Chapter 88
If you want to celebrate your birthday, I’ll just turn the clock forward a bit.
This sentence was like a fairy’s hand, completely illuminating her world.
Last New Year’s Eve, Ji Qinghe had told her, “You can make wishes to me, and they’ll be valid every year on this day.” Back then, Shen Qianzhan wasn’t yet together with Ji Qinghe.
Beneath her calm and composed exterior lay a deep sea, easily stirred into towering waves by his simple words.
And then came today.
After summer arrived, Wuxi became as hot as a steamer. Every day, she felt trapped inside, like a steamed bun oozing with heat. This rain came suddenly and quietly, yet in an instant, it took over the entire land and seeped into her heart.
Shen Qianzhan considered herself something of a seasoned veteran in matters of love.
Over the years, countless fresh faces, seasoned veterans, and sweet talkers had approached her with ulterior motives—whether to climb the social ladder or to win her favor for resources. Some pursued her openly, while others sent subtle signals. Their flirtatious tactics ranged from earnest attentiveness to intentional or unintentional physical contact, yet none had truly moved her.
It was all superficial, fragile, and shallow.
She could usually predict their next move after seeing the first, and when she was in a good mood, she might even play along. When she wasn’t, she’d dismantle their advances without leaving them any face.
As a result, among the reputations of producers like Jian Xin, Xiao Sheng, and others from her batch, she alone bore the label of “hard to please.”
In contrast, it was a man like Ji Qinghe—whose social status and position seemed worlds apart from the entertainment industry—who could effortlessly pluck the strings of her heart, sending her soaring to the heavens, weightless and euphoric.
He had nothing to do with the fast-paced, superficial world Shen Qianzhan inhabited. He didn’t need to learn how to flatter or maintain social connections, nor did he have to engage in socializing to improve his emotional intelligence or interpersonal skills.
Yet, he could maintain his lofty demeanor while spouting all sorts of cheeky, down-to-earth remarks. It was like a luxury brand transforming a snakeskin travel bag—a blend of high-end sophistication and worldly charm.
“I used to think that if I ever fell in love, I’d be a handful,” she said, all her sharp edges softened, her entire being melting into tenderness. “But I never expected I’d be so easy to please.”
So easy that with just one sentence from him, she could let go of everything.
The rain gradually grew heavier, tapping rhythmically against the wooden planks of the boardwalk.
In the distance, the lights along the long beach swayed haphazardly, likely disrupted by the sudden downpour. The festivities had ended abruptly, and preparations for evacuation were underway.
Ji Qinghe held her hand as they walked back. “How long ago was this ‘before’? When you were eighteen or three?”
They weren’t far from the lakeside open-air parking lot, sheltered under the trees, so they hadn’t gotten too wet.
From a distance, they could clearly hear the crew members shouting to move the props first. Chaos reigned in the distance, but the two of them stood beneath the trees, as if detached from the scene, untouched by the commotion.
“Around twenty-two,” Shen Qianzhan said. “An age when I still had high hopes for love.”
It was also a time when she could throw herself into love like a moth to a flame, reckless and unreserved.
Ji Qinghe played with her palm in his hand. “And what else?”"Back then, I thought he must look really good in a white shirt—clean and fresh, like a boy by the summer seaside. But later, when the crew went to the seaside for location shooting and stayed for about a month, everyone, young and old, got tanned so dark they looked like refugees from Africa. After that, I completely lost any thoughts about 'summer seaside boys.'" At this point, she couldn’t help but sigh. "The gap between reality and dreams is too stark—it can’t withstand real-life experience."
Ji Qinghe couldn’t help but laugh.
He imagined the expression Shen Qianzhan, still a young woman in her twenties, would have worn after seeing the "summer seaside boy" of her dreams, only to be visually shocked and realistically disillusioned. He clenched his fist and pressed it against his lips to suppress his smile. "And now?"
"Never thought about it," Shen Qianzhan admitted candidly. "At most, in the dead of night, I might regret all the romantic opportunities that came my way but I didn’t take. As I’ve gotten older, my criteria for men have narrowed down to just one." She paused briefly, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Whether I want to sleep with them."
Shen Qianzhan gave an example: "For instance, when I see Su Zan, I feel no appetite or interest at all. But when I see Zhou Yan, I can’t help but want to tear his clothes open here and there, exposing a bit here and a bit there, just to feast my eyes on..." the romantic view.
Before she could finish, her hand was squeezed hard.
Shen Qianzhan winced in pain, hissing softly.
Only then did she realize how dangerous the silent gaze beside her was. It felt as if she had been thrown into an ice age—the temperature around her plummeted, and it seemed like everything was about to freeze over. She rubbed the back of her neck, quickly shedding her outermost layer of smugness, cleared her throat, and earnestly tried to salvage the situation: "I was just joking, letting off some steam. Besides yours, I’ve never torn anyone else’s clothes..."
Ji Qinghe had long heard of her notorious "flirtatious" reputation and didn’t feel like wasting words now. "No rush. I’ll let you tear them to your heart’s content when we get back tonight."
Shen Qianzhan: "..." That really isn’t necessary.
—
As the rain grew heavier and more persistent, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed frequently within the clouds.
The two could no longer stay under the tree and made their way from the greenbelt beside the boardwalk into the parking lot.
Qiao Xin had been searching everywhere for Shen Qianzhan. Afraid to make a call with the thunder starting overhead, she had grabbed an umbrella and was about to go out to look when she turned around and saw Shen Qianzhan and Ji Qinghe returning one after the other. She hurried over, holding the umbrella for both of them.
As she shielded Shen Qianzhan from the rain, she shouted over the noisy downpour, "Director Shao and Teacher Fu have already gone back to the hotel. Su Zan asked me to find you and take you and Teacher Ji back first. He’s staying here to help the crew load everything onto the trucks before heading back."
Shen Qianzhan looked at the chaotic scene in the parking lot and asked, "Did the monitoring equipment get damaged by the rain?"
"No," Qiao Xin replied. "After wrap today, all the filming equipment was packed up. Only the cinematographers took two handheld cameras for outdoor shots."
Seeing that everyone was packing up the barbecue grills and some crew props, Shen Qianzhan felt relieved. "Let’s head back first, then."
—
Back at the hotel, Shen Qianzhan took a shower first.
Thanks to Shao Chouxi, the entire crew had the night off, and she was able to enjoy some leisure time as well.
After blow-drying her hair, Shen Qianzhan slipped a long robe over her pajamas, grabbed her phone and room key, and headed to Ji Qinghe’s room for a visit.
After sneaking around so many times, there was no longer any pretense of modesty.In the early days after they had just confirmed their romantic relationship, neither had yet adapted to the other's work rhythm and daily routine. Usually, it was Ji Qinghe who took the initiative, checking via WeChat or phone calls to confirm no one was in her room before sneaking over late at night.
Later, as Ji Qinghe's official duties gradually increased, often keeping him busy until midnight, Shen Qianzhan used the excuse of delivering late-night snacks a few times and naturally ended up with a key card to his room, coming and going freely.
Slowly, the two developed a habit—whoever finished work first would go to the other's room.
Typically, as long as Shen Qianzhan avoided the "peak activity hours" in the corridor, she could proceed without hindrance. Upon reaching Ji Qinghe's door, she would swipe the card and enter, the entire process flowing smoothly and seamlessly, so practiced it was as if they had been sneaking around in a past life—it couldn't have been more skilled.
Unexpectedly, today got off to a somewhat unlucky start.
The mishap occurred just as Shen Qianzhan swiped open the door and prepared to enter. Inside, Fu Xi, who had heard the commotion and come to open the door, happened to run right into her face-to-face.
Besides Fu Xi, there were several others in the room, some sitting, some standing.
The scene was akin to catching someone in the act, undeniably awkward.
Shen Qianzhan was so embarrassed she could have dug her toes into the ground. Faced with a room full of eager and bewildered gazes, she stiffened like a block of wood, only able to stare back at Fu Xi.
The latter's gaze lingered briefly and restrainedly on her casually worn pajamas before shifting to the key card in her hand.
Undoubtedly, the key card in Shen Qianzhan's hand was for Ji Qinghe's room. And just now, he hadn't been seeing things—Shen Qianzhan had indeed swiped the card to open the door before he could open it himself.
After a brief few seconds of silence, Fu Xi was the first to react, casually paving the way for her: "Producer Shen, are you here to see Teacher Ji?"
At this moment, Shen Qianzhan felt like she wanted to die. She forced a dry laugh and greeted, "You're all here?"
Fu Xi smiled: "I heard the blackwood enamel antique clock is being sent back tomorrow, so I came with the assistant director to take another look." To spare Shen Qianzhan further embarrassment, he blocked the curious glances behind him completely and said in a low voice, "Teacher Ji went downstairs to get his tools."
The blackwood enamel carved antique clock depicting the Eight Immortals of Penglai presenting treasures had been disassembled once during filming. Later, after wrapping up, Ji Qinghe moved the clock to his room and reassembled it.
If Fu Xi and the others wanted to see the antique clock, they indeed had no choice but to come to Ji Qinghe's room.
After chatting for a bit, Shen Qianzhan also calmed down.
Just as she was considering which excuse to use, a familiar, deep voice unexpectedly sounded behind her: "You're here?"
Shen Qianzhan turned around.
Ji Qinghe stood behind her, holding a leather-wrapped tool bag.
His eyes, deep and dark, held a hint of amusement, clearly seeing through her predicament and teasing her.
Shen Qianzhan flicked her hair, signaling him discreetly.
Ji Qinghe understood.
His gaze swept past Fu Xi into the room. Instead of asking her to leave, he tilted his head slightly, gesturing for her to come inside and talk.
Reluctantly, Shen Qianzhan let him guide her by the waist, pushing her a few steps into the room.
Once inside, Ji Qinghe tossed the tool bag to Fu Xi, indicating he should remove the protective cover himself: "Producer Shen and I have something to discuss. You all can look first."
He didn't offer any deliberate explanation, simply giving her the only empty chair in the room. He lifted the bedding and sat on the edge of the bed, earnestly discussing the transportation of the clock with her.His hair was damp at the ends, as if he had just finished showering and hadn’t had time to dry it before being forced to welcome this group of uninvited guests.
Shen Qianzhan watched, feeling a little amused.
She could sense that the people in the room were paying no attention to the clock at all. While they nodded along verbally, each of them was secretly eavesdropping on their conversation.
Transporting the clock wasn’t particularly troublesome.
Once the driver and vehicle were arranged, along with a few delivery personnel to accompany the shipment, the clock could be safely returned to Xi’an within two days.
But with so many people listening, to make it seem as though transporting the antique clock was genuinely difficult—difficult enough to require discussion with the producer—Ji Qinghe laid out three different transportation plans for her to approve.
After they finished discussing the clock’s transportation, Ji Qinghe stood up to see her out.
At the door, once he confirmed they were out of sight from those behind them, he grabbed Shen Qianzhan’s wrist, pulled her back, and leaned in to kiss her. The first kiss landed on her eyelid, the second on her lips. When he tried for a third, she refused.
Shen Qianzhan covered her face with her palm, leaving only her eyes visible, and stared back at him with a less-than-friendly expression.
After a tense standoff lasting several seconds, worried that staying away too long would arouse suspicion, Ji Qinghe let go first and silently mouthed, “Wait half an hour. I’ll come find you.”
Shen Qianzhan was not pleased.
Her lifelong reputation had been completely ruined tonight.
She could already imagine how the rumors outside would spread: they would say they had witnessed the lustful Producer Shen using Ji Qinghe’s room card to swipe open his door, and if they hadn’t been in his room at the time, who knows what kind of cruel torture and loss of innocence Teacher Ji would have suffered tonight.
What was even more embarrassing was that whenever she thought about the act she had just put on—a performance that everyone clearly saw through as a flimsy cover—she cringed so hard it made her scalp tingle.
Too frustrated to speak, she didn’t even spare a second glance at Ji Qinghe, who was practically begging to have his legs broken tonight, and turned back to her room.
—
Half an hour later—or to be precise, even before the half hour was up—he arrived early.
Shen Qianzhan was holding her laptop, reviewing the birthday behind-the-scenes footage Qiao Xin had sent over just over ten minutes ago. When she heard the mechanical sound of a room card swiping the door, her eyelids twitched, and she nearly dropped the laptop.
She paused the video, curled up in her chair, and turned to look at him.
The light from outside was blocked as he closed the door behind him. The moment the door shut, he lifted his gaze and accurately caught her line of sight.
Shen Qianzhan remembered she was still upset, so she snorted, turned back, and continued watching the footage.
In the video, Shao Chouxi wore a golden crown, his eyes closed as he made a wish. His first wish was whispered silently in his heart, but as he opened his eyes, his second wish was declared with conviction: “May the filming of Time proceed smoothly and without a hitch. And may all our crew members stay healthy, safe, and happy every day.”
As soon as he finished speaking, cheers erupted.
Fireworks lit up the shore, and for a moment, it felt like stepping into a fairy tale.
The cameraman’s lens moved clockwise from Shao Chouxi to Fu Xi, Song Yan, and the other main cast members. Even Shen Qianzhan, standing in the corner, wasn’t spared—the editors had added a subtitle to the shots where she appeared: “The Producer’s Factory-Director Smile.”Ji Qinghe glanced at the screen, reading the subtitles as he lifted her from the chair. After clearing the seat and sitting down himself, he wrapped his arms around her, holding the computer steady with one hand while turning her chin with the other. He kissed her on the lips and asked, "When did you secretly become a female entrepreneur without telling me?"
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