He: Amazing script.
Xu Zhiyuan was busy typing on her keyboard when she stopped upon seeing He Jiayu’s message.
Xu Zhiyuan: Did Assistant Yuan send you the script?
Xu Zhiyuan: It’s good, right?
Xu Zhiyuan smiled as she waited for He Jiayu’s reply.
He: It’s very good. If it gets produced, there’s no need to worry about ratings.
Xu Zhiyuan proudly lifted her chin. Wasn’t that obvious?
The power of Huanhuan should not be underestimated—it’s a classic that remains fresh with every viewing, truly a masterpiece among masterpieces.
Xu Zhiyuan: But the actors’ performances also need to be up to par. Assistant Yuan said Guang Sheng Entertainment has its own team, and some of Guang Sheng’s artists have decent acting skills.
Xu Zhiyuan: Since it’s our own company, I definitely won’t be shortchanged. I just hope they’ll put their hearts into filming and not cast people recklessly.
Far away abroad, He Jiayu couldn’t help but laugh. He walked over to the bed, sat down, and leaned against the headboard.
He: Don’t worry, they wouldn’t dare.
At Guang Sheng, he had plans for restructuring, and there would be a focus on certain aspects moving forward. Naturally, he wouldn’t let anyone mess things up and tarnish the brand.
Reading He Jiayu’s message, it carried an air of dominance.
It had that domineering CEO vibe.
Xu Zhiyuan couldn’t help but laugh. She couldn’t imagine what He Jiayu would look like spouting domineering CEO lines, but it would definitely be jarring and hilarious.
Xu Zhiyuan: I believe you.
Just three short words, yet they felt like they were hammered into her heart one by one, leaving a deep imprint.
She had never realized how much weight these three words carried, how profoundly they could stir her emotions.
Since his wife trusted him so much, he naturally couldn’t let her down.
After ending his chat with Xu Zhiyuan, He Jiayu called Yuan Yuan.
…
The business trip was supposed to last half a month, but He Jiayu returned to the country almost twenty days later.
Yuan Yuan picked up He Jiayu and drove toward the villa, reporting on work along the way.
During He Jiayu’s absence, things had been relatively calm, with the most activity happening at Guang Sheng Entertainment.
Following He Jiayu’s orders, Guang Sheng Entertainment underwent a major overhaul. Some people left, others joined, but the most attention-grabbing was the launch of a certain project at Guang Sheng Entertainment.
To ensure quality and not waste Xu Zhiyuan’s script, He Jiayu even invited several history professors from Capital University to serve as consultants.
Xu Zhiyuan’s script was excellent, but there were some discrepancies with actual history. She knew it was due to differences between the histories of two worlds, so lately, she had been discussing online with those professors how to revise it to better align with historical accuracy.
While they were refining the script, Guang Sheng wasn’t idle either. With the project established, the next step was casting actors, prioritizing their own artists first. So, the higher-ups immediately issued a notice urging their artists to hone their acting skills.
Of course, they couldn’t handle the entire production alone and would need to collaborate with other artists. But Guang Sheng’s own people still had priority.
Although the company didn’t reveal much, the formal directive made it clear even to fools that something big was in the works. Everyone was putting in effort to learn, including the trainees. As long as they could debut, they were willing to seize any opportunity and give it their all.
Xu Zhiyuan didn’t know yet that He Jiayu had returned. At the moment, she was in the study, discussing with the professors while revising the script on her computer, occasionally pausing to jot something down.
These are all practical tips that she would find useful in the future.
For example, they could be applied to scripts about the Qing palace, such as “Scarlet Heart,” “Palace,” or even “My Fair Princess.”
When He Jiayu returned and didn’t see Xu Zhiyuan, he assumed she was in the media room and habitually headed there. Nanny Zhang quickly reminded him that Xu Zhiyuan was upstairs.
“Young Madam has been busy in the study lately.”
He Jiayu remembered that Xu Zhiyuan had previously asked to borrow his study.
When he arrived at the study, Xu Zhiyuan was so absorbed in writing something that she didn’t even notice him. She was deeply focused, with her hair falling loosely around her face, too preoccupied to tidy it up. Only after jotting down the key points did she finally look up and see He Jiayu leaning against the doorframe.
Her serious expression suddenly blossomed into a radiant smile, her eyes sparkling and curving into crescent moons.
“He Jiayu, you’re back.” Xu Zhiyuan instinctively stood up, then remembered she was still on a video call with the professors. She turned to the camera, slightly embarrassed, and said, “Professor Chen, Professor Li, Professor Cai, I have something to attend to. Can we end here for today?”
Professor Chen and the others had clearly observed her reaction—the look of happiness and joy on her face made it obvious that someone she cared about had returned.
He Jiayu?
It was likely the person they had in mind.
How unexpected.
The three professors chuckled and said it was no problem, then logged off one by one. Only then did Xu Zhiyuan close her laptop.
By this time, He Jiayu had already walked over and stood beside her. He glanced down at her notes, densely packed with annotations and markings, a testament to her diligence and effort. Naturally, he reached out and took her wrist, gently massaging it to relieve the fatigue.
Xu Zhiyuan had never experienced such an intimate gesture with anyone before. Feeling a bit shy, she instinctively tried to pull away, but then remembered they were already sharing a room and that He Jiayu had told her to get used to it. So, she gave up the attempt.
He Jiayu took note of her reaction, finding it rather endearing. Seeing her slightly flushed cheeks, he couldn’t resist leaning down to give her a kiss. Her skin was tender, and Xu Zhiyuan’s face turned even redder.
“What are you doing?”
He Jiayu raised an eyebrow. “Kissing my wife.”
Xu Zhiyuan flushed all the way to her neck, realizing that He Jiayu could be quite smooth-tongued. She couldn’t help but glare at him through her glasses.
Unaware that her expression held no intimidation whatsoever, He Jiayu saw it as more of a coy, playful look. His gaze drifted downward, shifting from her eyes to her lips—plump, moist, and rosy, like jelly. He leaned in again and gently bit them.
Indeed, they were like jelly—soft and sweet.
Xu Zhiyuan’s eyes widened, her heart racing out of rhythm. She reached out to push He Jiayu away, but he easily restrained her, using just one hand to hold both of hers while the other cupped the back of her head, slowly deepening the kiss.
After what felt like an eternity, when Xu Zhiyuan felt as though she might suffocate, He Jiayu finally released her. By then, any initial resistance had melted away. Her body had gone limp, and she could only stand upright by leaning against He Jiayu’s chest.
Suddenly breathing in air again, her lips parted slightly as she gasped for breath, her eyes still hazy with lingering emotion. The sight stirred something deep within He Jiayu, his gaze darkening. He didn’t press further but simply held Xu Zhiyuan like that, giving them both a moment to calm down.
A sharp, jarring ringtone suddenly blared. He Jiayu furrowed his brow, annoyed by the disturbance, and lowered his head to look at Xu Zhiyuan. But Xu Zhiyuan had already pushed him away, startled like a rabbit jolted awake.
Tsk!
“Who is it?!”
“It’s me…”