RBNR Ch42: Don’t meddle in adult matters

The reception wound down around eleven. Guests took their leave in succession, exchanging farewell embraces by the fountain.

Jacob invited Feng Chengyu and Qin Bao to spend the night at the chateau, but Feng Chengyu politely declined: “Thank you for the kind offer, but we prefer a little time for just the two of us.”

“Alright, alright, I know you newlyweds are thick as thieves.” Jacob shared an embrace with Feng Chengyu. “Congratulations on finding a partner to spend the rest of your life with. Happy wedding.”

Feng Chengyu said, “Thank you.”

Jacob shook hands with Qin Bao as well: “Xiao Bao… I can call you that, right?”

Since all of Feng Chengyu’s friends called him that, Qin Bao was past caring to correct him: “Mm.”

“I hope you two can visit again when you have the chance. Next time, I’ll take you to see the flat Feng Chengyu and I shared back in the day.” Jacob flaunted his deep pockets with an easy wink, “I already bought the whole building.”

Only the driver was in the car on the way back to the hotel; Lin Zi was nowhere to be seen.

Feng Chengyu explained that Lin Zi had other assignments to attend to. That was the life of an employee: working when the boss worked, and working when the boss took time off. Still young and in his prime, Lin Zi sometimes seemed even more driven and ambitious than Feng Chengyu himself.

“Are you sure you aren’t just exploiting the poor guy?” Having already removed his mask, Qin Bao wore a faint flush of tipsiness from the wine. “Even having him fetch your clothes from the house…”

Going to retrieve clothes meant stepping into their walk-in closet.

Even though everything had been tidied up, it still felt slightly awkward.

Feng Chengyu said, “I asked him for a favor. Our working hours and private schedules blend together so much that it’s often difficult to draw a clean line between official and personal matters. I pay him two separate salaries.”

Credit where it was due: Feng Chengyu handled such matters impeccably. He was always attentive and considerate in every direction—just as he had sent fine teas and collector’s items to Old Master Qin and his maternal grandfather well before the wedding, and never missed sending holiday greetings to the elders.

Lin Zi had once mentioned to Qin Bao that Feng Chengyu was a remarkably generous and thoughtful boss.

Leaning back against the headrest, Qin Bao grumbled internally at Feng Chengyu’s thoroughly “grown-up” brand of seamless perfection.

He would probably never pick up that knack.

Feng Chengyu asked, “Have you considered hiring an assistant?”

In fact, when Qin Bao stepped in as an emergency replacement for Baufini in Grodie, An Qingyan had posed that exact question. In the past, Brother Lu had overseen every detail for him. Although they shared excellent rapport, Brother Lu had often been stretched thin during Qin Bao’s peak seasons. Back when they planned to renew with SISI, the agency had intended to assign him an assistant, but everything had fallen by the wayside after the subsequent falling-out.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Qin Bao replied. “I’m not used to having strangers suddenly inserted into my daily life.”

Knowing how fiercely independent he had always been, Feng Chengyu refrained from meddling.

Instead, it was Qin Bao who suddenly broke the silence: “Feng Chengyu, what would you think if I worked independently from now on?”

On this foreign night, having just emerged from a sudden burst of high-intensity runway work, a rare urge to confide swept over Qin Bao.

Perhaps because he no longer had a confidant by his side, or perhaps because Feng Chengyu truly exuded an unshakable reliability, the tangled concerns he had harbored inside spilled out despite himself.

Evidently unprepared for Qin Bao to open up about personal matters—and caught off guard by the abrupt change of subject—Feng Chengyu looked visibly surprised: “Hm?”

Qin Bao turned his face toward the window, deadpan: “Just asking off the top of my head. Forget it if you don’t feel like discussing it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Feng Chengyu’s tone remained as gentle as ever. “Which agencies are currently in talks with you?”

Qin Bao hesitated. Seeing that the man genuinely didn’t mind offering his perspective, he parted his lips to name a few: “Dz, Yuejia, Fufang Agency.”

He paused, then tacked on, “And SISI.”

On the very night Qin Bao touched down in Grodie and exploded across the trending searches, SISI had finally reached out.

The old agency truly lived up to its reputation, putting forward the shrewd and calculating Leo right away. After working with him for several years, Qin Bao knew intimately how cautious and risk-averse the man could be. As an executive aware of Qin Bao’s family background, Leo had held his ground even after seeing Qin Bao mingle with the producer, Sister Lü. Old Master Qin’s control was like a ticking time bomb; Leo refused to sign an expensive talent who might be pulled off the runway at any moment. So he had waited until Qin Bao was physically walking the runway before making the call to offer a renewal.

Feng Chengyu said, “Fufang Agency is solid. They’re the most authoritative and globally integrated modeling agency. Signing with them would give your career a much stronger trajectory.”

Qin Bao looked at him, curious: “How would you know that?”

He hardly believed an Alliance Councilor kept tabs on the corporate landscape of the fashion industry.

Feng Chengyu offered no direct answer, merely curling his lips into a faint smile: “Why aren’t you considering them?”

Qin Bao was no fool; he could roughly infer why Feng Chengyu was knowledgeable on the subject.

A warm swell expanded in his chest. Shifting his gaze away, he feigned nonchalance: “It’s not that I’m not considering them. I’m still weighing my options.”

“What about SISI?” Feng Chengyu asked again.

Qin Bao murmured, “…I don’t know.”

Had Leo called just a few days earlier, Qin Bao would have agreed on the spot, as his old agency offered a familiar sense of security. But that night, he had hesitated.

Quiet settled over the car. Feng Chengyu didn’t press, allowing Qin Bao space to collect his thoughts.

Qin Bao wondered whether everyone in politics possessed this innate ability to listen attentively—waiting to pinpoint vulnerabilities, just as Mr. Qin always did. Yet Feng Chengyu didn’t give off the impression of someone dissecting his weaknesses; he was simply listening.

“I don’t want to place the reins of my life in anyone else’s hands ever again,” Qin Bao said at last, phrasing it cleanly without pretentious self-analysis or drawn-out explanations. “I want to try taking control of my own life.”

He was sick of his work being constrained, sick of an invisible hand pressing down on his head. Even if his present situation remained forced and born of compromise, Qin Bao wanted to carve out an escape route, opening up more avenues for himself. Only by climbing high enough and growing strong enough could he secure the room to breathe freely.

None of this needed to be laid bare, nor did he wish to overshare with Feng Chengyu.

Having chosen this path, Qin Bao understood that the only course available was to make the absolute most of these five years.

Hearing this, Feng Chengyu actually responded, “I think that’s completely viable.”

Qin Bao didn’t catch his exact drift: “What?”

Feng Chengyu said, “Operating under your own name without signing with any agency or management firm—I think you can pull it off.”

“Really?” Qin Bao felt a sliver of dissatisfaction. “Are you just blowing smoke? I’m not An Qingyan; I don’t have his industry clout. Striking out independently isn’t that simple. I’m asking you for genuine input, not looking for you to butter me up.”

Feng Chengyu chuckled softly: “I’m not blowing smoke, nor am I buttering you up. You aren’t An Qingyan, true, but you are Qin Bao. Since you managed to reach your current stature entirely on your own merits, I trust you have what it takes to climb even higher and farther on your own.”

Qin Bao froze, a warm flush slowly creeping up his cheeks: “…You certainly know how to shower people with praise. It’s a waste you aren’t doing freelance work in a praise group.”

Feng Chengyu: “Is what I said not the truth?”

Qin Bao had never lacked confidence. Straightening his posture, he lifted his chin with haughty pride: “Of course it’s the truth.”

Feng Chengyu’s dark eyes fixed on him, crinkling with amusement, as if looking at a child.

“What are you staring at?” Qin Bao grabbed the mask resting on the seat beside him and strapped it straight back on. “I’m tired. Wake me up when we arrive.”

The craftsmanship of this mask was genuinely poor; his face was already burning before he had even settled it into place.

Having barely slept the previous night, Qin Bao closed his eyes and drifted off along the way. It was Feng Chengyu who gently woke him when they pulled up to the hotel.

Back upstairs, he discovered that Feng Chengyu had actually booked a separate room and wasn’t staying the night in his suite.

When he wants to sleep with me, he refuses to leave; when he doesn’t, he books another room? Qin Bao thought to himself.

Not that he cared—sleeping alone was vastly more comfortable anyway.

“Leave whenever you want tomorrow morning. No need to wake me; I have things to take care of.” Qin Bao faced away from the doorway, slipping off his suit jacket as he spoke.

He had scheduled a fitting with Mu Xian and changed his flight to the afternoon. As for when Feng Chengyu planned to depart, that was none of his concern.

He merely heard Feng Chengyu murmur an agreeable “Alright.”

Then, Qin Bao was embraced from behind.

“Rest well.” Feng Chengyu leaned against the curve of his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. His hand lightly cradled Qin Bao’s throat from behind, fingers kneading the nape of his neck and jawline with subtle, unspoken deliberation. “My flight is at six in the morning.”

Qin Bao swallowed hard involuntarily. Enveloped by the Alpha’s pheromones, his body heated up, and the repeatedly bitten scent gland at his nape twinged with a dull ache.

He suddenly realized why they were sleeping in separate rooms.

…Feng Chengyu possessed a shred of conscience after all.

“Remember our agreement. See you at home,” Feng Chengyu said. “Goodnight, Xiao Bao.”

Hearing the door click shut, Qin Bao took a few steps forward and threw himself heavily onto the bed. The restless agitation inside him took a full two minutes to gradually subside.

If you’re so keen on honoring the agreement, bring it on.

He was young and energetic; why should he fear the seduction of an older man? It was just two days a week—it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford the sleep.

Besides, Feng Chengyu was the one who had pushed for it so insistently. If he ever dared break the schedule… at worst, they’d go down together.

When Qin Bao woke the following day, Feng Chengyu had already departed Grodie.

Qin Bao headed over to Mu Xian’s boutique for his measurements, then carved out time to pick up souvenirs for Ms. Rong and the family. Upon touching down back home, his phone was flooded with incoming notifications—messages from casual acquaintances, texts from An Qingyan, and even a message from Jin Si.

An Qingyan: [Bao, should I ask… are you tired of living?]

Attached was a news clip headlined: [Qin Bao Secretly Meets Male Model After Baufini Show, Spends Two Nights in Grodie for a Steamy Rendezvous]

Qin Bao tapped into the article: “…”

What has the world come to when even runway models get shadowed by paparazzi?

The person in the photos was unmistakably him, and the setting was indeed the hotel in Grodie, captured through the window across two consecutive nights. Given the distance, the shots were somewhat grainy.

In the first photo, he was passing by the window draped loosely in an unbuttoned shirt that barely grazed the tops of his thighs, an unlit cigarette tucked between his fingers—a shot ripe for wild speculation.

In the second photo, the curtains had been pulled shut, with the faint silhouette of a figure pacing behind the fabric—presumably Feng Chengyu.

Nothing else had been captured.

Qin Bao could only count his blessings that the paparazzi’s lens hadn’t been trained on the private balcony; otherwise, the resulting snapshots would have been infinitely more explosive.

Then came the shots from the second night. Qin Bao was captured stepping out of the vehicle first, followed by Feng Chengyu. While framed with crisp clarity, the angles caught only his side profile and the broad expanse of Feng Chengyu’s back.

Qin Bao broke into a cold sweat. Thank goodness Lin Zi hadn’t been in the frame; between Feng Chengyu’s recognizable build and Lin Zi by his side, netizens would have identified him in seconds.

That would have triggered a proper circus.

He texted An Qingyan back: [What male model? That’s Feng Chengyu.]

An Qingyan: […]

Seemingly struck speechless, An Qingyan took ages to send a follow-up: [Be honest with me, aren’t you two glued a little too tight? You barely set foot in Grodie before he tails right behind you—are you two conjoined twins?! [Envy]]

Qin Bao: [[Smile] He came for an alumni reunion.]

The incidental kind.

An Qingyan raged: [Judging by that physique, I genuinely thought he was some male model! I spent ages filtering through possible candidates in the industry, only to overlook the most glaringly obvious answer!]

Qin Bao was more concerned with the earlier message: [Wait, what did you mean by ‘tired of living’?]

An Qingyan: [Isn’t it obvious? That’s Feng Chengyu! An S-rank Alpha! Every volatile element is checked off. If you actually got caught messing around on the side, anyone could guess the fallout with their eyes closed. Go ahead and test your luck if you don’t believe me.]

Qin Bao: [You think I’m afraid of him?]

An Qingyan: [Either way, I was already prepping to collect your remains.]

The two chatted back and forth for a stretch. An Qingyan cautioned Qin Bao that if they intended to keep their marriage under wraps, he needed to guard his privacy far more vigilantly moving forward. He had just staged a high-profile comeback and was riding a massive wave of attention; the nail that sticks out gets hammered down. To generate clicks, paparazzi would stop at nothing, caring little whether their target was a high-fashion model or a mainstream celebrity.

Qin Bao pondered for a moment, then logged into his long-neglected Flow account. Seizing the momentum, he took the opportunity to alter the display handle he had carried for five years, stripping the “SISI” prefix from his name.

—Qin Bao V: I did not secretly meet any male model. Moving forward, I will be operating as an independent talent. Thank you for the support.

The moment the post went live, the comment section erupted like a dropped match in dry brush.

[Bao Bao, you’re finally back!]

[BB, do you have any idea how breathtaking you looked on the runway? Truly out of this world!]

[I’ve rewatched the replay dozens of times; I literally dream about our boy glowing on stage, waaaah]

[I beg you, stop playing college student! You were born for the runway!]

[Going independent is amazing! Good riddance to SISI! Bye-bye! Our boy is finally free!]

Scrolling through the deluge of replies, someone finally keyed in on the other figure in the photos.

[Not a male model? Then who is he? Don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend?! Tell me, tell me right now!]

Spotting the comment, Qin Bao tapped out a brisk reply: [No.]

The fan pressed further: [If he’s not your boyfriend, who on earth is he? Bao, you’re only eighteen, what are you doing [Crying]]

Qin Bao replied once more, adhering entirely to his signature, unapologetic style:

[Grown-up business. Mind your own.]