Chapter Sixty-Six
Shen Qianzhan always left room for herself when speaking.
Three parts truth, seven parts falsehood.
If the other party didn’t take the bait, she wouldn’t feel awkward either—a casual joke or banter would smoothly move things along.
Ji Qinghe hadn’t grasped this at first, mistakenly believing that Shen Qianzhan’s decisiveness was genuine and non-negotiable. Occasionally running into walls with her, he always felt it was a matter of timing, that the moment wasn’t quite right.
It was only recently that he discovered a little girl living in Shen Qianzhan’s heart—a girl who was willful and spoiled, completely opposite to the intellectual independence, elegance, and refinement she usually displayed to others.
He raised his hand and gently stroked her hair.
The person buried in the crook of his neck instantly quieted down.
Ji Qinghe took the opportunity to pinch the nape of her neck. Her neck was slender, and the skin at the back was softer and smoother than snow.
“Ms. Meng once had a cat, a Ragdoll,” he said, his voice low, like the sound of an ancient violin, carrying a restrained weariness. “Later, she became too busy with work, so my grandfather took it home to raise.”
“I looked after that cat. It was gentle, as if it had no temper at all.”
Shen Qianzhan listened quietly, not responding.
“After spending more time with it, I realized it wasn’t that it had no temper. It had just learned to hide and show weakness after a life of moving from place to place.” His palm was slightly warm as his fingers moved from the nape of her neck to her earlobe. He whispered, “You’re the opposite. You don’t know how to show weakness; instead, you’re used to pretending to be strong. Over time, even you start to believe that’s how you should be—invulnerable.”
Ji Qinghe lowered his head.
The two were already very close, and as he leaned down—whether intentionally or not—his lips brushed past her forehead, leaving a faint kiss.
Shen Qianzhan closed her eyes for a moment, still stubborn when she spoke. “What do you mean, ‘I start to believe’? I am invulnerable.”
Ji Qinghe chuckled softly, rubbing her earlobe with his thumb. “Didn’t you falter last night?”
Last night?
Shen Qianzhan was about to speak when she suddenly remembered something, her face flushing. She fell silent.
Normally, she would have cursed him as a shameless scoundrel putting on a show. But tonight, perhaps she was truly tired, as she had no interest in even arguing. She remained quiet, not saying a word.
Ji Qinghe let her pretend to be mute.
After about ten minutes, Shen Qianzhan’s phone vibrated with a WeChat notification.
She closed her eyes, ignoring it.
The familiar scent of cold wood, fresh and crisp, lingered faintly in the air.
She nuzzled his neck with her nose, her hand resting on the back of his neck reaching up to pinch his earlobe. She couldn’t quite understand Ji Qinghe’s habit of pinching the nape of her neck and her earlobe, but thinking about it from another perspective, it might be the same as her fondness for pinching Ji Qinghe’s muscles—just a personal preference.
After playing with his earlobe for a while, she remembered she still had a meeting to attend and really shouldn’t waste time lingering here. Reluctantly, she sat back in the passenger seat, and they headed back.
—
Over the next few days, Shen Qianzhan was busy working with Su Zan to finalize the shooting schedule, coordinating with various parties to postpone Song Yan’s entry into the crew, and holding meetings late into the night every day.
During this period, the only thing that brought Shen Qianzhan some relief was the timely arrival of her period.
With a weight lifted from her heart, she was in high spirits, walking around like a ray of sunshine for several days.
On this day, she heard that there was an important scene featuring Fu Xi restoring a clock.
After finishing her meal, Shen Qianzhan headed to the set to watch the filming.Shao Chouxi attached great importance to this scene, intending to produce it as a behind-the-scenes featurette and include it in his personal documentary. By the time Shen Qianzhan arrived, filming had already begun. Standing outside the set, she watched Fu Xi sitting at a table within the overlapping and encircled area, fiddling with a clock.
Most of the props on set were replicas commissioned by Shen Qianzhan from the props department, crafted at a 1:1 scale based on the clocks displayed in Ji Qinghe’s studio at Time Hall.
Due to time constraints, her trip to Xi’an had been repeatedly postponed. Watching the crew hurriedly filming with intentionally aged props, she stroked her chin and asked Qiao Xin if a short-term schedule could be arranged soon—she needed to go to Xi’an as quickly as possible to borrow some equipment.
Originally, if the incident with Song Yan hadn’t occurred, she would have already finalized her itinerary, waiting for Song Yan to join the crew before taking three to five days off to visit Xi’an and meet the elder Ji Qingzhen.
Professional shots could also be taken after receiving more guidance from Ji Qinghe.
But with Song Yan’s injury delaying her entry into the crew, many scenes had to be readjusted and postponed, making everything feel rushed and tense.
Lost in thought, she was snapped back to reality when filming halted. Ji Qinghe and Shao Chouxi were coordinating the shooting angles.
Wearing gloves, Ji Qinghe readjusted the watch strap support, disassembling it step by step while demonstrating the movements.
She approached, standing behind Ji Qinghe.
In the silent set, only his clear voice could be heard, explaining each step.
It was May, and the weather had become unusually hot.
Shen Qianzhan noticed sweat beading at his temples. She waved her hand, borrowing a small fan.
He seemed to sense it, pausing briefly in his explanation. Without turning around, he remained focused on the screwdriver stand, meticulously disassembling the tiny gears and balance wheels inside the clock.
These past few days, while Shen Qianzhan had been busy, Ji Qinghe hadn’t been idle either.
Every evening when she met with the director and others, he was in the adjoining room conducting intensive training sessions for Fu Xi, covering everything from disassembling clocks to assembly and troubleshooting.
Shen Qianzhan had used the excuse of delivering late-night snacks to check on them. The two were staying up even later than she was, working as diligently as if they were training a palace craftsman rather than cramming for the filming needs.
—
In the afternoon, media representatives visited the set.
Shen Qianzhan stayed on set for a while, personally paying for Qiao Xin to order afternoon tea. This was both to reward the crew and to show goodwill to the visiting media.
Recently, the news of the fight on the Spring River set and Song Yan’s accidental injury had stirred up quite a storm online. The Wuxi Film and Television City had experienced a small surge in visitor traffic.
Outside the Time set, media reporters and paparazzi often lingered, hoping to uncover some information.
Ever since learning that the rumors about Fu Xi and Song Yan were true, Shen Qianzhan had been worrying like an anxious mother. With Song Yan still recuperating, she was forced to cover for Fu Xi.
Given the recent tense situation, she was not only guarding against rivals seizing on rumors to undermine her but also worrying about leaks from the Time set. The stress had nearly left her with dark circles under her eyes and sleepless nights.
During the meeting two nights ago, her suggestion to open the set to media visits received widespread support, so she promptly added it to the agenda.
As the scheduled time approached, Shen Qianzhan arranged the media reception area and instructed Qiao Xin to distribute drinks and cakes to the journalists who arrived early. She also took two portions herself and personally delivered them to Ji Qinghe and Shao Chouxi on set.
When she returned to the set, only Shao Chouxi was in the studio, sitting behind the monitor and smoking.Shen Qianzhan handed him the drink, glanced around, and not seeing Ji Qinghe, asked, "Where's Teacher Ji?"
Shao Chouxi flicked the cigarette with his finger and said, "You can tell he's not here just by seeing me smoke." He tilted his head with a smile, pointing the cigarette tip toward the path outside the studio to indicate a direction: "Probably went to wash his hands."
Shen Qianzhan followed his gesture and looked outside. Beyond the door was a lush thicket of trees, with nothing but the scorching sun in sight.
Without an umbrella, she walked along the stone path in her high heels for nearly two minutes before finally spotting Ji Qinghe at the sink.
The place was remote, with a lake just beyond the lawn. A period drama crew had rented the area for filming, and the only passage was guarded by a crew member. Aside from that, there were few people around.
Shen Qianzhan didn’t make a sound.
She bit the straw, took a sip of coffee, and squinted as she watched Ji Qinghe scoop water to wash his face.
He wasn’t wearing glasses, and his face was drenched, even his hair damp, dripping water steadily. Seeing her approach, he leaned against the sink, waiting for the water to drain a bit before drying his hands and walking toward her.
Shen Qianzhan offered him a cold drink.
Ji Qinghe didn’t take it.
He glanced down at the flattened straw she had bitten, took the coffee from her palm, unscrewed the lid, took a couple of sips, and then handed it back to her: "Drinking coffee? Not planning to sleep tonight?"
His move to take the coffee was so smooth that it wasn’t until the cup was back in her hand that Shen Qianzhan processed what had happened.
She was stunned.
She wanted to call him out but felt it was too trivial to make a fuss over. Yet, if she let it slide, she’d feel unfairly treated. Caught in this dilemma, by the time she figured out the best response, the moment had long passed.
"I saw Qiao Xin arranging your schedule," Ji Qinghe said, holding the drink for her as they walked back. "Making time for Xi’an?"
Shen Qianzhan was surprised by his perceptiveness: "The official notice just came out, and you already know?"
Ji Qinghe raised an eyebrow, reminding her: "We were planning to go to Xi’an in the next few days anyway."
The stone path was a bit slippery, and as he watched her steps, he added, "Some of the props are too new, too obvious." He pursued perfection in everything, sometimes as demanding as Shao Chouxi.
Shen Qianzhan shared the same concern. She also wanted to visit Old Mr. Ji’s studio to see if it could provide more inspiration for Time.
With the crew just starting, adjustments were still possible. Later on, even a trip to Xi’an would be unnecessary, let alone finding inspiration.
"Wait until tonight," Shen Qianzhan took a sip of coffee and said, "We should know the timing by tonight."
—
Shen Qianzhan’s trip to Xi’an was arranged that same night—three days in total, departing the evening after next.
On the day of her departure, it happened to be the day Song Yan returned to Spring River. Xiao Sheng contacted her through Qiao Xin, asking if she had time for a meal. He wanted to apologize for the trouble caused by his mismanagement.
Shen Qianzhan had just finished showering and was about to rest.
Her trip to Xi’an needed to be arranged as soon as possible—how could she spare time to dine with Xiao Sheng and listen to his apologies? She wasn’t about to tempt fate.
Her dissatisfaction with Xiao Sheng was growing, and she was also displeased with Su Lanyi’s favoritism. Unfortunately, in the workplace, if she acted on her temper, no one would see it as authenticity—they’d only think she was arrogant and ill-mannered.Even though Shen Qianzhan was deeply displeased, she could only smile and ask Qiao Xin to reply: "I've been on a business trip recently, so let's have a meal after I return. As for making amends, Producer Xiao is too polite. We're all colleagues and should support and take responsibility for each other."
Qiao Xin naturally sensed her insincerity and polished the message before conveying it to Xiao Sheng.
That night after falling asleep.
Shen Qianzhan's mind replayed the trials and tribulations of these past years, like scenes flashing before her eyes. In her dream, she revisited everything that had happened over the years.
From establishing the artist management department to Xiang Qianqian terminating her contract and leaving; from the scandal sparked by Su Zan's social media posts to the public relations pressure imposed by Su Lanyi; from being stranded with the "Spring River" crew in Wuxi to today's incident where Xiao Sheng's crew accidentally injured Song Yan and dragged her down.
Each event was like a storm at sea, shifting from calm to turmoil in an instant.
She woke up in the middle of the night and fumbled for her phone to check the time, only to realize that barely half an hour had passed since she fell asleep.
Drenched in a cold sweat and feeling sticky and uncomfortable all over, she had just gotten up to take a shower when the doorbell rang.
At one in the morning, what kind of male ghost was knocking on her door seeking pleasure, relying on his good looks?
Just as Shen Qianzhan was growing suspicious.
Outside the door, Ji Qinghe's lowered voice was as clear and cool as frosty pine: "It's me."
Oh, not a male ghost—a male fox spirit.
OpenNovel