The Third Year After The Breakup, He Knelt and Begged to Get Back Together - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Watching You Moving Around There, Wearing…

Qi Mingfeng thought to himself: Heaven be my witness.

The reason he spent half an hour here was mainly because his phone was too laggy. As for the new phone He Xian gave him, it was still in the media room, and he hadn’t had time to unbox it yet.

Qi Mingfeng quickly flattered him: “How could anyone in this world be handsomer than you? Come on, let’s go back and watch the movie.”

He Xian held Qi Mingfeng back and continued to reach out his hand.

Helpless, Qi Mingfeng had no choice but to hand over the phone.

He hadn’t changed his password. He Xian unlocked the screen and saw a young, pretty man chatting and laughing with the bullet comments.

Before He Xian could speak, Qi Mingfeng jumped in: “This is a singing tutorial live stream. When I was watching just now, he was indeed teaching people how to sing, but I thought his singing was just average. I was about to exit when you came over.”

He Xian: “You need an internet celebrity to teach you how to sing?”

Qi Mingfeng: “I was just bored and wanted to learn how they teach others online so I could do the same.”

“If you’re bored, I’ll have someone contact Zheng Hong,” He Xian said dissatisfiedly, returning the phone to Qi Mingfeng. “I settled it with him two years ago, but you were just too stubborn.”

Zheng Hong was a senior in the music industry, excellent at both lyrics and composition.

Two years ago, when Zhou Zhiqi wanted to write a song for Qi Mingfeng, He Xian didn’t want him to have any contact with Zhou Zhiqi. He forced him to give the collaboration opportunity to someone else. To compensate him, he wanted to find Zheng Hong to write a song for him, but Qi Mingfeng refused. Consequently, He Xian cut off all his professional assignments.

Although Qi Mingfeng wasn’t exactly a workaholic, he truly loved music and treated it as his career and ideal.

Yet He Xian wanted to destroy his career out of jealousy.

No.

Thinking back now, it wasn’t because of jealousy, but possessiveness.

In He Xian’s eyes, he was private property. It was best if he only revolved around He Xian. How could he be involved with others or even refuse He Xian’s arrangements?

But he was a living human being.

Recalling the past, the disgust in Qi Mingfeng’s heart grew stronger.

However, he hadn’t been qualified to talk to He Xian as an equal before, let alone now when he had truly sold himself to He Xian. No matter how much dissatisfaction he felt, it could only be kept to himself.

Qi Mingfeng lowered his eyelids, trying his best to hide his emotions: “I don’t plan to go back to singing for the time being.”

He Xian: “Why? Don’t you love singing the most? Qi Mingfeng, you couldn’t still be because…”

Seeing that another argument was about to start, Qi Mingfeng hurriedly explained: “No, I just want to rest for a while.”

Arguing with He Xian was useless.

He Xian wouldn’t change and would only make things worse.

Moreover, he really didn’t plan on making a comeback, at least not for the next two years. Once Qi Huan’s illness was cured and the contract with He Xian expired, he would take Qi Huan abroad to continue his unfinished path.

It wouldn’t be too long anyway; there was no need to keep entering and leaving the entertainment circle, and he certainly didn’t want to provoke certain troubles.

He Xian studied him for a moment: “Resting is fine too. Look at how thin you’ve become. Eat well and stop tossing yourself around every day.”

The movie in the media room was paused at the scene when Qi Mingfeng left.

Qi Mingfeng sat back down: “Let’s continue the movie.”

He Xian: “It’s boring. Let’s change to something else.”

Qi Mingfeng: “Boring? I remember Snowfield Designer 2 has very high ratings online.”

Had he remembered incorrectly?

And based on his understanding of He Xian, this movie should have been exactly to his taste.

“Still watching? You’re almost asleep,” He Xian suggested. “Change to something else. If you don’t want to watch, go throw away those clothes of yours. New clothes will be delivered to the house this afternoon.”

Since he couldn’t refuse either way, Qi Mingfeng chose to go organize his clothes.

Firstly, it meant he didn’t have to stay in a confined space with He Xian. Secondly, if he didn’t go, He Xian would definitely have someone throw all his clothes away.

Knowing He Xian, if they had a fight later and He Xian told him to get out, he might actually say something bastardly like, “Everything on your body was bought by me; take it off before you get out.”

He couldn’t exactly walk out naked.

Not long after, the manager of the brand store Qi Mingfeng used to like arrived with several assistants to deliver the goods.

A young assistant was shocked upon seeing him.

“Qi—”

The manager slapped the assistant hard on the back and apologized to He Xian with a smile: “Sorry, President He, Teacher Qi. He is a fan of Teacher Qi. Please rest assured, we are very tight-lipped.”

Qi Mingfeng smoothed things over: “It’s fine. I’m happy someone still remembers me.”

The manager and assistants didn’t dare to look around anymore and busied themselves moving the boxes one by one.

Qi Mingfeng suspected that He Xian hadn’t even looked at the catalog and simply had everything packed and sent over.

Even though the clothes were being bought for him, he felt like an outsider.

He Xian gave orders, and the assistants hung the pieces one by one in the walk-in closet. He went in to help but found himself redundant, so he found a quiet place to browse music teaching live streams.

When everyone had left, He Xian pulled him into the walk-in closet: “Hurry up and change your clothes.”

Qi Mingfeng had no great pursuit regarding food, clothing, housing, or transportation. He picked the set closest to him.

He looked back at He Xian. Seeing that He Xian wasn’t moving an inch, he could only start to walk out.

He Xian stopped him: “Where are you going?”

Qi Mingfeng: “To change my clothes.”

He Xian: “Why so much trouble? Can’t you change here? It’s not like there are no mirrors.”

Qi Mingfeng’s fingers holding the clothes tightened slightly, then relaxed as he turned back to the mirror.

Clothes that cost five figures were indeed different from three sets for fifty bucks. They were much lighter and more comfortable to wear.

After changing, he faced He Xian.

He Xian nodded toward the transparent wardrobe: “Change into another set.”

Qi Mingfeng: “Is there something wrong with this set?”

He Xian: “If you don’t try on more, wouldn’t you be letting down the hard work of the manager and assistants?”

Qi Mingfeng: “?”

He didn’t understand.

It wasn’t respectful.

But there was no way around it.

Qi Mingfeng changed into several sets in a row. He Xian stood at the door, watching him change every single one.

Anyone who didn’t know better would think He Xian was playing a real-life dress-up game.

Numbly, Qi Mingfeng took out another set from the wardrobe in order. This set had a somewhat avant-garde design, with silk ribbons crossing over the back. He couldn’t tie them well and intended to skip it for the next one.

He Xian, who had been acting like a broken record saying “change, change, change,” suddenly walked behind him and untied the dead knot he had made.

He was just about to say thank you when he felt He Xian pull the entire silk ribbon out and then wrap it around his wrist.

Qi Mingfeng’s breath hitched.

He Xian rested his chin on his shoulder, meeting his eyes in the mirror: “I never realized before that watching you change clothes could be so interesting.”

Qi Mingfeng’s voice was instinctively very soft: “What’s interesting about changing clothes?”

He Xian tugged the two ends of the ribbon up and down: “I don’t know. Watching you move around there, wearing different clothes, I just find it very interesting.”

Without the silk ribbon to secure it, the collar naturally slipped down as he moved. He Xian’s kiss also naturally fell on his shoulder and continued to descend as the clothing dropped.

Qi Mingfeng involuntarily leaned forward, wanting to escape the touch, but he was held firmly in He Xian’s embrace.

What followed happened naturally.

Qi Mingfeng knew this day would come sooner or later. Did He Xian pay three hundred thousand a month just for him to be a mascot?

Facing the reaction that had been stirred in him, he only gave a silent sneer in his heart.

He was not yet thirty, healthy, and the place that rose up didn’t have facial recognition installed—especially with such skillful care.

His arm blocked his eyes, but it was pulled down. He closed his eyes, wanting to let himself sink into the overwhelming flood, preferably to forget even himself.

But He Xian wouldn’t let him have his way. He pulled his hands into a tight grip, speaking word by word in his ear, making him feel humiliated.

“So much? Didn’t do it yourself for two years?”

“Still leaving?”

“President He? What should you call me? Haven’t had enough of your temper?”

Qi Mingfeng didn’t remember how long it lasted. In the end, his consciousness was blurred, and he was carried to the bathroom by He Xian.

He Xian hadn’t been this satiated in a long time.

No matter how good others were, they all felt a bit lacking compared to Qi Mingfeng and couldn’t spark his interest.

That kind of peace of mind, that happiness of wishing to merge into one completely—only Qi Mingfeng could give him that.

He even began to feel that he shouldn’t have spoken so harshly back then and driven Qi Mingfeng away, wasting two years for nothing.

He Xian washed Qi Mingfeng clean and tucked him into bed. He admired the other’s weary face for a moment and pressed a finger against Qi Mingfeng’s furrowed brow.

He shouldn’t have spoken so harshly, but Qi Mingfeng shouldn’t have been as stubborn as a donkey either.

Fortunately, Qi Mingfeng knew to correct his mistakes, obediently returning to C City and to his side.

This was very good.

…

He Xian was very busy with work, especially lately as he was working on a relatively important project. Rushing to D City to find him a couple of days ago was time squeezed out of a tight schedule. After resting only on Saturday, he went back to the company.

Qi Mingfeng was happy that He Xian wasn’t home. He imitated other streamers and started a live stream to teach people how to sing.

But while other streamers’ rooms were bustling with gift effects and endless thank-yous, he was just staring blankly at his own virtual avatar in his room.

There was no helping it.

Some streamers relied on traffic promotion—he had no money.

Some relied on looks—he couldn’t use his real identity for the stream.

Some relied on gimmicks—he didn’t know how to do that.

Bored, Qi Mingfeng started playing with his phone, checking if there were new demo orders he could take. The equipment in He Xian’s house was worlds apart from his broken second-hand laptop; his efficiency would surely increase several-fold, allowing him to earn more money.

He Xian’s message happened to come through: What are you doing?

Qi Mingfeng took a photo of the phone he was using to stream: Learning from others and starting a live stream.

He Xian: 3 people. Instead of slacking off, you might as well come to the company to accompany me at work.

Qi Mingfeng: It’s been so hot lately; I don’t want to go out.

He Xian: You’re so lazy.

When Qi Mingfeng looked up from his phone, he found someone in the live stream requesting to connect via voice.

It was the client who bought his demo.

“This Is Music!” saw that Fm had started a stream and came to check it out, only to find she was the only one in the room.

She felt very embarrassed in the comments. She was the one who recommended Fm start a stream to teach singing, but it turned out to be worse than letting him continue writing demos.

But she truly acknowledged Fm’s strength, feeling he was leagues ahead of those popular streamers.

Those people could be famous, so why should her Great God Fm—who sang better and taught more patiently—be buried? This was a loss for the music world!

Although she didn’t understand singing much, she understood the internet.

Taking advantage of the weekend, she gathered her friends and fellow enthusiasts online into the stream and went on the mic herself to let Fm teach her how to sing.

“The streamer’s singing style and way of speaking are very similar to Qi Mingfeng’s. Why not try imitating Qi Mingfeng’s voice to piggyback on his popularity?”

To prevent his identity from being exposed, Qi Mingfeng deliberately lowered his voice when speaking, but speaking habits were hard to hide. Just as he was considering how to change it, the bullet comments started arguing.

“Is the person above okay? Why go looking for bad luck out of nowhere? Someone like Qi Mingfeng is disgusting enough.”

“You’re the one who’s been brainwashed for who knows how many years. The plagiarism issue with Qi Mingfeng’s album was cleared up long ago, okay? The timeline is proof. Can he time travel to plagiarize?”

“The flop who jumped out to say they were bullied by Qi Mingfeng is already in prison working a sewing machine, okay? That thing never said a word of truth.”

“Clear up, clear up, every single day. The whole world is out to get your ‘brother’.”

“It took over a year for that idiot company of his to step forward after the incident. If the fans don’t clear things up, what should they do? Knock on a wooden fish every day and pray for the haters to change their nature, cry bitterly, and repent?”

Qi Mingfeng considered himself kind to others and had never acted like a big shot or bullied anyone. He had personally overseen all the albums he produced and released. But there was no stopping people from wanting to throw mud—especially when the person throwing the mud had He Xian’s backing.