A single man and a single woman, on a dark and windy night, drinking together?

The crucial thing was, Dong-ge would actually drink with a woman? He had never heard of that!

This was a lot of information, and A Ming was already automatically filling in many indescribable scenarios. Should he tell Brother Yang about this? Just as he was pondering, he heard Ji Dongyang’s icy warning: “Control your mouth. Don’t talk nonsense.”

A Ming immediately straightened his back. “Yes, sir.”

There was something going on! Wait, hadn’t the “little devil” always looked down on Dong-ge? Dong-ge didn’t seem to like her either, so why were they drinking together?

Ji Dongyang ruthlessly interrupted his mental elaborations, tapping his finger on the desk. “Coffee.”

A Ming glanced at Ji Dongyang’s cold profile, not daring to ask any more questions, and went off to brew coffee, cup in hand.

In the afternoon, someone posted behind-the-scenes photos of the morning’s scene on Weibo. The blogger claimed that Zhou Yining’s acting wasn’t as bad as previously stated. Today’s scene passed on the first take. They argued that yesterday’s criticism was too harsh, as everyone has an off-day.

In short, the entire Weibo post was clearly meant to whitewash Zhou Yining’s image. Zhou Yining read through it, guessing that Wan Wei had arranged it, or perhaps the crew did. After all, she was being torn apart before her scenes were even fully shot, and many fans were already doubting the quality of the drama.

Ji Dongyang hadn’t taken on a TV drama in years, focusing instead on films. Taiping Dynasty was a major, high-quality production that Hua Chen had been preparing for years. Otherwise, given his status, he wouldn’t have agreed to film a TV series.

Zhou Yining finished her scenes in the afternoon. Ji Dongyang’s schedule was always packed; sometimes, he was stuck on set from morning till night.

She changed her clothes and was about to leave when she noticed A Ming standing there. She paused and walked over to him.

A Ming saw Zhou Yining approaching and couldn’t help but ask, “What is it, Miss Zhou?”

Zhou Yining stood next to him, lowered her voice, and asked, “What time will Ji Dongyang be back tonight?”

A Ming: “It should be after 10 p.m. before he finishes.”

“Wait, why are you asking? Do you really want to drink with Dong-ge?”

Zhou Yining replied coolly, “Why not? It’s not like I’m asking you.”

A Ming: “…”

Zhou Yining gave a slight humph. “I’m going back first.”

Zhou Yining finished her bath early, sprayed some perfume on her wrist, and inhaled it. She sat in her living room, calculating the time of Ji Dongyang’s return. She prepared the wine, setting it on the table, and left her door slightly ajar, ready to dash out the moment she heard noise outside.

She sat in front of her computer, opened her browser, and searched for Ji Dongyang’s name for the first time.

Height 186 cm, weight 74 kg, born in H City, entered the entertainment industry at 15. When he was 15, I was only 5. Thinking of this, Zhou Yining couldn’t help but smile. She could practically call him Uncle.

His list of works was long; the number of television dramas and films he had starred in combined was more than her age.

Ji Dongyang’s acting career wasn’t entirely smooth, either. Five years ago, after winning his first Movie King award, he entered his first slump.

In his earlier years, there were many rumors of romance, but most were just that—rumors. Of course, some were real. Ji Dongyang was 33, and men his age were rarely completely without relationship experience, unless they were too ugly.

But the relationships were always short. Zhou Yining smiled at the computer screen. She was probably right—people couldn’t stand his coldness.

Her mouse slid quickly down the page when she suddenly heard voices outside.

Zhou Yining immediately stood up and ran toward the door. Just as she was about to pull it open, she heard Ji Dongyang’s voice, colder than ice: “This is none of my business. I said that if you didn’t change your ways, I wouldn’t interfere again.”

Zhou Yining’s hand gripped the door, frozen behind it. No matter how cold Ji Dongyang was usually, he never spoke with such a chillingly indifferent tone. Sometimes his aloofness was just a façade; he was generally kind to people. Otherwise, A Ming wouldn’t be so protective of him, and his fans wouldn’t have loved him for so many years.

She wanted to listen longer, but then, Bang— The door next door slammed shut.

Judging by his tone, he seemed to be in a very bad mood.

Zhou Yining rested her chin on her hand, pondered for a moment, and returned to her seat for a while. Then, she retrieved two bottles of wine from her wine cabinet.

The late autumn night was cold. Zhou Yining shivered while standing outside his door. After waiting for nearly ten minutes, the door finally opened.

Ji Dongyang was wearing black athletic pants and a black short-sleeved T-shirt, a white towel draped around his neck. His black hair was slightly damp, and sweat was trickling down. Even his toned forearms were glistening with sweat.

His gaze was still cold, bearing a few extra degrees of impatience and irritation than usual.

Zhou Yining was surprised. “You’re running?”

It was almost midnight. Wasn’t exercising at this hour a bad idea?

Ji Dongyang glanced at the wine in her arms and gave a cold “Mm.” He looked up at her. “If you’re looking for someone to drink with, go back. I won’t keep you company.”

Seeing that he was about to close the door, Zhou Yining quickly squeezed in. “Wait.”

Her feet were already inside the door. She pushed in too fast, and her cheek brushed against his sweaty arm. She blinked, her long lashes sweeping his skin. She touched the sweat on her cheek and looked up at him. “I’ll only stay for twenty minutes. You’re not sleeping anyway.”

Ji Dongyang frowned. Zhou Yining insisted, “Just twenty minutes.”

He dropped his hand from the doorframe, turned, and walked away, tossing out one sentence: “Suit yourself.”

Zhou Yining grinned, following behind him. He walked into the master bedroom and turned right, about to enter the bathroom, when he suddenly turned back to look at her, a hint of mockery in his smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Are you going to follow me there too?”

That smile was so frigid. Zhou Yining pouted, realized her faux pas, and turned to leave.

Putting down the wine bottles, Zhou Yining slipped on the sweater he had left on the sofa. She wandered around his apartment. Only one room door was open. She walked over to look inside and saw a treadmill and some simple fitness equipment. Zhou Yining recalled the scene in the movie Black and White where Ji Dongyang was shirtless. His physique truly was superb.

Ji Dongyang came out of the shower to find her already sitting on the carpet, drinking.

She was even skipping the glasses, drinking straight from the bottle.

He dried his hair while checking his phone, treating her like air.

Zhou Yining stood up and walked over to him. “You’re in a bad mood tonight.”

He looked down at her, his dark eyes slightly narrowed, and reminded her, “The twenty minutes are up.”

Driving her away so quickly. Zhou Yining pouted and stayed put. Ji Dongyang didn’t bother to chase her out, turning directly back to the bedroom. “If you want to stay here, then stay.”

Zhou Yining let out a muffled scoff and disdainfully said, “I’m going back.”

She walked out decisively. Ji Dongyang stood at the bedroom door and looked back.

The girl slammed his front door loudly—

The filming of Peaceful Dynasty reached its final stages in November. On this day, the crew opened up for interviews.

Microphones from various media outlets were aimed at Ji Dongyang, Zhou Wei, and Jing Xin. Questions were fired one after another, and Ji Dongyang answered smoothly. Zhou Yining stood to his right, ignored by the reporters. She was bored, resting her chin on her hand and looking away.

“Dong-ge, the video of Zhou Yining losing control and crying while hugging you is still being discussed by fans. Netizens want to ask you a question: Were you truly impatient at the time?”

Zhou Yining: “…”

She thought this matter had been settled. What was wrong with these reporters!

Could they stop bringing this up?!

Zhou Yining glared at the reporter, then looked at Ji Dongyang. His expression was calm. “No, I just didn’t know what to do.”

Zhou Wei, standing next to him, laughed heartily. “Look at him. Do you think he knows how to comfort girls?”

This made the reporters chuckle. Someone said, “No.”

Zhou Wei continued to laugh. “That wasn’t impatience; that was helplessness, okay?”

Ji Dongyang subtly frowned.

With the topic open, one reporter finally remembered Zhou Yining. “Miss Zhou, could you tell us about your feelings at the time? How did you… ahem… cry so uncontrollably?”

Zhou Yining wanted to flip the table. She didn’t want to answer this question at all.

She was silent for a few seconds, then smiled. “I don’t remember.”

“…”

Jing Xin quickly intervened. “She was in a bad mood that day, personal reasons. You can ask something else.”

The reporters looked at Zhou Yining and asked a few random questions. “Then why do you like carrying a bag of cash?”

Zhou Yining smiled. “Initially, it made me feel secure. Later, it became a habit.”

Being rich means you can be willful. Unlike them, even if they wanted to carry a bag of cash, they had to have that much first.

The interview ended.

Jing Xin spoke earnestly to Zhou Yining. “When you answer questions in front of reporters, be more diplomatic. Otherwise, they’ll write nonsense, calling you aloof or something.”

Zhou Yining pursed her lips. “Mm, I’ll pay attention next time.”

Jing Xin was about to say more, but the assistant director called her away.

That evening, driving home, Zhou Yining watched the car ahead of her and followed slowly.

A Ming looked in the rear-view mirror, slightly surprised. “The little devil didn’t try to pass us today.”

Ji Dongyang rested his hand on his head, glanced into the mirror. It was rare, indeed, for her to drive so obediently.

The two cars drove into the complex, one after the other.

Zhou Yining got out of her car and, in her high heels, followed closely behind Ji Dongyang, entering the elevator one step behind him.

“You really don’t know how to comfort girls?”

Ji Dongyang found it somewhat amusing. “What do you think?”

They stepped out of the elevator and walked to their doors.

Zhou Yining suddenly grabbed him, her smile very sweet. “I don’t need comforting. Just like that day—a little pat on the head and a hug can soothe me.”

Ji Dongyang looked down at her, his voice calm. “Is that so? If that’s the case, why did you show up at my place with a bottle of wine that night? You were clearly planning to stay, which is far from being ‘that simple,’ as you put it.”

He exposed her without mercy, then suddenly turned, staring directly into her eyes.

Zhou Yining’s heart skipped a beat. The next moment, she lifted her head to meet his gaze.