The Third Year After The Breakup, He Knelt and Begged to Get Back Together - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: If You’re Still Holding a Grudge, Leave Right Now!

When Qi Mingfeng agreed to return to C City with He Xian, he knew what would happen. It wasn’t that he was being hypocritical; just now, it was purely a subconscious physical reaction, not something guided by logic.

At this moment, he had one elbow propped on the sofa, his upper body almost lying down, while He Xian looked down at him from above.

It was a dangerous posture, and one very unsuited for conversation.

Qi Mingfeng suppressed the urge to slide back and tried his best to sit up straight in his original spot.

He Xian thought he was still angry about that recording. “I explained it to you! The things I said to my brother were just spoken in anger! Besides, I didn’t even hold it against you that you insisted on breaking the contract and going abroad. Can we finally turn the page on this?”

Qi Mingfeng lowered his head and said softly, “I’m sorry, President He.”

He Xian: “If you’re still holding a grudge, leave right now!”

As soon as He Xian said it, he regretted it. With Qi Mingfeng’s stubborn temper, he might actually dare to pick up his luggage and walk away again.

But it was hard to take the words back, so he just stood there stiffly.

Qi Mingfeng knew exactly what kind of character He Xian was and what he liked to hear. He followed He Xian’s lead. “It’s just that I haven’t been this intimate with anyone for the past two years. I’m just not used to it for a moment.”

He Xian took the offered way out. “Really?”

Qi Mingfeng: “Really.”

He Xian’s expression softened.

Qi Mingfeng quickly diverted He Xian’s attention. “Let’s keep watching TV.”

By the time the Golden Song Awards ended, it was already time to rest. Qi Mingfeng followed He Xian back to the master bedroom.

He had picked the mattress in the master bedroom himself—neither too hard nor too soft. On the bedside table sat his favorite aromatherapy scent. Two years ago, during his time off, he loved lounging in bed, often refusing to get up until the sun was high in the sky.

Now, lying on it after washing up, he felt it wasn’t even as comfortable as the small bed he had cobbled together from a few wooden planks in D City.

Especially with He Xian lying next to him, the scent of body wash drifting into his nose made him feel as if he were instantly covered in this man’s scent again.

The bedside lamp was turned off. He Xian wrapped an arm around him. The combination of familiar and unfamiliar warmth made Qi Mingfeng extremely uncomfortable.

Qi Mingfeng’s sleep quality had been poor for the last two years. Furthermore, He Xian’s presence made him subconsciously uneasy, causing him to wake up several times throughout the night. He slept fitfully.

At 5:30 AM, he was woken by his internal clock. He Xian was still asleep, his arm still resting on his waist.

Qi Mingfeng carefully moved the arm—he didn’t want to wake He Xian. Once he was awake, there would have to be interaction.

He tiptoed out of bed to wash up, then opened various social media platforms on his phone to search for Zhou Zhiqi.

Having been in the entertainment industry, he naturally knew where to dig for news. He had been too busy these past two years to look at gossip, but a search revealed that public opinion of Zhou Zhiqi had changed.

Since his debut, Zhou Zhiqi had seemed to have divine help. He established his own studio and had resources from unknown origins. Coupled with his genuine talent, his career soared. He held the copyrights to most of his work and rarely encountered pitfalls; even negative news had never surfaced.

Now, however, a search immediately brought up rumors of alcoholism, clubbing, and a messy private life.

Qi Mingfeng didn’t believe it.

But further searching yielded nothing more useful.

Once he had seen enough, he tapped on the QQ icon with a red notification dot at the top.

The client who bought his demo had sent feedback, hoping for some changes because some parts were “un-singable.”

Qi Mingfeng had a superior voice and exceptional talent for performing, but when it came to writing lyrics and composing…

He was like some college students with their graduation theses and designs: the results existed, but the academic world would lose as much from their absence as a fish would lose a bicycle.

He was only able to do this demo-writing freelance work because of non-professional music lovers who wanted their own songs but lacked the money and connections to find better composers, settling for him instead.

The client for this order was a student who hadn’t graduated yet. On a whim, the student had written lyrics and wanted someone to set them to music; Qi Mingfeng had snatched the order.

The client had hummed a few lines of melody, asking him to write based on that feeling.

Based on Qi Mingfeng’s assessment of the client’s skill level, the client could definitely sing his demo.

He decided to communicate with the client first.

The message had been sent at 2:30 AM. It was now 7:00 AM; the client shouldn’t be awake yet.

To his surprise, a reply came as soon as he sent the message.

Apparently, they had stayed up all night.

Young people really have energy.

The client couldn’t explain the problem clearly and simply sent him a version of the demo with vocals added.

Qi Mingfeng quickly identified the issue.

Fm: Boss, let’s solve this point by point. First is the third bar. I can change it to be more soothing, but I think with your skill level, you can manage this transition. Try starting from…

While he was communicating with the client in the studio, He Xian suddenly pushed the door open.

Qi Mingfeng guessed He Xian hadn’t fully woken up yet. His hair was messy, and his slippers were on the wrong feet.

He let out a sigh of relief upon seeing him, then said with an unpleasant look, “What are you doing here so early instead of sleeping?”

Qi Mingfeng: “Oh, the demo I sold yesterday needs some changes. I’m communicating with the client.”

He Xian walked over, took his phone, scrolled up and down a couple of times, and handed it back. “I thought you weren’t interested in writing lyrics and composing. Why are you selling demos?”

Qi Mingfeng said frankly, “To earn some extra cash.”

He Xian: “Are you short on money? Didn’t I give you the card?”

Qi Mingfeng: “Just consider it finding something to do.”

“Then you must eat first. Auntie Sun has already finished making breakfast.” He Xian pulled him up without room for argument and led him toward the dining room downstairs.

Qi Mingfeng could only hurriedly send a few words to the client before accompanying He Xian for breakfast.

Breakfast was different from yesterday’s but was still according to his taste.

Preoccupied with his order, Qi Mingfeng ate absent-mindedly, planning to talk to the client again after seeing He Xian off to work.

But He Xian showed no intention of leaving. He sat there leisurely watching him eat, even asking if he wanted to go shopping for a couple of outfits.

Qi Mingfeng asked in confusion, “Aren’t you going to work?”

He Xian looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Today is Saturday.”

Qi Mingfeng checked his phone.

Oh, right. Saturday was a rest day.

He hadn’t had a rest day in a long time and hadn’t realized.

He Xian said with disdain, “What kind of trashy clothes did you bring? Wear a set of mine first. I’ll take you out to buy some. I don’t want people seeing you and saying I’m mistreating you.”

Qi Mingfeng: “Thank you, President He, but my clothes are still wearable. Besides, I can’t let my personal matters waste your rare rest time.”

He Xian remained noncommittal about his “wearable” clothes. “Want to go mountain climbing? The mountains to the west of the city were just developed two months ago. I heard the scenery is pretty good.”

Qi Mingfeng: “Climbing is too tiring, isn’t it? Especially since it’s been so hot lately.”

He Xian: “Then what do you want to do?”

Realizing He Xian’s tone was turning sour, Qi Mingfeng, who had been eating half-heartedly, jerked to a stop with his chopsticks.

He Xian had his arms crossed; he was on the verge of getting angry.

Qi Mingfeng’s brain worked rapidly. “Shall we watch a movie at home? Snowfield Designer 2 is out. Have you seen it?”

“No,” Qi Mingfeng’s attempt to please him doused He Xian’s fire. “It has been quite hot these few days. If we’re not going out, we’re not going out.”

Qi Mingfeng’s phone vibrated; it was likely the client messaging.

He and He Xian were sitting face-to-face across the table. This distance was close enough for He Xian to hear the vibration clearly.

He Xian raised an eyebrow. “Quite the busy man, Teacher Qi.”

Qi Mingfeng took out his phone, unlocked it, and placed it on the table with a fawning smile. “It’s still about the demo. President He, see if you can be lenient. I’ll definitely keep you company this afternoon…”

Qi Mingfeng knew that in He Xian’s eyes, he might not count as a person, and his work didn’t count as work. However, He Xian was at least career-minded and would occasionally take a step back if he was in a good mood.

Perhaps his humble and frank act of unlocking the phone and placing it out pleased He Xian. He Xian waved his hand magnanimously. “I’ll give you the morning. Go and make your changes. I’ll go to the study to handle some work matters too.”

Qi Mingfeng said happily, “Thank you.”

Seeing Qi Mingfeng looking like a hamster that had stolen some food, He Xian couldn’t help but ruffle his hair, smiling. “Hurry up. Don’t make me come and catch you this afternoon.”

He Xian was incredibly efficient in handling his work that morning.

It was strange. He didn’t necessarily have to be doing something with Qi Mingfeng; just the thought that Qi Mingfeng was at home, separated from him by only a wall, made him feel at peace.

Countless people approached him for his status, carrying all sorts of motives, but only Qi Mingfeng cared about nothing. Back then, Qi Mingfeng had truly believed he was down and out and had worked desperately hard to help him support that ramshackle entertainment company.

Even after finding out he had been deceived, he was easy to coax.

Qi Mingfeng also had a rare trait: no matter what happened or what situation he fell into, he could hold on and break through, like a plant growing vigorously in a crack—impossibly strong.

He Xian had lived for nearly thirty years, most of it spent competing. But even during the most intense period of competition with his brother, he would calm down upon returning home and get a good night’s sleep.

He Xian felt more and more that finding Qi Mingfeng and bringing him back was a good thing. He could live comfortably, and Qi Mingfeng didn’t have to suffer outside. It was a win-win situation.

After lunch, as agreed, He Xian and Qi Mingfeng watched Snowfield Designer 2 together.

The house had a dedicated media room. Just as Qi Mingfeng was about to enter, he heard the doorbell outside.

He Xian: “You go ahead and find the movie.”

In less than two minutes, He Xian returned with a bag, plopped down next to him, and handed him the bag.

Inside was a phone of the brand he used to use, the latest top-tier model.

“Throw away that broken phone of yours quickly. It’s laggy as hell.”

The sofa was a style they had specifically chosen when they were deeply in love; it wasn’t large and was perfect for sitting close together. He Xian sat next to him, raised an arm to wrap around his shoulder, and pulled him into his embrace. He didn’t even look at him, focused on setting up the movie.

Qi Mingfeng tried his best to get used to He Xian’s overbearing sense of aggression and closed the bag. “The old one can still be managed. Return this while it’s still unactivated.”

He Xian: “It was a buy-one-get-one-free deal. If you return this one, mine has to be returned too. Do you really want me to have no phone to use?”

…

At least find a decent excuse. It’s obvious you just had an assistant deliver it; the receipt is right there.

But since He Xian had put it that way, refusing again would definitely make him angry.

“Thank you, President He.”

Prioritizing the boss’s needs above all else, he put the phone aside and accompanied He Xian to watch the movie first.

The Snowfield Designer series were all arthouse films. Qi Mingfeng had lived for over twenty years and rarely had time for melancholy; he had never been fond of arthouse films.

They had watched Snowfield Designer 1 together. At that time, he still loved He Xian and saw He Xian’s shadow in the protagonist’s experiences, feeling heartache for He Xian’s hardships.

Now, he just felt that Snowfield Designer 2 was even more obscure and boring than the first. After thirty minutes, he wanted to yawn.

He secretly pinched his thigh to force himself to stay alert, but by the 40-minute mark, he really couldn’t hold on. He used the excuse of going to the bathroom to leave the media room and wake himself up.

Sleepy.

He was truly so sleepy.

He really was a vulgar person who couldn’t understand high art.

Qi Mingfeng washed his face and felt the phone in his pocket vibrate.

It was the client for his demo.

This Is Music!: Holy crap, you’re amazing! This is exactly the feeling I wanted! You’re the new generation’s King of Composition!

This Is Music!: Hey, seriously, your voice sounds a lot like Qi Mingfeng’s. Go start a live stream and call the room ‘Little Qi Mingfeng.’ I bet it’ll blow up.

This Is Music!: Just live stream yourself teaching people how to sing. Those singing tutorial rooms are quite popular right now and they make money. Since you’re short on cash, you could give it a try.

The client was still in that youthful stage—enthusiastic and talkative.

But it opened up a new line of thinking for Qi Mingfeng.

He was naturally good at singing but not at writing. Producing demos just to make money was exhausting his brain cells. If teaching people to sing online could also make money, he wouldn’t have to worry about going bald.

He opened a live-streaming platform and searched for singing tutorial rooms; sure enough, he found quite a few.

Just as he was looking with interest, a cold voice suddenly sounded behind him.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t come back for so long. You’re over here watching handsome guys sing.”

Qi Mingfeng jerked, instinctively turning off the screen and putting the phone in his pocket.

He Xian reached out with displeasure. “Let me see what level of ‘handsome guy’ has made you so reluctant to leave.”

Qi Mingfeng gave an awkward smile. “It’s a misunderstanding. It’s not what President He thinks. Besides, President He, you are much more handsome.”

He Xian: “Is that so? If he’s not as handsome as me, why did you watch for half an hour? If he was more handsome than me, wouldn’t you have run away from home overnight?”