Wen Qingyan watched from afar as Jing Zejun celebrated the wrap of her scene, holding a bouquet of flowers with a radiant smile on her face. She was still clad in her blood-stained battle armor.
Wen Qingyan didn’t rush to change out of his own dirtied costume, content to simply gaze at her. He felt his heartbeat quicken, a rhythm that grew faster with each passing moment.
“Qingyan, what are you looking at?” someone asked.
“...Brother, we might need to prepare a PR contingency plan,” he replied.
“Huh?!”
From that day on, his manager knew Wen Qingyan had someone he liked. But that PR plan never came into play, even years later.
Wen Qingyan had harbored feelings for Jing Zejun for years, so long that even his manager grew exasperated.
“What are you even doing? If you like her, just confess! All these years of silently watching over her—how is she supposed to know you’re the one behind those opportunities? And honestly…” The manager paused, his expression complicated. “It’s kind of creepy.”
Wen Qingyan sighed. He was well aware of how questionable his actions were.
He always told himself to wait a little longer.
At first, he wanted to give her time to step out of her role, not wanting to appear at her most vulnerable.
Later, he learned about her family situation—her parents were both ill. Helping her secure better medical care was the most straightforward way he could support her without overstepping.
Then, she seemed to go through a tough period, losing weight and her smile dimming.
And then, she became the younger sister of his boss—the heiress of the Jing family.
It turned out the similarity in their names wasn’t a coincidence. If only he had realized sooner, she wouldn’t have had to face so much alone.
His manager was right. If he hadn’t found the courage in all those years, now that Jing Zejun was the Jing family’s heiress, it would be even harder to express his feelings.
She would be surrounded by even more eligible suitors, and he would just be one among many.
Even though he knew the Jing family didn’t judge people based on wealth or status, Wen Qingyan couldn’t help but feel anxious.
He didn’t want to pressure Jing Zejun for a response; he just wanted her to see him as a genuine pursuer.
...
“Qingyan-ge, wait here for a bit. I’ll check how much longer Zejun-jie has on set.”
Wen Qingyan nodded gently and took a seat in Jing Zejun’s dressing room. His eyes wandered until they landed on a small potted plant on the table. He stared at it for a few seconds, his gaze carrying a hint of something deeper.
The assistant returned quickly, and Wen Qingyan shifted his attention.
“Qingyan-ge, Zejun-jie will be back soon. She and Jiang Xu are almost done with their scene.”
Wen Qingyan’s eyes flickered slightly. “Jiang Xu?” The assistant nodded.
Wen Qingyan smiled. “I’ve been curious about him. Would it be alright if I went to take a look?” After a brief hesitation, the assistant led him to the set.
Wen Qingyan stood quietly in a corner, unnoticed as everyone’s attention was focused on the two actors filming.
They were playing a pair of young lovers experiencing their first blush of romance—nothing unusual.
As someone in the entertainment industry himself, Wen Qingyan wasn’t bothered by such scenes. But if the other person harbored ulterior motives…
He stood still, his gentle eyes concealing a glint of something sharper.
“Jiang Xu, your expression is off. You need to relax. If you’re this tense, how can the audience feel the chemistry?”
The director wasn’t satisfied with Jiang Xu’s performance, even after multiple takes.
With a sigh, the director said, “Let’s take a break. Try to get into the right mindset.” He turned to speak to the assistant director but spotted Wen Qingyan in the corner.
His eyes lit up.
“Qingyan?”
They had worked together before, and without exaggeration, collaborating with an actor like Wen Qingyan was one of the director’s easiest jobs.
Wen Qingyan walked over with a soft smile. “Director, it’s been a while.”
The director patted his shoulder warmly. “You rarely come to visit sets! What brings you here?” He glanced teasingly toward Jing Zejun.
The two actors were still discussing how to avoid another NG.
Suddenly, the director had an idea, his eyes brightening further. “Qingyan, could you do me a favor and give a demonstration?”
Wen Qingyan was momentarily taken aback. He had never filmed overly intimate scenes with Jing Zejun—even in their previous drama, *The Reign*, the most they had done was a simple embrace.
Before he could respond, the director called over Jiang Xu and Jing Zejun, who were still practicing.
Jiang Xu stiffened slightly upon seeing Wen Qingyan. It was an open secret in the industry: Wen Qingyan had feelings for Jing Zejun.
Jiang Xu approached and greeted him with a smile, revealing a pair of small fangs. “Qingyan-ge, nice to meet you. I’m Jiang Xu.”
Wen Qingyan nodded politely. “Hello.” Then his gaze shifted to Jing Zejun.
They didn’t exchange words, but the look between them hinted at a connection that set them apart from others.
A shadow flickered in Jiang Xu’s eyes, though his smile remained bright. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Zejun. It’s a shame we’re only meeting now.”
Wen Qingyan’s expression didn’t change, his smile still gentle.
“Is that so? She’s never mentioned you to me.”
Jiang Xu’s smile faltered, unsure how to respond.
The director, sensing the tension, quickly changed the subject.
“Anyway, Jiang Xu, let’s have Qingyan demonstrate that scene for you.”
The director’s reasoning was simple: Wen Qingyan was a decorated actor, a rising star still highly sought after by directors.
If not for their prior relationship, it would’ve been difficult to get Wen Qingyan to do a demonstration.
Jiang Xu’s smile grew uneasy. “Director, isn’t that too much trouble for Qingyan-ge? I think I’ll get the hang of it if I practice more with Zejun.”
Before he could finish, Wen Qingyan interjected, “It’s no trouble at all. I’m happy to help. What do you think, Zejun?”
Jing Zejun, who was still processing the sudden turn of events, replied, “Uh, I don’t mind.” But how had things escalated so quickly?
With the director and the female lead both agreeing, Jiang Xu had no choice but to watch as Wen Qingyan stepped into his role.
Jiang Xu did like Jing Zejun, and while her family background played a part, it wasn’t as if he was solely after her wealth.
His gifts were sincere, and his feelings genuine—though one’s family was an inseparable part of who they were.
Wen Qingyan was indeed a formidable rival, more established in the industry. But since Jing Zejun hadn’t responded to either of them, didn’t that mean he still had a chance?
After all, in matters of the heart, there was no rule about who came first.
Jiang Xu stood where Wen Qingyan had been, watching as the director positioned the other man in his place.
