After everyone had finished taking their individual photos, they waited for quite a while before the other two guests finally arrived, fashionably late.
“Sorry to keep everyone waiting!”
The two walked in together—none other than Ji Lingkai and Xiao Ke, the male and female leads of the currently trending costume drama.
Ji Lingkai was relatively new to the scene, but Xiao Ke had been in the industry for a few years, though she had never quite managed to break through to stardom.
She had a fresh, sweet appearance, but in an entertainment industry crowded with beautiful women, she wasn’t particularly distinctive.
Unexpectedly, fortune smiled on her this time—the low-budget costume drama that no one had high hopes for turned out to be the dark horse of the summer season.
The two were all sweetness and affection on screen, and off screen they were even more relentless in feeding fans sugar.
Not long ago, paparazzi had even snapped photos of the two having a meal together in private, but neither party had responded to the rumors.
Their CP fans were eating it all up, constantly urging the pair to go public in the fan community, keeping the buzz at an all-time high.
The production team had clearly invited them for this very reason—to capitalize on their recent trending topic.
Xiao Ke had been leaning snugly against Ji Lingkai, but as her gaze swept across the studio and landed on Jiang Li, she frowned slightly.
Her eyes traveled upward, and she was so startled that her eyes flew wide open.
That was… Shang Chi?
How was that possible?
Wasn’t he supposed to never appear on variety shows?
Before arriving here, Xiao Ke had thought Ji Lingkai was handsome enough, no less than the well-known young actors in the industry.
She’d figured it wouldn’t hurt to stir up some CP buzz with him, or even let the act become real.
But now, standing before this man, the difference was immediately apparent.
Setting aside their respective status in the industry, whether it was looks, presence, or the innate aristocratic air about him, Ji Lingkai couldn’t hold a candle to him.
Though she hadn’t forgotten her company’s instructions to play up her on-screen partnership with Ji Lingkai, she still instinctively put a little distance between herself and him.
She raised a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, revealing the sweetest smile she had practiced countless times.
Xiao Ke’s gaze landed on Shang Chi with a feigned casualness.
“I’m really sorry—I didn’t expect everyone at today’s building event to be so enthusiastic, so we ended up running a bit late.”
Jiang Li, who had sat in front of Shang Chi during their freshman year of high school, was all too familiar with that look in Xiao Ke’s eyes.
Back then, when she sat in front of Shang Chi, girls from their own grade and other grades alike would always find excuses to walk past their classroom during breaks, pretending to be nonchalant as they cast glances inside.
—But most of the time, it was like casting pearls before swine.
Because the moment class ended, all anyone could see was the back of Shang Chi’s head as he lay sleeping on his desk.
And even then, he couldn’t sleep still. One hand would be propped under his face, while the other stretched out ridiculously far. Sometimes, without realizing it, she’d lean back against her chair and accidentally brush against him.
And even then, this dog would have the audacity to blame her first, claiming she’d woken him up.
At the thought, she couldn’t help but turn her head to look behind her.
A deliberately lowered, lazy voice came from behind at just the right moment. “Looking for me?”
Jiang Li: “…”
Did this guy walk without making a sound? When had he even gotten behind her?
Jiang Li calmly turned her half-turned head back around. “Looking for a dog.”
Shang Chi: “?”
Since Xiao Ke had apologized so graciously, everyone naturally waved their hands and said it was no problem.
Only the director glanced at the clock hanging on the wall nearby and instinctively wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Everyone in the industry knew—Shang Chi hated it most when people showed up late.
There had been a time when a certain program went through tremendous effort just to get him to agree to an interview, but something unexpected came up at the last minute, and he ended up arriving a full hour late.
Shang Chi hadn’t said anything about it at the time and had still completed the interview.
But after that, he never had any business dealings with that media company again.
When the director had put the two of them—him and Jiang Li—together this time, he’d been scared stiff inside, constantly afraid that once this formidable figure found out, he’d pull out directly.
He’d finally been able to breathe easy, and now this had to happen.
He was done for!
Wasn’t this practically tap-dancing right on this ancestor’s landmine?
The director stole a glance at Shang Chi, expecting to see his face darkened.
To his surprise, not only was his expression calm, but the corner of his mouth even seemed to carry a barely perceptible curve, making him look to be in a rather good mood.
Director: “?”
Were young people these days really this good at managing their expressions?
Fortunately, since Xiao Ke had an event to attend today, she’d already done her makeup meticulously beforehand and only needed a quick touch-up, so she didn’t keep the others waiting too long.
Before the shoot began, the photographer, afraid that Jiang Li and Shang Chi might clash again, even thoughtfully arranged the two of them at the farthest positions from each other.
Satisfied, he nodded, pressed the shutter with a series of clicks, and retreated into the shadows, leaving no trace of his good deed.
After the shoot, the director gathered everyone together again. “The official account will announce the guest lineup tomorrow evening. Please remember to coordinate and repost.”
“Oh, right, we haven’t set up a group chat yet, have we?” The director slapped himself on the forehead. “I’ll create a group in a bit—if anything comes up, everyone can communicate directly in the group.”
Naturally, no one had any objections.
Once everything was done, Jiang Li went to the restroom.
After finishing up, she was heading to the elevator with Xiao Qing to go down to the underground parking lot when she saw Shang Chi at the elevator entrance—a man who, by all accounts, should have already left.
Jiang Li was visibly taken aback. “Why are you still here?”
She’d gone to the restroom and, while in there, had taken off her makeup and changed into a light set of casual clothes.
She’d taken quite a while, and the other guests had long since left—so why hadn’t Shang Chi gone yet?
The man lowered his gaze to her, his long lashes casting a shadow beneath his eyes.
It was a long moment before he spoke. “Waiting for you.”
Xiao Qing, standing behind Jiang Li, instantly went wide-eyed.
Weren’t the two of them supposed to have a bad relationship? What was going on now?
Before Xiao Qing could spin up a full-blown drama about love too deep to speak aloud, she heard the tall man in front of her let out a light snicker. “Waiting for you to repay your debt.”
Xiao Qing: “…”
She’d jumped to conclusions.
Jiang Li, meanwhile, caught on quickly. “Ah,” she said. “You mean your jacket?”
The man raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying.
“I actually wanted to have Sister Yang contact your agent earlier to send it over to you, but I never had the chance—”
Shang Chi wore an expression that said “Go on, keep making things up,” and simply held out his palm. “Give me your phone.”
Jiang Li looked at him suspiciously, every inch of her—down to the very strands of her hair—radiating distrust. “What for?”
Seeing her like this, Shang Chi let out an exasperated laugh.
“Don’t you need to return my clothes?”
He paused, then suddenly wore a meaningful expression. “Don’t tell me the reason you’ve been dragging your feet about returning my clothes is—”
Jiang Li’s scalp prickled all over, terrified that this dog was about to say something filthy again.
So, with lightning speed, she unlocked her phone and shoved it into the man’s hand.
To guard against being turned around and blamed, she was very foresighted and instructed, “Write the address accurately, or if it gets lost, I won’t be responsible.”
A slight smile curled at the corner of Shang Chi’s lips. He fiddled with the phone for a moment before handing it back to her, then took out his own phone and tapped it a couple of times.
“That fast?”
Jiang Li took the phone and looked down.
There was no address at all—only the WeChat page displayed—
【You have added Shang Chi. You can start chatting now.】