As soon as Guan Ciyan entered the door, he saw a yellow-and-white figure dart through the living room. Xia Tian rushed from the downstairs room to his feet, rubbing against him, while the little stray cat sat on top of the entrance cabinet licking its paws.

Ever since the last time it got chased by Xia Tian, Little Sun had taken a liking to staying on top of the cabinet—only to suddenly pounce down, slap Xia Tian, and then dart back into its own room.

Guan Ciyan tapped the dog’s nose, which had just been scratched by the cat. “Useless.”

Xia Tian whimpered and rubbed against Guan Ciyan.

It’s not that our army is weak—it’s that the enemy is too strong.

Guan Ciyan glanced at the “enemy”—standing hesitantly on the three-step stairway between the living room and dining area, half-turned toward Zhang Bo in the dining room, pretending to chat but actually straining to listen to the commotion in the living room.

He should have been home earlier tonight, but as he was leaving, the head of the Artist Management Department pulled him aside to talk. That delayed him two hours, and he only left the office at nine.

Standing at the door, Guan Ciyan looked at Jian Yang’s back. “Xia Tian, let’s go out.”

Xia Tian: Woof woof woof! The dog jumped around excitedly and even brought its harness over.

Jian Yang froze for a moment before quickly saying, “Zhang Bo, Little Sun hasn’t gone out all day. I’ll take him out for a bit and come back for dinner.”

Zhang Bo: “Dogs need to be walked, but cats don’t.”

The food would be ruined if it sat any longer.

Jian Yang quickly ran to the cat’s room, but at this critical moment, Little Sun hid under the bed, locking eyes with Jian Yang in a standoff.

“Be good, son. Our long-term meal ticket is outside, you gotta make an effort.”

“Look at Xia Tian—border collies are smart, always knowing how to please people. You need to plan for your own future too.”

“Come on, I’ve got cat treats…”

Jian Yang successfully lured Little Sun out with two cat sticks. By the time he came out holding the cat, Guan Ciyan was already sitting at the dining table, eating.

Jian Yang was shocked.

Jian Yang: You bastard!

He tricked him again! He wasn’t even planning to walk the dog!

Hugging the cat, Jian Yang huffed, turned around, and walked toward the door.

Just as he reached the entrance, Guan Ciyan’s voice came from behind. “Come back. Eat.”

Jian Yang opened the door.

“There’s no late-night snack tonight.”

Jian Yang: …Fine. The world is big, but food is the biggest.

The meal was innocent, but Guan Ciyan deserved to die.

During dinner, Jian Yang didn’t say a word, thinking he looked very cool. Little did he know, to Guan Ciyan, he just looked like a sulking kid—picking at this dish for two bites, nibbling at another, taking half an hour to finish half a bowl of rice. Every time, he would pick up just a tiny bit with the tip of his chopsticks, his lips moving slightly as he ate, like an unripe fruit swaying on a tree, tempting but not yet ready to fall.

By the time Guan Ciyan finished two bowls of rice, Jian Yang’s half-bowl was still half-full.

“Next time, you and Little Sun should just share.”

Jian Yang looked up, confused. “Huh??”

Guan Ciyan: “You two eat about the same amount.”

Jian Yang slammed his chopsticks down, grabbed his plate, and stomped toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Guan Ciyan asked.

“Washing dishes,” Jian Yang snapped.

Guan Ciyan lazily lifted his gaze, glancing at him. “Did Zhang Bo never tell you to stop acting poor?”

Jian Yang: !!!!! He knew it! Guan Ciyan would never say something nice. Zhang Bo must have sugarcoated it when passing the message!

Zhang Bo quickly came over. “Young Master, you mustn’t do that.”

“I can,” Jian Yang said earnestly. “I know how to cook and wash dishes.”

When he was living with his sister, she was often too busy to take care of him. He felt bad for her, so he naturally started doing the dishes after meals. Now, he didn’t want Zhang Bo to do everything alone either.

Zhang Bo hesitated before smiling slightly. “Young Master, we have people specifically hired for these tasks. It’s not my job either, so don’t take away their work.”

Jian Yang: “Huh?”

He had never seen any other servants in the villa.

Zhang Bo explained, “They live in the servants’ quarters at the back. Sir doesn’t like too many people around the house. They come in, do their tasks, and leave. There’s a dedicated service elevator, so you haven’t run into them.”

Jian Yang thought he had seen a fair share of wealthy people in his past life, but Guan Ciyan still managed to surprise him.

What kind of weird quirk is this? Can’t even stand to see his own servants?

“Get him some dessert,” Guan Ciyan instructed after finishing his meal.

His tie was loosened from earlier, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He leaned back lazily in his chair, one arm draped over the dining table, absentmindedly spinning an intricately carved cup between his fingers—bored, seemingly at a loss for something to do. The usual sharpness of his presence was dulled, leaving only the raw strength outlined by his toned muscles.

Jian Yang had once let his guard down seeing him like this, only to be forced to watch an entire “cat vs. dog battle” as a lesson in not underestimating him.

Now, the more relaxed Guan Ciyan looked, the more wary Jian Yang became.

Zhang Bo brought over a chocolate hazelnut cake. Jian Yang swallowed hard. “I probably shouldn’t eat this, Zhang Bo.”

“You’re in terrible shape. How are you going to handle filming once production starts?” Guan Ciyan tapped the table with his fingers. “Eat it.”

“But I have to stay fit. If I gain weight, I’ll look bad on camera,” Jian Yang frowned, clearly torn. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eat—it was that he couldn’t afford to.

Guan Ciyan, surprisingly patient, said, “That’s what your body-shaping coach is for. When you’re not working, focus on getting healthy.”

Jian Yang blinked. “I don’t have a body-shaping coach.”

Now that Guan Ciyan mentioned it, Jian Yang started wondering if the production team would assign one. If he had a professional trainer, his physique might improve… He subconsciously touched his flat stomach, and his gaze accidentally landed on Guan Ciyan’s chest.

The slightly stretched dress shirt strained against his defined muscles, the second button barely holding together. Jian Yang had seen what was underneath—not just once.

The sharp lines of his oblique muscles, the eight-pack abs…

I wonder if his back muscles are just as well-defined…

“What are you looking at?” Guan Ciyan sipped his tea.

Jian Yang jolted, shaking his head furiously. “Nothing!”

Guan Ciyan didn’t seem to suspect anything, just assuming the kid’s mind had wandered again. “You’ll have one soon.”

“A body-shaping coach?” Jian Yang asked.

Guan Ciyan gave him a calm look, not denying it.

Jian Yang had never had a personal fitness trainer before. That was a luxury—something extra, not a necessity. He had always been careful with his earnings, saving whenever he could.

Everything Guan Ciyan gave him helped relieve his financial struggles, even surpassing the best circumstances he had ever lived in.

After guessing all night, Jian Yang still couldn’t figure out what Guan Ciyan was after. Money? He had plenty. A person? Guan Ciyan had only ever loved Jian Buqing.

“Sir, why are you giving me so much?” Unable to figure it out, Jian Yang simply asked.

Guan Ciyan’s answer was simple.

“Because I have it.”

…

Jian Yang: Not moved for even a second.

“You ran into Jian Buqing today?”

Jian Yang wasn’t surprised that he knew—Uncle Zhang had seen it, so it wasn’t strange that Guan Ciyan knew too. “Yeah, we ran into each other at the audition.”

Guan Ciyan didn’t think much of it. “Don’t worry, it’s just a matter of one sentence.”

“What one sentence…” Jian Yang suddenly realized and looked at him in shock. “No need, sir!”

He muttered to himself in a low voice, scooping a spoonful of cake into his mouth. “If I ask sir to help me get the role, wouldn’t that make me the same as Jian Buqing?”

Guan Ciyan’s lips curved slightly. “Come here.”

His faint smile made him look relaxed, as if he had withdrawn all his usual sharpness. His tall, masculine frame inexplicably gave off a sense of security. Jian Yang had to keep reminding himself not to be fooled by appearances—Guan Ciyan could just as easily take his life in the next second with that same harmless, laid-back posture.

Jian Yang didn’t move. Guan Ciyan lifted a finger and gestured lightly.

Jian Yang couldn’t refuse and pulled his chair closer.

Guan Ciyan ruffled his hair like it was summer, then lifted Jian Yang’s chin with his long, jade-like fingers. He looked into his clear, apricot eyes and enunciated each word: “Learning to use the resources around you is also a skill. Like me.”

“My resource?” Jian Yang couldn’t wrap his head around it. Guan Ciyan was telling him to… use him?

Guan Ciyan chuckled, released his chin, and pulled the chocolate cake in front of him.

Jian Yang didn’t understand, his thoughts a mess. The chocolate cream melted in his mouth, sweet but not overwhelming. Yet the thought he had been suppressing broke through: Was Guan Ciyan being good to him?

Why?

What reason did Guan Ciyan have to be kind to him?

But the cake was sweet.

Uncle Zhang said Guan Ciyan wasn’t what he seemed. Jian Yang’s rationality told him not to trust that. But the expensive, well-fitted clothes on his body were all gifts from Guan Ciyan.

He snuck a glance at him—only to meet Guan Ciyan’s gaze, warm with amusement.

Jian Yang quickly looked away and stuffed another bite of cake into his mouth.

His heartbeat stuttered.

That gaze was familiar. It was the same way Guan Ciyan had looked at him that evening when he pinned on his brooch—gentle and focused.

If this were a romance drama, that look could outshine every other show airing at the same time.

Jian Yang hesitated before saying, “Sir, I want to tell you a secret.”

“What?” Guan Ciyan enjoyed watching Jian Yang nibble at his food beside him. Even though they sat on chairs of the same height, Jian Yang was still noticeably shorter, a small figure who barely filled half the seat. His round eyes darted about, full of mischief. Guan Ciyan himself didn’t realize how much softer his gaze and voice had become.

Jian Yang felt like he was being seduced. He swallowed his cake and said, “Guan Jingyu doesn’t actually like me. The one he loves most is my brother, Jian Buqing.”

Guan Ciyan’s expression darkened slightly. He probably hadn’t known that before.

Of course, the plot hadn’t developed that far yet. Guan Ciyan hadn’t even met Jian Buqing.

Now that Jian Yang had told him in advance about Jian Buqing and Guan Jingyu’s relationship, with Guan Ciyan’s pride, he probably wouldn’t like Jian Buqing as much anymore—at least not so much that he would ruin himself over it.

This was his gift to Guan Ciyan in return for all the things he had given him.

Jian Yang held his breath, waiting for Guan Ciyan to question him—how he knew, what kind of dealings the Jian family had with Guan Jingyu. His mind worked rapidly, trying to string together a plausible explanation. But at this point, even Guan Jingyu and Jian Buqing hadn’t met yet.

It would be hard to explain this foresight.

As soon as Guan Ciyan opened his mouth, Jian Yang regretted it. He had been too impulsive. If he wanted to thank him, he should have waited until later.

But to his surprise, Guan Ciyan simply asked, “Then what about you?”

Jian Yang blinked. The hundred responses he had prepared were now useless. Unsure if he had misunderstood the question, he hesitated and stammered, “Me? I… like sir the most.”