After Breaking Up, I Married A Top Alpha Movie Star And Fell In Love - Chapter 17

“Brother Lu, there are still fans waiting outside,” Xiao Bei, the assistant, said as he walked over carrying a lighting lamp.

Lu Mingchuan was only making a cameo appearance this time and hadn’t organized any official fan support; these fans had traveled from all over the country on their own initiative.

It was now nearly midnight, and the weather was biting cold.

“Lu Mingchuan! Happy wrapping!”

Upon seeing Lu Mingchuan walking toward them, over a dozen fans excitedly raised their phones and cameras, aiming their lenses forward.

“You’ve worked hard, Brother!”

“Thank you all for taking the time to see me. I’ve received your well-wishes.”

Lu Mingchuan stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing slightly as he scanned the chaotic surroundings, punctuated by the frequent movement of crew vehicles passing by.

He raised his voice, his tone becoming somewhat stern: “But it really is too late now. There’s a lot of traffic coming in and out, and it’s very unsafe for everyone to be gathered here.”

The personnel on a film set were a mixed bag, and he couldn’t guarantee that every single person lacked ill intent. Most of Lu Mingchuan’s fans were young, inexperienced girls. Although this filming base wasn’t in the deep wilderness, it was still a considerable distance from the city center of Tangcheng.

“Brother, here is my letter!”

“And mine!”

Lu Mingchuan took the letters with both hands, but insisted they take back all other gifts, regardless of size.

“Will you be going on the variety show with your ‘Bunny Wife’?”

Lu Mingchuan was momentarily stunned by the girl’s question. He suddenly realized that the “Bunny Wife” she referred to must be Qiu Ye. He pressed his lips together, keeping his expression neutral.

“I’m a fan of your CP (couple). Brother, you must be incredibly happy!”

“I’ll take those kind words to heart.” The furrow in Lu Mingchuan’s brow smoothed out. He turned to his assistant, Xiao Bei.

“Xiao Bei, count the number of people and arrange for two or three reliable business vans.”

“Make sure they are all sent safely back to their hotels. Tell me once you’ve confirmed everyone has arrived safely.”

Having said that, Lu Mingchuan looked back at the fans and waved goodbye.

“Be safe on the road. Everyone, go back and get some rest early.”

The car door closed, shutting out the noise and chaos outside.

Lu Mingchuan pulled open the rear door and sat down with a hint of exhaustion, but as his gaze drifted across the seat, it suddenly locked in place.

On the spot where Qiu Ye usually sat, a bouquet of exquisite flowers lay quietly.

Dark green leaves cradled white calla lilies and pale blue larkspur—elegant and tasteful. Attached to it was a round card that read Happy Wrapping, signed with a stylized, cursive “Q.”

Qiu Ye, sitting in the driver’s seat, glanced back at Lu Mingchuan.

Lu Mingchuan carefully picked up the bouquet. A surge of uncontrollable joy flooded his heart, and the corners of his mouth curled into a deep smile.

“When did you buy this?”

Qiu Ye looked at the dark night ahead and replied, “I ordered them two days ago. I went to pick them up this afternoon and took a drive around Tangcheng while I was at it.”

Lu Mingchuan pulled out the card. He recognized Qiu Ye’s handwriting, though after so many years, he hadn’t been entirely sure. He asked aloud, “You wrote this?”

Qiu Ye gave a soft “Mm.”

Lu Mingchuan tucked the card into the gap between his phone and its clear case, then moved to sit in the front passenger seat.

Qiu Ye’s handwriting was much like the person: thin and tall, with every stroke carved with a detached, resilient strength. That plain white card with “Happy Wrapping” written on it was now sandwiched between the transparent case and the white body of the phone.

Qiu Ye naturally noticed this small change. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and he turned his gaze away, feeling a bit embarrassed.

In the next second, his phone screen lit up.

An important notification popped up from Huanhe’s approval platform: Your resignation application has been rejected. Please communicate with your direct supervisor.

“What’s wrong?” Lu Mingchuan leaned over.

Qiu Ye gave him a rough explanation of what had happened and mentioned the non-compete agreement he had signed.

Lu Mingchuan frowned. “How long is the restriction period?”

Qiu Ye turned the steering wheel and looked up. “Two years.”

So, what he was facing now was not just a rejected resignation, but a professional career that was effectively locked down. Huanhe could use that agreement to nail him firmly in place unless he was willing to leave the industry entirely or endure a two-year “ice age.”

“That’s a predatory clause,” Lu Mingchuan said after understanding the situation. He mentioned he had a lawyer who could help Qiu Ye break free.

Qiu Ye declined Lu Mingchuan’s kindness, saying he wanted to resolve it himself.

He had originally thought resigning would be a liberation; now he realized it might just be a leap from a visible cage into a hidden but reinforced trap.

“Do you regret leaving his side?” Lu Mingchuan’s meaning was ambiguous—it wasn’t clear if he was asking about work or feelings.

“I don’t regret any decision I’ve made.”

News of Qiu Ye’s resignation spread through the industry. There were no shortage of companies capable of competing with Huanhe that reached out with olive branches. However, most were just testing the waters, and the conditions they offered weren’t much better.

Mr. Ding, who had suffered losses at Qiu Ye’s hands twice before, chose this moment to offer an extremely high salary for him to serve as Vice President, even claiming he could resolve the non-compete issue.

Although He Yuchen was not an even-tempered boss, he never mistreated his subordinates regarding salary and bonuses. Qiu Ye’s annual salary was already top-tier in the industry, yet Ding Zhao had doubled it. Clearly, his motives weren’t purely professional.

“Mr. Ding, please allow me to think about it further.”

Qiu Ye was no fool; he knew exactly what Ding Zhao was plotting. But he couldn’t afford to offend Ding Zhao at this juncture, so he could only play along for now.

On the day he returned to Hong Kong, the airliner encountered heavy winds. The palm trees lining the airport road were blown askew. The moving company he had booked for Shen Miaoyin called Qiu Ye, saying that Ms. Shen had told them they didn’t need to come anymore.

The rain fell fast and thick.

The windshield wipers swung back and forth relentlessly.

When Qiu Ye got out of the car, his trouser legs were quickly soaked by the rain, making him look disheveled.

“I wondered who it was; turns out it’s just a water ghost.” Qiu Ying stood on the stairs, looking down at this illegitimate son from a height.

One could tell the family’s differing attitudes toward the two children just by their names. The character Ye was essentially meaningless.

Rain blurred the transparent lenses of his glasses. Qiu Ying’s face and the luxurious, gloomy staircase behind her distorted into hazy patches of color.

Qiu Ying sized up Qiu Ye’s miserable state, her voice full of its usual arrogance and malice. “What, did He Yuchen finally get tired of playing with you, so you’ve thrown yourself into the arms of that pervert Ding Zhao?”

“You and your mother really are cut from the same cloth. I heard you were already making eyes at him on the Florence.”

Qiu Ye clenched his fists. He didn’t speak for a long while, wanting only to bypass this “bringer of misery.”

Qiu Ying deliberately stepped to the side, blocking his path again, and sneered: “By the way, you probably don’t know what Shen Miaoyin has done yet, do you? That idiot actually had the audacity to want Qiu family shares to secure her future.”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t have your talent at the gambling table.”

Qiu Ye’s footsteps froze. Beneath his damp black hair, his eyes were terrifyingly calm. “What do you mean?”

Qiu Ying slammed her shoulder hard into Qiu Ye’s as she brushed past him, saying, “Go ask your ‘good mother’ yourself.”

Qiu Ye’s pupils contracted suddenly, as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning.

“Qiuqiu, Mama is sorry.”

Shen Miaoyin sat beside that compassionate statue of Guanyin. In the ashtray by her hand, cigarette butts were piled up like a mountain. One wondered if the deity would be offended.

Qiu Ye looked at several scattered jewelry boxes on the dressing table. He reached out and opened a red sandalwood box; it was empty.

“Qiuqiu, they used company shares to gamble with me. I thought I could leave something for you.”

“But they cheated. They conspired together to trick me.”

Qiu Ye looked at Shen Miaoyin’s wrist, which was missing its ribbon, and asked with lowered eyes: “Besides the jewelry… that house…”

“That… that was lost too.”

Qiu Ye reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, interrupting her softly: “I told you many times, you are not allowed to touch those things.”

“Mama didn’t mean it. I thought I would win. As long as that last hand turned around, we would…”

Qiu Ye silently looked away.

“Qiuqiu, look at me.” Shen Miaoyin’s lips trembled, as if she were the one who had suffered a great injustice.

Shen Miaoyin touched Qiu Ye with the hand bearing the ugly scar and asked, “Did you offend a gentleman named Ding?”

Qiu Ye’s heart turned cold. He closed his eyes.

Perhaps this wasn’t entirely Shen Miaoyin’s fault.

“I never wanted the Qiu family shares. Why did you have to go with them…” Qiu Ye took a deep breath, his chest heaving slightly.

Hearing such a “spineless” statement, Shen Miaoyin’s emotions suddenly became volatile. “But this is what you deserve! Why should Qiu Ying have them when you can’t?”

“Don’t bother trying to take me away. Without winning back what is rightfully ours, I will never leave this place, even if I die.”

Qiu Ye’s lips moved, and he pressed his hands together in prayer toward the Guanyin statue.

Shen Miaoyin began to sob, her hot tears dripping onto the back of his hand.

Qiu Ye was trapped in the rain.

The car was very quiet. He stared at the swaying wipers for a long time before finally calling Ji Bing.

“Mr. Qiu, is something the matter?”

Qiu Ye’s voice was calm as he spoke slowly: “I’ve thought it over. That marriage variety show.”

“I am willing to participate.”

“That’s fantastic!” Ji Bing had thought the matter was dead, but he hadn’t expected such a turn of events.

“However, I hope that in terms of compensation, we can strive for the highest possible level.”

On the other end of the phone, Ji Bing made a bold guarantee. “No problem at all! With the current level of attention on you and Lu Mingchuan, the production team would be desperate to have you two as guests. I’ll negotiate until you’re satisfied.”

Qiu Ye hung up and rested his hands on the steering wheel, feeling an unprecedented sense of aimlessness and helplessness.

He canceled the private room he had booked in advance and ate dinner alone at the Fengqi Chaoming residence.

Likely due to the severe weather, the meal arrived over an hour later than expected and was completely cold. A message popped up from the delivery driver in the app, saying they could offer a partial refund.

Qiu Ye clicked the button indicating he didn’t need it.

He wasn’t actually hungry; he just felt his body needed food, so he haphazardly swallowed the meal to get it over with.

After eating, Qiu Ye stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window for a long time. When he looked up, he saw Lu Mingchuan’s shadow.

Having finished his work, Lu Mingchuan had arrived silently behind Qiu Ye at some unknown point.

Qiu Ye turned around, his face showing no sign of anything being wrong.

Lu Mingchuan stepped forward, his gaze landing on Qiu Ye’s slightly weary eyes. He asked warmly, “What is it? Are you tired from the move?”

Qiu Ye nodded and turned away, his voice strained. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine after a night’s sleep.”

Walking behind him, Lu Mingchuan asked again, “Qiu Ye, did everything go smoothly today?”

Qiu Ye’s footsteps faltered. He didn’t dare turn back to look into Lu Mingchuan’s eyes.