Whether Bo Yu believed it or not, Gu Qichi didn’t know; in any case, he believed it himself.

It was a blessing in disguise.

Lin Shuangyi gave him a day off. Additionally, President Bo hadn’t just come himself; he had brought a chef from a five-star hotel. As soon as noon arrived, a waiter knocked on the door, and dish after dish was brought in, filling the room with mouth-watering aromas.

Even though he had been fed more than half a bowl of porridge by Bo Yu in the morning and his stomach was full, looking at the oily, golden stir-fried prawns and the rich, fragrant Buddha Jumps Over the Wall soup in front of him, Gu Qichi actually felt faintly hungry.

Just as he wanted to pick up his chopsticks, he suddenly realized something. Gu Qichi stopped his hand and turned to look at Bo Yu: “How many people did you bring over?”

Bo Yu had just rolled up his sleeves, revealing a section of his smooth, muscular forearm. His well-defined fingers were slowly peeling the shrimp shells. Hearing Gu Qichi’s inquiry, he couldn’t help but look up: “Only me and the head chef. Bai Heng and the others are on the noon flight; they won’t arrive until the afternoon.”

Gu Qichi: …

Gu Qichi: “When you entered my room, were you seen by anyone else?”

At this point, Gu Qichi sighed silently. Bo Yu was the biggest investor in the Xing Tianqing crew, and they had interacted at the cocktail party before. The people in the crew were all sharp; if they saw Bo Yu entering his room, one could imagine what kind of nasty rumors would spread with just a little brainstorming.

The drama Xing Tianqing was bound to be a big hit; he just hoped that he and Bo Yu wouldn’t cause any major trouble for Wen Xi when the time came.

Unexpectedly, President Bo tilted his head slightly, his gaze obscure and ambiguous. It wasn’t until he had peeled a whole shrimp and handed it to Gu Qichi that he answered lazily:

“Don’t worry, I know my limits. Before we get our marriage certificate, I won’t allow any remarks detrimental to you to be spread.”

Gu Qichi raised an eyebrow, making no comment.

By evening, Bo Yu applied the medicine to Gu Qichi again. Compared to when he first woke up in the morning, the swelling in his ankle had gone down significantly.

President Bo looked at his masterpiece with exceptional satisfaction. “Rest for a few more days. Absolutely do not walk around on the ground carelessly. I’ll ask the chef to stew some bone soup; it’s good for the body.”

The night was thin. The nature reserve wasn’t like the city center with its feasting, revelry, and neon lights filling the sky. There was only a crescent moon in the sky; the night was clear and breezy, and the stars hung low, twinkling brilliantly like diamonds.

Casting aside all noise and clamor, the wind passed through the treetops. Only the rustling of bamboo leaves outside the window could be heard, along with the occasional chirp of cicadas and birds.

Inside the room, the sound of turning pages could be heard. Gu Qichi lowered his eyes, studying the script with single-minded devotion.

The reason Shen Qingye fell from being a favored son of heaven to a treacherous eunuch official had a lot to do with the fueling of the fire by the Second Prince, Shi Tianlin, played by Song Zhian. The reason was simple: Shen Qingye’s father did not support Shi Tianlin inheriting the throne. He was a stubborn centrist who insisted on the rule of primogeniture and was bent on assisting the Crown Prince to ascend the throne.

It was a pity that, framed by various factions, the Crown Prince was beheaded for treason. The Shen family was deeply implicated; Father Shen was beheaded, the men were all exiled thousands of miles away, and the female family members were confiscated into slavery.

Shen Qingye was the only male who wasn’t exiled. He survived, but living was worse than death.

Falling from heaven into the mud, losing his dignity as a man, and being bullied, insulted, beaten, and scolded like a lowly dog—it was a living hell.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of suicide.

On countless cold and desolate nights, seventeen-year-old Shen Qingye lay on the bone-chilling brick floor, letting the cold invade his marrow, tears streaming down his face silently.

He couldn’t die. His father was dead, his clansmen were starving and cold thousands of miles away, and his mother and sister were still in that inhumane place, suffering unknown hardships…

Of the entire Shen household, he was the only one left now.

Thinking of this, the once proud and uninhibited youth hid all his sharpness, broke his proud bones, bowed and scraped, and within these man-eating high walls and red tiles, used every means possible to climb up step by step…

Reading the script to this point, Gu Qichi had a thought. He handed the page where he had highlighted Shen Qingye’s psychological activities and life experiences to Bo Yu. His fingertip glided over the paper, the pad of his finger resting on the colored marks, and he asked softly:

“Bo Yu, if you were Shen Qingye, what would you do?”

He looked at him with burning eyes.

After deciding to marry Bo Yu, Gu Qichi had actually investigated Bo Yu privately for a while.

Cold, violent, moody, ruthless, treating human life like grass—it seemed that all the terrible adjectives in the world were reasonable when used to describe Bo Yu.

Some even said that Bo Yu was old, ugly, disabled in his limbs, and had some hidden diseases, so he particularly liked to use special means to torture beautiful things.

But the real Bo Yu was nothing like what they described.

As for the reasons why these rumors spread, it was nothing more than Bo Yu’s reputation being ruined by those illegitimate children of the Bo family back then. Added to the fact that those who harmed him later didn’t end well, it further confirmed these claims.

Bo Yu looked at Gu Qichi with a calm gaze and spoke slowly, word by word: “If I were Shen Qingye, I would dispose of everyone who harmed me, then kill that dog emperor and take the throne myself.”

Very good. It certainly fit Bo Yu’s persona as a villain boss.

Gu Qichi cast an admiring look at him and spoke slowly, his tone carrying a hint of teasing: “But Shen Qingye is a eunuch, and a eunuch cannot be emperor.”

“Furthermore, if you really became the emperor, I’m afraid everyone would be yes-men and mediocre officials, making you a hunjun (fatuous ruler).”

The cap of the safflower oil was suddenly screwed tight and placed on the bedside cabinet, making a crisp sound.

The bedside lamp was dim, and half of Bo Yu’s face was hidden in shadow. His facial lines were deep, his brow bone high, making his eye sockets appear even deeper. His eyes were narrow and long, his gaze falling deeply and shallowly on Gu Qichi.

His shoulders and back were broad, the lines exceptionally smooth. Coupled with the thin fabric of the shirt in summer, his taut muscles filled out the shirt, making him appear even more oppressive.

He looked exactly like a big bad wolf about to swallow someone whole.

His voice was low and hoarse as he pinched Gu Qichi’s pink-white fingers: “Shen Qingye is a eunuch, but I am not. Of course, I can ascend the throne and become emperor.”

“There is one more thing. What do I have that he doesn’t? Gu Qichi, you should know best.”

Bo Yu’s voice became even lower and hoarser. He leaned forward slightly, approaching Gu Qichi, stopping by his ear. His hot breath brushed against it, causing a tingling sensation.

“If I were a fatuous ruler, then you would be the fatuous ruler’s Empress.”

“The only Empress.”

Gu Qichi didn’t move. His peach blossom eyes tilted upwards, his eyelashes thick and long, and his amber pupils appeared warm and clear under the light.

He smiled lazily. Instead of denying Bo Yu’s words, he boldly leaned in closer.

His lips brushed past Bo Yu’s face; a kiss, light as a feather, was branded onto Bo Yu’s heart just like that.

He heard Gu Qichi say: “Alright then, Your Majesty…”

Bo Yu’s breathing was a bit rapid. Just as he wanted to say something more, he realized things were not as simple as he imagined.

He was pushed away by Gu Qichi.

Mercilessly.

It was as if the lingering words of love just now hadn’t been said by him at all. Everything was just a trick to lure him into a trap.

The beauty’s eyes were clear, his smile harmless, clean as fresh snow in winter.

“President Bo, thank you for rehearsing the scene with me. It gave me a deeper understanding of this character. It’s getting late; I’m going to sleep.”

He paused, his gaze leisurely falling on the door handle of the room, and said with a faint smile: “I asked Assistant White. He booked a room for you long ago, and no one in the crew knows you came over. So, please help yourself.”

“Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

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Author’s Note:

Bo Yu: Can’t out-flirt wifey, so angry.

Gu Qichi: Heh.