Chapter 85: Film Emperor (5)

“This kid really might’ve popped out of a crack in a rock. We’ve been investigating for days and still can’t find out where she came from. I mean, she looks so much like you, and you’ve been famous for years—yet not a single photo of her has ever surfaced online. How’s that even possible?”

“If her mother really left her here hoping for child support, she’d at least have tried to contact you, right? But no one’s reached out.”

“You haven’t, like, donated sperm before, have you? What if she’s some kind of clone from a lab? Or an alien!”

Feng Yu leaned against the kitchen doorway, her theories getting more and more absurd.

Lately, the dark circles under her eyes were so heavy that even the most luxurious cosmetics couldn’t cover them.

“If we can’t find any past information, fine. Let’s just get Qian’s ID paperwork sorted out and take her to the hospital for a checkup soon,” Tong Jianxu said as he threw scallions, ginger, and garlic into the pot and slammed on the lid.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t know the kind of dreams I’ve been having—‘Film Emperor Tong’s Secret Love Child Tops Trending!’ I’ve been dreaming about taking down trending posts all night. Director Fang drops you from his drama, crazed stalker fans accusing you of faking your single-guy persona to win their hearts and threatening to douse you in gasoline…”

Seeing Tong Jianxu completely unfazed, eyes fixed only on the recipe on his phone, Feng Yu changed tack.

“You’ve been messing with this fish soup for three days and still haven’t made anything decent. If you really want fish soup, let me just buy some from Shengshi Feast for you, okay?” the manager muttered, thinking that even if he didn’t feel bad for the fish that died in vain, he should at least spare those pampered hands that cost a fortune to maintain.

“No, it’s just… I really liked the fish soup my grandma used to make. She taught me once. I wanted to try making it for Qian. But no matter how I make it, it never tastes the same.”

Tong Jianxu remembered how every time his grandfather scolded or berated him for no reason, his grandmother would always make fish soup for him afterward.

Compared to his grandfather—who thought he was shamefully unmanly, forbade him from going outside, and thought he was an embarrassment—his grandmother had always been much kinder. Even though she too thought his deformed body was a curse, a punishment for some great sin in a past life, and often cried while holding him, at least she’d still shown him affection.

Now that both grandparents had passed away years ago, those painful memories from childhood, adolescence, even early adulthood, had slowly sunk to the depths of his mind. Only once in a while would the bitterness resurface. Instead, it was those few rare moments of warmth and love that he kept recalling more and more.

He set the fish soup, filled with paternal affection, on the table. Qian took a sip under the hopeful gaze of her movie star dad.

“Well? How is it?”

Qian looked at the whole plate of fish in front of her and said, “Let’s release it back into the wild.”

Tong Jianxu: “…Qian, where would you release a dead fish to?”

The child honestly pointed to the trash can.

For a moment, he couldn’t tell if she was being tactful or brutally honest.

“Daddy worked really hard to make this fish soup. It’s actually not that bad. Why don’t you try a few more sips?”

Qian’s eyes shifted as she scooped up some soup and held the spoon to his mouth. “Daddy drink!”

That sweet baby voice could melt steel. Tong Jianxu obediently drank two sips—only to realize she was dodging the bullet herself and firmly refused a third.

“Qian, you drink some. Let’s just take two more sips, okay? To show some respect to this poor fish.”

“…Okay.” The kid obediently took two sips, even spooning up a small piece of fish meat from the bottom.

But as soon as she put the spoon down, she made a pained face, tilting her head back and letting out soft groans.

“What’s wrong?”

Tong Jianxu didn’t know what was going on, but Feng Yu, who had just come back from the restroom, noticed something was off and guessed, “Could it be a fishbone stuck in her throat?”

Then came the chaos.

They had her drink water, swallow rice, even took a couple sips of vinegar, but nothing worked.

Mouth open, tears welling up, Qian started crying in discomfort.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! Daddy’s taking you to the hospital now!” Tong Jianxu, completely at a loss, scooped her up and rushed out.

Feng Yu chased behind him, shouting, “Put on a hat and mask!”

They finally reached the hospital. After the doctor removed the fishbone and said she was fine, Tong Jianxu could finally relax. He pulled his red-faced daughter into his arms.

“It’s Daddy’s fault. I won’t ever make you drink fish soup again.”

The kid, worn out from the ordeal, was startled to see her new dad’s eyes turning red with tears. She quickly cupped his eyes with her tiny hands, as if that could stop the tears from falling.

With his eyes covered like that, Tong Jianxu actually started laughing.

He buried his head against her tiny, thin body.

“If Daddy ever does something wrong, you can tell me. But don’t hate Daddy, okay?”

Qian was like a cat being forcibly cuddled, tilting her head back and softly whining.

Feng Yu came back with the medicine, and couldn’t help muttering under her breath, “How old are you? Quit being such a baby in front of the kid! Come on, let’s go home already. What if someone saw you running out like that? We’re not ready to go public yet!”

But of course, if anything bad could happen, it would.

That very day, the internet exploded with news about Film Emperor Tong and a daughter.

It wasn’t even a gossip blog or a paparazzi site—just a random fan in the hospital who thought Qian looked like Tong Jianxu, took a picture, and shared it online saying, “Saw a kid with a celebrity face today, lol.”

Netizens, sharp-eyed as ever, quickly pointed out that the man in a hat and mask holding the kid looked suspiciously like Film Emperor Tong Jianxu.

Tong Jianxu, spotted in the hospital holding a child who looked just like him!

The post blew up instantly. It got reposted everywhere. Gossip sites caught wind and jumped on the bandwagon, spreading wild guesses (and rumors).

Fans and netizens dissected the guy’s build, hairstyle, clothes, shoes, hands, and even blurry eyes to confirm it was really him. As further proof, another photo included someone who looked like his manager, Feng Yu.

“Fuck. The news is spreading so fast—Jiang Jin must be behind this, stirring shit. He’s still knee-deep in his own cheating scandal and wants to use your story to draw attention away. Damn it, we were planning to wait for the right time to go public, and now this blows up outta nowhere and helps that bastard take the heat!” Feng Yu cursed furiously.

“Someone actually said I cheated during marriage and had a child with you? If that were true, it’d actually be easier to explain!”

A shady marketing account posted a story starting with a random photo, but fans quickly called them out. After all, Feng Yu had been active in public in recent years, and fans could dig up old photos to analyze if she ever had time to be pregnant.

Once the manager was ruled out, the speculation only increased. Fans tried to explain, and even people from the company came to inquire.

As a shareholder of Shengguang Entertainment, no one dared to question Tong Jianxu. And with a responsible manager handling things up front, he, the person at the center of it all, seemed completely idle.

He didn’t bother looking at the online storm and stayed on the third floor watching a movie with the child.

Once in a while, he’d get messages from the manager.

Tong Jianxu replied: “Since it’s out, we might as well admit it. Just say I did secretly get married and have a kid, and that my partner is someone outside the industry. Don’t say too much. Just admit it and let them say whatever they want.”

Tong Jianxu hadn’t had a smooth ride since his debut.

Years ago, when he got cast by a top director, there were rumors he was being kept, having some murky relationship with the director, and so on.

Not to mention all the other gossip about ambiguous ties with female celebrities.

Feng Yu said, “Honestly, you’re innocent. Why not just tell the truth? You don’t even know how this kid came to be.”

Tong Jianxu replied, “No, if we go with my version, they’ll only care about when I got married and had a kid, and who the mother is. But if we tell the truth, all the focus will be on the child. They’ll start digging into Qian’s background. She’s still young. That kind of attention isn’t good for her.”

“Besides, if we tell the truth, no one’s going to believe it anyway. They’ll think we’re just making excuses, trying to deflect. Then even more outrageous theories will come out.”

After agreeing with the manager, Tong Jianxu looked over at the child leaning on the wooden coffee table watching TV.

He patted her head.

“Does your throat still hurt?”

“It doesn’t anymore.”

“Wanna have some fruit?”

“Yes!”

Tong Jianxu had bought a super cute set of molds that could cut fruit into little animals, stars, moons, and flowers.

He had a whole bunch of things like that—pumpkin and butterfly-shaped kids’ bowls, cat paw spoons, ice molds for bear and bunny shapes.

While he was cutting fruit, Qian ran to the fridge and pulled out some yogurt.

Ever since she recognized that familiar brand of yogurt, Qian refused to drink anything else. The fridge shelves were fully stocked with it.

She placed the yogurt next to Tong Jianxu and requested, “Put this in the fruit!”

After preparing the fruit for the child, Tong Jianxu poured himself a glass of water and remembered the bear-shaped ice cubes he froze yesterday. He took one out specially.

“Qian, look, little bear.”

He dropped the bear ice cube into his glass and playfully told her, “The little bear is drinking water.”

Qian corrected him: “The little bear is taking a bath.”

“Alright, taking a bath it is.” Tong Jianxu took a sip of the icy water.

Then he heard the child say, “Daddy is drinking the little bear’s bathwater.”

Tong Jianxu: “……” Suddenly the water didn’t taste so good anymore.

“Qian wants to drink the little bear’s bathwater too!” He leaned over and held out the glass as if offering it to her.

The child scrunched her neck, shrugged, and dodged away with a giggle. “I don’t want it!”

In S City’s Liming Building, the headquarters of Wild Games Studio had moved there two years ago.

That afternoon, the company’s CEO Zai Ye had just returned from visiting a friend in Ningshui. When he stepped into the office, he noticed the employees seemed distracted—keyboards clacking away quickly, but peeking at their screens showed they were all chatting. Not one noticed the boss walking behind them.

Zai Ye didn’t say anything and headed straight to the third-floor office of the marketing manager. Before he even opened the door, he heard her loud voice.

“What! My husband has a kid? And she’s three already? How come I didn’t know?”

Zai Ye paused, thinking he might’ve accidentally overheard some deeply private matter of a subordinate.

Then came her next line: “No way! My husband, Film Emperor Tong, has always been single! All his friends are married and he’s still single! I don’t believe it! What, the kid looks like him? How much can a kid really look like someone… Holy crap, she really does! Oh no, I’ve lost my husband again!”

This marketing manager, Gao Jia, had followed him all the way from Ningshui and was a seasoned member of the team. Normally, she was super capable—who knew she had this dramatic side too?

Seeing her still on the phone, Zai Ye knocked on the door and showed a deadpan face, reminding her: “There are a few issues in the marketing proposal you sent me. Come to the meeting later.”

He kept his old habit of holding small meetings with key subordinates. He didn’t like handling things through messages and preferred face-to-face discussions.

Looking at the boss who had grown even more mature—and scarier—over the years, Gao Jia immediately put down her phone and straightened up. “Yes, Boss Zai Ye! I’ll be right there!”

After Zai Ye left, she nervously took out her phone again and stared at the photo her friend had sent.

The candid shot wasn’t very clear, but you could still see that the child Film Emperor Tong was carrying in the hospital hallway had a round, adorable face.

That child suddenly reminded her of another cute little girl.

One who used to call her “big sister,” leave snacks on her desk, offer her yogurt when she had stomach cramps, do homework in the boss’s office, and patrol the company with a cat.

Now that she thought about it, that had been years ago.