Swallowing His Frustration

Yan Ningke opened his eyes to a snow-white ceiling and an IV stand with a bag of fluid hanging from it.

Everything was quiet, and his head no longer hurt with yesterday's splitting pain.

He turned his head and saw the man sitting in a wheelchair beneath the window, resting with his eyes closed.

The last slanting rays of sunlight fell across Shao Ke's sharply defined face. On closer inspection, even the fine down on his skin was visible.

Not wanting to disturb him, Yan Ningke endured the aches in his body and reached for his phone on the bedside table to check the time.

Good grief, it was already five in the afternoon. He really had slept for ages.

He carefully struggled into a sitting position. He had just put on his slippers when Shao Ke spoke.

"Where are you going?"

He was actually a little embarrassed. Yan Ningke pressed his lips together awkwardly and whispered, "The bathroom. I'm about to burst."

Shao Ke: "..."

When Yan Ningke came out after washing his hands, several people in white coats had entered the hospital room.

Once he lay back down and underwent a round of thorough examinations, he heard the heavenly words that he could go home to recuperate.

Honestly, even though he was staying in a VIP room, it still felt uncomfortable, and doing anything was inconvenient.

Yan Ningke changed out of his hospital gown into the clothes the driver had brought for him and went home with Shao Ke.

He had been ill, after all, and his complexion still wasn't good. Shao Ke didn't slave-drive him, instead hiring a housekeeper to come over and cook three meals a day.

Yan Ningke spent his days in comfort, doing nothing but eating and sleeping, and heading to the study to read in his spare time.

The weather was scorching, but the room stayed at a comfortable temperature. Curled up on the sofa with a book in his arms, he would turn two pages at most before falling sound asleep.

Several days passed, and he hadn't even finished ten pages.

Starting the day after his discharge, his phone never stopped ringing. At first, it was always the same number, but later, it became all sorts of unfamiliar numbers.

Yan Ningke took one look, tossed his phone into a drawer, and went about his days as usual.

That day, before he was even awake, his ringtone started blaring like a summons to his death.

Yan Ningke put up with it for ages, but it wouldn't stop. Irritated, he took out his phone to turn it off, only to discover it was his long-absent manager.

Yan Ningke answered.

A barrage of furious abuse immediately assaulted him, making his ears tingle. "Yan Ningke, are you fucking dead? Can't you hear me calling you all these times?"

Yan Ningke held the phone away, picked at his ear, and said calmly, "Not dead. Doing great, actually."

The other man seemed so furious he might have a heart attack. He took a deep breath and snapped, "I don't care whether you're dead or not. Even if you die, don't think you can get out of the eight million in breach-of-contract penalties! Come to the office tomorrow afternoon, then attend a banquet with me in the evening!"

Certain Yan Ningke wouldn't dare disobey, he hung up without waiting for a response.

Yan Ningke tossed his phone aside, flopped onto the bed, and rolled over.

Aaaaah, this is so annoying!

Between being a pushover and being angry, he chose to be an angry pushover!

With an enormous debt hanging over him, however unwilling he was, he could only cooperate with the company.

Over dinner that evening, he mentioned it to Shao Ke. Before Shao Ke could speak, Yan Ningke cut him off. "Let's get this straight first. This is unpaid work. I'm not getting a salary."

So there was no money to share!

Shao Ke glanced at him and said flatly, "Understood."

The next afternoon, Yan Ningke had the driver drop him off a hundred meters from the company and strolled the rest of the way.

Following his memory, he found Yu Ping's office. Once he arrived, Yu Ping made no conversation and simply instructed an assistant to take him to get his hair and makeup done.

Two other artists were in the makeup room. They looked rather aloof, sitting there with their phones without speaking.

Yan Ningke found an empty seat and sat down. The makeup artist lifted his chin and studied him for a long while before getting started.

This was different from being on set. Makeup for filming mainly involved foundation, with an emphasis on a natural, everyday look. This time, his hair alone took over half an hour.

Once it was finished, Yan Ningke barely had time to glance at himself in the mirror before the assistant thrust a suit into his hands and ushered him into the fitting room.

Ten minutes later, the assistant called from outside, "Mr. Yan, do the clothes not fit?"

That wasn't it.

Bare-chested, Yan Ningke looked at the black velvet suit in his hands, unable to understand where the shirt had gone.

"Sorry, could I ask if you're sure there isn't a piece missing?"

There was a pause outside for a few seconds, possibly as the assistant tried to recall. "Nothing's missing."

Yan Ningke: "..."

He put the clothes on and, enduring the discomfort of air on his chest, swished the curtain open.

The assistant looked up and froze.

Yan Ningke already had good skin, and the expanse exposed by the deep V neckline was so fair it practically glowed, its partial concealment leaving plenty to the imagination.

Yan Ningke had never worn anything like this. He raised a hand to cover himself and asked awkwardly, "Is this how it's supposed to be worn?"

The assistant blinked. "Yes! But hold on a moment."

The assistant dashed out like the wind and returned with a sparkling diamond brooch.

After pinning it on in a few quick movements and adjusting his clothes, the assistant stepped back to admire him. "Perfect!"

Once everything was ready, he waited nearly another hour in the lounge before Yu Ping came to fetch him.

To be honest, Yu Ping had come intending to give him some instructions, but the moment he entered and met his eyes-

What was I going to say again?

Yan Ningke's look today was so formal he could have gone straight to a red carpet event.

The makeup artist seemed to know their purpose in attending the banquet and had therefore given him an exaggerated stage look.

Perfectly applied brown eyeliner, sparkling eyeshadow, and pale pink, dewy lipstick.

And that distinctive black velvet suit with its deep V neckline.

Compared with his usual sunny, handsome style, he had more of a mature man's air today.

Yu Ping believed that if he took him out looking like this, absolutely everyone would turn to look.

With a mixture of delight and complicated feelings, Yu Ping took him to the banquet venue.

As they approached the entrance, he turned back and warned, "Once we're inside, read the room. Don't cause any trouble."

Yan Ningke replied lazily, "Oh."

This was quite a large banquet, with a constant stream of luxury cars at the entrance and figures milling about.

Yu Ping had put a great deal of effort into securing an invitation to this banquet, so he wasn't about to pass up any opportunity to make a useful connection.

Yan Ningke followed behind him, holding a glass of champagne, drifting over here and smiling over there.

After making one round, he felt as though his face was going stiff.

While Yu Ping wasn't looking, Yan Ningke slipped away and found a corner where he could sit and rest.

There were quite a few big stars in the hall, too, all beaming as they worked the room.

The blue-toned lighting seemed to cast a layer of masks over these people.

As he zoned out, a commotion arose at the entrance.

Yan Ningke didn't want to move. He craned his neck to look but couldn't see anything.

He vaguely heard people talking. Apparently, some big shot had arrived.

But none of that had anything to do with a nobody like him.

"What are you hiding here for?"

Yu Ping found him through the crowd and scolded him under his breath.

"Come on, come meet someone with me. I'm telling you, this is a major producer. Behave yourself when we get there, and you might land a third male lead role."