Lu Zeqing closed his eyes, attempting multiple times but failing to get into character.

Jiang Siyu had given him such a… provocative scene to start with. He couldn’t immerse himself and could only stand there in a daze.

“Qingqing, you have a bigger issue with your acting,” Jiang Siyu said.

“You need to learn how to let go of your burdens. Whether your acting is good or not and whether you dare to act are two separate matters.”

Jiang Siyu wasn’t deliberately making things difficult for Lu Zeqing. This scene was actually quite tame. If Lu Zeqing couldn’t overcome it, there would be even more problems later on.

For now, it was just the two of them. During the audition, there would be the director and staff present, and when filming officially started, the set would be surrounded by an entire crew.

“For a newcomer like you, I suggest trying to fully integrate into the character rather than imitating how others act.”

Jiang Siyu didn’t say much more; he wanted to first see how Lu Zeqing performed.

“There’s no Lu Zeqing or Jiang Siyu here, only the Little Prince and the Imperial Teacher,” Jiang Siyu instructed.

Lu Zeqing nodded.

After spending some time mentally preparing, his once light gaze showed a trace of anger.

Lu Zeqing hadn’t read the earlier parts of the script, but he deduced that before the Little Prince arrived, he must have been provoked or angered. He suppressed his fury to confront the Imperial Teacher, but the Imperial Teacher’s indifference caused his anger to spike, leading him to utter murderous words.

Lu Zeqing grabbed Jiang Siyu’s collar, pulling him closer.

“Today is the Qixi Festival. All my brothers have companions. Shouldn’t the Imperial Teacher be a bit more proactive as well?”

Jiang Siyu hadn’t expected Lu Zeqing to add the action of grabbing his collar, but it didn’t feel out of place—in fact, it was quite reasonable.

He lowered his lashes, making no response.

“The Imperial Teacher once taught me that if you like something, you must fight for it,” Lu Zeqing continued. “So, is hiding the Imperial Teacher here considered fighting for it?”

Leaning closer, Lu Zeqing whispered by Jiang Siyu’s ear. “The Imperial Teacher also said that I look best when I smile. So why won’t the Imperial Teacher look at me?”

Lu Zeqing pinched Jiang Siyu’s chin, forcing him to look at him.

“Is it pleasing to the eye?”

“Is this the kind of look the Imperial Teacher likes?”

Jiang Siyu was forced to raise his head, but his gaze refused to fall on Lu Zeqing.

“Or is the Imperial Teacher playing a game of hard-to-get?”

“Look at me,” he demanded, anger barely restrained.

“If the Imperial Teacher angers me, I don’t know what I might do.”

“I wouldn’t bear to harm the Imperial Teacher, so why not eliminate everyone the Imperial Teacher cares about…” Lu Zeqing narrowed his eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips, though his words carried malice. “That way, the Imperial Teacher’s eyes would only see me, wouldn’t they?”

Lu Zeqing’s smile was sweet and innocent, but his words were cruel. “The way the Imperial Teacher looks angry… it stirs my heart too.”

“If not murder, then…” His hand moved from Jiang Siyu’s collar down to his waist, his fingers drawing circles through the fabric. “Use your body to please me.”

Jiang Siyu held his breath, waiting for Lu Zeqing to finish his last line before gripping his hand and letting out a small sigh. Releasing Lu Zeqing’s hand, Jiang Siyu’s expression was somewhat complicated.

Lu Zeqing’s acting was decent.

Although he had only read through the script once and hadn’t memorized all the lines, his ability to improvise and adapt in the moment was commendable. He hadn’t paused despite forgetting some lines and had adjusted his dialogue to fit the situation naturally.

His expressions and actions aligned perfectly with the character.

Compared to some popular actors in the industry who had filmed numerous dramas, Lu Zeqing was much better.

“Have you studied acting?” Jiang Siyu asked.

Lu Zeqing shook his head.

“…I once auditioned for a role but didn’t get it.”

Jiang Siyu was surprised. “What role?”

“A fox spirit.”

Jiang Siyu paused. “…”

He couldn’t help glancing at Lu Zeqing again. His potential was truly exceptional. Whether in terms of acting skills or appearance, Lu Zeqing’s career could have great range.

Jiang Siyu felt a hint of excitement.

He loved filming, and when he decided to take on this drama, Lu Zeqing was his first choice. He wanted the opportunity to collaborate with Lu Zeqing in his preferred field, which was partly due to personal feelings.

But now, Jiang Siyu had discovered a strong connection between their artistic spirits. He had an intense desire to work alongside Lu Zeqing.

“Do you enjoy acting, or are you only in it for the money?”

“At first, it was just for the money.”

“And now?”

“I’m not sure.” Lu Zeqing thought about it. When he first had the opportunity to act, his primary goal was to earn money—lots of it.

Out of respect for his work, he took every audition seriously. But after shedding his burdens, he found it somewhat enjoyable.

He wasn’t sure if he liked acting because of the role or the process itself.

Lu Zeqing wasn’t very sentimental. When others talked about dreams, he only thought about making money.

When asked about his dreams, he would simply reply: making money.

“That’s fine. You’re only 20 and haven’t graduated from university yet. Take your time to figure it out. For now, focus on doing your best.”

Lu Zeqing nodded. However, he seemed bothered that Jiang Siyu hadn’t commented on his acting. Looking at Jiang Siyu with anticipation, he asked softly, “Was my performance that bad?”

It was rare for Lu Zeqing to show such a lack of confidence. He even seemed a bit embarrassed.

“It was very good.”

Lu Zeqing’s eyes lit up immediately. “Really?”

“Really. But there are still many issues.”

Lu Zeqing nodded but only heard the part where Jiang Siyu said it was “very good.”

“You can do even better,” Jiang Siyu continued. “Do you know why I chose this scene? Director Zhen has worked with many actors before and seen all kinds of people. In her eyes, aside from your looks, you have one major advantage.”

“What is it?” Lu Zeqing straightened up, listening attentively.

“Our chemistry as a pair.”

“This is a danmei drama with both plot and romance elements,” Jiang Siyu explained. “The unique personalities of the Little Prince and the Imperial Teacher create a one-of-a-kind pairing. Swapping in different characters could also make an engaging duo, but they wouldn’t have the same intense chemistry as the Little Prince and the Imperial Teacher.”

“The Imperial Teacher and the Little Prince have a natural, implicit bond that can’t be acted out deliberately. Some pairings just have an instant allure, even if they stand silently together. Fans go crazy over them. Other pairings require constant interaction to retain fans, and some simply can’t spark that connection no matter how hard they try.”

“Perfecting your acting skills is something to work on after joining the crew. But before that, what’s more important is for you to embody this character naturally. The chemistry will come through strongest when it feels authentic.”

“Shall we continue?” Jiang Siyu asked.

Lu Zeqing nodded.

“I’ll give you a bit of homework,” Jiang Siyu continued, “Try to read the original novel at least three times over the next few days.”

With that, he turned, retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a few gulps to suppress the heat simmering within him.

Good acting made a difference.

When Lu Zeqing had suddenly grabbed his collar, Jiang Siyu’s heart had pounded uncontrollably, but he managed to stay composed and act as if nothing had happened—all thanks to his years of experience.

Jiang Siyu suddenly felt a pang of curiosity about what Lu Zeqing’s audition as a “fox spirit” must have been like.

He regretted not being able to witness it.

“Mr. Jiang?”

“Hmm?” Jiang Siyu paused mid-sip.

“Thank you,” Lu Zeqing said softly.

A warm smile touched Jiang Siyu’s eyes as he saw the soft light in Lu Zeqing’s gaze, as though a ray of dawn pierced through the clouds. Radiant and captivating.

Just sitting there, Lu Zeqing stirred Jiang Siyu’s heart anew.

…

The next evening, Jiang Siyu received an invitation to the Qi family’s home.

Not wanting to inconvenience Qi Zeyu by having him take a detour after work, Lu Zeqing simply hitched a ride with Jiang Siyu.

“Mr. Jiang, I’m thinking about buying a car. Do you have any recommendations?”

“That’s a good idea. It’d make traveling easier.” Although Jiang Siyu would have liked to continue driving him, he offered a helpful response.

“What price range or requirements do you have?” he asked.

“Just for daily use,” Lu Zeqing replied without any particular requirements. “Ideally, something under 300,000 with the best value.”

Jiang Siyu fell silent.

Excluding his magazine shoot fees, he knew that Lu Zeqing had received 1.5 million yuan in “payment” as of yesterday. Yet, here he was, considering a car under 300,000 yuan, suggesting he didn’t need much or that Jiang Siyu hadn’t given enough. Should he ask finance to increase the amount?

Deciding not to voice his thoughts, Jiang Siyu simply said, “I’ll take you to a dealership sometime soon.”

“Thank you again, Mr. Jiang.”

The drive wasn’t particularly long, as Jiang Siyu was very familiar with the routes in City A. Once Lu Zeqing gave him the address, he navigated easily into the Qi family’s garage.

From the trunk, Jiang Siyu took out two boxes of tea. It was his first visit, so he knew he had to bring a modest gift—something neither too valuable nor too casual.

Seeing the row of luxury cars in the garage, Jiang Siyu raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Your family has a lot of cars.”

He’d wanted to ask, “Didn’t they want to get you one?” But on second thought, he remembered that Lu Zeqing had only recently returned home and was still in a transitional phase.

“They’re my brother’s.”

“Oh.”

Qi Zeyu had just driven into the garage and, seeing the two of them there, rolled down his window.

“Big Brother, you’re back.”

“Hmm.” Qi Zeyu nodded, glancing at Jiang Siyu. “Why’d you bring him here?”

“I already spoke to Mom and Dad; they invited Mr. Jiang to join us.”

Hearing the words “as a guest” eased Qi Zeyu’s mood slightly. “That’s right, he’s a guest, and he should be treated well. Go on ahead and take him in.”

Instead of going straight in, Lu Zeqing waited by the elevator.

Qi Zeyu walked over, holding his documents. “Didn’t I tell you to go on in?”

“Mr. Jiang said there’s no rush and wanted to wait for you.”

Without another word, the three of them entered the elevator together. The underground garage spanned two levels, and the elevator led directly to the first floor of the villa.

As soon as Lu Zeqing stepped out of the elevator, he saw a man in a suit waiting by the entrance.

“Young Master Zeyu, Young Master Zeqing.”

“Welcome, Mr. Jiang,” the man said with a respectful nod.

Lu Zeqing, who hadn’t encountered this level of formality when he returned home the previous day, was momentarily stunned by being called “Young Master.” He stood there, uncertain of what to say, and looked at Qi Zeyu with a hint of confusion.

Before Qi Zeyu could explain, the butler smiled and said, “Young Master Zeqing might not remember me. I am the butler of the Qi family; my surname is Wang.”

Still struggling to adjust to being addressed as “Young Master,” Lu Zeqing looked to Qi Zeyu for clarification.

“Whenever guests come, Uncle Wang is responsible for welcoming them,” Qi Zeyu explained. Guests, of course, referred to Jiang Siyu. When the Qi family hosted important visitors, a bit of ceremony was customary to show respect.

Jiang Siyu handed the two boxes of tea to the butler. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Oh, Mr. Jiang, you’re too kind,” the butler replied with a smile, taking the tea and setting it carefully on a nearby cabinet.

The entire time, Lu Zeqing followed Qi Zeyu to the living room, where he sat stiffly on the sofa, uneasy at the thought that someone might address him as “Young Master” again.

Just then, an attendant brought out a fruit platter and handed it to Jiang Siyu. “Please have some fruit, Mr. Jiang.”

“Thank you,” he replied politely.

“Zeyu, Zeqing, please entertain our guest. I’ll head upstairs to inform Madam, and Mr. Qi said he would be home in about half an hour.”

“Alright,” Qi Zeyu replied with a nod.

With a sigh of relief, Lu Zeqing found himself more at ease when he was addressed by name. But just as he was relaxing, the butler, Uncle Wang, approached him again. “Young Master Zeqing.”

Instantly, Lu Zeqing straightened up on the sofa.

“Uncle Wang, please just call me by my name,” he said, embarrassed.

The butler smiled kindly but didn’t agree. “Do you remember me?”

Lu Zeqing shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“No worries. Once you’re back for a while, you’ll get used to it.”

Lu Zeqing: “…”

In truth, he was far from getting used to it.

Back in high school, Lu Zeqing had been part of a club. When one of the members missed a meeting, he’d called their primary contact and didn’t receive a response, so he tried their emergency contact. A housekeeper answered, and when Lu Zeqing explained the situation, she had replied, “The young master isn’t home yet, but I can give you the bodyguard’s number if you’d like.”

Lu Zeqing had been stunned. “Young master” and “bodyguard” were terms he was unfamiliar with.

While he had met wealthy families that hired household help, they usually addressed their employers by name. Later, Lu Zeqing realized there was a distinction between wealthy families, and then there were the wealthy elite.

Some top-tier families even had butlers trained through professional companies, complete with certifications.

Knowing this didn’t make him feel any more comfortable, though.

Not long after, Lu Zeqing’s mother, Lu Nianchu, descended the stairs in an elegant dress and light makeup, carrying herself with quiet grace.

“Oh, Xiao Jiang is here.”

“Good evening, Auntie.”

“Such a polite young man. There was no need to bring anything,” Lu Nianchu remarked, hearing about the tea from one of the household staff.

“I don’t drink much tea myself; it’s just a small token. I hope you don’t mind,” Jiang Siyu said with a polite smile.

“Of course not,” she replied warmly, sizing up Jiang Siyu. She had always thought he was a nice young man, but now that he might be in a relationship with her son, she was determined to look a little closer.

“Xiao Jiang, I imagine you’re usually quite busy with work, aren’t you?”

“It’s manageable,” he replied with a gentle smile. “I make sure to take a break after every filming project.”

“That’s good. I hear that being an actor can be quite tiring?” Lu Nianchu said, recalling her own younger days performing in theater. She understood the hard work involved behind the scenes.

“I heard from Zeqing that he recently went for an audition, thanks to your recommendation.”

“It wasn’t entirely my doing,” Jiang Siyu corrected modestly. “Director Zhen had already shown interest. I simply introduced him. You might remember her—she’s the second daughter of the Zhen family.”

“Oh, her,” Lu Nianchu replied, recalling the family of jewelers. Zhen Yaoyao had once assisted in appraising a necklace Grandma Qi had given her during a birthday celebration.

Soon after, Qi Huai returned, followed by Grandma Qi and Qi Nan.

Lu Zeqing’s gaze lingered on Qi Nan for a moment. He was both surprised and not surprised. As long as he lived at the Qi family home, he would inevitably run into Qi Nan.

“Qingqing’s home,” Grandma Qi said with a warm smile.

“Grandma,” he greeted.

“We stopped by the hospital for a check-up today, and afterward, I went to your father’s office to rest,” Grandma Qi explained. The hospital was close to his office, so after their visit, she’d waited there until he was done with work.

Qi Nan stared, stunned, at Lu Zeqing. Grandma Qi chuckled and gave him a light nudge.

“See, I wasn’t lying, was I? Qiqi really is back.”

Qi Nan’s expression froze as he looked at Lu Zeqing. He knew that Qiqi had been found, but he had no idea that Qiqi was… actually Lu Zeqing.

How could it possibly be Lu Zeqing?