Ying Chan shrugged and explained simply, “Just a feeling.”
Jin Si had already beaten the man up, but he still felt restless. “But how did you know he’d come to this restroom… wait, no—you’re at this level of fame. How dare a nameless NPC like him secretly mess with you?”
“Big forests have all kinds of birds. Sexual harassment exists in every corner of the world, and victims come from all walks of life. It’s not strange that I’ve encountered it.”
Ying Chan answered his latter question first, because she could tell her bodyguard hadn’t calmed down yet.
Then she said, “As for how I guessed he’d go to that restroom… it’s just my understanding of men.”
“Men like that—once they get a cheap thrill off a woman, they can’t resist sharing it with their like-minded buddies. Everywhere else is too crowded; only that restroom has little foot traffic. So I figured there was a good chance he’d go there.”
Jin Si didn’t want to praise her for being clever, because this kind of “insight” could only come from experience.
She’d been through something similar before.
Jin Si pressed his tongue against his cheek, recalling the way she’d lifted her qipao slit and kicked the man. His throat itched a little. He reached up and scratched at his dove tattoo, then circled around to stand in front of her.
Ying Chan was confused. “What’s wrong?”
Jin Si dropped to one knee before her.
Ying Chan startled and stepped back. “??”
He looked at her with a half-smile. “What, you think I’m proposing or something?”
Ying Chan: “…”
He reached out and fastened the button that had popped loose at the slit of her qipao.
His voice was lazy but carried sincerity. “You’ve got a bodyguard. Next time you need something done, just give the word. These scumbags aren’t worth dirtying your hands.”
He always thought of her as a Persian cat in his heart—not to objectify her or infantilize her.
But because he felt she deserved to stay clean forever, pampered forever, like that princess cat, sitting on a jewel-embroidered cushion, basking in the sun without a care, breathing in the scent of flowers.
Even dust shouldn’t touch her.
She should be unapologetically spoiled.
Jin Si didn’t know why he had such thoughts, but at this moment, that’s just how he felt.
Ying Chan suddenly reached out and tilted his chin up.
Their eyes met. Jin Si caught sight of the fine fuzz on the bridge of her nose and lost focus for a moment.
Ying Chan curved her lips into a smile. “I may have hired a bodyguard to protect me, but I didn’t spend all these years in the entertainment industry for nothing. Don’t treat me like some fragile, helpless dodder vine, got it?”
The last word—she mimicked his tone.
With that, Ying Chan let go of him and walked back to the filming set with light, brisk steps.
Jin Si rose from the ground, watching her retreating figure. He touched his own chin and narrowed his eyes slightly.
Had he just been flirted with by her?
—Yes.
It’s not just him who knows how to flirt—she does too~
Ying Chan thought of the dazed look in Jin Si’s eyes, and her mood, which had been soured by the disgusting male NPC, had already lifted.
She lowered her head and smiled.
Back at the filming set, Ying Chan saw the male NPC, his face swollen and bruised, cowering as he apologized to the show’s director.
The director was cursing up a storm. “Do you not know this show is live?! The case reconstruction is supposed to air right after the main segment! You mess up now and we can’t film the reconstruction—this is a major broadcast accident! Can you bear that responsibility?!”
“And those injuries of yours—anyone can tell they’re not from a fall. Do you think I’m stupid?! Who hit you?!”
The male NPC didn’t dare make a sound.
The director was frantic. “Where am I supposed to find a suitable actor to replace you now?! Huh?!”
Jin Si had somehow appeared behind Ying Chan. He suddenly raised his hand. “I’ll take his place.”
?? Ying Chan and the director both turned to look.
The former was surprised; the latter was dazzled.
The director’s eyes lit up. Even though Jin Si was wearing a mask, with that build and that aura, he was definitely a handsome man!
“Are you staff or talent?”
“He’s my bodyguard.” Ying Chan looked at the man and suddenly thought it was a good idea. “He really can take his place. He’s pretty good at acting anyway.”
It was just an NPC role—it didn’t require exceptional acting skills, just passable. And now a man this handsome was volunteering. Of course the director agreed.
“Alright, alright, you’re in.”
Jin Si kept his hands in his pockets, acting more arrogant than an A-lister. He laid down his terms directly. “I won’t show my face. Make sure your cameras avoid it.”
The director didn’t understand. “You look this good—what a waste not to show it.”
Other people would kill for a close-up shot, for more exposure. If the timing and luck aligned and they went viral, they might even climb the social ladder.
Jin Si wasn’t interested in the slightest. “Agree and I’ll do it. Don’t agree and you can find someone else.”
The director had no other options. “Fine, fine, no face it is. Go change.”
Ying Chan led Jin Si to the dressing room, saying with curiosity, “Why are you so proactive today? Aren’t you usually too lazy to do this or that?”
“Idle time is idle time, might as well treat it as a game—I can even earn an NPC’s pay. Why not?”
Ying Chan glanced at him again. “I’ve always wanted to ask—you seem very ‘afraid to show your face.'”
Jin Si tugged at the corner of his mouth, the curve lazy and teasing. “What kind of talk is that? Am I your lover that you’d use a phrase like ‘afraid to show your face’?”
Ying Chan just wanted to know: “Then why do you wear a mask every time you go out, not letting anyone see your face?”
Jin Si was utterly unserious: “Because I’m too handsome. I’m afraid people will say I’m the pretty boy you keep.”
Ying Chan: “…Get lost.”
Jin Si took his costume and went into the changing room.
After changing and coming out, he arrived on set and reminded her: “In a bit, I’ll put my arm around your waist. You struggle a couple of times, then stab me with the knife.”
Ying Chan immediately understood—he was telling her in advance where he’d touch her body, so she could be mentally prepared.
This man, though his mouth ran wild, everything he actually did was measured, even gentlemanly—surpassing ninety percent of the men in this world.
“Oh.”
Filming resumed. Jin Si took one look at the script and knew exactly how to act.
When he pressed against her, their chests were still a palm’s width apart—not truly touching—but Ying Chan still faintly felt the heat radiating from his chest.
Jin Si’s breath brushed past her ear, and he suddenly whispered, “Your heart’s beating so fast.”
Ying Chan refused to back down: “So is yours.”
Jin Si chuckled softly.
Ying Chan’s heart wasn’t just racing—her mouth was going dry too.
She even nearly, nearly forgot that her next move was to grab the scissors and “stab him to death.”
She’d been acting for so many years, and she rarely forgot her lines.
Luckily, even though her mind was a mess, her muscle memory was still sharp. Ying Chan grabbed the prop scissors and thrust them toward his heart: “Let me go!”
“Ugh!” Jin Si clutched his chest, staggered backward, then collapsed to the ground.
Ying Chan stared at her own hands, then at the person on the floor, breathing heavily in terror, tears streaming down as she broke into sobs.
The director shouted, “Cut!”
“Good, good, good—that works. The emotion was spot on. Only our A-Chan, the great qingyi, could pull that off.” The director rubbed his hands together as he approached. “And A-Chan, this bodyguard of yours is something else. Why not sign him to your company?”
Ying Chan took the water her assistant handed over, took a sip, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Jin Si, and answered with the words he’d used on his first day:
“Because his life dream is to be a bodyguard.”
Jin Si laughed from the side.