There were about five or six people in the room. Everyone was very busy, and there were many things on the bed, making it look a bit messy. Suddenly, with a bang, the bathroom door flew open. Shen Jia, with dripping hair and wearing only a bathrobe, rushed out of the bathroom at the urging of a tall and thin boy.

When he saw Qi Cong, he didn’t forget to say hello and explained, “Brother Cong, thank you for bringing the clothes. Just now, there was a temporary trip, and we are short of people, so I could only trouble you. By the way, there are drinks on the table. You can drink if you’re thirsty.”

Qi Cong stepped back to avoid the short-haired girl, who was holding a curling iron, stood in an empty corner, away from all the bustle, and nodded.

“You still have time to care about this? Sit down! Prepare! Blow his hair!” Zhao Zhenxun sat Shen Jia at the table, turned his face to the mirror and said, “Don’t act silly and stand by yourself when you enter the meeting hall. When you see the writers, producers, and directors you know, say hello. No matter whether you are familiar with them or not, just say hello, chat as much as you can, and try to leave a good impression.”

Shen Jia raised his head to let Yuan help blow his hair and listened.

Zhao Zhenxun still looked uneasy. “In short, pay more attention to yourself. There are a lot of directors and producers coming to this exchange meeting. This is your chance. You should seize it.”

Shen Jia whispered, “I still don’t understand why they would send me an invitation or even a guest invitation for this kind of meeting about the development of the film and television industry. This kind of occasion should be for those big producers and directors. I’m just a singer. How can I understand what they are talking about or discuss industry trends?”

Zhao Zhenxun obviously didn’t understand it either, but this was not the point right now. They had to sieze the opportunity when it came, so he frowned and patted Shen Jia on the shoulder.  “Exactly, you have to listen to it even though you don’t understand. Just think you have come on behalf of General Manager Shen to listen to the trends in the industry.”

Shen Jia finally settled down.

Half an hour later, Shen Jia was dressed and walked out of the bathroom. He was wearing a light-blue-gray casual suit, a pair of white shoes were on his feet, and his short hair was arranged simply and loose. Coupled with his handsome features and sunny temperament, he gave the impression of someone on the cusp of adulthood.

Zhao Zhenxun nodded. “Yes, it looks alright. This suit suits you. We’re going to be late. Let’s go downstairs!”

Shen Jia didn’t move but put on a flattering expression. “Brother Zhao, can I bring an assistant in?”

The assistants, who were tidying up the room, turned around and looked at Shen Jia. Qi Cong, who had been standing in the corner without disturbing everyone’s work, also looked at Shen Jia.

Zhao Zhenxun could see Shen Jia’s careful thoughts and looked at Qi Cong in the corner. He frowned and said, “Yes, but don’t talk with the assistant all the time. You have to—”

“Say hello to the producers and directors. I know. I understand. You can rest assured,” Shen Jia happily interrupted Zhao Zhenxun’s words, whizzed towards Qi Cong’s side, and pushed Qi Cong to walk outside, then said to the other assistants, “Next time, I’ll take you to other occasions.”

The assistants were amused and turned their gazes back to Shen Jia. One of them replied, “Farewell. I don’t want to go to this boring occasion. I’d rather stay here and play with my cell phone and wait for you to come out.”

Zhao Zhenxun urged again, “Alright, stop talking. The staff is already waiting.”

Qi Cong was pushed out of the room by Shen Jia. He turned around and asked, “You’re going to bring me in?”

“Mm-hmm. There will be a lot of big-name screenwriters in this exchange. Isn’t that what you studied? I’ll introduce you to the screenwriters I know in a moment. There are multiple contacts and many possibilities.” Shen Jia lowered his voice, glanced at Zhao Zhenxun, who was following them, and added, “Shhh! Don’t let Brother Zhao hear, or he will start nagging again.”

Qi Cong was stunned for a moment and then his heart softened. Shen Jia remembered the words he used to reassure his parents. He patted Shen Jia’s hand and whispered back, “OK.”

The exchange meeting was held in the Peony Hall on the third floor of Vienna Hotel. All three of them felt that this kind of professional exchange meeting would not have too much media presence. However, when the elevator opened, there were flashing lights everywhere.

Zhao Zhenxun reacted quickly. After turning Shen Jia around, he lowered his voice and murmured to Qi Cong, “Take care of Jia Jia until we enter the venue. Hurry up!”

Qi Cong returned to his senses, hurriedly stepped forward to block the media representatives near him and Shen Jia, who was showing a standard polite smile on his face while walking quickly with his protectors on both sides.

Qi Cong frowned when he heard a reporter whisper, “Why Shen Jia?”

Why did he say it in a disappointed tone?

The reporters didn’t cling to them but broke off after taking several shots. The three of them smoothly passed through the representatives of the media and reached the door to the venue. Shen Jia and Qi Cong entered the venue smoothly by virtue of the access passes given by the staff in advance, and Zhao Zhenxun stayed outside to deal with the formalities.

The two of them had walked only two steps inside when there was suddenly a huge commotion behind them and shutters sounded one after another. The reporters, who remained relatively quiet when Shen Jia appeared, all shouted loud. 

Everyone was shouting, so no one could be heard clearly. In the ensuing noise, only one name could be heard, “Gu Xun”. 

“Gu Xun, you . . .”

“Mr. Gu Xun . . .”

Qi Cong stopped abruptly and looked back. Shen Jia also showed a surprised expression and looked back.

Behind the flashing lights, a slender figure, protected by bodyguards and assistants, strode towards them through the enthusiastic group of reporters. He had wide shoulders and long legs, and his light and soft wine-red shirt was plastered on his body as he walked. It outlined the solid muscles of his chest. His narrow and just-right waistline was bound by a dark belt, and the black casual pants wrapped around his long legs. His right hand hung at his side; a touch of red could be seen between his fingers. The left hand was slightly hooked on the belt buckle and the other hand on the lanyard of the access pass. His snow-white waist was wrapped in a dark blue belt in a flirtatious manner. 

Probably because he was affected by the camera flashes, he lowered his head slightly, making a few strands of his combed-back curly black hair fall and cover his forehead. The contour of his long eyebrows was blurred by the movement of his hair. His deep eyes were half closed under his eyebrows. You could also see the light shadow of his thick fan-shaped eyelashes. Under the stiff and narrow bridge of his nose, his thin lips were straight and pursed, displaying a trace of the owner’s displeasure.

Qi Cong looked at this person, and his eyes widened a little bit. The image in his memories gradually became clearer, overlapping with the approaching figure and was then decisively crushed by him.

Perhaps because he noticed Qi Cong’s gaze, the man, who had half lowered his eyes, suddenly raised them.

The two men’s gazes met.

Identical eyes, identical face, but a completely different temperament. That earth-shaking expression and clothing. Qi Cong clenched his hands into fists and his lips tightened. It took him a lot of effort to restrain his reaction.

This man . . . who was he? Why did he have the same face as the man in his memories? Why was he also called Gu Xun? Why did he . . .  look totally different from that man? 

The man halted the moment he saw Qi Cong and then walked a little faster. The reporters, who were trying to block him, and the bodyguards and assistants were all left behind. He stopped in front of Qi Cong, looked down at him, and smiled. A lukewarm smile.

“I found you at last.”

The same voice but what a dreadfully strange tone. Qi Cong looked straight up at him, scrutinizing his face inch by inch before finally sweeping to the half-open collar of his shirt and fixing his gaze on the area just under his right clavicle. The mole was there just like in his memories.

Qi Cong’s chest heaved quickly, and little by little, he moved his eyes upward to look at the man’s face and into his eyes.

“I’m Gu Xun.” There was something glum in the man’s eyes that puzzled Qi Cong. He stooped slightly and held Qi Cong’s hand, which was hanging at his side. He pried open Qi Cong’s hand a bit and the ring on his finger pressed slightly on Qi Cong’s hand. “You . . . do you remember me?”

With that, he stepped back and glanced at Shen Jia, who was looking foolishly at Qi Cong. The corners of his mouth pulled up, and he turned to walk deeper into the venue.

Qi Cong lowered his head, shook his numbed hand, slowly regaining his sense of touch.

“Brother Cong, do you know Gu Xun? He can’t be—” Shen Jia’s voice faded after seeing Qi Cong’s eyes. He froze, then panicked, then raised his hand, before putting it down. He took out his handkerchief from his pocket and asked carefully, “Brother Cong, what’s wrong with you? You . . . Don’t cry!”

Qi Cong wiped his eyes hard with his hand and took a deep breath to put his emotions under control, then said quickly, “I’m sorry. I’ll go to the bathroom.” With that, he turned around and strode away, not daring to stay there a second longer. 


Edited by : Faro

Proofreader: Taalia

Support translation:

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