◎Let’s Be Friends◎
Jiang Suizhi did have plans to bring the child back—just not yet. With Jiang Yan now gone, he wouldn’t consider reuniting with the child until he could guarantee a completely safe environment for them to grow up in. Right now was a critical period.
Though he had already secured control over the conglomerate, he was still investigating the cause of Jiang Yan’s death.
Growing up in such an environment had taught Jiang Suizhi that nothing in this world was purely coincidental. For instance, why did Jiang Yan happen to get into a car accident on the very day he went to find the child?
Call him a born cynic if you will, but he couldn’t shake off his suspicions.
As it turned out, this paranoia sometimes worked in his favor—he had already caught a lead.
As for the child, he had admittedly taken some underhanded measures. Without disrupting Le Qing and the children’s daily lives, Sister Wang would send him regular updates. Today, due to a change in location, she messaged him early:
"Mr. Jiang, Little Master and Little Miss are about to start filming. As their live-in nanny, I’ll be accompanying them throughout. Should we proceed as usual?"
Jiang Suizhi: "Mm. How was today?"
Sister Wang: "Le Qing tested my skills and had me prepare dinner. Later, she asked me to make a shopping list and bought everything we needed."
Jiang Suizhi: "The house didn’t have them?"
Sister Wang: "Daily necessities are well-stocked, but for raising two three-year-olds, there’s still a lot missing. We’ll need to gradually fill the gaps."
Jiang Suizhi: "And her attitude?"
Sister Wang: "Le Qing is very easygoing—never loses her temper and is very patient with the children."
Reading this, Jiang Suizhi opened a private file on his computer.
Aside from the children’s health records, there was also one for Le Qing.
He added another observation to his report: Lacks experience in childcare.
No wonder Lin Jian had suggested he bring the children back first.
Sister Wang: "Though there’s something odd."
Jiang Suizhi’s fingers glided over his phone screen: "Go on."
Sister Wang: "Apart from the room I temporarily arranged for myself, there are three other empty rooms—one is Le Qing’s master bedroom, and the other two are the children’s."
That sounded normal. Jiang Suizhi waited patiently.
Sister Wang: "But when I bathed the children tonight, I noticed they sleep in Le Qing’s master bedroom. It’s clearly not a converted nursery—just a regular adult’s room."
From the vanity to the walk-in closet, everything was designed for adults, with layouts suited to their height. The only childlike touches were the clothes in the wardrobe—Le Qing had instructed Sister Wang to prepare the children’s outfits in advance each day.
But that alone wasn’t the strange part. What puzzled Sister Wang was Le Qing’s own room.
Perhaps because she was caring for the children, Le Qing had a habit of leaving her door slightly ajar. Passing by, Sister Wang had peeked inside.
Compared to the master bedroom, the secondary room was starkly plain. The small bed might fit a child, but for an adult like Le Qing, it was barely adequate. The room had minimal furnishings—just a small cabinet for clothes and some skincare products.
This confirmed it was Le Qing’s room.
Why would she forgo the spacious walk-in closet and vanity in the master bedroom, settling instead for a cramped cabinet?
After Sister Wang arrived today, Le Qing had furniture delivered—only then did she seem to remember to have the vanity moved from the master bedroom to the secondary room.
Jiang Suizhi arched a brow and jotted a question mark in his notes: "She only moved it today?"
Sister Wang: "Yes. But when the workers went in, I noticed she likely hadn’t just started staying there. They also fixed the air conditioner while they were at it."
Jiang Suizhi: "Anything else?"
Sister Wang: "No."
Jiang Suizhi: "If you notice anything unusual during your time there, don’t wait for the daily report. Contact me immediately—or Assistant Lin if I’m unavailable."
When no further messages came, Jiang Suizhi twirled his pen, deep in thought.
From the looks of it, Le Qing and the children must have switched rooms only recently.
But why?
Piecing together Sister Wang’s details, he finally wrote down two words:
"Air conditioner."
They’d switched rooms because it was broken. But if the nanny hadn’t come and necessitated a new bed, would Le Qing have ever bothered to fix it or change her living conditions?
Based on his investigations, she wasn’t short on money.
Or had she planned to endure it indefinitely?
Soon, another report landed in his private inbox.
This one came from Lin Shengxi, who had revisited the neighborhood after Lin Jian’s earlier visit, coaxing more information out of the residents.
Lin Shengxi even sent a follow-up WeChat message: "Bro, don’t get mad when you read this. There might be some misunderstanding—though I can’t explain it either. But we’ve seen how they interact."
What could Lin Shengxi be so certain would infuriate him?
Jiang Suizhi clicked open the file, his eyes cooling as he scanned line after line.
Most of it was baseless gossip from the residents—except for one credible account: an elderly woman who spent her days collecting discarded delivery boxes in the complex.
The woman couldn’t connect Le Qing to the two children, having never seen them together.
But when shown photos of the kids, she recognized them immediately.
"In the dead of winter, they were dressed so lightly—their little faces pale, their hands frozen stiff. They told me they were hungry, that their aunt wasn’t home to feed them. So I gave them something to eat and let them tag along while I gathered boxes. Another time, I saw them holding hands on their way back, saying they’d gone out to collect plastic bottles. What a tragedy—kids that young could’ve been snatched up or gotten lost! Who knows what kind of family they’re from? The parents are downright despicable. That day, when I washed their hands, I noticed scars on their bodies—clearly from beatings, some old, some fresh. I wanted to track down their guardians, but the kids kept tight-lipped. Haven’t seen them lately—no idea how they’re doing now."
Scars?
Jiang Suizhi messaged Sister Wang: "Did you find any injuries when bathing them?"
Sister Wang replied promptly: "Yes. I was planning to mention it in tonight’s report. There are some faint marks—nothing painful, and the children don’t seem bothered. At their age, bumps and bruises are normal."
So not a mix of old and new injuries?
Jiang Suizhi pressed further: "Are the children still awake?"
Sister Wang replied, "No, according to Miss Le Qing's usual routine, bedtime stories are required. But the two children took their picture books to Miss Le Qing's room, saying they wanted to tell her a story. I didn't want to intrude, so I stayed in the living room to prepare for tomorrow's luggage."
Jiang Suizhi, who had previously reviewed all the videos of the two little ones posted online: "..."
It wasn't entirely clear whether Le Qing was skilled at taking care of children, but it seemed the children were already quite adept at taking care of her.
At that moment, Le Qing lay on her small bed, feeling somewhat bewildered.
She had thought that with Sister Wang's arrival, she wouldn’t need to tell any stories tonight. The air conditioning technician had just fixed the unit in her room, and she had planned to sleep early—finally getting a chance to rest ahead of time. She had already completed all her bedtime preparations.
Perhaps because the room had grown warmer, she felt a little unaccustomed to it. She stared blankly at the dark ceiling for a while.
Only now did she realize how soundproof this high-end apartment was—she couldn’t hear Sister Wang telling stories at all. It was eerily quiet.
Then, a beam of light slowly expanded from the gap under her door.
She turned her head and saw the two little ones standing side by side at her doorway.
Le Qing wasn’t particularly demanding about her living conditions. Though the small bed wasn’t as spacious as the one in the master bedroom, she could stretch her limbs just fine and had no intention of replacing it.
As for the air conditioning, she only really used this room for sleeping. Occasionally, she’d end up dozing off in the master bedroom after being dragged there by the two children.
The new quilt she bought after arriving in this world was thick enough, so she never felt uncomfortable. Since she had lived this way before, she never thought to fix the AC.
If Sister Wang hadn’t mentioned it today, she wouldn’t have even remembered.
After all, she would be leaving eventually. She didn’t want to leave too many traces of herself here for personal reasons.
Now, with the two little ones crowding around her, her first thought was: Good thing the AC got fixed.
She steadied herself and tried to gently push them away. On the larger bed, it was manageable, but on this one, it was far too cramped.
But when she lifted one child with each hand, they thought it was a game and clung to her arms, refusing to let go.
Their four little legs swung back and forth. "Woo-hoo~ We're flying~"
The previously quiet room was now filled with the children's excited voices, the air practically rippling with their energy.
"..."
Flying, huh?
If she didn’t have some stamina, she really wouldn’t be able to keep up with these kids’ strange little habits.
Would I have to start working out just for this?
Le Qing’s biceps were practically flexing from the effort. Worried they might fall, she lowered her arms. "Why aren’t you listening to Auntie Wang’s stories?"
Little Le'an sprawled over half of her hand. "Auntie doesn’t listen."
"I’m an adult." Le Qing turned on the light, wincing at the sudden brightness before instinctively raising her hand to shield the children’s eyes. "Adults don’t need bedtime stories."
Little Le'an grabbed her fingers. "Why not?"
Le Qing had already experienced the endless "whys" of children and reflexively answered, "Adults don’t need someone to help them fall asleep."
"That’s not true." Little Le Jia sat up properly and opened his picture book. "You needed me before."
There had been times when Le Qing had dozed off to the sound of Little Le Jia’s storytelling.
Her face flushed slightly. "Not anymore."
Little Le Jia, who had been earnestly searching for a story, looked up with a hurt expression. His lips pressed together for a long moment before he finally said, "I learned a new story… to tell you."
You can barely speak in full sentences, and you want to tell me a story?
"You don’t have to learn new stories anymore." Le Qing gestured toward the door. "Auntie Wang is here to take care of you. You can listen to all kinds of stories—you don’t have to tell them yourself."
Little Le Jia looked even more wounded. "Don’t you like it?"
"I—" Le Qing’s fingers tingled slightly. "Of course I do."
Only then did Little Le Jia’s eyes brighten. He scooted closer. "I like helping you sleep."
Le Qing naturally assumed this was just the children wanting someone to play with. "Did you tell Auntie Wang? Maybe you should help her sleep instead?"
"Why?" Little Le'an clung to her arm. "Auntie needs help. Auntie Wang doesn’t."
Little Le Jia nodded in agreement.
"An-an and Gege want to be with Auntie."
Wait—isn’t this just about wanting someone to play with?
Before Le Qing could process it, Little Le Jia had already settled in and started telling his story.
She had no choice but to lean against the headboard, absentmindedly patting Little Le'an’s back as the child snuggled into her arms.
Just like before, the children weren’t really "helping" her sleep.
They were soothing themselves until they drifted off.
Le Qing swiftly caught Little Le Jia as he tipped forward, carefully laying him down on the bed once his breathing steadied. She then gently pulled the picture book from his hands and set it aside.
It was clear the little one had put real effort into learning how to tell stories. Each time, he’d gesture so enthusiastically that he’d work up a sweat. On today’s page, there were small doodles in the margins.
Le Qing recognized them—they were the children’s abstract renditions of her, something she’d seen before on blank paper and snowmen.
But what made her pause was the tiny heart drawn behind the stick figure. She flipped through the book.
Every story Little Le Jia had ever told had a small drawing of her—and a heart.
Is this… because he thinks I’d like it?
The tingling numbness from earlier, when Little Le'an had been lying on her arm, spread through her again, leaving her dazed. Only when Little Le'an nearly rolled off the bed did she snap back to reality, quickly pulling the child close.
This bed was barely big enough for her alone. With two extra kids, it was anyone’s guess who’d end up squishing whom.
Le Qing moved carefully, rising to carry the children back to the master bedroom.
Sister Wang, who had been packing in the living room, approached. "Need help?"
"Could you take Little Le Jia?" Le Qing whispered. "Put him in their room."
"Of course."
By the time Sister Wang returned with the boy, Le Qing had already tucked Little Le'an in. "Put him on the other side."
Perhaps stirred by the movement—or maybe just hearing her voice—Little Le'an blinked sleepily and nuzzled against her. In a drowsy, milky voice, she murmured, "Auntie~"
"I’m here."
Only then did Little Le'an relax. "Auntie, don’t be scared."
Le Qing didn’t quite understand but softly reassured her, "I’m not scared."
Little Le'an’s eyes fluttered shut again, her voice growing faint, as if unsettled. "We’re… family."
Le Qing stayed hunched over, frozen for several seconds.
Sister Wang watched as Le Qing’s movements remained gentle, her voice soft and soothing—a stark contrast to the somewhat aloof woman she had seen during the day.
"Miss Le Qing, should I turn off all the lights?"
"Leave a nightlight on." Le Qing straightened and gestured for her to leave the room.
The two walked out together, leaving the door slightly ajar rather than fully closed.
"Children are at home," Le Qing turned back and gave her an apologetic smile. "So at night, we can't shut our bedroom door too tightly. I worry I might not hear if something happens with them."
"I understand," Sister Wang nodded. "This is all part of my responsibilities. You should rest early too."
"Mhm." Le Qing glanced at the neatly arranged little items in the living room. "You've worked hard as well. Get some sleep soon."
"It's my job."
After Le Qing returned to her room and softly closed the door, Sister Wang tidied up the living room before heading back to her own room to report to her employer: "President Jiang, so far, the two children remain very attached to Miss Le Qing."
Jiang Suizhi hadn't slept yet—his rest had always been poor. Seeing this message, he opened a document and added another plus sign next to Le Qing's page.
Meanwhile, lying in her own room, Le Qing stared at the darkened ceiling once more. The restless, floating fragments of her heart seemed to settle somewhat, and she soon drifted off to sleep.
—
Having a nanny at home was something Le Qing hadn't quite adjusted to yet, so she even forgot to turn off her alarm. The next morning, she woke up at her usual time.
Stepping out, she was momentarily dazed to see Sister Wang already preparing breakfast. Sitting on the sofa, she found herself at a loss for what to do.
That was, until Sister Wang emerged from the room, leading two teary-eyed little ones with a helpless expression.
"Miss Le Qing, the children refuse to wash up unless they see you first."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than the two little projectiles launched themselves into Le Qing's arms. "Auntie!"
"What's wrong?"
The kids had woken up to find a stranger standing in their room. Though they'd started warming up to the new nanny, in that moment, they completely forgot who she was, panicking and searching for someone they trusted.
Luckily, Auntie was still here today!
Little Le'an's fluffy hair tickled Le Qing's arm as she nuzzled against her. "See Auntie~"
For the first time, Le Qing realized just how clingy these two were. "I'm here. Go wash up now."
"Auntie won't leave?"
"No, I won't."
Only then did Sister Wang manage to guide the two little ones back to the bathroom.
With nothing else to do, Le Qing walked into the kitchen and finished arranging the breakfast that hadn't been fully set up yet, bringing it out to the table.
Sister Wang hurried over when she saw this. "You shouldn't trouble yourself with these things."
"It's no trouble," Le Qing said, setting the bowls and chopsticks in place. "Please don't feel too tense around me. I'm not some delicate, high-maintenance person. I can handle many things myself, so you won't be too busy either."
Sister Wang sighed inwardly.
She wasn't busy at all—after all, she was being paid double.
She couldn't fathom what these wealthy people were thinking. In her eyes, Miss Le Qing had a wonderful personality—no airs, very approachable. Why did President Jiang insist on keeping such a close watch on her?
After breakfast, it was time to pack up and head to the film set.
During this break from work, Le Qing planned to accompany the children, so after discussing with the production team, she decided to pay extra to upgrade the hotel arrangement for the kids to a two-bedroom suite.
Her plan was simple: Sister Wang would share a room with the two little ones, while she took the other.
It was better for everyone.
When she arrived with her suitcase in tow, the children were huddled excitedly by the wall, waving their arms in delight.
"What's going on?"
"We're doing their daily health check," Sister Wang turned and smiled. "They're very interested in their height."
This was something Le Qing had never thought to do. She moved closer and saw that Sister Wang had stuck a height chart on the wall—a paper one where marks could be made. Two small lines, one pink and one blue, indicated the children's current heights.
Though they were fraternal twins, the brother was just a tiny bit taller than his sister.
The brother was basking in his triumph, while the sister stood on tiptoe, trying to close the gap.
She dashed to the entryway and slipped on her tiny shoes. "Auntie, An'an wants to measure again!"
"No cheating," Little Le Jia, reveling in his height advantage, looked down at her. "If you wear shoes, I'll wear shoes too."
But Little Le'an refused to accept this reality. Something had to be wrong. Her round eyes fixed on her brother accusingly. "Did Gege eat secretly?"
"You're the one who ate extra!" Little Le Jia exposed her. "Yesterday, you had half a bowl more!"
"Eating more and still not growing taller? Shame, shame!"
Little Le'an bristled. "Don't watch me eat anymore!"
"What's wrong with eating an extra half bowl?" Le Qing caught the oddity in their words. "You should eat as much as you need."
Instantly, the two squabbling siblings clapped their hands over their mouths, terrified of slipping up.
Le Qing gently pulled her sister's hand away. "Are you going to be a lying child?"
"No," Little Le'an shook her head, her little face scrunched in distress. "But An'an wants Auntie to carry her~"
"What does that have to do with eating?"
"Eat more, get chubby," Little Le'an pinched her own tiny belly. "Auntie can't carry me then."
"..."
Le Qing didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "So you and Gege made a pact not to eat?"
"We eat!" Little Le'an corrected. "Just... a little less."
"That won't do." After all the effort Le Qing had put into helping them gain healthy weight, letting them slim down now would undo everything.
"You have to eat until you're full at every meal, understand?"
Little Le'an pouted. "Then will Auntie carry me?"
Le Qing sighed in resignation. "Yes, I will."
Yay!
She could eat her fill and still get carried~
The little girl immediately leaped into her aunt's arms. Le Qing, who had been crouching during their "talk," wasn't prepared and toppled backward onto the floor. As the little one's soft hair brushed against her face, she didn't even realize how tender her own smile had become.
After the snuggle session, both children pulled their aunt over to the wall. "Auntie measure tall too!"
"I'm an adult," Le Qing protested as they pinned her in place. "Adults don't grow taller."
"They do!"
The children were adamant. "Auntie eats full full, then will!"
But they were too short to see how tall their aunt was, let alone mark it.
In the end, Sister Wang stepped forward and drew a line. "Let me."
The height chart, designed for children, didn't even reach Le Qing's adult stature. Her mark stood prominently at the very top, far beyond the twins' reach.
"Will Auntie be as tall as the sky one day?"
"Eating will make it happen!"
"But Auntie eats and doesn't get a tummy!"
"Grow tall first!"
"Auntie, measure with us every day, okay?"
As the two little ones chattered excitedly about the height difference, Le Qing found herself staring blankly at the line representing her own height.
Things she never had as a child—
Candy. Bedtime stories. Height marks on the wall.
Somehow, in another time and place, they were being given to her in ways she'd never imagined.
"Let's go! Auntie, carry me~"
Now free from weight concerns, the two little ones were eagerly stretching out their arms, hoping their aunt would carry them one in each arm like she used to.
Le Qing's lingering sentimentality was quickly overshadowed by deep worry.
She really might need to start working out.
Fortunately, since they had to pull their suitcases, the two toddlers didn’t insist on making their aunt carry them. Instead, they happily perched on top of the luggage, thoroughly delighted.
They were overjoyed that their aunt was accompanying them to the filming set!
Upon arriving, the group first checked into the hotel. There wasn’t much to unpack since everything they needed was already provided.
However, on the first day, they had to visit the set to take promotional photos with the main cast for future publicity.
Le Qing sent the itinerary to Sister Wang as a backup plan. She had never worked as an assistant before and worried she might not be meticulous enough.
Upon receiving the schedule, Sister Wang felt a pang of guilt and promptly forwarded it to another boss.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was acting like a double agent.
The set was bustling with activity. The filming area was set up separately outdoors, but makeup and breaks were shared with the main cast.
The two child actors hadn’t yet reached the status of having their own private dressing rooms.
But the little ones were thrilled. They rarely had the chance to interact with so many people, and everyone here was incredibly friendly.
So when Le Qing finished talking with the staff, she found her extroverted nephew already holding his shy niece’s hand, having toured the entire crew and greeted every single person.
"..."
This was practically a young CEO building his network from childhood.
The highlight was that they weren’t just networking for themselves—they were doing it for their aunt too: "This is Uncle Changju, Auntie can ask him for water!"
The assistant on set: "..."
Le Qing laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, my kids are... a bit lively."
"Haha, they’re adorable!" The assistant waved it off. "Kids who communicate proactively are great."
But perhaps a little too proactive.
For the first time, Little Le Jia had so many people to talk to, and his chatter didn’t stop—especially after his sister had confirmed that every single one of them was nice.
By the time makeup and costume changes were done, he had already moved on to discussing parenting tips.
"I know," Little Le Jia said, keeping his eyes shut as the makeup artist worked. "What kids like, my aunt likes too."
"That’s right," Little Le An chimed in. "Auntie doesn’t sleep well, so my brother and I tell her stories to help."
Sitting behind them under the amused gazes of the crew, Le Qing squirmed in her seat, lifting the kids’ water bottles to hide her flushed face.
But the makeup artist wasn’t about to let her off the hook. They were all active online and knew these kids had gained quite a following. Plus, Le Qing had recently collaborated with the renowned photographer Lin Jian, which likely meant she’d be entering the industry soon.
Now was the perfect time to build connections—who knew when they’d get another chance?
Especially the bold, idle members of the main cast.
"Oh?" Cui Shuo, lounging with his legs crossed, teased, "Your aunt’s that hard to take care of?"
"Not hard!" Little Le Jia, oblivious to his aunt’s embarrassment, replied. "Auntie’s good. She doesn’t cry like my sister. She just doesn’t like studying."
The allegedly study-averse aunt: "?"
She couldn’t even figure out where this came from. "Why don’t I like studying?"
The siblings shared a telepathic moment. Little Le An sighed dramatically. "Auntie doesn’t learn for herself."
"I don’t learn for myself?" Le Qing found herself parroting their phrasing.
"Big brother buys snacks and toys," Little Le An waved her tiny hands. "Auntie says she likes them!"
"But Auntie doesn’t buy toys for herself."
"Auntie doesn’t say she likes toys," Little Le An explained. "Auntie only makes me and brother study."
"Ah, I get it," Cui Shuo laughed. "What they mean is, you don’t indulge in things you like—you only make them do it."
"You just don’t understand," the makeup artist cut in. "Your aunt doesn’t like toys. She probably prefers makeup, clothes, bags, shoes—you kids wouldn’t know about that."
"We do know!"
The two toddlers knew all too well.
Their old, mean aunt used to buy lots of bags and clothes.
Back then, the siblings had been envious—they wanted new clothes too. But that aunt would just snap, "Be grateful you’re even fed."
But their current aunt didn’t buy those things.
Little Le Jia said worriedly, "Auntie only buys things for me and my sister."
All the pretty bags and clothes were sold to other aunties.
"That’s right!" Little Le An nodded vigorously. "Auntie’s clothes have holes. Big brother and I bought new clothes for her!"
Though, admittedly, their aunt had yet to wear that particular outfit.
She must be saving it for a special occasion!
"Aren’t you in the fashion industry?" Cui Shuo turned to Le Qing, surprised. "Shouldn’t you care more about these things?"
"Not everyone does," Le Qing thought to herself—she couldn’t afford that lifestyle anyway.
She joked, "I’m in the ‘practical’ circle."
As for the clothes the kids mentioned, she felt she had to explain before being labeled ungrateful.
Driven by an inexplicable competitive streak, she pulled out her phone and showed a photo she’d taken that day. "Well, the outfit they gave me... looked like this."
Cui Shuo leaned in, took one glance, and burst into uncontrollable laughter, completely abandoning his image.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA—did you two ever ask why your aunt never wore it? Who even suggested buying something like this?"
The toddlers blinked in confusion. "Isn’t it nice?"
"All I know is, whoever picked it must really dislike your aunt."
An arrow struck an unseen party—the system yelled, "He’s lying! Sowing discord!"
"Don’t be mad, Uncle," Little Le Jia calmly reassured the system. "We picked it together!"
"Yeah, we did!"
The system, though guilty, stood its ground.
It would never admit that it had given just the tiniest suggestion—purely because it felt a little unbalanced seeing the kids suddenly so fond of that woman.
Just a tiny nudge! The kids had loved it, hadn’t they?
It had even incorporated their preferences! A win-win!
"Auntie put the clothes in a pretty box!" Little Le Jia blinked his big eyes. "Doesn’t Auntie like it?"
If she didn’t, why would she keep it so carefully and even take a photo?
He and his sister only took pictures of things they really liked.
"I do like it," Le Qing smiled softly, unable to resist the infectious laughter around her. "I like it very much. I was showing it off."
At that, the two little ones beamed, their imaginary tails wagging furiously.
Cui Shuo gave Le Qing an impressed thumbs-up—she was clearly a pro at handling kids.
Keeping a straight face, Le Qing pocketed her phone. As the screen darkened, she caught a glimpse of her own smiling reflection. Her thumb brushed lightly over the image.
This version of herself felt unfamiliar—one she rarely saw.
She never cared much about others' opinions of her, but seeing the two little ones chatting so happily with everyone—and including her in the conversation—made her feel a flicker of longing.
At that moment, she wanted to say something, as if only then would others realize how close she was to the children.
For the first time in so many years, impulse overpowered reason. Before she could even reach a clear decision, the gift she had kept sealed away, known only to herself, was suddenly revealed.
And in that instant, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders, relieved that someone could finally share a fraction of the joy she had felt back then.
Sure enough, everyone seemed delighted.
So was she.
Just as the atmosphere grew warm and lively, the director’s assistant rushed over. "Director Tan, the photographer got into a minor accident on the way here. They might have to delay. Their studio said we could find another photographer, and they’ll handle the contract breach."
Director Tan frowned. "Is he okay?"
"His hand was injured."
"Of all times..." Director Tan sighed.
The year-end schedule was already tight—otherwise, he wouldn’t have rushed Le Qing and the kids into the production so quickly.
He quickly devised a solution. "Contact our usual partner studios first. See if any of them can spare someone on short notice?"
With the Spring Festival season approaching, countless films and TV shows were scrambling to meet deadlines. Every studio was swamped with promotional shoots and other projects. Squeezing in another job would be tough, but they had to try.
Le Qing, sitting nearby, perked up at the conversation.
When it came to opportunities, she wasn’t one to sit back—especially now, when she was seizing every chance to earn.
She stood up and asked proactively, "Director Tan, are you short a photographer?"
Recalling her past collaboration with Lin Jian, Director Tan assumed she had connections. He nodded eagerly. "Yes, do you know someone reliable?"
"What about me?"
"You?" Cui Shuo uncrossed his legs and gave her a once-over. "Aren’t you the one being photographed?"
"I’ve done my share behind the camera too. Can’t hurt to have extra skills." Le Qing pulled up photos she’d taken while reselling designer clothes and bags, along with polished shots from parties she’d captured for Yu Shuqi and others. "Would these work?"
Having worked with celebrity photographers before, she’d picked up their techniques and attention to detail.
"I know the workflow, and I can handle post-production too," Le Qing listed her strengths. "Plus, I’m already here with the kids. I can shoot behind-the-scenes content on demand—if the volume isn’t too high, I can edit on the spot and deliver same-day."
In other words, she could do the job of several people.
And she was already on set.
Director Tan scrolled through her portfolio, surprised by her skill.
He usually stuck to trusted studios because they understood his vision—unlike assembly-line operations that churned out generic work.
But Le Qing’s photos had a knack for highlighting the subject’s unique style, capturing their essence.
"Is this a model’s natural talent?" Director Tan handed back her phone. "You know what people want."
Reading his expression, Le Qing sensed openness rather than rejection. She smiled. "So, can I take that as a yes?"
"What’s your rate?"
"Eighty percent of the original contract. How does that sound?"
"Doing multiple jobs for eighty percent?"
"I’m just lucky to stumble into this opportunity." Le Qing was adaptable. "And since it’s your production, consider the twenty percent my marketing fee. If you’re happy with the results, maybe recommend me to others later."
Director Tan was impressed. She knew how to sell herself without underselling, struck the right balance, and flattered without being obnoxious.
"Model, photographer, editor—all in one." Cui Shuo teased. "You’re keeping busy."
Le Qing chuckled. "If there’s anything else I can do, I’m game. I’m not picky."
She felt capable of handling many tasks on set.
And this was a golden chance—big productions like this worked with top-tier studios, meaning high fees. Even at eighty percent, it was a lucrative deal.
With the kids looked after by the nanny, she had plenty of free time on set. Might as well make the most of it.
"Maybe be a little picky." Cui Shuo pointed at her face. "With looks like yours, you’d be stealing lead roles from me next."
Le Qing knew he was joking and shook her head lightly. "I can’t act."
"Thank goodness for that." Cui Shuo grinned. "A talent like me versus a face like yours? That’d be one unfair competition."
"Enough nonsense." Director Tan clapped him on the shoulder and turned to Le Qing. "Need to fetch your gear, or will ours do?"
The crew had backup cameras, of course.
After a brief thought, Le Qing opted for efficiency. "If it’s urgent, let’s use yours today. I’ll bring mine tomorrow after wrapping up."
Director Tan was pleased. "Good. Take some time to adjust the lens and get a feel for it. I’ll have the assistant draft a contract."
The two little ones gazed up at their aunt, eyes brimming with admiration.
Little Le Jia asked System Uncle, "Do the uncles and aunties like Auntie?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Me and my sister—we need others to like us to get things." Little Le Jia said. "But Auntie earned it herself."
That meant Auntie had won their affection on her own.
Little Le Jia wondered, "Does Auntie have an uncle too?"
An innocent question, but it struck a chord.
System glanced at Le Qing—once a carefree, materialistic idler, now seizing opportunities and proving her worth. Its data whirred rapidly.
It wasn’t impossible. Or perhaps there was more to it.
Meanwhile, Lan Qian’s manager arrived with Lan Xu in tow, whispering instructions. "Stay put today. If the crew needs help, step up."
Little Lan Xu nodded quietly, his gaze drifting toward two exceptionally beautiful children. He’d acted in many shows but had never seen kids this striking. He couldn’t help staring.
The two were surrounded by a group, laughing brightly about something. He longed to hear what they were saying.
Lan Qian’s manager noticed and warned under her breath, "Remember what your mom said? Stay away from them."
Mom’s warning? Wasn’t it about those two red-clad siblings?
So it was them!
But Lan Xu’s eyes dimmed almost instantly.
He was about to find a small corner to sit down when the two exceptionally adorable younger siblings in his line of sight suddenly looked his way.
Little Le Jia and Little Le'an, who were in high spirits today, were eager to make friends—especially with familiar faces their own age. They hopped down from their chairs and ran over to the older boy who had once shared cookies with them.
"Hello!" Little Le Jia extended his hand. "We meet again! I'm Le Jia, the older brother, and this is my little sister, Le'an."
Lan Xu felt a slight tug from his agent, Sister Wang. He pressed his lips together, hesitating under the curious gazes and outstretched hands of the two children.
"Hmm?" Little Le Jia, still too young to fully grasp the situation, offered an earnest explanation. "I didn’t bring any cookies today—don’t be scared!"
"..." Lan Xu's nervousness eased slightly, though it wasn’t because of the cookies. Remembering his younger brother’s advice—that he should learn to say what he didn’t like—he finally mustered the courage to quietly pull away from Sister Wang’s grip. "Hello, my name is Lan Xu."
Little Le'an noticed the bowtie at the collar of his shirt and gasped in admiration. "Your outfit is so pretty!"
Flustered by the compliment from the sweet little girl, Lan Xu blushed and tried to return the kindness. But the more he struggled to speak, the more his words tangled. After a long pause, he managed to stammer, "You two are also very pretty... without monkey butts."
The other two children blinked in confusion, instinctively reaching back to touch their own bottoms.
