Chapter 45: Forty-Five Fire

An Yixin returned to the room. Ji Changhai got off the bed and walked up behind her to massage her shoulders.

“Why do you have to make everything so clear? From now on, I fear there won’t even be a superficial harmony in the house.”

Chu Tian moved in with Lang Lang and even discussed marriage so quickly not because they were deeply in love, but because of mutual interests. Although Chu Tian was the only daughter in her family, ever since her father married a much younger wife a year ago and was eager to have children—especially hoping for a son—Chu Tian grew anxious, afraid her father would go back on the promised inheritance. She got together with Ji Lang after they reached an agreement: Chu Tian would use the Ji family’s backing to secure the family fortune at the time of marriage, and once it was done she would hand over shares of the Chu company to Ji Lang as compensation.

This is also why the two put on a show of affection in public, but at night Ji Lang never asks what time Chu Tian comes back, and even if she doesn’t return he never says a word.

Ji Changhai and An Yixin had heard about it earlier, but Ji Lang was an adult and had his own considerations, so the two did not force their way in and pretended not to know.

An Yixin sighed, “We can’t really let her split Ranran and Duoduo apart, can we?”

Thinking of the anonymous email that arrived in her private inbox today, An Yixin was absolutely furious; outsiders didn’t want Ji Ran and Yan Duo to be happy, either Causing trouble online would be one thing, but she was family—yet she went and dug up plenty of rumors about couples whose relationships were strained, even fabricating fake news that Yan Duo had an affair with her company’s boss and that Ji Ran was flirting with some female celebrity collaborator. She thought herself clever and had even enlisted an entertainment blogger to post it tomorrow, not knowing someone had already been watching her!

She also thought of that particularly private email known only to family; An Yixin understood in her heart that Ji Ran had probably long been unhappy with Chu Tian and his eldest brother.

An Yixin didn’t blame Ji Ran for this; on the contrary, she felt guilty toward him. Now her son wanted to use her to speak up on behalf of his daughter-in-law—how could An Yixin refuse to help?

Moreover, deep down, she truly liked Yan Duo and hoped she and Ji Ran could stay together.

At this moment An Yixin was not aware that Ji Ran and Yan Duo had already explained things to each other. What she saw in the email that worried her most was the fake news being posted online — it would deepen the misunderstanding between the two and might really lead to a divorce. So her first instinct was to lay everything out to Chu Tian and stop her foolish actions.

Ji Changhai: “Aren’t you afraid that after exposing it, Langlang will hate you?”

An Yixin smiled bitterly, “Are you sure he wouldn’t hate me if I didn’t expose it?”

When it came to the two sons, An Yixin felt especially exhausted. Although Ji Lang had always worked hard growing up, his talent was average; Ji Ran, on the other hand, was naturally gifted. At fifteen he invested his pocket money and made a million in under a year. The couple pinned their hopes on Ji Ran inheriting the Ji enterprise and taking it even further. Yet in Ji Ran’s first month at university, Ji Lang threatened to kill himself, accusing them of being too biased and insisting that he was their biological son too, demanding an important position in the Ji company right after graduating.

To appease him, An Yixin had no choice but to agree. Not only did she divide up the shares, she also encouraged their youngest son, who showed interest in films, to enter the entertainment industry. Over the years, An Yixin had believed that this arrangement would benefit both sons: the elder would comfortably stay in the family company, and the younger would thrive in showbiz. But the reality was that the elder son’s performance was mediocre and his penchant for shady shortcuts was sharper than anyone’s, while the younger son never abandoned his professional instincts—over the years, his business acumen had already earned him a fortune, he just never opened his heart to them.

No matter how you look at it, it was their failure as parents; they couldn’t blame anyone else, so they alone had to bear the bitter consequences. An Yixin sighed—many things couldn’t be undone, and all she could do now was try to lessen the guilt she felt toward her younger son.

Jichang Hai said nothing when he heard this. If he hadn’t stubbornly kept holding on over the years, the Ji corporation would have long since declined, but who knew he had long wanted to let go, take his wife, and travel the world?

Sensing her husband’s mood, An Yixin patted the back of his hand and said, “You’ve worked hard.”

Ji Changhai thought of his extraordinarily gifted youngest son and said, “I wish Ranran would come back to the company.”

After saying that, both recalled how Ji Ran had resolutely refused to return to Ji Corporation not long ago, and they both fell silent.

It was midnight. Qi Sixian, waiting for a call, hadn’t slept. She sat at the head of the bed scrolling her phone. Half an hour later, the phone finally rang. hongteowd.com

“Qi Jie, we just got word—Chu Tian canceled the order.”

“Okay, got it. Thanks for handling it.”

After hanging up, Qi Sixian put away her phone and lay down.

In the afternoon a familiar colleague told her that someone had spent a large sum trying to smear Yan Duo and Ji Ran, collecting a lot of images, videos, and photos, and even creating many fake videos.

When Qi Sixian learned the person behind it was Chu Tian, she only told Ji Ran—Chu Tian’s younger uncle—to let him decide; his response surprised her greatly. He simply gave her an email address and told her to send all the evidence there. Things went more smoothly than she imagined: less than three hours after she sent the email, Chu Tian backed off.

Lying in the dark, Qi Sixian couldn’t help but think that Yan Duo’s luck was both good and bad. The bad was that the newly promoted sister-in-law was bent on ruining her; the good was that when such a crisis arose, there was always someone to help resolve everything and let her get through it unscathed.

The next day, before seven, when Yan Duo followed Zeng Meng’s car to the set, she noticed there seemed to be a lot more people outside: reporters with cameras and groups of girls who looked like students and office workers standing together watching.

Zeng Meng’s reaction looked even bigger than Yan Duo’s; after seeing the variety of people outside, she immediately draped the sun-protective jacket from the seat over Yan Duo’s head.

“Don’t you dare lift it up, or they’ll spot you.”

The scenes online yesterday were nothing short of turbulent and strange. If it weren’t for Ji Ran finally posting on Weibo, Zeng Meng felt those anonymous attackers would have kept digging until they had stripped Yan Duo completely bare.

And the movie they’re shooting now hasn’t been officially announced, nor has any information about the shooting location been released. With reporters and fans all showing up, someone must have leaked the information.

Hearing Zeng Meng say that, Yan Duo, who had planned to take off her sun-protective jacket, hesitated. In the end, for the sake of her life, she decided to keep it on.

Before long, Zeng Meng’s car pulled safely into the crew compound, but Ji Ran, who arrived not long after them, wasn’t so lucky. Even with Ma Peng driving and Ji Ran sitting in the back, their car was surrounded by fans and the media as they approached the parking lot.

Fans shouted Ji Ran’s name at the top of their lungs, and reporters swarmed in after them.

“Ji Ran, can you tell us why you suddenly got married?”

“Someone said your wife is currently in the same production as you. Is that true?”

“You suddenly announced your marriage—did you consider the feelings of your fans?”

……

The reporters’ questions were like machine-gun fire, crowding the car door and relentlessly “spraying” at Ji Ran inside.

At that moment, the security guards from the crew rushed over, and order in the parking lot was quickly restored. When a guard signaled for Ma Peng to drive the car into the lot, Ji Ran got out instead, and the first thing he said to the fans brought tears to their eyes.

“You came so early—have you all eaten?”

The reporters present also seemed taken aback by Ji Ran’s sudden question; some couldn’t quite react.

Ji Ran didn’t say much either. He turned and sent Ma Peng to buy some food nearby. “Buy more—these reporter brothers probably haven’t eaten either.”

The reporters were stunned for a few seconds; after glancing at one another, someone else asked whether he had considered the fans’ feelings when announcing the marriage.

Ji Ran looked at the fans and replied, “I’ve always been honored to have your affection and support; I truly appreciate your companionship over the years. The reason I haven’t dated or married isn’t because I’m maintaining a persona—it’s because I hadn’t met the right person. But now I’ve met her, and I want to cherish her and be with her forever. Please understand. I also hope you’ll cherish the people around you, spend more time with your family, and go home earlier—there are people at home who love you and are waiting for you.”

After speaking, he told the security guards beside him to find a shaded spot for the fans so they could eat breakfast before leaving. When they were ready to go, Ji Ran bowed to the fans and walked toward the entrance of the film crew.

Zeng Meng, who had witnessed the whole process from upstairs, sighed, “There’s a reason Teacher Ji has been popular for so long.”

Watching the crowd slowly disperse, Zeng Meng finally understood why people in the circle always said Ji Ran had high emotional intelligence; with just a few words he had turned the situation around, and that kind of ability wasn’t something everyone possessed.

Standing beside Zeng Meng, Yan Duo looked at Ji Ran’s figure, her whole being as if surrounded by pink bubbles, thinking smugly to herself, “So he really is the one I’ve liked for so long!”

After her happiness faded, Yanduo glanced at those female fans who kept looking back with each step as they walked away with the security guards, clearly reluctant. She asked herself silently: if she were still just a fan, didn’t know Ji Ran, had never crossed paths with him, how would she feel watching him announce on TV that he was getting married?

After Ji Ran returned from the makeup artist, Yan Duo slipped in quietly. While he was fastening the buttons of his costume, she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

“How come you came?”

What? Aren’t you afraid of being seen?” Ji Ran cast a glance at the woman who’d run faster than a rabbit that morning and teased.

Yan Duo let out two cheeky laughs, made no mention of standing Ji Ran up that morning and leaving Zeng Meng waiting in the car, and said, “I’m here to praise you! You’re so amazing — besides getting pregnant and giving birth, is there anything you can’t do?”

Yesterday and the days before, Yan Duo had been worried Ji Ran would be overwhelmed by gossip in the days to come, but after he announced he was married and a day passed, she no longer feared it at all. Ji Ran really was incredible, especially the thing he’d just said to his fans; Yan Duo felt particularly moved.

Hearing her, Ji Ran turned around, lowered his head, and kissed her once. “I can’t get pregnant myself, but I can get you pregnant. I think that’s pretty good.”

Yan Duo rose on her toes and kissed him again. Thinking of the question that had been on her mind, even though it would spoil the current pleasant atmosphere, she couldn’t help but ask, “I was just thinking, if I hadn’t met you and hadn’t married you, I’d probably be like that fan earlier—come to see you once, bury my fondness for you in my heart, and never bother you again. Tell me, if you hadn’t met me, who would you have liked?”

Yan Duo knew this was an utterly pointless hypothetical; even if asked, it might not yield an accurate answer. But once the question had surfaced in her head, she couldn’t shake it, and not asking felt unbearable.

Ji Ran refused to answer such unrealistic questions, and refused even more to entertain impossible scenarios.

“Did you not sleep well because you overdid it last night, so now you’re starting to imagine things again?”

She was displeased with this evasive, suddenly pedantic neurotic woman; she pouted and pressed, “Come on, tell me—who would you like?”

Ji Ran suddenly felt the sweet burden of raising a daughter—his daughter was only three, and in winter insisted on eating ice cream. He picked up Yan Duo and said earnestly, “Other than you, I won’t like anyone. In this life, the next life, and the life after that, I never will!”

Yan Duo, reassured by forcibly extracted words of love, finally smiled. Cheerfully she left Ji Ran’s makeup room to go shoot a scene.

Ji Ran watched her joyful back and murmured “little fool,” but the deep affection in his eyes turned to tears.