Chapter Four
Shen Qianzhan’s original intention was to express that her understanding of Xi’an was not deep. Although she had feelings for it, compared to Ji Qinghe, whose ancestral home was in Xi’an, she was merely a fleeting visitor to this city, capable of offering only dew-like admiration that thrives toward the sun.
Under normal circumstances.
Shen Qianzhan’s skill in phrasing and composition was almost at the level of a master in the language arts department, especially among a crowd where people said things like, “Let’s have a drink, all the feelings are in the wine,” or “I’ll finish this first; the fiercer the wine, the truer my sincerity.”
If she wanted elegant context, she could deliver a string of metaphors without repeating a single word, praising everything from the changing seasons to the end of time. If she wanted profound meaning and lofty context, she could immediately recite the entire five-thousand-year treasury of classical Chinese poetry from memory. Even if she wanted something minimalist and luxurious, she could praise everything from Chanel to Louis Vuitton.
Her knowledge reserves and cultural appreciation level could meet the diverse needs of various industries and age groups, earning her the title of a Chinese literature harvester.
Compared to “tourist affection” or “passerby affection,” the precise use of “dew-like affection” felt utterly natural, with every word hitting the mark.
But the problem also lay in that mark…
She was so carried away that she completely overlooked the fact that the very person with whom she had shared this “dew-like affection” was sitting right across the table.
Fortunately, Shen Qianzhan’s on-the-spot adaptability and psychological resilience were as solid as a rock and as steady as Mount Tai.
After a brief lapse in emotional control, she naturally tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, raised her glass, and toasted Ji Qinghe from afar: “Compared to Mr. Ji, my understanding of Xi’an is indeed too shallow. Even if I give it my all, I am nothing more than the most inconspicuous drop of dew in the history of this ancient capital of sixteen dynasties.”
Ji Qinghe looked at her for a moment and suddenly smiled.
He raised his hand to loosen his tie, leaned back in his chair, and adopted a more relaxed posture. “Let’s not talk about the history of Xi’an’s thirteen dynasties today.”
“Let’s talk about Producer Shen’s dew-like affection.”
Shen Qianzhan: “…”
So he hadn’t listened to a single word of her desperate attempt to save face and insisted on making a fuss?
This dog of a man was truly petty.
“Speaking of which, I really did scout Xi’an. In the initial proposal, the protagonist was born in the 1980s, right in the midst of rapid development, caught between the old and new eras. Unfortunately, Xi’an didn’t have particularly suitable filming locations or cost-effective studio areas. Building sets ourselves would easily exceed the budget.” Shen Qianzhan pretended to casually change the topic, her tone tinged with regret. “Now, the project’s creative team is leaning toward filming in Beijing and is revising the character’s background.”
Unfortunately, though her move was clever, Ji Qinghe wasn’t buying it. “Producer Shen says there are no suitable filming locations?”
He didn’t pick up his wine glass. Instead, his gaze fell on a glass of plain water beside him. He tapped his fingers on the table, as if contemplating whether to settle for a sip of the now-cool water.
Shen Qianzhan felt a slight twitch at her temple and a faint headache coming on.
Knowing full well that Ji Qinghe was publicly setting a trap for her, she couldn’t think of a perfect way out at the moment. She could only brace herself and hum in agreement, waiting for him to continue.
Ji Qinghe finally picked up the glass and took a sip of water, asking her unhurriedly, “Is Qinghe Third Alley also unsuitable, hmm?”"The semi-open ancient garden area offers a private environment with verifiable history. It's Xi'an's most renowned internet-famous attraction, a holy land for romantic encounters." He spoke slowly, as if afraid Shen Qianzhan might not hear clearly, enunciating each word with particular precision: "Producer Shen, surely you've been there before?"
The smile instantly vanished from Shen Qianzhan's face.
Memories related to Qinghe Three Lanes almost leaped onto paper in that moment.
For an instant, she particularly wanted to return to that bed and kick this bastard off it, letting him experience what it means for June's "spring" breeze to be like scissors—specifically cutting down towering pillars.
This was all just putting on a show, performing professional fake smiles to see who was most dedicated. When she was happy, her smiles held some genuine feeling; when unhappy, she couldn't even be bothered to pretend, directly dropping her expression.
"I've been there." She set down her wine glass, her voice cool and clear: "Since Mr. Ji seems quite interested in our project, how about after this gathering ends, you leave me a work email or contact method? I'll send you a copy of the proposal."
Her displeasure was obvious, catching everyone in the room who had been smiling and listening to their "pleasant conversation" somewhat off guard.
Su Zan was even more bewildered. Where had his versatile, socially adept Zhan-jie gone? Who was this woman who seemed ready to stab knives into Mr. Ji?!
Did they not want the investment anymore? Did they not want the project to proceed? Did they not want their bonuses?
He forced a dry laugh, subtly tugging at Shen Qianzhan's sleeve, gritting his teeth to whisper: "Zhan-jie, do you want to step out to the restroom to cool off?"
Shen Qianzhan felt she was quite calm.
From the moment Ji Qinghe appeared, she had secretly calculated that this collaboration was likely doomed.
Throughout her years in the industry, aside from nurturing her own artists to exchange for collaborative resources, she had never involved personal feelings in any project. She only hoped Ji Qinghe, with his aloof pride, would disdain to acknowledge her. After tonight's gathering ended, they would go their separate ways, pretending they had never met again.
How much sincerity could there be in a one-night stand?
If she hadn't been captivated by his looks, momentarily bewitched, she wouldn't have taken such a massive fall.
In this circle, maintaining a clean reputation was far too difficult.
The reputation Shen Qianzhan had painstakingly built over years of diligent work—she had no desire to see it destroyed overnight by gossip with an investor.
So the best approach—no collaboration, no crossing boundaries, no repeating past mistakes.
—
The evening passed without incident.
As the dinner approached its end, Shen Qianzhan excused herself to the restroom, taking the opportunity to settle the bill.
Upon returning, she unsurprisingly saw Ai Yi waiting by the sinks, touching up her lipstick while waiting for her.
Ai Yi: "Such a fiery temper tonight?"
Shen Qianzhan turned on the faucet, hastily rinsing the back of her hands, not responding.
Ai Yi glanced at her through the mirror, recapped her lipstick, and returned it to her small purse: "You can't possibly fail to see that Jiang Yecheng intends to secure a collaboration with Mr. Ji, can you?"
"Securing investment isn't my responsibility, so why is President Jiang concerned?" Shen Qianzhan turned, pulling a paper towel to dry her hands, nonchalantly smoothing stray strands of hair from her forehead.
Ai Yi chuckled softly, shaking her head: "Qianzhan, Boxuan signed the contract with Thousand Lights. As the client, he has the right to have Thousand Lights replace the producer.""Moreover, I heard that in order to secure this tribute drama, you accepted Boxuan's predatory terms." She leaned against the wall, her smile neither warm nor cold, appearing aloof from worldly affairs yet inexplicably worrying over matters far beyond her concern. "I won’t elaborate on how important this drama is to the platform, but let me give you a heads-up: if you offend someone and get replaced, I can’t make a breach-of-contract decision for your sake."
Shen Qianzhan smoothed the last stray strand of hair into place. Looking at her radiant, stunning reflection in the mirror, her mood finally improved considerably.
Su Zan had always assumed she liked Jichun Erwan because of the hotel’s facial recognition credit service, but that was only one reason. There was another she couldn’t openly admit—just look at this mirror, as if it had its own beauty filter, how delightful.
She tilted her head slightly, lowering her gaze, watching as her already small, palm-sized face seemed to shrink even further from this angle, finally satisfied. "Not bad."
Shen Qianzhan’s words were light and airy, with no clear point of reference. Ai Yi couldn’t immediately tell whether this "not bad" referred to herself or was a response to her.
"No need for you to breach any contract," Shen Qianzhan replied with a thin, insincere smile, not even bothering to beat around the bush. "There’s no true sincerity in the world of interests. Our superficial friendship can only thrive on mutual benefit; it can’t withstand any real test."
She turned to leave, the door halfway open, then remembered something and turned back to add, "As for replacing the producer, don’t worry. I won’t step aside—let’s see who dares to replace me."
—
That’s what she said, but once back in the private room, Shen Qianzhan still straightened her attitude, mustering the enthusiasm befitting a client and staying until the gathering ended.
The atmosphere tonight was poor, which directly led to no one drinking excessively.
When it was time to disperse, the mood remained cool and rational.
Although the objective conditions weren’t ideal for showcasing her skills, Shen Qianzhan was still adept at seizing opportunities, sparing no effort to demonstrate her virtues as a considerate and reliable ally.
She had Su Zan arrange a driver to wait at the hotel entrance for Jiang Yecheng in advance, lest Mr. Jiang catch a chill from the wind after drinking.
This thoughtful gesture eased Jiang Yecheng’s grim expression, which had lasted all evening. He took the opportunity to express his eagerness to collaborate with Endless Year, urging her to stay in closer contact with Ji Qinghe offline.
Shen Qianzhan agreed readily, then turned to arrange things for Ai Yi.
Ai Yi’s company was nearby, and she had driven herself there. Shen Qianzhan called a designated driver for her.
After arranging for everyone, she finally seemed to remember she had neglected Ji Qinghe. Wearing an apologetic expression but with little sincerity in her tone, she asked, "Do you have a hotel booked in Beijing, Mr. Ji?"
Ji Qinghe had been observing Shen Qianzhan’s deliberate neglect from start to finish. Hearing her question, he met her gaze and replied, "I recently settled in Beijing." As he spoke, he lightly tapped his fingertips on the table.
His fingers were long and strong, with sharp, clear lines. To a seasoned hand enthusiast, they were as perfect as a flawless work of art, seemingly designed for admiration.
Shen Qianzhan glanced at them once, then again, and that suffocating feeling of being gripped by the nape returned.
It was as if he wasn’t just tapping the table out of boredom but was deliberately keeping tabs on her.
Shen Qianzhan struggled to maintain her composure. "Shall I call a driver for you?"
Ji Qinghe looked up, his expression clearly dissatisfied.
Shen Qianzhan tried again. "Then I’ll have Su Zan take you?"
Ji Qinghe still didn’t respond, his face plainly conveying: Who is Su Zan?Shen Qianzhan really wanted to pretend she didn't understand, but her intelligence wouldn't allow it.
She hesitated, the words "If you're not in a hurry, I'll see you off later" stuck in her throat, unable to come out.
Ji Qinghe had no intention of making Shen Qianzhan lose face in front of her partners. Maintaining his grace, he said meaningfully, "No hurry, I'll sober up a bit."
Jiang Yecheng and Ai Yi, who had just shifted in their seats preparing to leave, exchanged a glance, seeing the same question in each other's eyes: Did he drink tonight?
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