WYLM | Chapter 2

Nervous, nervous.

In the vast meeting room, Chi Guan sits in a corner, his back straight, his slender neck drawing a graceful arc.

On the mahogany table in front of him rests a thick stack of documents—the script Chi Guan had printed out specially. He looks down at the words on the script, but his gaze drifts uncertainly.

After that phone call from Lin Qiuyu, Chi Guan had been looking forward to meeting Qi Jingyao, but unfortunately, Teacher Qi’s schedule was too packed, only managing to make time half a month later, which is today.

During this time, Chi Guan wasn’t idle. He dug out the long-dormant script and meticulously read it again.

Chi Guan had spent six whole years gathering various materials to reconstruct Emperor Jingming’s life story. Revisiting the script now, every detail still vividly lingers in his mind.

Of course, what impressed Chi Guan the most was the story of Emperor Jingming himself.

Emperor Jingming’s life was filled with legends. Born as the legitimate eldest son, he was established as the crown prince from birth, but unfortunately, his mother died in childbirth, leaving him without any protection.

Life in the palace was fraught with danger, and without his mother, the young Emperor Jingming often faced peril, relying on his quick wits and precocity to narrowly escape danger.

Meanwhile, Emperor Jingming’s father was notorious for his violent and foolish rule, spending his days in revelry without care for his subjects, leading to an inevitable downfall. When Emperor Jingming was seventeen, a massive rebellion broke out in the north, quickly approaching the capital. The emperor had no interest in fighting and fled through the palace’s back gate with his favorite concubine, only to be captured by the rebels lying in wait. The young Emperor Jingming was forced to ascend the throne.

Faced with rebels on one side and power-hungry brothers on the other, amidst internal and external crises, Emperor Jingming managed to preserve his dynasty and secure his position with remarkable resilience and decisive actions.

After ascending the throne, Emperor Jingming vigorously implemented reforms, personally led troops to expel barbarians, and dedicated himself to national affairs. Fortunately, Emperor Jingming, despite his trials, was not alone. Historical records mention that a childhood friend and royal aide had always been by his side, accompanying him through the darkest years.

However, records about this aide are scant, as if deliberately erased. Chi Guan had scoured all available sources and only managed to confirm his real existence and knew that Emperor Jingming had bestowed upon him the honorary name “Suijian,” meaning “to meet year after year.”

Soon after Emperor Jingming’s accession, records of this aide abruptly ceased, disappearing without a trace like a drop in the ocean.

Emperor Jingming’s reign was also brief. He never married or had children. After clearing the northern barbarians and stabilizing domestic affairs, he passed the throne to a distant relative and committed suicide by jumping into a lake on the day his cousin ascended the throne, ending his legendary life.

Chi Guan was eager to uncover what really happened, but unfortunately, existing historical sources offered no answers, leaving him with a lingering sense of unresolved curiosity.

Sitting in the empty meeting room now, Chi Guan tries not to think too much. He pinches his palm lightly to keep his mind clear. After all, he is about to meet Qi Jingyao and wants to be in his best state.

As time ticks by, Qi Jingyao has yet to arrive. A staff member hurries in, his tone apologetic, “Sorry, Teacher Chi, Brother Qi had something urgent come up and might be a while longer.”

Chi Guan smiles and shakes his head, saying, “It’s okay, I’ll wait for him.”

Behind the one-way glass on the side of the meeting room, a tall man stands, quietly observing Chi Guan’s profile through the thick glass.

If Chi Guan could see beyond the one-way glass right now, he would be surprised to find that the person watching him is the very Qi Jingyao he is anxiously waiting for.

The man is dressed in a long coat, his hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of noble pride with each movement. A closer look reveals a hint of loneliness in his eyes, not the expression one would expect from a celebrated movie star.

After leaving Chi Guan’s side, the staff member who just spoke returns to Qi Jingyao and whispers, “Brother Qi, I’ve spoken with the scriptwriter teacher.”

After a pause, the staff member, unable to hold back, asks, “Brother, you’re right here, why did you say you couldn’t come because you were busy?”

“It’s nothing, I just wanted to see him first,” Qi Jingyao speaks calmly yet meaningfully, “I want to see if he is the person I’m looking for.”

People are born different—some lead carefree lives, while others face hardships early on. Qi Jingyao harbors a secret he has never shared with anyone else: he remembers his past life.

History books hail him as Emperor Jingming, extolling his talents and methods, but his most vivid memory is of the young aide who always stayed by his side, his lover.

As teenagers, they depended on each other to survive the toughest years. Later, when he was ambushed during a campaign, the young aide died taking an arrow for him. Qi Jingyao hadn’t even had the chance to give him a proper status, only holding his hand as he died, making him promise to wait for him in the next life.

After stabilizing the country, Qi Jingyao unhesitatingly chose to end his life. Perhaps because of his deep obsession, he retained the memories of his past life after being born in the modern era.

To find his past lover, Qi Jingyao entered the entertainment industry at a young age, wanting to stand out so that his lover could find him. Unfortunately, despite twenty years passing, he never found his lover.

That is, until recently, when Qi Jingyao came across the script for “The Legend of Emperor Jingming” written by Chi Guan from a friend, feeling it resembled his own lover’s style.

Qi Jingyao asked his friend to arrange this meeting.

And upon seeing Chi Guan for the first time, Qi Jingyao was almost certain he was the person he was looking for.

Chi Guan is fair, with round almond eyes, a clear and bright gaze, and a naturally upturned smile even when he isn’t smiling, giving off a warm and radiant vibe that overlaps with the memory of his lover who always used to follow him around.

The staff member, a typical corporate drone paid to follow orders, knows better than to pry into certain matters, wisely leaves, allowing Qi Jingyao to continue studying Chi Guan’s features from the shadows.

It’s not that Qi Jingyao doesn’t want to meet Chi Guan; he yearns to, but feels a kind of “nervousness as one approaches home.” He fears that Chi Guan might have already recognized him, or worse, that Chi Guan has never recognized him.

Inside the meeting room, Chi Guan is clearly growing impatient, frequently checking his watch. Qi Jingyao finally moves away from the one-way glass, opens the door, and enters the room.

“Sorry, I was delayed,” Qi Jingyao’s voice is soft, his tone sincere as he explains, “I had some important matters to attend to just now.”

Chi Guan quickly stands up, somewhat awkwardly waving his hand, “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Jokingly, how could he mind? This is Qi Jingyao, the man he has adored for so many years. Chi Guan had never even dreamed of meeting Qi Jingyao before.

“Hello, let me introduce myself properly,” Qi Jingyao steps forward, extending his right hand with a just-right smile, “I’m Qi Jingyao. I’ve read your script and really like it, I’m glad to meet you.”

Setting aside the initial tardiness, Qi Jingyao’s demeanor is very friendly, lacking any superstar airs, making one feel as if bathed in a refreshing spring breeze.

The two sit in the meeting room, Qi Jingyao instructing the staff to bring tea and snacks, then listens with interest as Chi Guan explains the creative process behind the script.

Chi Guan starts off a bit dazed, but seeing Qi Jingyao’s serious and meticulous manner, he suppresses his excitement and strives to show his professional side.

“Wait,” Qi Jingyao frowns slightly, suddenly interrupting him, “From what you just said, your understanding of Emperor Jingming comes from historical records? You… don’t have any other sources?”

Chi Guan blinks, confused by Qi Jingyao’s words, but honestly replies, “As far as I know, there are no documentaries about Emperor Jingming domestically or internationally, so of course, I could only learn about his story through historical records.”

Looking earnestly at Qi Jingyao, he asks, “Teacher Qi, do you have some unique source? Could you share it with me?”

Qi Jingyao: “…”

“I think I made a mistake,” Qi Jingyao pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a touch of melancholy, “You’re not the person I’m looking for.”

Although their styles are similar.

Although they look alike.

But his little lover had promised to wait for him, and he couldn’t possibly have forgotten their stories.

Chi Guan suddenly panics, not expecting Qi Jingyao’s mood to turn so sharply. He stands up in a fluster, trying to seize the last chance, “Did I say something wrong, Teacher Qi? I apologize, and I hope you can give me another chance…”

Qi Jingyao lifts his eyes, looking at the young man before him who resembles his lover in so many ways. He knows Chi Guan has misunderstood, but doesn’t know how to explain, eventually just gesturing, “Sorry, let’s stop here for today. I’ll have the staff draft a contract, and we’ll contact you once it’s ready.”

Although Chi Guan isn’t the person he yearned for, his script is indeed good, and Qi Jingyao doesn’t mind purchasing it. After all, he hasn’t found his beloved, and he’s lonely, wealthy with nothing but money left.

Chi Guan’s lips part as if he wants to say more, but Qi Jingyao is no longer in the mood to listen. He stands up and leaves the meeting room.
•

Half an hour later, when Chi Guan leaves Qi Jingyao’s studio, his face bears a troubled expression. Qi Jingyao had clearly agreed to buy his script, but he feels far from happy.

He doesn’t understand what he did to upset Qi Jingyao, but it’s evident that Qi Jingyao was in a bad mood, and it was somehow related to him.

With his mind in disarray, Chi Guan, holding a stack of documents, wanders out, stopping halfway through.

No, he can’t let it end like this.

He’s not the kind of person who causes upset and doesn’t take responsibility.

Thinking this, Chi Guan turns back, goes up the stairs, and walks into the meeting room where he had met Qi Jingyao.

The staff member is cleaning up, puzzled to see him return, asking, “What’s the matter, Teacher Chi? Did you forget something?”

“Is Teacher Qi still here?” Chi Guan asks eagerly, “I’d like to see him again.”

The staff member says to wait a moment, leaves the room, and returns a few minutes later with an apologetic expression, “Sorry, Teacher Chi, Brother Qi is busy right now and it’s not convenient for him to meet you.”

“It’s okay, I can wait,” Chi Guan shakes his head, appearing unconcerned, “I can wait as long as it takes, I just want to see Teacher Qi.”

He has a stubborn look as if he won’t give up until he sees Qi Jingyao.

The staff member looks troubled, glancing at Chi Guan and then at the one-way glass behind him. Qi Jingyao had instructed him to send Chi Guan away, but he really didn’t have the power to do so; he’s just a humble worker, caught between the two.

Moments later, Qi Jingyao walks in and says to the near-tearful staff member, “Xiao Liu, go outside. I’ll talk to him.”

Xiao Liu: “!”

The sandwich cookie is saved!