To Sink Into You - Chapter 22

In a deluxe room on the twelfth floor of a hotel near the film studio, Yin Rong knelt on the floor, his cheeks swollen and red, sobbing uncontrollably as he repeatedly apologized, “I was wrong… I’ll never do it again…”

“Can’t you just stay out of trouble?” Qian Lang kicked him. “Damn it! Do you even know who Wen Yuxi’s backing is? Even I wouldn’t dare mess with her! Where the hell did you get the nerve?!”

Yin Rong collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently, tears and snot streaming down his face. “I’m sorry…”

Qian Lang lit a cigarette, his frustration palpable. He’d already been chewed out by Qian Randong after getting drunk and harassing Wen Yuxi, thanks to Ming Qian’s warning. Another incident like this, and he’d lose his entire allowance for the next year!

This worthless man! Brainless idiot!

Qian Lang, his patience exhausted, kicked Yin Rong again.

“I actually cared about you, thought I could come here to relax. But you? You just keep screwing things up! Next time you pull something like this, you can kiss your career goodbye and beg for scraps on the street!”

Yin Rong’s face turned deathly pale. With his handsome features and pampered upbringing, he had been the center of attention since childhood, especially after differentiating as an Omega. With Qian Lang’s backing, his career in the entertainment industry had been smooth sailing. He couldn’t even imagine a life stripped of its glamour.

“I’ll never do that again,” Yin Rong said, genuinely terrified. If only he’d had his assistant thoroughly investigate everyone around him beforehand, he wouldn’t have ended up in this mess.

Who could understand what these rich people were thinking? Why couldn’t they just stay home and be decorative vases? Why insist on working as a makeup artist on a film set, doing menial labor? Isn’t it normal to be treated like a commoner when you’re acting like one? How is this his fault?!

The more Yin Rong thought about it, the angrier he became, glaring resentfully at Qian Lang’s leather shoes. If only his sugar daddy had some backbone, he wouldn’t have to fear the powerful figures behind Wen Yuxi. What a useless, spineless fool!

At that moment, Qian Lang yanked Yin Rong to his feet, pinched his chin, and snarled, “If it weren’t for that pretty face of yours, I’d have kicked your stupid ass to the curb long ago.”

Yin Rong froze, then his mind began racing.

That’s right, he thought. With my looks, I could easily charm any wealthy and powerful person. Why should I limit myself to Qian Lang?

A smile crept across Yin Rong’s lips.

Time flew by in a blur of activity, and before they knew it, October was drawing to a close.

On the evening of the 28th, after showering and settling into bed with her phone, Wen Yuxi received a call from Ming Qian.

“Good evening, Sister. Still awake?”

“Good evening,” Ming Qian said with a soft laugh. “Just got off work. What about you? Not asleep yet?”

“I just finished too,” Wen Yuxi replied, turning over in bed, her bright eyes hinting at anticipation. “What’s up? Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

“Busy and forgot?” Ming Qian teased gently. “You little scatterbrain, tomorrow’s your birthday! I’m planning to visit you on set. Will you have time?”

Wen Yuxi’s almond-shaped eyes curved into crescents as she covered her mouth to stifle a giggle—she knew Ming Qian would remember her birthday.

“Of course I’ll have time!” she said playfully. “Could you bring some tiramisu when you come? I’m craving it.”

“Absolutely,” Ming Qian agreed without hesitation. “Anything else you want? I’ll bring it all.”

Wen Yuxi hummed thoughtfully. “Then add a black coffee from Starbucks.”

“Okay,” Ming Qian said, suppressing a smile. “Why do you love coffee so much? Be careful you don’t stay up all night.”

“I won’t,” Wen Yuxi replied meaningfully. “I love black coffee—I love it more than anything.”

Ming Qian’s long lashes fluttered, a sudden unease settling over her. She feigned seriousness. “Even if you love it, you should drink less. It’s not good for you.”

“I know~” Wen Yuxi asked with a cheerful smile, “So, will you bring me coffee tomorrow?”

Ming Qian sighed, her tone a mix of exasperation and fondness. “Yes.”

The next morning, while eating breakfast, Wen Yuxi asked Shi Yuan, “Master, it’s my birthday today, and my wife is visiting the set. Could I have half a day off?”

“Birthday?” Shi Yuan raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. “Half a day? What can you even do with that? Take the whole day off and enjoy your birthday properly.”

Wen Yuxi excitedly hugged her. “Thank you, Master! I’ll cover all your work tomorrow!”

Shi Yuan pushed her away dismissively. “Alright, hurry up and go.”

Wen Yuxi quickly finished her meal, put on a baseball cap, and hurried out of the set. She sent Ming Qian a voice message: “Sister, where are you?”

“Yuxi, I’m right here.”

The familiar voice came from ahead. Wen Yuxi looked up and saw the woman she had been longing for standing beneath a tree, wearing a pale blue dress. She stood tall and graceful, her presence radiating gentle tranquility.

“Ming Qian!” Wen Yuxi’s face lit up with joy as she lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Ming Qian. Like a puppy, she nuzzled into the crook of Ming Qian’s neck, murmuring softly, “Sister, I’ve missed you so much.”

Ming Qian stiffened, her senses enveloped by the sweet, clear scent of rosemary. The fragrance gradually drew out the desires she had hidden in the corner of her heart, sending them coursing through her veins to her limbs, slowly eroding her rationality.

“Alright,” Ming Qian said softly, her expression strained. “Be good. Stop teasing me.”

Wen Yuxi looked utterly wronged, her voice pitiful as she asked, “Sister, we haven’t seen each other in over a month. Don’t you miss me at all?”

Ming Qian’s fair cheeks flushed a faint pink. She averted her gaze, as if embarrassed, and said earnestly, “Of course I miss you.”

Wen Yuxi smiled contentedly, reluctantly releasing her. She greeted Qing Zeyya, who was standing nearby, with a cheerful, “Hi, Sister Qing!”

“Hi, Miss Wen,” Qing Zeyya replied with a smile, lifting the packaged box in her hand. “Your tiramisu and coffee are here.”

“Thank you!” Wen Yuxi’s face lit up. “Let’s find a place to sit. Should we go to the hotel where the crew’s staying, or find a restaurant? Have you two had breakfast yet?”

“Not yet,” Ming Qian said. “Let’s find a restaurant first.”

The three of them entered a breakfast shop near the film set. Ming Qian and Qing Zeyya ordered steamed dumplings and congee, while Wen Yuxi seized the opportunity to devour her dessert and coffee.

After a satisfying meal, they headed to the hotel where the film crew was staying. The entertainment industry operated on a strict hierarchy: lead actors, A-list celebrities, and the director occupied presidential suites; supporting actors with smaller roles stayed in deluxe suites; and other staff members were assigned standard single rooms.

As the door opened, Ming Qian surveyed the room. The standard single room was rather ordinary, with uneven floors and peeling wallpaper, but Wen Yuxi had cleaned it meticulously, making it feel spotless and cozy.

“Sit down,” Wen Yuxi said, pouring two glasses of water. “The journey must have been tiring. You should rest for a bit.”

Qing Zeyya accepted the glass. “Thank you, Miss Wen.”

“You’re welcome. Please, sit down.” Wen Yuxi handed the other glass to Ming Qian. “Sister, have some water.”

“Thank you,” Ming Qian said, settling into the chair by the bed. “How much free time do you have today?”

Wen Yuxi beamed, shaking her head excitedly. “Master granted me a whole day off! It’s all free time!”

“Really?” Ming Qian’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “I checked out some nearby attractions yesterday. After you rest a bit, I’ll take you sightseeing. How does that sound?”

Wen Yuxi’s eyes curved into crescents. “Great!”