been lying in wait at the entrance swarmed in, completely blocking the passageway.

With the trucks halted and normal operations disrupted, the hotel attempted to mediate but to no avail. Su Zan insisted on calling the police.

Several others, including the life producers and on-site producers, held differing opinions.

Some believed calling the police would appear too aggressive and further harm the crew’s reputation. Others thought it could serve as a deterrent and indirectly address the incidents that had occurred in recent days.

Everyone was seething with frustration over the chaotic and deliberately distorted reports online. After criticizing Thousand Lights’ official inaction, some began to quietly blame Shen Qianzhan’s poor handling of the situation for triggering the crew’s current crisis.Just as everyone was heatedly discussing, a group led by Old Chen's family gathered at the hotel entrance, holding banners, displaying Old Chen's portrait, incense, candles, and paper money, turning the already chaotic scene into a murky mess.

At this point, forget calling the police—the film crew was like an isolated island, completely trapped inside the hotel.

This unexpected incident instantly plunged all crew members, who hadn’t taken the matter seriously, into a panic-stricken low. The public outrage online seemed even more intense than imagined, sweeping over everything like a tidal wave.

The next day.

Public opinion escalated further.

Online, in addition to the video and audio files released the previous day, the hottest content was footage from official media showing Old Chen’s family demanding justice outside the hotel and blocking the film crew’s trucks.

Netizens, swept up in the frenzy, cheered and rallied as if they were on the scene themselves.

Occasional calm comments like "I feel something’s off about this," "I’m waiting for a twist," "Isn’t this behavior illegal?" or "If they really want justice for the family, shouldn’t they go to the relevant authorities? Blocking the hotel entrance with incense and paper money feels like a show" were quickly drowned out in the tide of voices.

That afternoon, Thousand Lights received news that the film crew must halt all shooting activities and face investigation.

Su Lanyi, as the legal representative of Thousand Lights, was summoned for talks by the relevant authorities.

Under pressure.

Thousand Lights quickly issued a statement. Unlike the one previously discussed with Shen Qianzhan, this one fully aligned with the kind of public relations response netizens wanted to see. Besides pledging full cooperation with the investigation, it announced the suspension and investigation of Shen Qianzhan and several other crew leaders.

When Shen Qianzhan received the news of her suspension, she didn’t feel much about it—she wasn’t even surprised.

She glanced at the resignation letter sitting in her email drafts, closed her laptop, and went downstairs to find Mrs. Chen.

After Chen Yan’s incident, Mrs. Chen had been isolated by the crew. Apart from having meals delivered regularly, no one visited her.

The production coordinator had relayed Mrs. Chen’s requests to meet several times, but either Shen Qianzhan was busy, or later, as public opinion flared up, the entire crew found themselves in a passive position, forced to endure the criticism.

Over the past day and night, Shen Qianzhan hadn’t simply shut herself in her room doing nothing.

Su Zan had gone to the public security bureau to inquire about the progress of Chen Yan’s case, but the police had repeatedly declined, citing procedural delays.

Chen Yan’s intentional assault charge was a foregone conclusion—the injury assessment and video evidence provided by Shen Qianzhan could all serve as proof. Procedurally, official processes indeed took three to five working days, so it wasn’t a case of the police deliberately stalling.

Shen Qianzhan spent some time researching similar cases and consulted Endless Year’s lawyers about the conditions for filing a lawsuit. Once she had a clear understanding, she relaxed a bit and went to see Mrs. Chen.

Originally, Mrs. Chen should have taken Old Chen’s remains back to their hometown yesterday.

—

Mrs. Chen looked much more haggard than when Shen Qianzhan first met her.

Dark circles were evident under her eyes, her gaze was hollow, and when she looked at Shen Qianzhan, there was a mix of anxious hesitation and timidity.

Shen Qianzhan pulled up a chair and sat down, unscrewed a bottle of mineral water on the table, took a sip, and explained the current situation to Mrs. Chen.

After finishing, she shifted her tone and said, "It’s not right for everyone to be trapped like this. I’ll go out later to meet with the reporters and clarify the situation. Anyway, I’ve been suspended, and the next step will probably be dismissal.""At the latest tomorrow, I should return to Beijing to undergo investigation. The crew members can leave as well. As for you, I've arranged for Xiao Chen to escort you and Old Chen back to your hometown. The insurance compensation has been approved and will be deposited into your account within five to seven business days. Now, can you tell me what you know?"

Having been left in the cold for several days, Mrs. Chen's mind had cleared. She didn't hide anything and explained everything in detail: "My mother-in-law said someone came to our home—an old colleague of Old Chen's. After hearing about Old Chen's situation, he came to visit them and told them that in such cases, both the company and the producer are responsible and should provide compensation."

"When I heard that you only mentioned insurance compensation and didn't say anything about the company, my mother-in-law said that with Old Chen gone, the family had lost its pillar, and the children are still young. She thought the crew might be taking advantage of you as a woman unfamiliar with the place, deliberately hiding the truth. I didn't know what to do, and when my mother-in-law asked my brother-in-law to come and negotiate compensation, I thought about it and agreed. I really didn't know they were coming to cause trouble."

Shen Qianzhan smiled faintly and said, "I didn't mention it."

"You know the cause of Old Chen's death—the company bears no responsibility. That night, Supervisor Su and I discussed it and decided to apply for a condolence payment from the company on your behalf. We planned to transfer it to you in the children's name after Old Chen's funeral arrangements were settled and your family had stabilized." She didn't expose Mrs. Chen's attempt to gloss over her own greed.

When Mrs. Chen agreed to her mother-in-law's suggestion and had her brother-in-law come to the crew to demand compensation, knowing full well the company had no obligation to pay, she wasn't as genuinely kind and reasonable as Shen Qianzhan had imagined. Whether it was out of concern for the children's future or other reasons, it no longer mattered to Shen Qianzhan.

"I will be resigning from the company, and the crew is facing disbandment. I won't be able to apply for that condolence payment on your behalf anymore. If you still want the money, you can bring it up with Supervisor Su. I've already spoken to him on your behalf—he won't make things difficult for you—but whether the company is willing to provide it, I can't say." Shen Qianzhan's tone was calm, as if she were discussing something entirely unrelated to herself from start to finish.

"The day Old Chen passed away, I received a call from my mother saying my father had gone missing at sea. Whether out of professional responsibility or moral obligation, I chose to stay with the crew." Her gaze toward Mrs. Chen couldn't hide her disappointment. "I deeply understand what it feels like to lose a family member, and I'm grateful my father was eventually found. So, I empathize with your grief over losing Old Chen, and I can understand why you couldn't trust me. But what's done is done, and there's no point in saying more. I've already arranged everything. Tomorrow, I won't be seeing Old Chen off on his final journey."

Shen Qianzhan had originally thought she was approaching Mrs. Chen with the mindset of leaving room for future reconciliation. But only when she saw tears welling in Mrs. Chen's eyes, as if regretting her actions, did she realize she was merely finding a reason to confide in someone, to have one more person witness the grievances and dissatisfaction she had buried deep within.

The truth is not as you see it, yet the injustice lies buried underground, with no one willing to dig it up and understand. It will gradually grow old, aging with time until it no longer matters.

No one will remember the incident they once passionately condemned—except for the deeply wounded parties involved.

—

After returning, Shen Qianzhan sent her resignation letter from her email to Su Lanyi.Then, she logged into her Weibo account, which she only bothered to update during promotional periods based on her mood, and posted a message. The account was verified as "Producer at Thousand Lights Film and Television."

Due to differences in company philosophy, I have resigned from Thousand Lights.

Instantly, countless comments flooded in—

"Why aren’t you addressing the accidental death of the crew member and the production team’s malicious cover-up to hush things up?"

"Why are you avoiding a response? Is it because you’re guilty?"

"What kind of murderous production team is this? I’ve never heard or seen anything like it."

"I’m boycotting all the TV dramas you’ve produced. I feel sick now for ever having watched them."

"Producers like you, blinded by profit and without any bottom line, are a disgrace to the industry."

"You have a life on your conscience. How can you still sleep at night?"

"No one cares whether you’ve resigned or not. What we want is the truth."

Shen Qianzhan didn’t read any more comments. She closed the webpage and logged out of Weibo.

She didn’t care whether anyone understood. This was her farewell.

To Thousand Lights, to Su Lanyi, and to her former self.