Chapter 43

The paparazzo eagerly took more than a dozen photos. No matter how he changed angles, the shots all looked similar, and he grew anxious: “Don’t just hug there—look at each other affectionately! Maybe throw in a kiss too?”

Huo Siheng, always highly alert to his surroundings, glanced sideways at the figure on the snow by the tree. He subtly leaned closer and whispered to her: “It’s cold. Let’s go back.”

The paparazzo, holding his breath, waited for more intimate moments, having already imagined the headline: Explosive! Mu He and mysterious man kiss in the snow! But to his frustration, they were leaving. With no other cover around, following them risked exposure, so he could only watch them disappear.

At least he had gotten the scoop, and an exclusive one at that. Selling it would make a tidy sum, making the late-night stakeout worthwhile. He shook snow off himself and headed to a nearby shop for a warm drink.

Just as he turned the corner outside the hospital, a stranger, a young man, blocked him. The man clearly had ill intent. Instinctively, the paparazzo protected his camera, nervously looking around: “Brother, what do you want?”

Zhang Gong, hands in his coat pockets, raised his chin toward the camera: “Make an offer.”

The paparazzo sized him up, giving a nervous laugh: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zhang Gong, unwilling to waste time, said: “I want what you just took.”

The paparazzo felt a chill down his spine—had he already been targeted?

He glanced around again, swallowing nervously: “You really want to buy it?”

“Cut the crap.”

Zhang Gong’s patience was exhausted: “Make an offer.”

A wise man doesn’t take immediate losses. The paparazzo thought for a moment: “She… she’s a top star. An exclusive like this is worth at least this much.”

He gave a number.

Seeing the man frown, he added: “I’m not inflating it. That’s the going rate. You can check. We all have to make a living.”

Zhang Gong knew he was right—easier to resolve things with money than create an enemy, especially in the complex entertainment industry. Spend money to solve problems when possible. One less enemy is one more friend: “Fine. I’ll pay double.”

The paparazzo couldn’t believe his ears: “Double?!”

Such luck?

Zhang Gong added a condition: “But never approach her again.”

The paparazzo thought: she’s not easy to approach anyway. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been cut out from getting exclusive access. In this line of work, after several years, he knew the ropes. Mu He had gone from online scandals to no traceable negative news. What did that mean?

Buying the photos from him at double price clearly signaled something.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t seen the man’s face and didn’t know who he was. One thing was certain: he was someone untouchable.

Once the money arrived, the paparazzo handed over the camera with both hands to show sincerity.

Zhang Gong received it, raised his chin slightly, and motioned for him to leave.

After the paparazzo left, Zhang Gong called Huo Siheng: “Young Master Huo, it’s taken care of.”

Huo Siheng and Mu He were still on their way back. She had fallen asleep leaning against him, unaware that a crisis had been averted. He lowered his voice: “Mm.”

“There’s one more thing. Zhong Shao went to Deep City these past few days and has been getting close to some antiquities traffickers…”

Ever since Huo Zhong lost his Southeast Asian financial routes and key aides, he likely realized he had no chance of becoming heir and was suppressed within the Huo family. Hence, he turned to smuggling antiques. Choosing a path of ruin instead of proper channels.

Huo Siheng’s tone was hard to read: “Keep an eye on his movements at all times.”

Mu He slept fitfully, vaguely hearing him talk. She brushed her nose against his shirt, inhaling the familiar crisp scent, feeling inexplicably at ease.

Huo Siheng ended the call, subtly adjusting his posture. She nestled into his arm, pressing closely, her slight frown smoothing out.

The car moved steadily. Streetlights streamed in, lighting her porcelain-like profile with soft shadows. The veins on her slender neck were visible, giving her a delicate beauty.

Huo Siheng closed his eyes, breathing in sync with her.

The night deepened, traffic thinned, and the evening stars accompanied them overhead.

Soon after the Lantern Festival, March arrived as promised, with spring warmth and blooming flowers.

Since finishing her role in Immortal Sword Romance, Mu He hadn’t taken another acting job. One reason was following the company’s plan, attending various events to consolidate her popularity. Even during free time, she took script lessons to maintain her skills. The other reason was that Ye Xi had received many scripts, but none suited her.

Mu He’s success in magazines and variety shows was evident, but she lacked a signature work. Star Universe gave her the best resources, raising her status. Good scripts and actors complement each other; careful selection was required.

Ye Xi picked three scripts.

The first: a modern youth romance about a wealthy man and Cinderella, a sweet, heart-fluttering story, full of romance from start to finish. Ye Xi’s reason: prime-time broadcast, cross-platform streaming, well-known director, and a lead actor guaranteed to attract viewers and increase Mu He’s value. Downside: fast-consumption entertainment, unlikely to win professional awards.

The second: a historical female-lead drama, following a woman from fourteen to seventy, interacting with three generations of emperors. Big production and investment, award-winning director. Downsides: male lead’s fanbase was intense, co-stars often targeted, and a wealthy female supporting actor with script influence could alter roles.

The third: spy drama Northern City Beauty, set during the eight-year war of resistance, featuring female student Bai Xiaoxiao who becomes a nightclub dancer, the “White Rose,” to gather intelligence, ultimately sacrificing herself to save the city’s citizens.

Deep themes, three-dimensional characters, excellent production, but low budget and low pay.

Mu He barely hesitated: “Xi Jie, I want to choose Northern City Beauty.”

Ye Xi agreed but still asked: “Why?”

For other artists, Ye Xi would have pushed the first script—easy fame and fortune. Mu He was different; she wouldn’t settle, and even against the wind, she would move forward. Northern City Beauty was difficult and challenging, but a success would be a milestone in her acting career.

Mu He looked serious: “I like the heroine’s name.”

The wind chills by the Yi River; the hero departs, never to return.

Ye Xi laughed at her: “So trivial?”

“No.”

Mu He shook her head, faint smile: “Because I like her, I can enter her life and truly become her.”

Impressed, Tan Mian gave a thumbs-up.

Thus, the next project was decided.

Mu He brought the good news home to share with Huo Siheng, but he returned with less pleasant news: his cousin was engaged, and he had to attend the engagement.

Mu He confirmed: “Your cousin is getting engaged to that ex-fiancée?”

Receiving confirmation, she asked: “For how many days?”

The engagement itself was trivial. Huo Siheng’s main reason for returning to the Huo family was finalizing his position as heir. Family ceremonies were complex, more elaborate than Spring Festival. He wasn’t sure how long it would take, only vaguely: “About a week.”

Mu He pouted: “So long?”

With clear intent, Huo Siheng kissed her immediately. Soon, her face was flushed, soft in his arms.

Panting slightly, she poked his chest: “You must return on time, or I’ll deduct points for each day late.”

“Can I ask,” he whispered with a smile at her temple, “how many points do you have now?”

She hummed: “Barely passing.”

“If you return early, how many points added per day?”

“Zero.”

“Huo Siheng, what are you doing?”

Since no points were added, why not gain a little extra benefit?

Huo Siheng lifted her onto the sofa, pressing and kissing her repeatedly.

This farewell, sweetened and infused with romance by the kiss, left Mu He savoring it, making the waiting time less unbearable. She knew he would return to her.

During this time, Ding Wu stayed in A City, on one hand gathering information about his daughter, and on the other keeping tabs on Madam Qin, hoping to find clues from her daily life—but all in vain.

At first, he thought Aunt You’s claim of never having children was fabricated. After all, she knew better than he did: a woman who had borne a child had almost no chance of marrying into a wealthy family.

But things didn’t seem as simple as he thought. With the Ding family’s network, finding someone in a vast sea of people shouldn’t be difficult—so why was there still no news?

He even suspected that the so-called daughter was entirely fabricated by You Fenfang, that she didn’t exist in this world at all.

Once he calmed down, Ding Wu realized there seemed to be an invisible force subtly resisting him, misleading his senses, confusing his perceptions, playing him around. He didn’t think You Fenfang had such abilities—then who could it be?

He had no clue.

Exhausted mentally and physically, Ding Wu fell ill, his fever unrelenting, consciousness hazy. In his mind, a little girl’s figure kept swaying. She never spoke, only watched quietly, stirring his heart and soul into turmoil.

After two days and a night of unconsciousness, Ding Wu finally woke. Illness struck like a mountain, leaving like a drawn thread. His head throbbed, bones felt shattered and remade, and he didn’t even have the strength to get out of bed.

When Granny Xu heard of his illness, she was anxious and worried. If not for fearing that her old bones would only get in the way, she would have come to care for him. Once he woke, she called the nurse every half hour to check on him.

Ding Wu ate half a bowl of bland porridge, regaining a little strength. The nurse conveyed Granny Xu’s concern. He shook his head and smiled. Old age was like this, always fussing, exactly like the old lady back then.

The old lady…

Ding Wu suddenly sat up too forcefully. Dizzy, he toppled back. The nurse hurried to help him: “Mr. Ding, are you alright?”

He gasped like someone just rescued from drowning, cold sweat beading his forehead. He didn’t bother wiping it: “Phone! Quickly!”

Once he got the phone, he immediately dialed the Ding family. On the line was Granny Xu: “Granny Xu, do you remember? You once told me that a female singer on TV looked very much like my mother.”

Granny Xu had a sharp memory: “Yes, yes! She was beautiful.”

“Do you remember her name?”

“How could I remember? Let me think…”

Ding Wu laughed out loud, for a full minute without stopping. Granny Xu feared his high fever had fried his brain, almost giving her a heart attack: “Xiao Wu, don’t scare me like that!”

“Granny Xu,” he said with absolute certainty, “her name is Mu He.”

Although Mu He’s identity wasn’t yet confirmed, Ding Wu had found her photo online. At first glance, he was sure she was his daughter. His heart overflowed with unprecedented tenderness. He raised a hand to cover his eyes, but couldn’t hide the warmth surging through him.

Xi Heng had been away for five days. Mu He successfully signed a contract with the Northern City Beauty production team, memorized her lines, and prepared her character biography. Meanwhile, Immortal Sword Romance entered post-production, and she was recommended by Director Xie to do dubbing for Xiyin.

In the afternoon, Mu He had just left the recording studio when Zhong Li Fei whisked her away to eat hotpot.

Both were busy, occasionally chatting on WeChat. Their last meeting was at the wrap-up press conference in January. Now that they had a rare chance to sit together, there was no shortage of things to talk about.

Zhong Li Fei knew plenty of industry gossip. With no one else to share with, he spoke freely to Mu He: who secretly married, who got cozy with a big star, which model couple appeared loving but had actually divorced…

Mu He listened, astonished: “They really divorced?”

At a South City brand event, the couple was present, flirting with reporters, acting in perfect sync. Only their acting was truly impressive.

“Mu, you’re too naive.”

“By the way, how’s your relationship progressing?”

Mu He lightly bit her chopsticks: “I haven’t agreed to him yet.”

“Well, good for you,” Zhong Li Fei praised, “lasting longer than I expected.”

Mu He smiled smugly: “I’m so beautiful, hard to chase, you know.”

“However,” Zhong Li Fei shifted tone, analyzing as an experienced observer, “I feel like you’ve fallen in love.”

Mu He couldn’t quite explain. He was supposed to be the pursuer, but she felt treated like a girlfriend. He often teased her, making her blush and heart race with no defense.

She voiced this puzzlement.

Zhong Li Fei laughed heartily. She wiped away the tear of laughter at her eye corner: “I can’t, Mu Yangyang, you’re going to kill me laughing.”

“You’re already in love, aren’t you?!”

Mu He’s eyelashes fluttered with her heart.

“Hahaha, I finally see it. He’s always held the initiative.”

“So, what should I do next?”

Zhong Li Fei shrugged: “Accept it.”

She hooked her finger: “Come, I’ll teach you a retreat-advance strategy.”

A new world slowly opened for Mu He. After listening, her face flushed bright red: “Will this really work?”

Zhong Li Fei said meaningfully: “Spring is just right—enjoy it while you can.”

After finishing hotpot and returning to Jin Yue Bay, Mu He got out at the door to walk and digest, thinking over Zhong Li Fei’s advice. Before she could figure it out, her gaze was caught by a tall figure under the streetlight.

He was still dressed in black from head to toe, relaxed posture, head lowered, seemingly lost in thought.

Under the bright moon, he stood apart from the world.

The scene of New Year’s Eve almost replayed before her eyes. Mu He couldn’t help feeling a thousand blooms of heart blossoming.

Sensing something, he lifted his eyes, catching her gaze and her heart with precision.

On this intoxicating spring night, overwhelming longing surged. Everything around disappeared. In Mu He’s world, only he walked slowly toward her. Her heart fluttered, springtime charm overflowing from her eyes.

She thought: perhaps, it’s time.

Not as impulsive as last time, yet not fully rational either. Only heart-throbbing excitement remained, like the first moments of love.

He was nearly within reach.

Mu He cleared her throat: “Mr. Xi, I formally notify you that our friendship has come to an end.”

It was time for love to develop.

The man raised his brow, a look of incredulity on his handsome face, teasing: “Don’t tell me it’s another false hope?”

She blinked: “What do you think?”

He held her soft arms, pulling her into his embrace, and whispered: “Are you sure?”

Mu He laughed softly, recalling how last time she became a former girlfriend in a flash, leaving him some psychological shadow. She lifted her head, smiling: “Now, you may kiss your girlfriend.”