Chapter 30

Chapter 30

“You were in your room for so long just now.” Chi Tuo put down his glass and leaned back against the sofa. “After rebooting your brain, you fed the cat, brushed its teeth, and then brewed on this question for a long time before asking it?”

“No,” An Ye was very honest. “That question was just a setup.”

“If you don’t like me anymore, I want to sign a contract with you,” she said. “If you still like me…”

She hesitated, frowned: “That shouldn’t be the case, right? You’re not missing any arms or legs…”

Chi Tuo laughed angrily: “Do you have to be missing limbs to like you?”

An Ye was stunned, then shook her head with a smile: “No, that’s just a metaphor. After all, you’re a young talent who studied abroad and returned, with a bright future. You wouldn’t waste your remaining youth on a female celebrity.”

Chi Tuo frowned but didn’t dwell on the topic, asking, “What kind of contract do you want to sign with me?”

An Ye sighed in relief.

That meant she accepted that he probably didn’t like her anymore.

That was reasonable, and made it easier to continue the conversation.

“Actually, I want to ask you for help with two things.” An Ye didn’t hide it. Her last episode had come suddenly, and with the year-end rush, she needed to solve these problems quickly to focus on filming.

“Besides the things about narcolepsy written on that paper I gave you, there are some hidden risks.”

“When I have an episode, no physical abnormalities show up. KLS is a rare disease, and the causes, mechanisms, and treatments are almost completely unknown. It took nearly two years just to confirm the diagnosis. At first, doctors thought I had depression or bipolar disorder—both have symptoms of excessive sleep—and I took medicine for a while. Later they found it wasn’t related, did several 48-hour sleep monitoring tests, and finally made the diagnosis.”

“But after confirming it, there’s still no effective treatment. The doctor in charge of my case, Dr. Zuo, is one of the top neurologists in the country. He cares a lot about my condition and has tried many treatments over the years, but none worked.”

An Ye finished the wine in her glass; Chi Tuo refilled it halfway.

“You saw how crazy I get when I have an episode. I’ve driven my mom away several times. After no improvement, she started to get paranoid, afraid that I’d get worse, that I might kill my caregiver or jump off a building while asleep.”

“Her worries aren’t unreasonable. During episodes, I really can’t tell if I’m dreaming or in reality. Plus, I often act in movies as killers, victims, or spies, so… who knows if one day I really believe I’m still filming…”

Chi Tuo drank his glass and refilled it.

“Dr. Zuo is also worried. He said my constant suppression of real emotions might be one trigger for my narcolepsy. He even suggested that during episodes, I should let go more, face my relationships with people, and acknowledge my needs for food and sex.”

“I tried halfway, but ran off several assistants, and even my mom left…” An Ye smiled bitterly. “So since last year, I’ve been looking for a caregiver who can handle me physically without hurting me, tolerate my sharp words, and meet my needs when necessary, including food and sex.”

The ice cubes in the glass had melted halfway, clinking softly.

Chi Tuo listened quietly, as if what she said was just casual chit-chat about nice weather.

“Chi Tuo,” An Ye said, “the first thing I want you to help me with is to be my caregiver.”

“You’re a lawyer, so you can draft the agreement about this. The caregiving should be about what happened during my last episode.”

An Ye swirled the glass, considering her words carefully.

She hadn’t wanted to be so careful, since she’d thought about this for a long time. If not Chi Tuo, it would have to be someone else. She had had more than two episodes this past year, with durations getting shorter. Dr. Zuo said this wasn’t a good sign.

Among the few patients with KLS he treated, the general trend is: the shorter the episode duration, the more frequent future episodes become, some even developing into sudden onset narcolepsy.

The kind where you suddenly fall straight down without warning.

If that happened, she would basically have to say goodbye to being an actress — doing wire stunts or dangerous actions, she could suddenly collapse, ruining the crew and possibly herself.So this is something that must be solved as soon as possible. Chi Tuo had just happened to return at the right time, neither too early nor too late. He was the best candidate she could find at the moment.

But now, the way Chi Tuo looked at her made her feel strangely guilty. Thinking about how, after their reunion, she had directly closed her eyes and started undressing him, her position seemed a little awkward.

"Can I use the email address on your business card for personal emails?" she suddenly asked.

Chi Tuo frowned, then took a pen and sticky note from the drawer of the coffee table to write her a different email address.

She knew his personal email address already, but now she was pretending not to know and asked again. So Chi Tuo gave her another private email address.

She didn’t want to open the emails he had sent her over the past ten years. She didn’t even want to mention it.

"I’ll send you the records of my episodes from the past ten years," An Ye said, tapping her phone. "Actually, my episodes are pretty easy to care for. The issue with my sex drive only came up in the last two years. Before, the worst was not eating, but I still felt that low-fat meals were too bland, and when I’m not fully awake, I instinctively resist."

"Well..." Chi Tuo didn’t speak, but An Ye felt even more guilty. "Didn't you say we were on the same side? I’m really in a hurry with this matter. You saw it yourself. This time when I suddenly had an episode, there was no one useful around me."

Chi Tuo sighed. "We can’t use the term 'caregiver' here. I’m not a professional caregiver."

An Ye: "...Huh?"

"This kind of agreement is hard to sign," Chi Tuo said, tapping his glass. "There are two options. One is employment, which requires the person to have related caregiver credentials, and we would need them to sign a confidentiality agreement. This is the safest way."

"But I have sexual needs," An Ye interrupted him.

Clearly, she had thought about this method.

Chi Tuo paused, rubbed his temples, and repeated what An Ye had said: "Right, you have sexual needs, so you can approach this request from the angle of finding a sexual partner who can also care for you while you sleep. However, this method is hard to have any legal constraints."

"Intentional guardianship," An Ye said four words. "I will sign an intentional guardianship agreement, naming you as my guardian. During this period, any sexual activity that happens will be permitted by me while I’m conscious."

Chi Tuo froze.

Of course, he knew what this meant, but…

"Did you consult other lawyers before finding me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I’ve been planning this for two years," An Ye didn’t hide it from him.

"...So, if it wasn't me, it would have been someone else?" he finally realized the problem. "If I hadn't come back, would you have found someone else?"

An Ye nodded: "Yes."

Then she added, "But you're the best choice."

Chi Tuo stayed silent for about three seconds before tilting his head back and finishing the wine in his glass.

"Who were you originally planning to find?" he asked.

An Ye showed him a photo: "Qing Ze, from our company, signed under Yan Wan. I’ve been helping him build his platform for the past few years, doing minor roles, guest appearances, and basically helping him with everything."

Chi Tuo stared at the photo of Qing Ze, a male idol who was still somewhat popular, and the one An Ye had been rumored to be romantically linked with for the past ten years.

"His figure is okay, his health report is done every year, he’s pretty careful about his image and hasn’t messed around, and he’s still single," An Ye said, looking at Chi Tuo. "If we sign the agreement, I’d like us to exchange health reports."

Chi Tuo told himself that at least she said that you’re a better fit than this young, handsome guy, so don’t get angry, or else she might go find someone else in frustration...

"Did you feed your brain to a pig?" Chi Tuo put down his glass. "What kind of person do you dare bring home? This guy has been leeching off you for so long and still can’t even become popular. You plan to keep him for life?"

"So you’re the best choice," An Ye glared at him.Chi Tuo: "……"

"If he really becomes popular and can walk independently, how would he still be willing to make this kind of exchange with me?" An Ye shot back, "Your brain must've been fed to a pig."

Chi Tuo put down his glass and took a deep breath.

Fine.

"What’s the second thing?" he asked.

She might as well say everything now, and he would figure it out slowly.

"I have a two-year contract left with Huanyou Entertainment. I want to terminate it a year early and set up my own personal studio," An Ye said. "I’d like to hire you as my studio’s legal advisor."

Chi Tuo looked at her.

"I’ll need quite a few lawyers every year," An Ye said, unsure if she was self-mocking or trying to entice him. "Jinding would definitely be happy to take on this kind of collaboration."

Chi Tuo didn’t respond to that. He asked, "Who did you originally want to hire as your legal advisor?"

She had never considered him returning to the country. He had just happened to come back, perfectly timed. He wasn’t even her first choice.

"I have a few alternatives," An Ye didn’t hide it from him. "After all, I’ve been in the industry for ten years and have been famous for eight, so I still have some connections in the circle."

Quite proud, huh?

Chi Tuo thought, maybe I should applaud you.

...

He rubbed his face and sighed again.

"Give me a copy of your contract with Huanyou Entertainment, and I’ll take a look." He rubbed his temples. "As for the guardianship agreement, I can draft it first. This isn’t urgent. Just give me written authorization, and when you feel an episode coming on, notify me."

"There's just one thing."

Chi Tuo pondered, his face looking calm, but before speaking, he cleared his throat: "The... sexual needs issue, I don’t agree to it."

"It’s different from appetite. We’re not strangers who can just be friends with benefits and then never see each other again. We know each other too well. Doing this would make things complicated."

"If your hypersomnia really is related to suppressed emotions, we can try a gradual approach. After you fall asleep, I’ll stay with you and help you act out the things you’ve been repressing. Let’s see if that helps."

"These past two days, while you were asleep, I asked some doctors. No matter the type of desire, being too eager might be a form of projection. The next time you go to the hospital, I’ll go with you. I’ll also have a word with Dr. Zuo…"

He tapped his glass while speaking, thinking if he had missed anything.

An Ye lowered her head and laughed.

Chi Tuo stopped, "What’s so funny?"

"Nothing," An Ye shook her head with a smile. "Just reflecting. You really are on my side."

She had said so much, and if it were her mother, she would have dismissed half of it, calling it a flight of fancy. If it were her manager, the focus would have just been on her illness.

Only Chi Tuo, every word, he took it seriously.

He was genuinely helping her solve her problems.

How could she have forgotten? This person was all about focusing on the matter at hand—problems get solved, nothing more. That’s why, when she was younger, she trusted that comforting phrase: "It’s okay, don’t be afraid."She sat on the carpet, her head resting slightly against the sofa, watching Chi Tuo still furrowing his brows, thinking about the solutions ahead.

Suddenly... it felt a bit regrettable.

His physique was clearly the result of years of exercise. Unlike the increasingly slender and youthful aesthetic of the past few years, his body was the kind she really liked—broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He smelled clean, with no scent of smoke, alcohol, or perfume, just the simple scent of body wash.

He was also good-looking, which aligned perfectly with her taste. Over these ten years, the youthful look had faded, and his features had grown more stable and mature. His voice had become deeper too.

Very appealing.

It's just a pity... he had a mouth that was especially good at reasoning.

Such a pity.