Qiu Mian did not patrol the dreamscape afterward. He had drunk far too much alcohol that night, and his state was indeed suboptimal. If Jiuying had not controlled the majority of the dream owner’s consciousness, going in directly would have required a fair bit of effort from him. Naturally, he rarely used that method.
The drunkenness had paralyzed his brain. By the time he woke up again, it was already eight in the morning. Having rested well through the night, not only did he lack the headache of a hangover, but his mental state was actually even better.
Though he felt a momentary regret for falling fast asleep when he unlocked his phone and saw one hundred and twenty-five unread messages.
Upon closer inspection, one of them belonged to Wen Yi, four belonged to Director Mai, and the remaining hundred and twenty all belonged to his assistant, Wei Pu.
Wen Yi and Director Mai’s messages were simple inquiries; Mai Xundao had stopped messaging after getting the situation from Assistant Chen. Wei Pu’s progression of messages, however, was far more complex. First came the inquiry about whether he had arrived home, followed by reaching out to Director Mai after receiving no response multiple times, then contacting Liang Rui, and immediately afterward pinging him every ten minutes to ask if he had woken up. By the end, he was growing increasingly hysterical, practically on the verge of fainting right inside Qiu Mian’s phone.
[Mianmian! Why are you staying overnight outside? Are you really there of your own free will?]
[Mianmian! It’s been three hours and you’re still not awake? I asked Brother Liang and he said the dream has already been resolved!]
[Mianmian! Hang in there! I called an interstate taxi and I’m coming right now! If you need to call the police, preserve the evidence and tell me! I’m rushing over immediately!]
Qiu Mian: “?”
Just what kind of scenarios had he conjured up in his head?
Qiu Mian couldn’t be bothered to listen to any more voice messages, so he directly called Wei Pu back. Wei Pu answered instantly: “Mianmian, I’ve arrived, where are you? Security won’t let me in, just say the word and I’ll charge right through!”
“It’s fine.”
Only then did Qiu Mian look around the room he had been carried into during his dream-traveling stint. Similar to the exterior decor of Guyi Building, it featured a neo-Chinese style full of classic charm yet unlacking in luxury. The bed and coffee table were made of solid wood, calligraphy and landscape paintings hung on the walls, a bamboo-branch screen partitioned the interior from the exterior, and the bathroom featured an embedded ink-stone bathtub. Pulling back the curtains revealed the cloud-veiled mountain scenery right outside.
It was quite high-spec. As Qiu Mian walked outward, he glanced at the room number, a pleasant ci poetry title.
“We’ll talk back at the office. I’m coming down.”
“R-really fine?”
“What did you expect?”
“Director Mai said you and Shao Zhonghui had some sort of dispute, and on top of you not answering messages all night, I was just really worried!”
Oh, Shao Zhonghui. He had already forgotten about this person; unimportant.
Turning left and right, Qiu Mian wandered around at random. The prattling voice on the phone had never stopped, rambling back and forth for who knows how long until Wei Pu finally couldn’t help asking with a hint of hesitation: “Mianmian, are you actually coming down?”
This ghost of a place without directional signs.
After strolling aimlessly for a long time, Qiu Mian finally spotted a familiar staircase at another turn, wondering why on earth this place didn’t even have a single elevator. Just as he was about to walk past, a sound drifted down from the top of the stairs, where two people were slowly descending.
“Postpone the morning meeting. I’m going for a checkup.”
“Understood, President Chi. Health comes first.”
“Don’t tell Mom.”
“Understood. What about President Yao?”
“If he asks, tell him the truth. In addition—”
The voice paused abruptly. Qiu Mian didn’t rush off either; he raised his head to look, finding the speaker’s figure somewhat familiar.
Qiu Mian first nodded in acknowledgment to the other young man in a suit standing nearby: “Thanks for the hospitality.”
This was one of the reasons he didn’t directly ignore them.
With that, Qiu Mian shifted his gaze slightly, letting it rest on the owner of this clubhouse instead, and asked, “Do I need to pay a fee?”
Chi Jianying lowered his head to look at Qiu Mian, who was standing a few steps below him, and took a gentle breath, just like when they had bumped into each other yesterday.
He glanced at his assistant, and Chen Xing chimed in with a timely explanation: “I haven’t had time to report this yet. This gentleman couldn’t quite hold his liquor yesterday, so I arranged for him to rest in Zhegutian.”
“Mn,” Chi Jianying spoke slowly. “Retro mountain-view peach-blossom suite, ninety-eight thousand a night. Pay at the front desk.”
“Damn!” Wei Pu swore an oath over the phone, his curse ringing and robust.
After a brief silence, Qiu Mian conveniently hung up the call.
Chi Jianying heard it, but said nothing. He flicked the trench coat draped over his arm and corrected himself: “This time it’s on the house. No next time. Stop always thinking about taking shortcuts.”
Shortcuts? Qiu Mian, who had been completely disoriented twice by the complex layout, asked sincerely for guidance: “Where are the shortcuts?”
Chi Jianying remained wordless, only gazing coldly at him. Qiu Mian couldn’t tell where his line of sight was landing, so he just followed the direction of his gaze, completely ignoring the person standing right in the middle and instead focusing on the window behind him: “Do you want me to open the window and jump down?”
“You…” Thinking it was a threat of self-harm, Chi Jianying instinctively took a few steps forward, stopping only when he saw Qiu Mian made no move. “What are you talking about!”
Can’t even make himself clear. Troublesome.
Qiu Mian couldn’t be bothered to dwell on the whereabouts of the “shortcuts” any longer and simply walked downstairs to leave: “I’ll settle the bill.”
Until Qiu Mian had completely departed, Chi Jianying still felt utterly bewildered: “Who is he?”
Chen Xing replied: “Qiu Mian, Qiu as in autumn, Mian as in immunity. Twenty-four years old, an artist under Duo Yi Media. A former model with an extremely clean resume, no past history can be found.”
Chi Jianying frowned: “How did he sneak in?”
“Yesterday, the crew of Youth in Spring Clothes had their gathering in Tianjingsha. He is the third male lead in the drama, and Shao Zhonghui is one of the investors, so he accidentally joined the dinner party,” Chen Xing added. “I ran into their director later, and he said Qiu Mian drank President Shao under the table, then went out to catch some breeze, got lost, and probably only bumped into you by coincidence. He shouldn’t be one of those sleazy types from the past few times who clung on trying to recommend themselves to your bed.”
“Getting lost, he can even come up with an excuse like that.”
Though he said that, Chi Jianying’s expression eased up slightly. He walked slowly down the stairs and glanced down at the ground floor through the banister.
“If someone lacks a sense of direction, it is indeed possible.” Chen Xing smiled on the surface while his thoughts raced, abruptly pivoting the conversation: “There’s also a coincidental matter. Jiang Sheng from Group D happens to be competing with him for the same role.”
It sounded like a fair and merit-based selection, but how could Chi Jianying not know the underlying tricks? He found it absurd: “They’re fighting over a role for such a small-time nobody? Does the company have no money left to bankroll projects?”
“Group D just started operating. No matter how fast their filings, casting, and props are, it will take a month or two to finalize. This is the project among Sansheng’s holdings that can get him onto a set the fastest, and the character has an outstanding persona, which benefits Jiang Sheng’s public image building.”
After explaining, Chen Xing asked: “Perhaps operations have their own considerations. Should we give them a heads-up?”
Chi Jianying was silent for a moment: “No need. Getting results as quickly as possible is what matters most.”
After circling around several times, Qiu Mian finally managed to drive out of the parking lot under a security guard’s guidance, picking up his assistant, Wei Pu, who was squatting outside the main gate with his arms wrapped around his knees.
“Mianmian! You’re finally out! Are you okay?”
“No.”
“That’s good. Let me drive!”
“Denied. You haven’t slept all night, I don’t want an accident.”
“Aren’t I just worried! If you had gone to some ordinary restaurant, fine, but look at this ghost of a place…” Wei Pu had called an interstate taxi in the middle of the night, driving all the way out here to the suburban mountainside; goodness knows how much extra he had to pay the driver to agree. “Built in the middle of nowhere, ridiculously huge grounds, security guards practically stationed every five steps, a mysterious private clubhouse. Who knows if they run special services, and it cost ninety-eight thousand. By the way, you didn’t actually pay, right?”
Qiu Mian tilted his head to stare at the GPS, zooming his fingertips in and out, and said offhandedly, “There’s no record in the system. The front desk refused it.”
“Good, good.”
“But I left my watch behind.”
“Which one?”
Qiu Mian recalled its origin: “The male lead gave it to me when we filmed Triple Dissection last year.”
Wei Pu almost stopped breathing: “That resale value is over three hundred thousand yuan!”
Qiu Mian turned the steering wheel indifferently and pressed down on the gas pedal. He didn’t care for watches and usually only wore a smart sports watch. Aside from a few classic, versatile pieces among his inventory, most of his collection came from gifts given by others, and he didn’t care whether he had them or not. If he hadn’t needed temporary accessories, Qiu Mian might have just left the car behind instead.
“That could have prepaid another two days…” Unable to let it go, Wei Pu couldn’t help asking, “Who was that asking you for money just now? The manager?”
“Chi Jianying.”
“Ah, how did you recognize him?”
“We bumped into each other yesterday,” Qiu Mian briefly evaluated. “He talks in a really weird way.”
Or maybe you just misunderstood… Wei Pu thought to himself, though out loud he supported him: “People say he’s mentally unstable, so of course he’s weird.”
“Is that so.”
Qiu Mian lazily reminisced. It seemed he was a bit that way, failing to recognize roads and failing to speak clearly, though not terribly so. If that counted as being mentally unstable…
“Mianmian, it looks like you’re driving in the wrong direction.”
Qiu Mian looked straight ahead, steadily gripping the steering wheel: “Just taking a shortcut.”