Chapter 33: It Was Zhou Yili Who Was Abandoned

# Fang Siqian's Relationship Exposed #
# Shen Jixing Casually Reveals the Truth #
# Shen Jixing Suggests Taking the Company to Court #
# Xingyu Media’s Vice President Chu Wen’s Email Is Just a QQ Number Q.Q #
...

Netizens woke up to find the sky had collapsed.

Fang Siqian, the gentle, warm male idol of domestic entertainment, rose to fame overnight with his iconic umbrella scene in the rain. Thanks to his devoted female fans, he was propelled into the top tier, and insiders jokingly called him a scourge of the manipulative boyfriend world. And now, he’s just gone and killed himself?

“To be precise, it was Emperor Shen who gave him the final blow.”

“Fang Siqian tried to use the control room to sabotage Emperor Shen, but Shen, in an act of righteousness, struck the company and sent Fang flying with a boomerang.”

“Star Baby: No one gets to survive, it’s just something I did on the side.”

“Wasn’t it just a live broadcast bug? What does Fang Siqian have to do with it?”

“You’re too naive, little sister. A blogger has already uncovered that Fang Siqian was carrying a black box. Check the playback at 28:36—he enters the second room, reaches into his pocket, and the control room lights behind him turn red… Also, there were only two people in the room. Who else could it be?”

“How did I get to be internet friends with you Sherlocks?”

“Happy Challenge” suspended filming.

The director turned his black box over and over, utterly baffled.

“I spent forty million on new technology, and it’s become their toy?”

It was clear now. Both of them came prepared; only he was truly innocent.

“But you’re famous now,” the assistant director said.

The director froze, clutching his black box like a pen: “Old Gong, be happy, Old Gong.”

“……”

He’s losing it again.

Meanwhile, the guests rested backstage.

Mostly, they were waiting to see how Fang Siqian would handle the PR crisis—or rather, how the production team would fix the variety show bug.

“Stop crying!”

Inside the nanny van, Fang Siqian shouted into the phone, “If you didn’t love taking pictures, would these photos have gotten out?”

The sobbing on the other end seemed to pause.

Fang Siqian suddenly realized something. “That’s not what I meant, Jiajia, you know. I’m just frightened by the trending topics.”

“Mm, I know.”

Her voice was delicate and choked. “I feel guilty too. I never thought that photo would leak out. Brother Fang, could you not…” break up with me.

She couldn’t live without Fang Siqian.

“Jiajia,” Fang Siqian cut her off. “You know how hard it’s been for me to get here. My career is as important to me as my life.”

“What about me?” she asked softly.

“You’re important too. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

Fang Siqian’s tone softened. “Jiajia, you’ve long been more than just a girlfriend to me. We’re indispensable family.”

“So, let’s just be family for life, okay?”

There was a long silence.

The small voice came again, full of pleading and pitiful hope. “I can cooperate by posting a breakup announcement on Weibo. We can keep it underground…”

“Jiajia!”

Fang Siqian’s tone grew harsh, then quickly gentled. “I don’t want this to happen again.”

“If you’re willing, wait until I succeed—when I’m strong enough to withstand the backlash—and then I’ll give you a future, okay?”

His voice rang firm and gentle, utterly convincing.

She had no words left to refuse.

“I understand. I agree to break up with you.” Her hand trembled around the phone as she asked in a whisper, “Brother, do you love me?”

The stone in Fang Siqian’s heart finally dropped.

He breathed out, voice tender and lingering. “Of course.”

He didn’t love her.

Fang Siqian hung up and called his agency. “It’s done. Get ready to clarify.”

There’s a standard script for exposed relationships in showbiz.

We dated, but we’ve broken up.

Currently single, focusing on career.

“She won’t cause trouble, right?” the agent asked.

“She won’t.”

“That’s good.” The agent thought it over, reassured. “You spent half an hour calming her down. Is she your favorite?”

Agents can never really control whether actors date or not—so long as there’s no scandal, they barely care. But now, it was necessary to probe.

“No.”

Hearing this, the agent was relieved.

Fang Siqian stepped out of the van, his voice cold as ice: “She’s not my favorite. She’s the one I fear most.”

...

In the leafy green backyard, the white nanny van stood quietly.

Moments after Fang Siqian left, a lazy, relaxed voice drifted from behind the car: “Can you get up yourself?”

“Help me.”

Shen Jixing set aside a plate of borrowed cat food, extending a pale, slender hand.

Zhou Yili almost felt he ought to respond with a proper “Yes, sir.”

What a pampered figure.

Shen Jixing had come out hoping to alleviate boredom by feeding a stray cat, only to catch Fang Siqian returning to his van. He’d meant to turn away, but suddenly Zhou Yili’s figure pressed down—

A rush of sweet grapefruit and fresh pine enveloped him.

Shen Jixing’s gaze paused: “Why are you…”

His mouth was covered by a palm.

His thin lips brushed against the rough lines, the warmth of the hand almost scalding.

“Shh.” Zhou Yili glanced meaningfully beneath the car. “Cat catching.”

The little tabby looked up at them with watery green eyes.

Meow?

Just then, Fang Siqian got into the van, which rocked, startling the tabby into the grass.

Shen Jixing still held the borrowed plate of cat food, silent, gesturing with his eyes.

“How do we leave now?”

Zhou Yili kept one hand wrapped around from behind, covering half of Shen Jixing’s face.

His palm easily enveloped most of Shen’s features, and occasionally his lips brushed the hand, like a thin slice of snow.

“We could leave, but we’d be seen,” Zhou Yili said.

“What would they say if they saw?”

“They’d say we were stealing…”

Zhou Yili met his cool, lifted gaze—lashes dense and chilled, radiating a captivating coldness.

“…Very suspicious.”

“……”

Shen Jixing gripped Zhou Yili’s burning wrist, removing the hand from his face.

This man ran hot; his palm was too warm.

“Let’s wait a bit,” Shen Jixing said.

He hadn’t expected Fang Siqian to spend half an hour on the phone with his girlfriend, coaxing her into a breakup.

It felt odd—fake breakups were common in the industry, easily resolved if both parties agreed. Why was Fang Siqian so eager to end things?

At least it was over.

Supported by Zhou Yili at the wrist, Shen Jixing was about to rise when Zhou suddenly pushed him against the car, dropping to one knee.

“Do all you big stars use the same lines when breaking up?”

Shen Jixing’s back hit the van lightly, his eyes dazed for two seconds.

He saw Zhou Yili’s fierce, sharp profile.

“What?”

“……”

Zhou Yili didn’t say he was deaf. “When breaking up with girlfriends.”

Shen Jixing was silent for two seconds. “I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Zhou Yili corrected coldly. Fang Siqian’s words seemed to stir something in his memory, and for the first time, he looked directly at Shen Jixing.

“Me.”

It sounded strange coming from Zhou Yili.

Shen Jixing thought so, too.

Zhou Yili had changed a lot.

Once, he was flamboyant, carefree, adorable—a fierce but soft little lion.

Now, his temper was bad and he was hard to handle.

But he admitted it.

This arrogant, domineering heir, returned in darkness, had been discarded.

“It doesn’t count,” Shen Jixing said, looking into his deep black eyes. “I’m not like him.”

“I never promised you a future.”