Not even half a minute later, Zhou Yining reversed the car and pulled back into the lot. She stepped out, glanced at A-Ming, and said, “I’ve been drinking. Give me a lift, just drop me somewhere I can catch a ride.”

Before A-Ming could even react with surprise, she had already opened the passenger door and climbed in on her own.

As he started driving, Zhou Yining asked tentatively, “Has Dong-ge been staying around here lately?”

A-Ming nodded. “Yeah. It’s closer to the set. He’ll probably be living here for the next three months.”

Zhou Yining frowned. Should she postpone her move by three months? Just seeing his face every day on set was already enough of a test of patience. Did she really want to live close enough to run into him every time she opened her door?

A-Ming had originally intended to drive her all the way home, but Zhou Yining stopped him before they got too close.

“Park somewhere out of sight,” she said. “This is Ji Dongyang’s car. If you drop me off at home, tomorrow’s headlines will be all about how he’s ‘sleeping with a newbie actress.’”

A-Ming scratched his head, a little dazed. “Wouldn’t the headline be you clinging to Dong-ge for fame?”

Zhou Yining was momentarily speechless. She couldn’t even refute that, Ji Dongyang was a bonafide film emperor, and she? A total rookie without a single project aired. If rumors broke out, of course people would think she was trying to latch onto him.

She opened the door and got out, turning back to smile at A-Ming. “Don’t worry, I’m not clinging to him. And Ji Dongyang wouldn’t touch me even if I tried.”

With that, she slammed the door shut and strode off in heels without a second glance.

Back home, her aunt asked when she planned to move into her new place. Zhou Yining had originally intended to move after her wine cabinet was installed, but now… she hesitated.

Her aunt pulled out a traditional lunar calendar. “Didn’t you say you wanted to move this month? I checked a good date for you, September 28th. It’s an auspicious day for moving.”

September 28th… not far off now.

Zhou Yining thought about Ji Dongyang’s cold face and clenched her jaw. “Alright. I’ll move on the 28th.”

Who did he think he was, anyway? There was no way she was changing her life plans because of him.

The next morning, Zhou Yining arrived on set. The production coordinator informed her of a change in schedule. “Your scene with Dong-ge has been pushed to the day after tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Got it.”

While changing into costume, she overheard the makeup team chatting.

“Today’s Dong-ge’s 33rd birthday. The crew was going to throw him a party, the cake’s already been ordered, but he decided to skip it and attend a promo event for Redemption. There goes my chance at a feast.”

“You glutton! Dong-ge doesn’t celebrate his birthday often, right? Only if he happens to be filming during it.”

“He’s a Virgo, right? No wonder he’s such a perfectionist.”

Sitting before the vanity, Zhou Yining paused. So today was Ji Dongyang’s birthday? (INK HUB: A “vanity” (or vanity table) refers to a makeup station, usually consisting of a mirror, often surrounded by lights and a table where actors or performers sit to apply makeup. It’s a standard fixture in dressing rooms and film sets, especially in the entertainment industry.)

Thirty-three. That’s practically ancient.

She smiled faintly at her reflection. Her face was still bare, skin soft and youthful. But her eyes sharp, lively, sly, already shimmered with their own kind of brilliance.

Since the birthday boy was absent, the crew went ahead with the dinner party anyway. They couldn’t cancel the cake or the private room, after all. Photos from the gathering were later posted on the production team’s Weibo, tagging Ji Dongyang and wishing him a happy birthday.

This year marked the 18th anniversary of Ji Dongyang’s debut. His fan club, the Eastern Palace Support Union, compiled a retrospective of his career films, drama clips, highlight reels, all carefully curated and posted online.

Zhou Yining clicked on Weibo. Ji Dongyang’s name was plastered at the top of the trending list, along with his new movie Redemption.

She rarely paid attention to his work or the news in the past. Scrolling through the list of his filmography, she was surprised to see how many projects he had. She remembered catching a few of his dramas when she was younger, but after that incident at the birthday party, and because of Zhou Jiahui, she’d grown to dislike him.

Come to think of it… she’d never actually watched any of his films.

That night, lying in bed, she suddenly remembered the movie that won him his first Best Actor award. After a brief internal struggle, she opened the streaming app and searched for the film: Black & White, released five or six years ago.

Black & White was an anti-drug crime drama in which Ji Dongyang played a narcotics officer. The film made a huge impact when it aired, and Ji Dongyang earned his first major acting award because of it. But just as he stood at the pinnacle, scandal struck, and news broke that his parents had a history of drug use.

The incident caused an uproar. Some even called for him to return his trophy, claiming he didn’t deserve it. But somehow, the whole affair was quietly suppressed.

After receiving the award, Ji Dongyang disappeared for a few months. His agency claimed he’d gone abroad for further studies.

When he returned to the industry, he accepted a big-budget film. The following year, he won another Best Actor award, and his popularity soared once more. Over time, the scandal faded, and now, even when it was occasionally brought up, fans shut it down immediately. It had practically become a myth, something that never officially existed.

Zhou Yining stayed up until nearly dawn, finishing Black & White.

Tossing her iPad aside, she yanked the blanket over her head.

Damn it. What if I’m actually impressed by his acting?

No, no, absolutely not. That’s the first and last time. Never again.

Ji Dongyang returned to the set on the 24th. His presence immediately changed the atmosphere; everything felt more tense, more serious.

Today, Zhou Yining was filming a scene with him again, this time, a night scene.

The emperor had selected Consort Ning. In her chambers, she waited joyfully for his arrival.

Once night fell and the clapperboard snapped, the set fell into complete silence.

The bedroom was adorned in elegant, traditional décor. The air was filled with the warm scent of sandalwood. Red candles flickered gently.

Consort Ning wore a high bun and a scarlet ruqun dress with a low-cut bodice, her collarbone and pale skin softly illuminated. Her curves were full, her waist slender. She bowed gracefully, every movement fluid like water.

“Greetings, Your Majesty.”

The tall and imposing emperor extended a hand, helping her up. “Beloved consort, no need for such formality.”

Ning Fei looked up, her eyes dancing as she smiled sweetly. She gently took his arm and leaned in, voice honeyed. “Your Majesty, come sit over here. I’ve prepared some supper for you.”

Director Xu frowned as he stared at the monitor. He raised his hand and called out, “Cut!”

Zhou Yining immediately lowered her head, bracing for another scolding—only to hear:

“Dongyang, what’s with your hand? Why do you keep pulling away from her?”

Zhou Yining’s head shot up.

Huh? This was her first time seeing Ji Dongyang get NG’ed—and it was during a scene with her, a total newbie!

For some reason, she felt an inexplicable surge of joy. She really wanted to gloat.

Ji Dongyang paused for a second. “Director Xu, let’s go again.”

As he turned to walk away, Zhou Yining couldn’t help but tiptoe and whisper near his ear with smug satisfaction, “Film Emperor, looks like this time you’re the one who dragged me into an NG.”

Ji Dongyang stopped mid-step, looked down at her, and said coolly, “The scene didn’t call for you to rub your chest against me.”

With that, he turned and walked away without another word.

Zhou Yining stood frozen. Her face slowly turned red.

She stomped in his direction.

She was acting! What if their bodies touched a little—was that a crime?!
Big boobs are her fault now?!

Didn’t Director Xu just say Ji Dongyang was avoiding her? What was he dodging for?! It’s not like she’s a plague. Honestly, who was the one being taken advantage of here?

When they reshot the scene, Zhou Yining was clearly flustered. Her mood was completely thrown off, and she NG’ed repeatedly.

Director Xu lost his temper. “Zhou Yining, what is it now?! Get closer to him! You’re already sitting on his lap—what are you blushing for?!”

Zhou Yining frowned. “Director Xu, where exactly do you see me blushing? I’d blush in front of you before I’d blush in front of Ji Dongyang!”

Director Xu: “…”

Ji Dongyang gave her a sideways glance and let out a cold laugh.

Because of her antics, they had to pause shooting for thirty minutes.

They didn’t wrap until nearly 11 p.m., when Director Xu finally allowed the scene to pass.

He pointed furiously at her. “Zhou Yining! One more delay like this and I’ll start cutting your scenes!”

Zhou Yining mumbled, “Director Xu, aren’t you known for being impartial?”

Director Xu was already livid. He had never seen anyone as thick-skinned as this girl. Most actresses would be red-eyed and mortified after being scolded like this—some would even cry. But Zhou Yining? Like a damn wall. Not a blush. Not a tear.

He was starting to wonder if someone had switched her out after her audition.

“Out, out, out! You’re done for today. No scenes for you tomorrow!”

Zhou Yining nodded sheepishly and went off to remove her makeup and change.

Late autumn nights were chilly. Wearing a long dress, Zhou Yining walked briskly toward the parking lot. The wind tugged at her skirt and hair, sending both flying in all directions.

Annoyed, she grabbed her skirt and tied a knot above her thigh to keep it in place.

Problem solved.

Just then, a teasing voice rang out behind her. “Yining, which designer’s latest look is that?”

She turned around and saw Zhou Wei approaching with Ji Dongyang. Their assistants followed behind. Zhou Yining glanced down at her skirt—now knotted and hiked up to reveal a long, pale leg.

She smiled. “Limited edition—my own design.”

Zhou Wei raised an eyebrow. “Not bad. If someone actually released that style, I’d buy it.”

Ji Dongyang’s gaze swept over Zhou Yining’s bare, slender legs. He said to Zhou Wei, “I’m heading off first.”

Zhou Wei waved him goodbye.

Zhou Yining muttered, “Wei-jie, don’t you feel a little cold?”

Zhou Wei pulled her cardigan tighter and looked at her exposed legs under the moonlight. “You’re dressed like that. Of course you’re cold.”

Zhou Yining replied, “I wasn’t cold before. But as soon as Ji Dongyang showed up—I got chills.”

Zhou Wei: “…”

What kind of weird logic was that? She couldn’t keep up.

Zhou Yining turned and beamed at her. “I’m heading off. Bye-bye!”

She drove off, quickly spotting a black Mercedes ahead. With practiced ease, she changed lanes and sped past it.

Inside the Mercedes, A-Ming muttered, “Miss Zhou drives a little aggressively, huh?”

In the backseat, Ji Dongyang remained still, eyes covered with an eye mask, not making a sound.

A-Ming figured he’d fallen asleep and turned off the radio.

September 28th, the auspicious day marked on the calendar—Zhou Yining moved.

She’d come to B City to escape a marriage, so she didn’t have much luggage. Besides the new clothes and shoes she’d accumulated, she only had two large suitcases.

The Qin family’s driver helped carry her things inside. “Miss Yining, do you need anything else?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s all. Thank you. You can head back.”

Just as she escorted him to the door and was about to close it, she spotted Ji Dongyang and his agent, Yang Xun, stepping out of the elevator.

Their eyes met.

Zhou Yining smiled. “Dong-ge, Yang-ge.”

Yang Xun blinked in surprise when he saw her at the door. “You live here?”

She nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

Yang Xun turned to look at Ji Dongyang. Why didn’t you mention this?

Ji Dongyang gave her a bland glance.

Zhou Yining curved her lips in a half-smile. “I still have to unpack. You guys go ahead.”

With that, she turned and closed the door.

INK HUB: Sorry guys for the late posting i have been busy but i’ll try to post at least 2 to 3 Chapters a week.