Chapter 7: Safe Distance – Beijing Nobility

Though the silent criticism remained unspoken, Ye Yansheng could guess it. He raised an eyebrow, Even if it wasn’t pleasant, there’s no need to turn hostile afterward, is there?

There was a contradictory sense of frivolity and gloom about him.

Normally appearing cold and arrogant, keeping people at arm’s length as someone not to be trifled with; yet when he smiled like this, he seemed lazy and dissolute, no different from those spoiled young masters.

Having played around enough, he probably felt somewhat intrigued.

Was he using her as amusement?

Xie Qingman let out a soft oh and produced a dagger from behind her back, its cold gleam like snow. If our positions were reversed, could you be so tolerant?

The thin blade sliced through the air, its back edge sweeping upward.

Ye Yansheng reacted faster than she expected, striking like lightning at her wrist to dissipate the incoming force. The moment the hilt returned to his grasp, he pressed his palm downward, sheathing the dagger.

With the hilt now reversed, he pressed it against Xie Qingman’s neck.

Ye Yansheng chuckled lightly, I thought you knew how to assess situations. Turns out you’re just unwilling to accept defeat.

He had assumed she was simply afraid last time.

Now it seemed she only refrained because direct confrontation was hopeless. Given the right opportunity, she’d dare consider how to retaliate.

She truly refused to suffer any loss.

Sharp weapons have no eyes and can easily harm their wielder. Ye Yansheng used the hilt to lift her chin, his tone deathly gentle, You’re not suited for playing with such dangerous things.

In their exchange, the two had nearly pressed against each other.

Though it was clearly a close-quarters confrontation, the situation had shifted so rapidly that to outsiders, it resembled flirtation.

Damn, what scene is this?

Hero saving beauty turned into forcibly seizing a civilian girl? Someone nudged Pei Ze with an elbow and clicked their tongue, This girl’s fierce enough to pull a blade.

How would I know? Pei Ze was equally surprised inside. His gaze fell on Xie Qingman as he slightly furrowed his brows.

Xie Qingman seemed to have finally given up her intentions, now looking coldly at Ye Yansheng, You should keep those words for self-encouragement.

That gun from that night was just a model, a burial memento without lethal capability. Ye Yansheng rarely bothered to explain patiently, Just a misunderstanding.

He released her and returned the dagger intact, Yours is truly—

When his eyes fell upon this miniature dagger, his figure paused slightly before he suddenly smiled, Was this gifted by a friend?

It was a close-combat short blade – a Butterfly SOCP.

A short version with full-serrated single edge, single blood groove, and full-tang blade design. The end featured a quick-draw ring resembling a keychain that could secure around the knuckles for better grip, preventing the weapon from being disarmed. Originally designed for the Special Operations Combatives Program, now also used outdoors.

This particular piece appeared to be a hand-polished limited edition, with engraved lettering on the hilt:

Spencerian script letters, already worn beyond recognition.

It wouldn’t look out of place as a pendant.

And Xie Qingman indeed carried it as one.

She retrieved her possession from his hand without answering his question, instead retorting, I used the back of the blade. It also lacks lethal capability.

With its thin blade and thick spine design, only the edge was sharp.

As she spoke, someone hurried up from the first floor and whispered a few words to Ye Yansheng.

It seemed something had happened.

Ye Yansheng waved his hand without giving a definite response, instead turning to Xie Qingman: Where to later? I’ll have someone drive you.

The boundary between light and shadow fell sharply across his features, accentuating his prominent brow bone and making his facial contours appear more profound and somber. He gazed at her thoughtfully, though no one could tell what was on his mind.

I can go by myself, Xie Qingman replied with a smile—the kind that was clearly forced. Having been thoroughly suppressed for too long, she seemed to be reaching her limit.

—

When Ye Yansheng said he would arrange a ride for her, there was no room for refusal. Right in front of her, he called out Pei Ze in an indisputable tone—a gesture that appeared consultative but was, in fact, a directive.

By the time they exited the club, a black Bentley had pulled up alongside the curb. The driver held the door open, and the young man named Pei Ze was already waiting for her.

Get in. I’ll take you.

Xie Qingman declined, but he paid no heed.

That won’t do. If Second Brother gave the order, I have to follow through, Pei Ze, ever shrewd, seized the opportunity to press further. Besides, this car is his. I’ve already had it brought over. If I don’t see you home safely, how am I supposed to report back?

Seeing her hesitate, he remained unfazed and simply smiled. You strike me as an intelligent person. You must realize that today isn’t the day to go back alone.

He was right.

The trouble earlier had been resolved so swiftly only because others feared Ye Yansheng’s influence. But after today, who could guarantee what might happen later? So, sending her home—even if just for show—would effectively deter any further unwanted attention.

Xie Qingman had no reason to refuse. Then I’ll trouble you.

The ride passed in silence.

Inside the car, the faint, warm scent of California laurel lingered—deep and comforting. Compared to the Koenigsegg back in Hong Kong, this Bentley, in both price and license plate, was far more understated. Still, its specifications were high-end, and the interior had been custom-modified.

Out of consideration for Ye Yansheng, Pei Ze remained courteous throughout. Only as they neared the destination did he suddenly ask, If I may be so bold, where are you from, Miss Xie? It seems to me that you and Second Brother are old acquaintances.

He hinted deliberately, If he hadn’t had matters to attend to, I doubt it would’ve fallen to me to escort you today.

How cleverly put.

The playful curiosity in his words was indeed presumptuous, but the latter half came off as considerate—explaining why Ye Yansheng hadn’t taken her himself, as if wary of the possibility that she and Ye might share a certain kind of relationship.

Hong Kong, Xie Qingman replied, feigning ignorance of the subtext. She offered a mild, detached smile. But it seems you’ve misunderstood, Young Master Pei. We don’t know each other.

Pei Ze chuckled ambiguously.

Of course he didn’t believe her.

If they were truly strangers, Ye Yansheng’s arrangements would have been excessively thorough. But there was no need to dig deeper.

Xie Qingman had no interest in small talk either. She turned slightly to gaze out the window and felt something press against her. Groping around, she found a wooden box on the back seat.

At the center of the sandalwood box was engraved the imprint of Baolian, with the characters Tanzhe Temple inscribed in clerical script at the bottom—likely an item blessed at the temple. Beneath it lay an invitation in the form of a folded scroll, for the upcoming three-day International Dharma Assembly the following week.

Without a flicker of expression, Xie Qingman placed the items back where they were.

The car had already entered the campus. Pei Ze took the chance to glance at her once more as he asked, Shall we stop here?

Xie Qingman nodded. The dormitory isn’t far from here.

The moment the words fell, Pei Ze, who had just turned his head away, abruptly twisted it back.

He stared at her blankly for a moment before exclaiming Damn in surprise. So it was you last time on Barker Road.

What? Xie Qingman didn’t catch his meaning.

Months earlier, at the villa on Barker Road.

When she came downstairs, she hadn’t noticed the car parked outside, let alone realized someone was inside.

Living together and still pretending not to know each other? Pei Ze watched her like she was entertainment. What’s today’s act? Little sister, did you two have a fight? Quite creative with your tantrums…

Xie Qingman lowered her eyelids, her expression neutral. You’re overthinking it.

There was no point explaining. It wouldn’t get through anyway.

These young masters surrounded by flowers never lacked stunning beauties – they’d seen plenty of people with ulterior motives.

Being overly cautious or humble in this situation would only come across as flattery, confirming his contemptuous assumptions.

How ridiculous.

And Xie Qingman wasn’t one to indulge him either.

Before Pei Ze could add insult to injury, she opened the car door and offered a mild, distant smile:

As you said, if I had intentions, the person seeing me home today wouldn’t be Young Master Pei.

Pei Ze was thoroughly choked by her retort.

Unfortunately, with Ye Yansheng’s warning hanging over him, he dared not voice his anger. Besides, he didn’t even have time to rebut.

Xie Qingman had already stepped out of the car.

The warm air enveloping her dissipated as cold wind rushed into her collar. She looked up – winter dusk was closing in, the light dim, everything appearing austere and desolate.

Only when the Bentley behind her drove away and disappeared into the twilight did Xie Qingman slow her pace.

She crumpled the ballet ticket stub in her hand, folded it twice, and tossed it into a roadside trash bin.

Among Beijing’s elite, only the surname Ye carried such prominence.

She knew this perfectly well.

The dorm room was quiet.

A standard four-person room, all occupants from the same major.

One roommate, Gu Rao, had become an overnight sensation since enrollment – her face alone could trend online. Now with her schedule nearly fully booked, she rarely returned. Last month another moved out, leaving only her and Xi Jin in the dorm.

Truth be told, Gu Rao had stolen nearly all the spotlight from their year. Not every newcomer in the entertainment industry was fortunate enough to land lead roles immediately – it required luck, resources, and talent all at once. Most remained obscure.

So the majority continued attending specialized courses routinely, getting information and paying their own way to audition at film sets.

Back so early? Xi Jin leaned out to look.

Still need to finish the final paper for Introduction to Art. Just wrapping up. Xie Qingman set down her chain bag.

Do you have to work so hard? The deadline isn’t for another two weeks. Xi Jin continued browsing audition notices. Forget it, I’ll work on my paper too. Looked at so many roles – either basically pre-cast or timing doesn’t work out.

Xie Qingman, leaning back in her chair, turned around and rested her arms on the backrest, chin propped on them.

After watching for a while, she smiled. The audition in West Beijing next Saturday works. We don’t have classes Friday anyway – book a flight over, we can make it the next day.

But this is for a TV drama. Xi Jin was blunt. And it’s a major original IP – the female lead is probably already pre-cast.

The entertainment industry had its hierarchy – film circles looking down on television circles was practically an iron rule.

For IPs with high popularity, newcomers can typically only audition for third, fourth, or fifth-tier roles, and even landing a supporting female role is quite challenging. If one starts with minor roles in TV dramas as well, future opportunities will become even scarcer.

Might as well give it a try since it’s not finalized yet, Xie Qingman searched for the script and production team details.

Contending for the Throne is a historical political intrigue drama, with court conflicts as the overt plot and an 18-year-old Huizhou secret as the underlying thread. The ensemble cast features distinct characters engaged in open and covert struggles, dominating the scene, while themes of familial and national loyalty elevate the narrative. The female lead embodies ambition, strategizing step by step yet maintaining her moral boundaries. It traces the growth of a young emperor and empress—from vying for power and fulfilling mutual needs to achieving a harmonious resolution—standing out notably among this year’s idol dramas.

As long as the screenwriter avoids poorly written, simplistic romantic subplots, it’s worth auditioning for, especially since Jingxia Media’s productions tend to lean toward serious dramas.

After booking her flight ticket, Xie Qingman searched for nearby hotels.

The audition location was somewhat remote, mostly consisting of guesthouses and inns. The travel notes recommended by the app were also few and far between.

Apart from the Baqi Cave, the rest were all temple check-in spots.

Are you going to pray for blessings? Xi Jin’s voice suddenly chimed in, Why not go to Yonghe Temple instead? I heard it’s very efficacious.

Xie Qingman was caught off guard and nearly jumped.

She hadn’t noticed when Xi Jin had approached, nor how she had unconsciously started browsing the Tanzhe Temple page—as if compelled by some unseen force.

No, Xie Qingman closed the page, her expression calm, I just clicked on it after seeing the recommendation. The audition venue is nearby.

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