Now It’s My Turn

By the time he came to his senses, Ye Zhiqiu had already gotten out of the car.

The Ye family gate slowly closed, obscuring half his figure.

His posture was straight, his steps steady, utterly resolute.

Angry?

Yes.

Humiliated?

Yes.

Panicked and afraid?

Also yes.

…

Qi Xin couldn’t articulate what he felt in that moment.

But that fragile yet intensely powerful pride of his had been mercilessly torn apart, trampled…

Bleeding profusely.

This job—I can’t do it anymore!

The thought blazed through his mind, his eyes wild with fury.

The spot on his cheek where Ye Zhiqiu had patted him still remembered the cool, soft touch of his palm.

Qi Xin raised his hand and touched it.

Then, enraged, he clenched his fist and slammed it against the steering wheel.

Pain shot through his knuckles.

His fury-addled brain finally cleared slightly.

He didn’t linger any longer.

He started the car and drove away from the Ye residence without looking back.

The car sped out of the Ye family’s neighborhood, turning onto an empty road.

Qi Xin pressed his lips tightly together.

Then suddenly slammed on the brakes.

The screech of tires was especially harsh in the darkness.

Just earlier, on the way back, he’d had everything planned perfectly.

After dropping Ye Zhiqiu home, he would go to the Jiang residence and apologize to Jiang Nan.

He understood—he had truly hurt Jiang Nan today.

So he’d prepared himself for whatever it took to earn forgiveness.

But now…

He felt like a stray dog no one wanted, wandering in the winter night wind, with no idea where to go.

The car sat there for who knows how long.

Qi Xin leaned blankly against the driver’s seat, staring through the windshield at the vast, distant sky.

“Tonight you dance only with me. No one else.”

Suddenly, Ye Zhiqiu’s smiling voice echoed in his ears.

His eyes curved, looking playful and possessive.

Qi Xin clenched his fists, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Taming him might take longer than you think.” Tao Ruoqing’s voice followed. “You need even more patience.”

And finally, those collections on VIA’s official website—the new designs selling at a pace that left everything else in the dust.

Qi Xin closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath.

A moment later, the car turned around and headed back to the Ye family neighborhood.

* * * *

That night, Ye Zhiqiu slept exceptionally well.

He watched Qi Xin leave.

He watched Qi Xin return.

Like watching his past self, struggling in vain.

Like watching that night, long ago, when Qi Xin had locked him out, leaving him shivering in the cold for hours—already “homeless.”

Qi Xin at least had a car to shield him from the wind, Ye Zhiqiu thought coldly.

Lucky him.

But it didn’t matter. There was always plenty of time.

He settled into bed peacefully, not worried at all that Qi Xin might leave in the middle of the night.

If he left, how could he play the victim?

This was Qi Xin’s usual trick.

“Playing the victim” had permeated his entire process of manipulating Ye Zhiqiu.

Ye Zhiqiu was soft-hearted. People exploited that.

By the time he realized they were only there to trample him, he was already battered, barely breathing, with no strength left to fight back.

But now, Ye Zhiqiu understood.

The weapons for controlling someone weren’t just exploiting their softness.

There was also interest.

* * * *

The next morning, when Ye Zhiqiu came downstairs, Tao Ruoqing and Ye Zheng were already seated at the table.

“Well, you eat well, drink well, sleep well.” Tao Ruoqing frowned at him. “Young Qi’s been outside freezing all night waiting for you.”

“Oh?” Ye Zhiqiu looked slightly surprised. “Didn’t he leave long ago?”

“Go see for yourself,” Tao Ruoqing said.

Ye Zhiqiu shrugged and laughed indifferently, looking both cruel and innocent.

“How stupid is he? Who goes out in the middle of the night? Why did he have to wait in the dark?”

Tao Ruoqing was rendered speechless by his attitude.

“He called you so many times last night. You didn’t answer a single one. How could he dare leave?”

“The phone kept ringing in the early morning.” Ye Zhiqiu said it as if it were the most natural thing. “Wouldn’t you turn it off?”

To prevent his mother from being provoked to death on the spot, Ye Zheng intervened.

“If you don’t like him, send him away. People coming and going at the gate—it’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him.” Ye Zhiqiu set down his coffee, his expression turning more serious.

“You know what, brother?” he said. “Yesterday, I kindly brought him to meet some industry people. And then he turned around and gave me attitude.”

Ye Zhiqiu blinked incredulously, his entitled attitude utterly taken for granted.

“I’m the dignified second young master of the Ye family. Why should I do thankless work? Why should I have to care about someone else’s mood? Do I have a death wish?”

Ye Zheng knew Ye Zhiqiu’s temper.

If that’s really what happened, then that Qi Xin outside deserved every minute of his sleepless night.

“So what do you want him to do?” he asked.

Ye Zhiqiu took a bite of the silky smooth shrimp and egg custard.

“Let him reflect on himself for a while. Then we’ll see.”

Tao Ruoqing had already spoken with Qi Xin that morning and knew the whole story.

Hearing this, she couldn’t help but sigh.

“You.” she said. “Aren’t you afraid young Qi will just leave?”

“Let him leave if he wants.” Ye Zhiqiu immediately pouted stubbornly. “Two-legged dogs are hard to find. Two-legged men are everywhere. Like I care?”

Tao Ruoqing: “…”

“You.” She stood up helplessly. “I’ll send the boy home to rest.”

“Really.” She looked at Ye Zhiqiu’s sulky cheeks, both doting and indulgent. “Every time, Mama has to clean up your messes.”

* * * *

At that moment, Qi Xin was still standing hopefully outside the Ye family gate.

All night, he’d struggled with himself, repeatedly rationalizing.

Though shivering from cold, his resentment toward Ye Zhiqiu had somewhat faded.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from sending nearly a hundred messages to Jiang Nan throughout the night.

Humble apologies, endless coaxing.

Just before dawn, Jiang Nan finally replied.

It was the only comfort Qi Xin received in that miserable winter night.

The gate opened again.

Qi Xin looked up excitedly.

But when he saw Tao Ruoqing, the light in his eyes died once more.

“You’ve really fallen for him, haven’t you?” Tao Ruoqing remarked pointedly.

Qi Xin didn’t respond.

Silently, he handed her a thermos.

“Thank you for the ginger tea this morning.”

Tao Ruoqing glanced back, then led Qi Xin a few steps away from the gate.

“He’s always been like this.” She smiled. “Now do you understand why I said you’d need more patience?”

“You said patience, not endurance,” Qi Xin replied.

“Is there a difference?” Tao Ruoqing laughed. “You don’t think that investment was just for you to have some romantic fling, do you? If that were all…”

She paused.

“With his looks, plenty of people would pay for the privilege.”

Qi Xin was speechless.

Seeing that the threat had landed, Tao Ruoqing softened her tone.

“Go home now. Don’t actually get sick. Otherwise, I couldn’t face your father.” She smiled warmly. “He’s just throwing a tantrum—can’t stand anyone defying him. Go about your business these next few days. He’ll come around soon enough.”

“Really?” Qi Xin sounded doubtful.

“He’s starved for affection.” Tao Ruoqing lowered her voice with a smile. “Once you can make him fall in love, you can mold him however you want. Isn’t that up to you?”

Qi Xin flexed his frozen, stiff fingers.

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

But at the same time, he felt a strange discomfort somewhere in his chest.

He took one last look into the Ye family courtyard, then opened his car door and got in.

* * * *

The film set was just outside the capital—less than two hours’ drive from the Ye residence.

On the way, Tao Ruoqing stopped to buy some food and supplies, ordering milk tea for the crew.

By the time they arrived, it was already noon.

Ye Zhixia had just finished a scene.

Probably a rain scene—his hair was soaking wet.

He was bent over, letting Uncle Wang dry it.

“That Xiao Yang, where did he go with the hairdryer?” Ye Zhixia shivered, snapping at Uncle Wang. “If he can’t do his job, fire him.”

“Yes, yes. Just hold still.” Uncle Wang bent over him, his eyes full of concern and indulgence.

Seeing this, Tao Ruoqing and Ye Zheng hurried over.

“What happened?” Tao Ruoqing asked anxiously.

“Madam.” Uncle Wang straightened up and handed the towel to Tao Ruoqing. “The wet hair scene was originally scheduled for this afternoon. But the director saw the good weather and moved it up to this morning.”

He added, “Xiao Yang’s already gone to get the hairdryer.”

Tao Ruoqing bent down, taking Uncle Wang’s place.

The concern in her eyes was almost identical to Uncle Wang’s—barely concealed.

“Wait in the car?” she suggested.

“Oh,” Ye Zhixia protested. “Uncle Wang said the same thing. But inside doesn’t feel as warm as out here in the sun.”

He looked up.

And saw Ye Zhiqiu.

Ye Zhiqiu stood in the sunlight, smiling at him.

But for some reason, meeting Ye Zhiqiu’s gaze made him feel even colder.

“What are you doing here?” Ye Zhixia asked.

He’d never liked Ye Zhiqiu visiting the set.

Ye Zhiqiu’s aura was too strong. He always overshadowed him, especially in an industry that valued appearance as much as entertainment.

Every time he came, Ye Zhixia’s presence diminished, sometimes vanishing entirely.

And this crew included his idol, Gao Wenye.

Just seeing Ye Zhiqiu annoyed him.

Ye Zhiqiu smiled.

For some reason, the image flashed through his mind of Uncle Wang waking up especially early on the day Ye Zhixia joined the crew, going to the market to buy fresh cherries for him.

Those cherries had been enormous, so vibrant—even watching from the third floor, he could imagine how sweet they must have been.

Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes curved.

“Missed you.”