CHAPTER 47: HIS LITTLE JOY

"Are you planning to start your own company in the future?" Qi Jianyi casually shifted the conversation, her fingers delicately tearing into a warm meat bun. She took a slow bite, savouring the taste as her eyes flicked toward Song Chengfeng, waiting for his response.

Song Chengfeng’s chopsticks hovered midair for a brief moment before he resumed eating. He shook his head slightly, a calm smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I don’t have any such plans yet," he replied, his tone as light as the conversation they were having.

Qi Jianyi glanced up at him, her gaze curious yet silent. She wasn’t pressing him for answers, but the unspoken question lingered in the air between them—If not business, then what? Her eyes held a quiet persistence, one that Song Chengfeng couldn’t ignore.

Suppressing a smile, he leaned back in his seat and said, "I don’t want to do anything." The answer was brief, almost indifferent, but it was genuine.

Why should I do anything at all? he thought to himself. Life, to him, had become a mundane cycle of eating and sleeping. Anything more felt like a waste of energy.

Qi Jianyi’s lips curved into a knowing smile. Surprisingly, she didn’t argue against his self-proclaimed salted fish existence. Instead, she nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful.

"Exactly. Being a salted fish is better than working yourself to death," she said softly, her words carrying an unexpected sense of relief.

Her agreement, simple and unburdened by judgement, worked like a charm on Song Chengfeng. The tension in his shoulders melted away, and he relaxed fully into his chair, the ease in his posture reflecting the comfort her words had given him.

His eyes drifted back to her, curiosity sparking within him. "What about you? Are you going to venture into business?"

Though Qi Jianyi had once mentioned her lack of plans, it didn’t hurt to ask again. After all, people changed, and he couldn’t help but wonder if her path might shift.

"Business?" Qi Jianyi echoed, a slight furrow forming between her brows. She shook her head, her answer immediate and firm. "I don’t really like the idea of it. I prefer writing—manuscripts, stories, that sort of thing. It suits me better."

She spoke with a calm sincerity, as though there was no need to hide this part of herself. Why lie, especially in front of Song Chengfeng? Out of all the people in her life, he was the first who knew her as Qi Jianyi, not the young miss of the Qi family, not the legacy of another person’s expectations.

Here, with him, she didn’t have to pretend. She didn’t have to perform the role she’d been thrust into.

Song Chengfeng’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by her candour. He hadn’t expected her to admit it so easily, especially when she had never mentioned it in front of He Zeqing, who owned an entertainment company—a place where her writing could potentially flourish.

His thoughts must have been written all over his face because Qi Jianyi quickly caught on. A teasing smile curved her lips as she added, "I don’t want to tell Zeqing. He nags too much. I’d rather avoid the headache."

That earned a soft chuckle from Song Chengfeng. His lips twitched upward, unable to suppress the amusement spreading across his face. The once cold atmosphere between them slowly gave way to a warmth that filled the room.

There was something satisfying about being the one person who knew Qi Jianyi’s plans, even if they were small. In his eyes, Qi Jianyi wasn’t someone who shared easily, and that made this moment feel even more significant.

As he marveled at his newfound knowledge, Qi Jianyi, on the other hand, was struck by his smile. The perfect row of white teeth caught the light, his entire expression softened by a warmth she hadn’t seen before.

When was the last time he smiled like that? she wondered, unsure of what she had said to amuse him.

But even though she didn’t fully understand the reason for his laughter, she had no intention of interrupting it. She allowed him his quiet joy while she continued enjoying her meal.

"You like to write?" Song Chengfeng asked once his laughter subsided, his tone a little more serious now.

The question made her pause. Her chopsticks froze mid-motion as she considered it, the simplicity of the question stirring something deeper in her. ’Do I like to write?’

No one had ever asked her that. Not her parents, not her friends, not even her ex-lover. They had all assumed she likes it, simply because she spent so much time writing novels. Yet, the act of writing—was it something she truly enjoyed?

"I wonder," Qi Jianyi mused aloud, setting her chopsticks down and resting her chin in her hand. "No one’s ever asked me that before."

"You don’t even know?" Song Chengfeng teased lightly.

Qi Jianyi laughed softly. "It’s not that. I think I like it... sometimes. But other times, I can’t stand it. It’s frustrating. There are days when writing feels like breathing, and then there are days when I look at my work and feel completely drained."

She recalled those endless hours of staring at her screen, the words blurring together after weeks of effort. "I find joy in expressing my imagination," she admitted, her voice softer now, "but halfway through, it becomes difficult. That’s when I lose interest and can’t even look at it."

Song Chengfeng nodded, understanding the struggle all too well. "Have you published anything?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Not yet," Qi Jianyi replied, shaking her head as she took a sip of watermelon juice. "I don’t feel ready."

Song Chengfeng studied her carefully, guessing that maybe it wasn’t just a matter of readiness. Perhaps there was fear involved—fear of criticism, fear of failure. Searching for the right words, he gently offered, "You shouldn’t be afraid of criticism. It’s all part of the journey. Better to fail than to never try at all."

As he placed a slice of roasted duck into her bowl, Qi Jianyi felt a wave of confusion. His actions, his words—they seemed to carry a deeper meaning she couldn’t quite decipher.

It would be a lie to say that Qi Jianyi hadn’t noticed something odd about Song Chengfeng’s behaviour. The young master who appeared cold and distant was slowly revealing a side that felt... different. Warmer.

She wasn’t sure what to make of it. But for now, she decided to let things be. If they both silently agreed not to address it, they could continue as they always had. Dwelling on it too much might lead to unnecessary misunderstandings.

Brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead, she let out a light chuckle, her eyes softening. "Are you trying to comfort me with that? If I’m honest, it’s not working," she teased, though her tone was light-hearted.

Song Chengfeng’s lips twitched upward, but his gaze remained serious. "Don’t bother too much about other people’s opinions. Some of them would comment out of kindness to help you improve but most of the time, the majority of them would do it out of jealousy. If you ever become a scriptwriter, many actors will come running to be part of your projects. When it happens, you’ll be entangled by the feud between those actors and their fans might throw you hate instead. Miss Qi, if you take their jealousy words to heart, eventually, you’ll be the one who ends up hurt." His voice carried a quiet wisdom, eyes narrowing slightly as he advised her.

Though the field Qi Jianyi wished to venture into was much different from his, Qi Jianyi understood the truth in his words. The higher you climb, the more people will watch, waiting for you to stumble.

But, little did Song Chengfeng know, the woman opposite him was someone who had already experienced those things. Qi Jianyi knows best the feeling of being flattered by many actors and actresses not out of genuine appreciation but to ride the wave of her success.

They desired to act as a part of her work, not because of the plot but because of the popularity it brings. However, if there’s one thing the naive seventeen year old Qi Jianyi would not be budged on, it would be her picky attitude in choosing the main leads for her drama.

In order to find the best actress to play as the main lead, she offended many celebrities in the process, which led to immense pressure from both the investors and the director. She eventually gave in, thinking it would all turn out fine.

But when the drama aired, the public tore her apart. They accused her of compromising her artistic vision for money, blaming her for casting actors who lacked the talent to bring her beloved characters to life.

A mocking smile curved on her lips as the memories resurfaced. She thought that, how nice would it be if someone gave the advice Song Chengfeng just said to her when she first began her career. How different things might have been if someone had told her to stand her ground, that not all criticism should be taken to heart. To think that she has to hear such sincere advice from another world made Qi Jianyi feel as if her life was a joke.

How many people in her real world want to see her fall back then? Why? Was it because she was too young and inexperienced so they thought she’s not fit to be in the industry? Or because she was labeled as the most popular author at the time and they were jealous of it?

The more Qi Jianyi pondered over such thoughts, the more she felt like her life before was a joke in other people’s eyes. However, there’s no use crying over spilt milk. She couldn’t return to that year and avenge herself neither could she even meet them now.

Anyway, the majority of the people who threw hate at her were also the people who read her novels. They hated her for not giving justice to the character she wrote. When the main leads of the drama that was ’chosen’ by the investors failed to live up to the hype, the readers who had been actively participating on the drama became disappointed, blaming her for letting their favorite characters down.

In the end, Qi Jianyi could only sighed and laughed mockingly at herself and also pitied herself for being weak and unable to fight against those wealthy investors. Her momentary silence and the subtle mocking but sad smile was caught by Song Chengfeng.

Though the young master was confused, he did not say anything. He was well aware of the boundaries between them.

"Thank you, Young Master Song, for your advice," Qi Jianyi finally replied, her tone lighter. "But I’m not too worried about what others will say. Everyone has different tastes, after all. And if one of my works ever does get turned into a drama, I don’t think anyone in the industry would dare go against me. Zeqing’s there. He’d never let me suffer." She chuckled softly, imagining her cold yet protective cousin.

Qi Jianyi was hundred percent sure that He Zeqing would never let her suffer if she really wanted to join the industry as a scriptwriter.

"Well, Zeqing certainly wouldn’t," Song Chengfeng nodded in agreement. As the person who had experienced first hand how protective He Zeqing was towards Qi Jianyi, Song Chengfeng still had some trust in that guy.

"Well," Song Chengfeng began, a casual tone creeping into his voice, "since I’m not doing much these days, if you ever need a first reader for your manuscript, just give me a call."

Qi Jianyi raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. He was smooth, she’d give him that. Clearly, Song Chengfeng was eager to secure a spot as her first reader. If He Zeqing caught wind of it, there might be some playful rivalry between them.

"You’re booking the spot before the manuscript even exists?" she teased with a playful smirk.

"I’m just offering my help," Song Chengfeng replied with his usual stern tone, though the faint smirk on his lips betrayed his attempt to remain serious.

Qi Jianyi almost couldn’t contain her laughter. How could he keep such a straight face while saying something so shameless?