Chapter Sixty-One
When Qiao Xin found him, Su Zan was being toasted in turn by the burly photographers from the camera crew. His face was flushed, his ears ringing, and he couldn’t refuse. The moment he saw Qiao Xin pushing through the crowd toward him, it was like seeing a bodhisattva descending to save all beings—he nearly wept with gratitude.
He pushed away the wine glass that had been thrust under his nose and pointed at Qiao Xin. “The envoy from Sister Zhan is here, probably has something for me. Let’s drink later, we’ll drink later.”
The crowd booed, but they didn’t want to actually cause trouble. After a few half-hearted attempts to keep him, they politely let him go.
Su Zan, feeling as if he’d narrowly escaped disaster, clutched his chest with one hand and a wine bottle with the other, leaning weakly on Qiao Xin as they retreated to a corner. “If you’d come any later, my reputation as the Thousand-Cup Master would have been utterly destroyed by these grandpas.”
Qiao Xin turned to face Su Zan, seeing him swaying unsteadily, and patted his cheek. “Sober up first, I need to talk to you.” Her patting triggered a drunken hiccup.
Su Zan quickly covered his mouth, his eyes staring blankly into space for a moment. When he finally snapped back to reality, the alcohol haze cleared, and he straightened his back.
“I’m sober, go ahead.”
“Sister Zhan is completely drunk, talking nonsense. She won’t even drink the hangover soup, and now she’s clinging to Mr. Ji and won’t let go. Mr. Ji sent me to find you, saying we should take the group photo so he can take Sister Zhan upstairs to sober up.”
Su Zan was shocked. “She’s drunk?”
He knew exactly how Shen Qianzhan behaved when drunk. It felt like a heavy blow to the head, and even his drunkenness faded. “I told her she was drinking too fast, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Afraid of wasting time, Qiao Xin pinched him when she saw him still complaining. “With everyone toasting her one after another, she didn’t have time to drink slowly. Here’s the plan: I’ll gather Teacher Fu and Song Yan to stand on stage as anchors. You hurry up too.”
Su Zan glanced at the crowded venue and felt a wave of despair.
Gathering people wasn’t the hardest part—arranging the group photo formation was. A group photo with hundreds of people was challenging even when everyone was sober, let alone now when most were drunk and in high spirits.
—
Qiao Xin went back and had someone pass a microphone to Su Zan. With Fu Xi and Song Yan standing as anchors, the group quickly arranged themselves from tallest to shortest.
Shen Qianzhan couldn’t stand steadily, so she sat on the edge of the stage at the center. Whoever came near her, she’d hug their leg.
She first hugged Shao Chouxi’s and Jiang Juanshan’s legs, then, unsatisfied, she grabbed one leg with each hand and clung to Ji Qinghe, refusing to let go.
Qiao Xin, standing below, could hardly bear to watch.
While busy coordinating positions and rescuing one leg after another, she watched Ji Qinghe’s expression grow darker and darker, almost as black as a pot’s bottom. Finally, the chaotic, disorderly group photo was taken.
Qiao Xin breathed a sigh of relief. She thanked heaven and earth, then thanked the ancestors of both the Qiao and Shen families. After offering a few explanations, she helped Shen Qianzhan up and prepared to leave.
The crew knew how to have fun but also understood boundaries. Seeing Shen Qianzhan completely drunk, they offered their concern and sympathy, watching quietly as Qiao Xin helped her out of the banquet hall.
Only after they had walked away did the noisy venue suddenly fall silent. Someone asked, “Who’s that handsome guy next to Sister Zhan? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”
The makeup team glanced around and chimed in, “Is he an actor?”
The costume team denied it. “No, we haven’t taken his measurements…”The lighting crew remarked, "Seems like they're on good terms with our producer. Could it be a friend visiting the set?"
The props team chimed in, "Looks like you weren't paying attention during the briefing. When Su the supervisor introduced him, she mentioned he was a specially appointed consultant. Out of the twenty people at the main table, he's the most mysterious."
"Specially appointed consultant?" The sound crew stroked their chin, gazing toward the now-empty entrance of the flower hall, and mused, "That must be the clock restorer Su mentioned earlier. I heard he restores imperial clocks and is a disciple of the master clockmaker, Old Mr. Ji. He’s quite a figure."
The room fell silent for a few seconds, followed by a wave of sighs and exclamations.
After a long pause, someone else asked, "Zhan-jie left drunk, so why did he follow her out…"
"Xin-jie probably couldn’t support her alone, so he’s helping."
"...Why does this remind me of Zhan-jie’s past romantic escapades, like 'man-eater' or 'raising a younger lover'... Wait, why are you all looking at me like that? When a handsome man and a beautiful woman are together, it’s a waste not to imagine some romantic sparks flying."
Everyone turned to stare, silently condemning with their eyes: "You’re filthy."
"You’re filthy."
"You’re filthy."
"..."
——
As soon as they stepped out of the flower hall and the gazes from behind disappeared, Ji Qinghe bent down and scooped Shen Qianzhan into his arms.
The sudden weightlessness made Shen Qianzhan’s heart leap. Frowning, she kicked her legs, struggling to get down. "I’m afraid of heights. How many floors is this? If I fall, I’ll be torn to pieces..."
Shen Qianzhan was light, thin as a sheet of paper. Even as she kicked and threatened to "jump," she was like a carp out of water, flailing helplessly.
Unable to free his hands, Ji Qinghe scolded in a low voice, "Behave."
She opened her eyes, bright and charming, squinting slightly. "You’re scolding me." With that, the matter was settled. Whether he had scolded her or not no longer mattered. She stopped fussing and "jumping," and instead, her hands, which had been loosely draped over his shoulders, wrapped around his neck as she leaned in and bit him.
Fortunately, Shen Qianzhan was barely conscious, her mind and body uncoordinated. When she clamped onto his earlobe, it was as if she’d found a piece of candy—initially fierce, teeth bared, but once she caught the familiar scent of cold fragrance from his skin, she paused and let go.
Qiao Xin, watching from the side, couldn’t help but cover her ears. Realizing this might be inappropriate, she awkwardly explained, "Mr. Ji, please bear with her. Zhan-jie loses her wits every time she gets drunk..."
"Loses her wits?" Ji Qinghe glanced coldly at Shen Qianzhan and snorted softly.
To him, it didn’t look like she’d lost her wits—more like her lustful instincts had taken over. It was a good thing she was born a woman; otherwise, she’d be drowning in accusations of being a "scumbag."
Qiao Xin didn’t dare respond, afraid Ji Qinghe might suddenly lose his temper, drop Shen Qianzhan, and walk away. With her small frame, she’d never be able to handle Shen Qianzhan on her own.
There was a shortcut from the flower hall corridor leading straight to the hotel lobby.
Qiao Xin hadn’t known about it, but as she followed Ji Qinghe through the hallway, she was surprised to spot the hotel lobby’s iconic crystal chandelier in the distance. "Mr. Ji, you’re quite familiar with the hotel’s layout?"
She’d meant to flatter the big boss, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how inappropriate they sounded. Yet, spoken words were like spilled water—impossible to take back. She bit her tongue silently, filled with regret.
Being a master of flattery wasn’t for everyone... Only her Zhan-jie could pull it off flawlessly.
Fortunately, Ji Qinghe didn’t take it to heart. He shot her a glance and ignored her.As they approached the hotel lobby just beyond the stone pillars, the murmur of voices from the front hall had yet to reach their ears when Qiao Xin’s sharp eyes already caught sight of something unusual.
She halted abruptly, hurriedly calling out to Ji Qinghe, “Mr. Ji.”
“There are reporters in the lobby. With Sister Zhan in this state, we can’t go out.”
She peeked out, glancing around twice to confirm that the person holding a camera hadn’t noticed them yet, then retreated a few steps to hide behind the stone pillar. “When Teacher Fu came to Wuxi a couple of days ago, they were staking out the hotel entrance. I saw them then. Today, they’re probably here to photograph Teacher Fu and Song Yan… I should also go back to the Flower Hall to warn everyone to be careful.”
Upon hearing this, Ji Qinghe glanced around.
A few steps behind him was a restroom, its entrance marked by an “Under Maintenance” sign, giving it a rather desolate appearance.
Ten meters away, there was an elevator lobby, likely a guest elevator for patrons heading to the restaurant.
In just a few seconds, he had already made a decision and instructed, “Use my name to call the lobby manager. Have him come find me here.” He tilted his chin slightly, gesturing toward the nearby restroom. “Once Qianzhan leaves, the opening banquet will wrap up soon. Go back to the Flower Hall to deliver the message. I’ll take her to a guest room to sober up.”
Qiao Xin was taken aback. She glanced at the secluded restroom, then at Ji Qinghe, momentarily unable to decide. “This…” Isn’t this a bit inappropriate?
“Sister Zhan is difficult to handle when she’s drunk,” Qiao Xin said tactfully. “I’m afraid you might not be able to manage.”
Seeing that she couldn’t persuade Ji Qinghe, she cleared her throat and added a stronger argument, “Mr. Ji, I’m not doubting your character. It’s just that you really don’t know—when Sister Zhan is drunk, she’s completely different from the image she usually projects. You can’t even imagine what she might do next.”
“Last time, when Director Shao and Producer Jian were there, Sister Zhan got drunk. On the way back, she was talking nonsense in her sleep, expressing great admiration for you. I’m afraid that if she’s drunk, she won’t know what she’s doing and might end up offending you.”
Qiao Xin had originally intended to say “assault,” but fearing the accusation might be too severe and that Shen Qianzhan would settle scores with her once she sobered up tomorrow, she reluctantly softened the wording.
Unexpectedly, after hearing this, Ji Qinghe showed not the slightest hint of disdain. Instead, his brow relaxed, and he smiled. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to clean up after her. You can rest assured with me.”
Not wanting to say more, Ji Qinghe raised an eyebrow, signaling for her to follow his instructions, then turned and carried Shen Qianzhan into the restroom to take cover.
Qiao Xin opened her mouth but couldn’t utter a word, only able to watch helplessly as Ji Qinghe walked away.
Wait…
Why didn’t she understand a single word Mr. Ji had said?
Anxiously, she glanced at the now-closed wooden door, then back at the troublesome reporters in the lobby. Finally, she stamped her foot and hurried off to fetch help.
—
Restroom.
Inside, a black obsidian marble countertop with scattered star-like patterns greeted them, likely intended for ladies to touch up their makeup. On either side of the stone wall were vanity mirrors.
Ji Qinghe set Shen Qianzhan down, leaning her against the stone wall.
As soon as he released his hold, she seemed to lose all support, collapsing against his chest.
Shen Qianzhan was clearly displeased with his hands-off attitude. Clutching his collar, she looked up at him indignantly and said, “You have to hold me. If you let go, I’ll drift away like a kite.”
Ji Qinghe retorted, “When aren’t you drifting?”
Shen Qianzhan replied without hesitation, “I don’t drift when there’s no strong wind.”Ji Qinghe couldn't help but laugh. With one hand, he cupped her chin, lifting her face that had buried itself again, examining her carefully back and forth. "Someone like you is rare."
Shen Qianzhan was dizzy and disoriented, with only her mouth still combat-ready. Hearing this, she retorted sharply, "What do you mean, someone like me?" Her tone was fierce, as if she were ready to claw at him if he dared say a single bad word about her.
"Drunk like this, yet still able to speak so clearly." He lowered his head to look into her eyes.
Her eyes were moist, like the lingering dew in a forest clearing after the morning mist had lifted—clear and transparent.
He was captivated, his Adam's apple bobbing lightly, unable to restrain his emotions. He wanted to take advantage of the situation but felt it wouldn't be gentlemanly. After a moment's thought, he said, "That plan of yours wasn't very smart. Not as good as what Su Zan taught you—neither timely nor tactful."
Shen Qianzhan grabbed his collar again. "Don't talk bad about me."
Ji Qinghe smiled. "When did I ever talk bad about you?" Out of all his words, she only focused on the key points.
Shen Qianzhan didn't answer. She found it tiring to keep her head tilted back, so she rested her forehead against his chin and closed her eyes, ready to fall asleep.
Ji Qinghe naturally wouldn't let her sleep now. The hand cupping her chin lifted, forcing her head up. He placed his palm behind her neck, supporting her head, and asked, "I heard that last time you got drunk, you talked in your sleep and expressed great admiration for me?"
"Did I?" Shen Qianzhan was honest to a fault. "I just craved your body."
Ji Qinghe raised an eyebrow. "How did you crave it?"
"In a dream."
Ji Qinghe pinched the back of her neck, coaxing her. "How did you crave it in the dream?"
Shen Qianzhan tried hard to recall, but it had been too long, and she had almost forgotten. Hesitantly, her hand reached toward his waist, then slid along his waistline to hook onto his belt.
At this point, she looked up, her eyes sparkling with mischief and a sly smile. "Ask me again, and I'll take off your pants."
Ji Qinghe fell silent.
His gaze drifted past Shen Qianzhan to the mirror behind her.
From the nape of her neck to her earlobes, a flush of crimson spread like delicate, shy flowers—fragile yet determined to bloom.
As if a certain boundary had suddenly been breached, his desire stirred, and his voice grew lower and lower. "Even if you don't ask, you can still take them off."
—
When Qiao Xin returned to the flower hall, she happened to catch Fu Xi and Song Yan bidding their farewells.
Song Yan was heading back to the "Spring River" set to prepare for filming, while Fu Xi was returning to the hotel to memorize his script.
Fortunately, she arrived just in time to inform them that reporters were waiting in the hotel lobby. The two left the hotel separately, staggering their timing and routes.
With the crew's official start the next day, everyone knew to keep their revelry in check.
After Shen Qianzhan left the gathering, Fu Xi, Song Yan, and a number of actors and directors gradually departed as well. As the atmosphere cooled, groups of people began leaving, some carrying alcohol, others bringing snacks, all heading back to the hotel by car.
Worried about Shen Qianzhan, Qiao Xin waited until most people had left before dragging Su Zan to the guest room to check on her.
Su Zan wasn't foolish. When Ji Qinghe had last visited Wuxi, he had sensed something brewing between the two. With such a perfect opportunity today, he had no intention of ruining the mood and earning someone's resentment.
"Mr. Ji has already met Qianzhan's parents—what's there to worry about?" Su Zan spoke earnestly. "You know that ruining someone's relationship is asking for divine retribution, right? If Qianzhan wasn't willing, even ten Ji Qinghes couldn't force her. Besides, Mr. Ji isn't the kind of person to take advantage of others." Otherwise, with the advice he had given, Ji Qinghe would have already had her in bed.Why go through such a roundabout, winding path?
Qiao Xin hesitated, "But..."
"Enough with the 'buts'," Su Zan hooked an arm around Qiao Xin's neck, pulling her under his armpit as he whispered, "You know about that time Zhan-jie came to Wuxi on a business trip, right?"
Qiao Xin nodded.
"We didn’t realize the situation was so urgent when we arrived. The very next day after we got to the set, the water and electricity were cut off. Do you know who brought the supplies that Producer Xiao praised to the skies?"
Qiao Xin shook her head.
"It was Mr. Ji." Su Zan flicked her forehead with his finger, exasperated. "When will you ever be half as smart as me?"
Qiao Xin asked, "So we’re just leaving Zhan-jie alone?"
Su Zan replied, "Isn’t someone already taking care of her? Taking care of her quite comfortably and obediently, I might add."
Qiao Xin thought to herself: Why does that sound... so inappropriate?
—
At the same time.
Ji Qinghe carried Shen Qianzhan into the reserved executive suite on the top floor.
After entering the room, the hotel manager left a meal cart and quietly closed the door behind him.
Without pausing, Ji Qinghe carried Shen Qianzhan into the bedroom.
The bedroom was lined with motion-sensor lights. The moment he stepped inside, soft lights flickered on, tracing the edges of the bed.
He placed Shen Qianzhan on the bed, leaning over to remove her high heels. As his fingers slipped through the buckle and wrapped around her ankle, she instinctively flinched, half-asleep and half-awake, opening her eyes to look at him.
After a moment of recognition, she realized who it was. She sat up halfway, staring at him without blinking.
Ji Qinghe remained unfazed, holding the heel to slip off her shoe before moving to unbuckle the other.
The bedroom was dimly lit, with only two rows of sensor lights.
Shen Qianzhan sat quietly, neither fussing nor resisting, letting Ji Qinghe remove her shoes.
Once both shoes were off and placed at the foot of the bed, she lifted her gaze, the curve of her eyes like half-lowered phoenix tails, enchanting and alluring.
Ji Qinghe held her ankle, lowering his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of her foot. "Awake or drunk?"
That touch was almost deadly. A string within her was plucked by his kiss, sending her world tumbling, her heart softening, tingling and itching.
She withdrew her foot, kneeling before him.
The lingering traces of her pounding heart remained. She wanted him desperately, thirsted for him desperately. The flirtatious nature buried deep within her stirred, ready to break free.
She reached for his ear, giving it a gentle pinch, as if caressing a fine piece of jade, unable to let go. "I was awake before."
Shen Qianzhan leaned closer, like a small animal, lowering her head to nuzzle against his neck. "Now, I’m just starting to feel drunk."
Her updo had already loosened halfway during the journey. With her head lowered, her long hair cascaded down, soft strands brushing against the hollow of his neck, like a feather tickling his heart, stirring a dry, restless heat.
Ji Qinghe pinched the slender nape of her neck, now exposed by her loose hair. His throat tightened slightly, his voice low and husky. "There’s sobering medicine."
"Don’t want it," she murmured, her nose brushing against his bobbing Adam’s apple. "It tastes weird."
"Then sleep for a while. I’ll take you back to the set when you wake up."
"Don’t want to sleep."
Ji Qinghe paused.
He grasped Shen Qianzhan’s hand, turning to look at her intently for a few seconds. "Since you don’t want either, let’s do something else."
He must have smiled, the corner of his lips lifting ever so slightly. Before she could get a clear look, he had already removed his glasses and leaned down to kiss her.
Then, Ji Qinghe didn’t even give her a moment to catch her breath, pressing her down into the sheets.A wave of his light, cool fragrance washed over her, overpowering the scent of alcohol on her. It was like a cluster of cold bamboo, crisp and pleasant.
This fragrance gradually overlapped with the faint scent that often lingered in her dreams. The top notes were as light as air, while the base notes built up slowly, like a hidden ** at the summit of Mount Wu. Accumulating to a certain point, a torrential downpour poured down, drenching her completely.
Trapped in these mountains, her breathing grew increasingly labored, and her already dizzy head spun even more.
In the midst of her confusion, as the storm briefly subsided, he loosened his grip slightly. His thumb brushed over her lips, which had been kissed until they were lush and vibrant. His voice was low and hoarse, as if holding back, yet also as if entranced. The deep tone faded before it could fully form, swallowed by their lips: "Shen Qianzhan, it’s not too late to stop now."
Why stop?
She knew she wanted this desperately too.
She opened her eyes.
Under the soft light, his features were deep and profound, like a cliff beneath her feet, waiting for her to step into the void and sink together.
She reached out, her fingers tracing from his jaw to the corner of his eye. With a point of support, she found something to cling to. As she leaned closer, the overlapping shadows finally settled into the person before her.
"I want to."
As soon as the words left her lips, he pressed forward again.
Shen Qianzhan parted her lips, welcoming his kiss—a kiss that, after several moments of restraint, had broken free from its inhibitions and spiraled slightly out of control.
The downpour engulfed her, fierce as the blazing sun.
She thought of Xi’an in June, when her heart had raced and she’d been captivated by his looks.
That night of recklessness had become her nightly fantasy, haunting her dreams and thoughts.
Her earlobes grew damp, and her neck was covered in delicate kisses.
Ji Qinghe particularly enjoyed the sight of her struggling in desperation, teasing her, watching her whimper, watching her efforts prove futile.
Shen Qianzhan was pushed to the brink, her nose tingling, her eyes aching so much she could barely keep them open. Hazy, as if veiled by a layer of mist, his features gradually blurred into a dark shadow, then shattered into fragments.
She didn’t realize she was crying, her lips weighed down, drooping involuntarily, unable to straighten no matter how hard she tried.
Ji Qinghe found himself torn between laughter and tears, his heart softening at the touch of her scalding tears. He bit her lip gently and whispered, "Why are you crying?"
Shen Qianzhan was too embarrassed to answer, so she bit him back. But she didn’t dare bite too hard, afraid he’d hold a grudge and retaliate, so she let go quickly.
Finally satisfied, he claimed her bit by bit. As he wiped the tear stains from her face with his thumb, he asked softly, "When you wake up tomorrow, will you admit to this?"
He neither advanced nor retreated, forcing her to answer.
Shen Qianzhan felt utterly wronged: "Yes."
Ji Qinghe asked again, "Will you take responsibility?"
Shen Qianzhan shook her head: "No."
Ji Qinghe chuckled, holding her waist as he lowered his head to kiss her face and the tip of her nose. "Let me ask again, will you take responsibility?"
This time, Shen Qianzhan truly cried: "I won’t."
Her sobs came in broken waves, her eyes soaked, looking especially pitiful.
His heart softened completely, and he turned to bite her ear.
After the bite, as punishment, he stopped pressing her and claimed her entirely.
—
It wasn’t until late into the night that the rain finally subsided.
Ji Qinghe carried her to bathe. She had no strength left, lying limp in his arms, letting him do as he pleased.
By the time they returned to bed, a quarter of an hour had passed. She was dazed, exhausted, and only wanted to sleep. The moment she closed her eyes, her foggy mind and weary body found relief at last.
She curled her legs and nestled against the side of the bed, hovering between sleep and wakefulness when a spoon was brought to her lips. Her chin was gently pried open, and warm broth was poured into her mouth.
Surprisingly, the broth was warm, mixed with honey, sweet and soothing as it slid down her throat.Shen Qianzhan tasted the sweetness and obediently opened her mouth, compliantly drinking the entire bowl of hangover soup in one go.
As dawn approached, Shen Qianzhan woke up once more in a half-dreaming, half-awake state, and upon waking, she began to cry.
Ji Qinghe had not slept deeply all night; he would wake at her slightest movement. Seeing her crying with her eyes closed, he kissed her forehead and patiently coaxed, "Awake?"
"No."
Last time in Xi'an, she had been the same—unable to sleep soundly through the night.
If the air conditioning grew too cold or the wind picked up, it would startle her awake, so delicate and sensitive.
Drawing from experience, he kissed her gently again and again, asking patiently, "Cold? Or do you want water?"
Shen Qianzhan shook her head again.
"Worried about tomorrow's opening ceremony?"
Trapped in a nightmare, she was deeply weary, yet her consciousness remained clear.
Seeing she didn't shake her head, Ji Qinghe flicked her earlobe lightly with his finger and sighed helplessly, "I remember the time."
Shen Qianzhan stayed silent for a few seconds before whimpering, "No."
"You didn't use a condom."
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