At first, the fish fans didn’t notice anything unusual. As soon as Song Yu posted on Weibo, his fans flooded the comments with enthusiastic praise for “His Majesty.” And indeed, His Majesty looked both beautiful and imposing, with an aura of dominance in his eyes that made people want to bow down in worship. Still, he was nothing like Song Yu in temperament—fans jokingly told Song Yu to “wake up” in the comments.
But later, someone noticed something was off. A fish fan happened to stumble upon a photo posted by the Wen Ning Shelter’s Weibo account. In the picture, there was a young man—his build, his posture—though his face was blocked, one glance was enough to tell it was Song Yu. After all, the fish fans knew Song Yu’s physique better than anyone.
Then they saw that Song Yu had donated two million yuan. The fans were instantly filled with admiration and heartache. Sure, the amount might be significant for an ordinary person, but for a top-tier celebrity, it was rather modest—especially since over the past few years, Song Yu had already donated half of his savings to charity, all quietly and without fanfare. Now he was still in the middle of negotiating with a new agency, yet he had just “splurged” another two million. Would he still have money to eat?
Finally, someone realized that the one in Song Yu’s arms was Yi Yi. No wonder the fans hadn’t recognized it right away—because of the camera angle, only His Majesty’s face was visible. As for Yi Yi, only a furry cat backside and tail peeked out, the rest hidden behind His Majesty.
But the fish fans had stared at pictures of Yi Yi countless times while Song Yu was asleep. They managed to recognize Yi Yi purely from that sexy cat butt.
The fans were stunned and immediately demanded an explanation—why was Fu Yuqian’s Yi Yi in Song Yu’s arms? They didn’t even want to think about the implications…
A Pisces girl saw “sugar” and immediately commented: 【Don’t ask. If you must ask, the answer is—they’re raising a son together.】
The fish fans, heartbroken and full of righteous indignation, spoke like loyal ministers remonstrating with a beauty-struck emperor: 【Gege, is Fu Yuqian tempting you with a cat? We admit Yi Yi is cute, but you must resist the temptation! This has to be a trap!】
Unfortunately, Song Yu was too immersed in His Majesty’s powerful, domineering aura to hear the pleas of his loyal subjects.
Fu Yuqian’s fans were long past being bothered. They thought Old Dog Fu’s intentions were as obvious as Sima Zhao’s—everyone could see it. And since Song Yu was beautiful and kindhearted, they could accept it. So they happily promoted in the comments: 【Our gege is amazing too—slim waist, long legs, wealthy family, handsome face. He’s a perfect match for Song Yu gege. Raising a son together sounds great!】
As for the general public, they held a good impression of Song Yu. His donations were real and indisputable, and as for the “shipping”… it was already the year 2200—who cared?
Although His Majesty was cold toward others, he was surprisingly patient with Song Yu, not resisting even when Song Yu patted his head—very well-behaved. And Yi Yi, needless to say, was like a little angel. So this was the joy of raising cats? With His Majesty in one arm and Yi Yi in the other, Song Yu felt he had reached the peak of his life.
But then Yi Yi spoke up: “Daddy, I want to mate with His Majesty. Can you stop touching us, meow?”
Song Yu: “…” Yi Yi, do you even realize you’re burning the bridge after crossing it?
But Song Yu prided himself on being a loving father, so he couldn’t disturb the young couple’s intimate moment. He left the room to them, even thoughtfully closing the door behind him—only to immediately hunch over like a thief and press his ear to the door to listen in.
Fu Yuqian was amused. Even this sneaky Song Yu was unbearably cute. “Yi Yi’s hearing is better than yours.”
Sure enough, Yi Yi’s meow came from inside the room: “Dad, go away.”
Song Yu pouted. What an ungrateful little furball.
“If you want to know what it feels like, there’s a way,” Fu Yuqian said, stepping closer. “I’m willing to try it with you.”
Song Yu’s cheeks flushed before he rolled his eyes. “I’d rather go qipao shopping with you.”
Fu Yuqian: “…”
Since he couldn’t eavesdrop anymore, Song Yu dragged Fu Yuqian to browse qipaos online. He hadn’t realized there were so many styles—long-sleeved, short-sleeved, sleeveless, knee-length, ankle-length, even form-fitting “special interest” versions that made Song Yu’s eyes widen in surprise.
He was quite tempted by one of the form-fitting styles, but thinking of how Fu Yuqian still had to maintain his career, he decided against buying it—if Fu Yuqian wore it, his acting career might be over.
Seeing Song Yu pass over the sexy qipao, Fu Yuqian chuckled softly and lowered his voice. “Xiao Yu, is it that you don’t want anyone else to see my body?”
Song Yu gave a cold snort and pushed him back, keeping him from leaning so close. “I’m just afraid you’d be an eyesore in it, traumatizing your fans’ mental health.”
Then he purchased a black velvet three-quarter-sleeve qipao with gold trim—elegant and classy—asked the seller to send it by express courier for quick delivery, and finally closed his phone. Making a “fighting” gesture, he said, “Dance properly. No slacking off.”
“Yes, sir.” Fu Yuqian knew he couldn’t escape this, nor did he intend to. The outcome was still uncertain.
Song Yu was looking forward to it too, though he didn’t show it.
These past few days he’d been negotiating with Huacan, and today he finally decided to sign with them. Tomorrow he’d go to Huacan to finalize the deal, then head straight into filming. Other arrangements would be left to Yin Lang to handle.
Fu Yuqian asked if Song Yu wanted him to accompany him to the signing, but Song Yu declined.
“Not afraid of owing me a favor?” Fu Yuqian knew that was what Song Yu had been hesitating over before.
Song Yu gave a dazzling smile, his beautiful eyes seeming to glow. “If I sign, it’s Huacan’s honor. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth this contract.”
He was too radiant, too captivating—Fu Yuqian could hardly look away. This was what made Song Yu so irresistible: no matter the situation, he always carried a unique aura of confidence. Fu Yuqian’s gaze deepened, and he smiled back. “I’ll be watching, Movie King Song.”
The next day, Song Yu went to Huacan to sign the contract, officially becoming one of their artists, with agent Yin Lang and benefits on par with Fu Yuqian’s.
Yin Lang was already very familiar with Song Yu—after all, during Song Yu’s “nap period,” Yin Lang had had to pretend to be a female fan online to control the fandom and had nearly lost his innocence in the process. That same girl still hadn’t given up, pestering him almost daily to arrange a meeting with her “brother.” He had planned to ditch the account, but now that he was officially managing Song Yu, the account had to be integrated into the official fan club. Life was too unpredictable.
Yin Lang was exasperated, but the doubled salary kept him from quitting on the spot.
After working with Song Yu, though, he no longer regretted it—Song Yu was a pure little angel: beautiful, kind, talented, hardworking, and far easier to manage than “Fu the Old Dog.” Yin Lang even entertained the whimsical thought of asking the company if he could just manage Song Yu and let Fu Yuqian fend for himself.
After Song Yu signed with Huacan, the company naturally made an official announcement. Song Yu also posted on Weibo to declare his fresh start.
The “fish fans” had a good impression of Huacan, so they were thrilled. They flooded the comments with congratulations and even went to Fu Yuqian’s fans to ask him to look after their “gege.” As for “double fish” shippers, they were over the moon—signing with the same company was basically the same as being family.
By the time the qipao Song Yu had bought arrived, it was almost time for both of them to pack for the film crew.
Song Yu worried about leaving His Majesty and Yi Yi, so he asked if Yi Yi wanted to come to the film city. Yi Yi refused, saying he was fine at home with His Majesty. Yi Yi had grown clever enough to take care of himself, and Song Yu’s mother also lived there to look after the two cats.
After their “great harmony of life,” Yi Yi and His Majesty were inseparable—sharing a cat bed at night, waking up with His Majesty gently licking Yi Yi’s fur to wake him, following each other everywhere, playing fetch together… His Majesty spoiled Yi Yi to no end. Watching them made Song Yu feel a little sour—he suddenly wanted to be in love too.
His feelings for Fu Yuqian had never faded; in fact, they grew stronger every day. Fu Yuqian was simply too charming to resist. But it felt like they lacked the opportunity to reconcile, and Fu Yuqian never brought it up—so Song Yu certainly wouldn’t either.
Thus, even when they boarded the private jet to the film city, they hadn’t made up.
The crew had already filmed most scenes without the two leads. When Fu Yuqian and Song Yu arrived, director Guo Mao was moved to tears—finally, the leads were here.
Song Yu’s suite was right next to Fu Yuqian’s, also a presidential suite. Yin Lang assigned him two assistants: Tang Lei and Liu Yating, both highly competent.
That night, Guo Mao hurriedly organized a script reading. He had seen Song Yu’s acting before—hard to call it good—so he wanted to help Song Yu really digest the script and find his rhythm.
Song Yu had already memorized the script earlier. His memory was excellent now, so he hadn’t forgotten a thing. But as he flipped through it again, something caught his eye.
Why were there suddenly so many kissing scenes—and even a bed scene?!
If this wasn’t Fu Yuqian’s doing, he’d write his own name backward.
Storming over to confront him, Song Yu found Fu Yuqian as composed as ever. “That’s how it was written in the original novel. We have to stay faithful to it. Besides, this is also Director Guo Mao’s decision—it’s not something I alone can change. The reason we cut the kissing scenes before was because my status and Tang Jiayan’s weren’t equal. My fans might not have accepted it, and I was worried that, as a straight man, he wouldn’t be able to portray the right feeling.”
“Then I’m straight too, you know,” Song Yu said, though his voice lacked conviction.
“Hm?” Fu Yuqian smiled playfully. “Are you sure about that?”
Song Yu couldn’t stand it when Fu Yuqian smiled like that—like some seductive male fox spirit, charming everyone in sight.
Fu Yuqian pressed the advantage. “Or… are you afraid?”
“No need to try goading me. If this really is Director Guo’s idea, I’ll definitely play it well.” Song Yu claimed he wasn’t falling for the provocation, but his competitive streak flared. Deep down, he was already thinking: This young master is so irresistible—aren’t you afraid you won’t be able to control yourself during the kissing scene and keep causing NGs?
Wait—could that be Fu Yuqian’s real motive?
Song Yu felt like he’d just uncovered the truth.
Definitely a fox spirit.
The script reading was scheduled for the evening. Director Guo Mao asked Song Yu to pick a scene and give it a try, and once Song Yu started acting, Guo Mao was stunned—everyone else was, too. Song Yu’s performance had a lively, natural charm, as if he had truly brought the character Fu Qingyu to life.
Seeing everyone’s surprised expressions, Song Yu was secretly delighted, though he kept a modest face. “Just a humble attempt.”
Guo Mao gave him a thumbs-up. “Teacher Song, your acting is excellent—but why does your style feel a bit like Teacher Fu’s?”
Song Yu clenched his teeth, but still admitted, “…Teacher Fu has… coached me privately.”
The group chuckled knowingly. Everyone in the circle could see the connection between Fu Yuqian and Song Yu, and since couples weren’t a big deal in the industry, their reactions were only supportive, never judgmental.
Fu Yuqian just smiled in silence.
“Looks like the two leads won’t need any time to get in sync. We can start shooting right away,” Guo Mao said.
Unfortunately, the next day the weather turned against them—it poured rain from morning onward. Guo Mao had to suspend filming until the skies cleared.
Song Yu stayed in his room, browsing the scripts and variety show outlines Yin Lang had sent him. Suddenly, his phone buzzed—it was a message from Fu Yuqian:
Come to my room.
Song Yu was about to reply no when another message arrived:
Help me record a video.
Qipao! Song Yu’s eyes lit up instantly. He changed clothes and hurried next door.
The moment he opened the door, he saw a qipao beauty standing there.
The qipao fit perfectly—Fu Yuqian’s tall, lean frame filled it out well: solid muscle without bulk, the kind of physique that looked slim in clothes but strong underneath. It was a long style reaching the ankles, covering him completely, yet somehow still looking a little mismatched.
He wore a wig styled in a bun, with makeup softening his deep, sharp, mixed-race features—but even so, it was obvious at first glance that he was male. Not ugly, but definitely not beautiful.
Song Yu couldn’t hold back his laughter and burst out: “Hahaha! You look ridiculous! You’re so weird in women’s clothes.”
Fu Yuqian didn’t seem embarrassed. He stepped closer. “And whose idea was this, hm?”
“This is called reaping what you sow,” Song Yu said, lips quick and sharp. “Who told you to be so scheming? You deserve it.”
“The phone stand’s over there—help me set it up. I’ve picked the music. Just play it when I’m ready.” Fu Yuqian ruffled Song Yu’s hair.
Song Yu’s eyes curved into crescents as he grinned, eager to see Fu Yuqian’s dance.
But when the music started—blending with the steady rain outside—Fu Yuqian melted into it effortlessly. He was dancing to the signature hit of the most popular H-country girl group of the moment: lazy yet magnetic, with an undercurrent of power. His arms, his waist, his hips—every movement was captivating, erasing any hint of discord in his outfit and pulling the viewer completely into the performance.
Some people are born dazzling. To Fu Yuqian, he was the very embodiment of starlight.
Song Yu was utterly entranced, not even noticing when Fu Yuqian moved close—until a hand slid under him and a low, dangerous whisper brushed his ear:
“Song Xiaoyu… you’re hard.”
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