Zhou Yang had gone somewhere with the production manager, and when Qin Mingyuan came out, he couldn’t spot him anywhere. Frowning, he pulled out his phone and called him.

The other side quickly apologized, explaining that he had gone nearby to buy coffee and would be back shortly.

After casually acknowledging the response, Qin Mingyuan hung up the call. He took a few steps to a nearby tree and stopped. The branches were still bare, with only a few fresh buds peeking out, unable to block the strong sunlight today. He leaned back against the trunk, unusually relaxed.

He recalled Yun Yuexian’s shocked expression after hearing his remark earlier. That memory put him in a good mood. Whatever misunderstandings Yun Yuexian developed from it were not his concern.

What would the Eldest Young Master of the Yun Family, who wanted to distance himself as much as possible, think if he knew Qin Mingyuan was using him for amusement?

“Assistant Director…”

Not far away, Qin Mingyuan heard a familiar voice. He turned his head and saw the young assistant from earlier speaking with the assistant director.

They were neither too close nor too far away, and their conversation was just within earshot. Qin Mingyuan wasn’t one to eavesdrop, so he stood up, intending to leave.

“Si Yu rejected the offer. What should we do now?”

Hearing this made Qin Mingyuan pause mid-step, thinking to himself that this mysterious little artist had quite the personality.

“Why? Was the payment not high enough?” The assistant director seemed surprised as well.

“I’m not sure. We called several times and listed all the conditions, but they said they weren’t interested and suggested we find someone else,” the assistant was clearly anxious. He had been given a rare task by the director, and if he couldn’t deliver, Li Lin would certainly be upset.

“Artists are all a bit eccentric, I suppose…” the assistant director muttered, patting the younger man on the shoulder. “No worries, we’re not in a rush yet. Keep calling him over the next few days, and if needed, visit him in person. Once Director Li sets his sights on someone, he’ll insist on getting them, so you’ll just have to work harder.”

The young assistant felt more reassured by the words and nodded eagerly, promising to do his best.

As they walked away, neither of them noticed Qin Mingyuan standing behind the tree.

This artist doesn’t attend exhibitions or accept movie invitations. Quite the mysterious person. Qin Mingyuan was becoming more and more curious about what kind of person Si Yu was.

“President Qin!”

Zhou Yang came hurrying over, slightly out of breath, clearly worried that Qin Mingyuan had been waiting too long. “I’m sorry! I thought you’d be chatting with Mr. Yun for a while longer.”

Zhou Yang had assumed that, since his boss had made time to visit the set, they would at least stay for lunch, which was why he felt comfortable stepping away. But to his surprise, Qin Mingyuan had called him so quickly.

Worried about annoying his boss, Zhou Yang had even bought a cup of coffee as a peace offering, which he quickly handed over with both hands. Qin Mingyuan didn’t mind, took the coffee, and started walking away. As Zhou Yang followed, Qin Mingyuan glanced sideways and said, “I’m optimistic about this film. Let’s increase the investment.”

A bit more money might just entice that person to agree, and perhaps he could drop by the set again to see what this mysterious Si Yu was all about.

Of course, Qin Mingyuan’s decision to invest more wasn’t purely driven by curiosity. [Winter’s Sun] was Yun Yuexian’s first film, and the project where he and Liang Zichen’s love story bloomed. With Li Lin directing, it was bound to be a hit, and earning extra money in the process wasn’t a bad deal.

Zhou Yang was stunned for a moment before quickly agreeing, thinking to himself that his boss clearly hadn’t gotten over the Yun Family’s young master. Now that another potential romantic rival had appeared in Yun Yuexian’s life, it seemed his boss’s competitive spirit had been reignited. Ah, men—they love a good challenge.

——

Yun Pei sat by the window, the sunlight warm on his body. He held a paintbrush in his hand, dipping it into the paint and drawing the outline of tree shadows on the canvas.

A soft breeze blew in through a slightly open window, causing the white curtains to sway gently, casting moving shadows across the room.

The phone on the small table beside him rang again. He glanced at the screen but ignored it, rinsing his brush in a bucket of water and switching to a different color.

The same person had called him multiple times, claiming to be a crew member working on a movie. Yun Pei hadn’t paid much attention, but he gathered that they wanted him to be a hand double for some painting scenes.

He had no interest in the offer and had refused right away. However, the person seemed persistent, continuing to call and offering to accommodate any of his conditions, just for a few shots.

Yun Pei had stopped answering the calls after that, and he hadn’t replied to the messages either.

His current painting was almost complete. It depicted the scenery of the Yun family garden as it once was.

After that woman had moved in, she had expressed her dislike for the garden’s style and had it completely redone. None of the flowers and plants his mother had lovingly planted were left.

Fearing he might eventually forget the image of the old garden, Yun Pei often painted scenes of things his mother had loved to preserve them.

The insistent ringing of the phone finally stopped, but only for a few seconds before it started again.

Maybe I should just block the number, Yun Pei thought. But as he reached for the phone, he realized the number displayed wasn’t the one that had been calling.

The person calling now surprised him even more.

After a moment’s hesitation, he answered and put the phone on speaker, setting it back on the table while he continued to paint.

“Brother,” a cheerful voice came through the phone, sounding very pleased. “Have you had lunch yet?”

Yun Pei paused for a moment, examining the canvas critically. He still wasn’t quite satisfied with it, so he mixed in some white to adjust the color.

On the other end, the caller didn’t seem to mind the lack of response and continued talking. “Today’s shoot went really well. The director even praised me!”

This time, the color was right. Yun Pei nodded to himself, fixing a few more spots on the canvas.

“Oh, and Brother Mingyuan came to visit me on set today. He’s been so busy, but he still made time to come all the way to C City. It must have been exhausting for him.”

Yun Pei’s brush paused for a moment before resuming. “If you have time to call me, I guess he didn’t stay for lunch with you.”

There was a brief silence in the room, the only sound being the soft brushstrokes on the canvas.

“Brother Mingyuan has a lot on his plate. I’m already happy he came all this way to see me.”

Yun Pei didn’t care about that. After touching up a few more flowers, he glanced at the call screen. “If you called for a reason, just get to the point.”

“Can’t I call just because I miss you?” The voice on the other end chuckled lightly, the tone playful, almost teasing. “Today, while chatting with Brother Mingyuan, we happened to talk about your chance meeting at the hospital. I got curious—did you two talk about anything interesting when he drove you home?”

Rinsing his brush in the water bucket, Yun Pei couldn’t help but wonder why the caller was asking about this now. Surely that woman had already told him what happened. Why was he bringing it up again?

He remained silent, and the other person seemed to mistake his quietness for something else. “What’s the matter, Brother? Is there something you don’t want me to know?”

Yun Pei lightly ran his fingers over the bristles of the brush and replied flatly, “You already talked about it. Didn’t he tell you?”

“I didn’t have time to ask, which is why I wanted to hear it from you.”

After dipping the brush into the paint and finding the right spot on the canvas, Yun Pei let the silence hang for a moment before finally speaking. “Well, we did talk about one interesting thing.”

Yun Yuexian didn’t press further, quietly waiting for him to continue.

Yun Pei’s gaze never left the canvas, his eyes reflecting the vibrant colors. “He said that he’s not really interested in you anymore.”

After those words left his mouth, the room was silent for a long time. Glancing at the phone, he saw that the call had already ended.

“Yun Yuexian…” he whispered the name like a sigh before chuckling softly. “You’re losing your patience more and more.”

His peace didn’t last long, though. Another call came in—today seemed to be a particularly busy day for phone calls. Sighing, he put his brush down. This time, it was the unknown number again.

Tapping the screen lightly with his fingertip, he couldn’t help but think, How persistent. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to answer and reject them one last time.

“Mr. Si Yu, you finally answered!” The voice on the other end was so excited that they didn’t control their volume.

Yun Pei held the phone a little further away until the other person calmed down. “I really have no interest. Instead of wasting time on me, you should find someone else.”

“We’ve tried reaching out to many people, but the director isn’t satisfied with anyone else. Please, Mr. Si Yu, it’ll only take one day to shoot all the scenes. It won’t take up much of your time.”

Yun Pei couldn’t understand why they were so insistent. There were plenty of artists—why were they so fixated on him? “Why does it have to be me?”

“The director has already seen many other painters, but only your hands match the character’s design perfectly. After seeing your videos online, Director Li was convinced you were the right person. If we can’t get you, he’ll be really upset.”

“Director Li?” A thought crossed Yun Pei’s mind, and he suddenly had a guess.

“Yes, Director Li Lin. You know him, right?” The other person sounded hopeful, as if they’d found a breakthrough.

“Maybe,” Yun Pei responded, suddenly finding the situation more interesting. “Is the movie you’re working on [Winter’s Sun]?”

“Yes, yes! I told you that in the beginning. So, what do you think? Could you reconsider?”

Normally, Yun Pei wasn’t interested in movies or the entertainment industry. The only reason he even knew about [Winter’s Sun] was because of Yun Yuexian. When Yun Yuexian first got the role, he had been so excited, constantly talking about how hard it was to land a part in one of Director Li Lin’s films.

Resting his chin on his hand, Yun Pei stared at the half-finished painting and said, “No need to reconsider. I’ll do it.”

The sudden change in attitude left the other party stunned. They were silent for a moment before quickly expressing their gratitude and discussing details.

“As long as I’m not on camera, the rest is up to you to arrange,” Yun Pei said as he turned his wheelchair to face the sunlight streaming through the window.

The person on the other end assured him that his face wouldn’t be shown, and they would coordinate with the director before getting back to him. The call ended soon after.

Putting the phone down, Yun Pei squinted into the bright sunlight. Despite the warmth, his cold expression remained unchanged, devoid of warmth.

He had a habit of doing things that upset certain people, like continuing to live in this villa. The more that woman tried to erase all traces of his mother, the more he resisted.

She could throw away items, renovate the garden, but his presence remained like a thorn in her throat—impossible to swallow or remove, constantly reminding her that she was nothing more than the third party in someone else’s marriage.