Remember the mission of choosing Guan Ciyan first, loving Guan Ciyan the most, and always prioritizing Guan Ciyan.

This was the foundation he left in the Guan family.

“Like?” Guan Ciyan repeated. It seemed like a question, but his steady gaze already held the answer.

“Like!” Jian Yang nodded firmly.

Guan Ciyan leaned back further, resting his arm on the back of Jian Yang’s chair. From the front, it looked like he was holding Jian Yang in his arms.

“Jian Yang,” Guan Ciyan called his full name, “how many days have you been at the Guan house?”

Jian Yang sat up straight, uncertain. “Three days… I think?”

“You don’t even remember how many days you’ve been here.” Guan Ciyan nodded. “Yet, you’re always running outside. You leave earlier than I do and return later. By the time I get home, you’re already asleep. Jian Yang, do you even have my contact information?”

Jian Yang thought for a moment. “I only have the driver’s number.”

“Mm.” Guan Ciyan lifted his arm slightly, sending a chill down Jian Yang’s neck.

“Jian Yang, is this what you call ‘liking’?”

Jian Yang shuddered, and his cake fork slipped from his hand onto the floor.

Oh no! He had only done the eye-acting but forgot the action-acting.

These past few days at the Guan house, he had been busy running to the hospital and looking for work.

He hadn’t had the chance to solidify his role as “the one who likes Mr. Guan the most.”

What to do? What to do?!

Jian Yang screamed internally in panic.

“Bring another fork over,” Guan Ciyan instructed Uncle Zhang.

He then took Jian Yang’s reddened hand, placed the fork back in it, and said, “Let me teach you something else—don’t take others for fools. Stop acting poor, and put away your little tricks.”

The underlying meaning: You’re not qualified to play games with me.

Guan Ciyan’s expression was calm, as if he had already seen through everything. It made Jian Yang instinctively want to apologize.

Wait. No.

Guan Ciyan might just be teasing him again, trying to bait him. This bastard was always saying one thing while thinking another. Right now, he was probably testing him.

Jian Yang gripped the spoon, took a deep breath, and squeezed his eyes shut, looking utterly wronged. “Mr. Guan, you’re falsely accusing me. Do you want to kick me out?”

He opened his eyes, and a misty warmth surfaced in them. His almond-shaped eyes filled with unshed tears.

Guan Ciyan’s breath caught for a second. His gaze locked onto Jian Yang’s golden-hued eyes, shimmering with moisture.

“I’ve already worked so hard, but you stand too high. If I only wait, can I ever reach your side?” Jian Yang looked up, tears welling up like a fountain, trailing down his thin cheeks, dripping from his chin—landing directly onto Guan Ciyan’s hand that rested at his side.

It was still warm.

Guan Ciyan’s reaction was delayed by two beats. His eyes lingered on Jian Yang before he slowly lowered his gaze. After two seconds, he finally noticed the tear. Uncertain, he rubbed it with his fingertip, as if trying to confirm whether it was real.

Then he suddenly smiled. When he lifted his gaze again, there was a trace of appreciation. “You want to stand by my side?”

Jian Yang couldn’t decipher his smile, so he just nodded instead of speaking—better to say less and make fewer mistakes.

Seeing him nod with teary eyes, looking dazed and confused, Guan Ciyan further affirmed Jian Yang’s talent in acting—his powerful emotional expressiveness, his ability to enter a role instantly, and his near-impossible-to-detect deception.

The lingering warmth of that tear remained on his skin. Guan Ciyan agreed, “Alright. At least I finally see someone who’s not just saying they want to ‘accompany’ me. People these days…”

Guan Ciyan sighed, gazing out the window. “They can’t even be bothered to come up with a decent excuse before trying to deceive me.”

He patted the back of Jian Yang’s head, smiling faintly as if entertained. “Let me teach you one more thing. If you want someone to choose you, you either prove your exceptional worth—or make sure they don’t dare to choose anyone else.”

Jian Yang’s eyes flickered. “My acting is definitely better than Jian Buqing’s. Choosing me for the role would be a better decision.”

Guan Ciyan opened his mouth, his lips moved, but no words came out. His hand rested on the back of Jian Yang’s head again as he turned to face him, slowing his speech. “Jian Buqing’s greatest value lies in the backing of the Jian family and Jian Films. You’re shooting a TV drama now, but what if Director Xu wants to make a theatrical movie in the future?”

Guan Ciyan wasn’t used to teaching people. He wanted to use the simplest language to make Jian Yang understand, but he also wanted Jian Yang to come to the conclusion himself. So he only said a third of the sentence before gesturing for Jian Yang to fill in the rest.

“But I have nothing,” Jian Yang admitted sincerely, his regret genuine. “I can’t make Director Xu afraid to use Jian Buqing. He’s a director; no one can control his decisions.”

Tap.

Guan Ciyan’s fingers lightly tapped the table, a glint of intrigue flashing in his eyes. Jian Yang came to him with a purpose—outwardly pitiful and obedient, but inwardly stubborn and unwilling to concede. He had suffered but never begged for pity.

Guan Ciyan appreciated and liked this trait. He had assumed Jian Yang was just prideful, afraid of looking weak. But he hadn’t expected Jian Yang to readily admit that he had nothing—so straightforward, so composed.

It was completely different from the information Guan Ciyan had gathered. According to his investigation, Jian Yang had been in contact with many powerful figures, never disobeyed the will of his family, and desperately sought their approval. He had once even chased after Guan Jingyu shamelessly.

Now, Jian Yang still looked like a hopeless case, but he wasn’t someone who could be easily humiliated. If Guan Ciyan treated him like others—pressuring or threatening him—Jian Yang would fight back until both of them lost. It left him with no choice but to go along with Jian Yang’s pace, often getting so frustrated he could barely breathe.

Guan Ciyan’s gaze fell on Jian Yang’s slightly pursed lips. His lip bead stood out, full and prominent. “I just said—you need to learn how to use the resources around you.”

Jian Yang turned his head, the back of his head brushing against Guan Ciyan’s palm, his hair tickling Guan Ciyan’s skin. Guan Ciyan instantly withdrew his hand.

“You mean… you?” Jian Yang asked.

“So stupid.” Guan Ciyan sounded serious this time—not mocking, just stating a fact. “Do you want to sign with Fuyu Shengtang? Fuyu’s resource exchange with Director Xu is on a whole different level compared to Jian Films.”

“Oh.” Jian Yang suddenly understood.

Guan Ciyan’s lips finally curved.

Jian Yang continued, “So all those gifts you gave me were to make me work for you?”

Guan Ciyan stood up, snatched the chocolate cake from Jian Yang’s hand, and his expression turned terrifyingly cold. “You’re gaining weight but not gaining brains. Stop eating.”

He even personally threw the cake into the trash.

Leaving Jian Yang with nothing but his broad, retreating back.

The whole thing took three seconds. Jian Yang was still processing it, dumbfounded. “Why is he mad again?”

Uncle Zhang shook his head, approached Jian Yang, and asked, “Young Master, would you like another piece of cake?”

Jian Yang was already full. “Uncle Zhang, why is Mr. Guan angry?”

Uncle Zhang had been listening and understood. “Sir has never been so patient in teaching someone before. His personal assistants were picked from hundreds of people—if they weren’t suitable, they were replaced immediately. He never taught them.”

Jian Yang’s mouth fell open. “Oh my god, was he teaching me just now? What was he teaching?”

Uncle Zhang was also surprised. He looked at Jian Yang for a moment before speaking. “Young Master, you are pure-hearted. Perhaps it’s best you don’t learn these things. Sir won’t let anyone take advantage of you anyway.”

Jian Yang muttered, “That sounded like he was calling me dumb.”

Midnight Encounter

In the middle of the night, Jian Yang lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He wanted this opportunity so badly, but Guan Ciyan was right—compared to Jian Buqing, aside from having slightly better acting skills, he was completely at a disadvantage in every other aspect.

However, for this kind of youthful school drama—especially an ensemble cast—one person’s weaker acting skills wouldn’t matter much. As long as the rest of the main cast performed well, it could make up for it.

“Ugh, this is so frustrating.” Jian Yang crawled out of bed, slipped on his slippers, and walked to Guan Ciyan’s door, scratching at it like a little sunbeam.

Guan Ciyan’s room was never locked, and there was no study in the villa either, as if there were no secrets at all. Not hearing a response, Jian Yang took it upon himself to push the door open.

As soon as he cracked the door, he was met with Guan Ciyan’s death glare.

“Eh? Ah, why are you still mad?”

Jian Yang was startled, blurting out his thoughts before he could stop himself.

He immediately covered his mouth and mumbled, “Don’t be so petty. I didn’t know you were trying to teach me.”

Guan Ciyan, half-reclining on the bed while looking at his iPad, raised an eyebrow. “I’m petty?”

Jian Yang quickly ran over to the bed. Guan Ciyan’s loosely tied bathrobe barely covered his broad chest. Jian Yang forcefully controlled his gaze. “No, no, I’m just dumb. You know that. I was born not-so-bright—even my parents dislike me.”

Guan Ciyan had already been quite angry, but hearing this only made him angrier.

“Then get out. Don’t waste my time.”

Jian Yang: …Why isn’t this following the usual script?

He froze, standing there blankly, his golden eyes blinking as his lips parted slightly, unable to come up with a response.

Guan Ciyan saw through him immediately—this little thing had been acting again, only to be thrown off track when Guan Ciyan interrupted, leaving his brain momentarily stuck.

Suddenly, Guan Ciyan couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. His anger disappeared in an instant. He lowered his gaze back to his iPad, but the emails passing by his eyes didn’t register at all—his mind was filled with Jian Yang’s silly, dazed golden eyes.

“Sir…” Jian Yang called out softly, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Guan Ciyan’s Adam’s apple moved. His voice was cold. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

“But… I don’t want to sign with Fuyu Shengtang yet,” Jian Yang lowered his head, tugging at his shirt. “I don’t know what to do.”

Guan Ciyan put down his iPad and looked up. Jian Yang had tightly shut his eyes, his face flushed red.

That restrained laughter finally broke free. The corners of Guan Ciyan’s lips curled up slightly as he sighed, “You really are a bit dumb.”

Jian Yang’s already pressed lips tightened even more, his closed eyes squeezing shut even harder—bracing himself for another round of scolding.

But Guan Ciyan simply said, “No one is forcing you to sign with Fuyu. In the Guan family, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Even if you don’t sign, you still have bargaining power. Go back and sort through what you have. If you still can’t figure it out, come ask me tomorrow.”

Jian Yang tilted his head.

…Wait, I didn’t get scolded???

He cautiously opened one eye, revealing half of his golden pupil, and saw the faint amusement in Guan Ciyan’s eyes.

Dazed, he fully opened his eyes.

Facing Guan Ciyan’s unwavering gaze, he forgot to look away.

“Sir…”

Guan Ciyan blinked at him in response. “Go back and think it over.”

“Oh.” Jian Yang seemed to understand something… but also, maybe not.

His mind was spinning with different thoughts—one moment, it was Guan Ciyan saying he had bargaining power, the next, it was wondering why Guan Ciyan hadn’t scolded him, and then, those slightly smiling eyes.

“Jian Yang,” Guan Ciyan’s deep voice called him back, “You can’t wait for my answers forever. You need to learn how to find your own way.”

Jian Yang turned back to look at him. “Understood, sir.”

Guan Ciyan’s gaze remained steady as he watched Jian Yang walk out. The faint smile in his eyes never faded.

Bathed in that gaze, Jian Yang felt an inexplicable sense of security, like a drifting boat finally reaching the shore. As he closed the door for Guan Ciyan, he whispered, “Goodnight, sir.”

The door shut, cutting off Guan Ciyan’s gaze—yet, somehow, Jian Yang still felt as if he was being watched.

Why did it seem like… tonight, Guan Ciyan was just a little bit… gentle?