Chapter 93 – Film Emperor (13)

As he passed a pedestrian street, Zai Ye was just thinking about the route to the Moonlight of the Southern Dynasty film crew when his gaze swept across the area and suddenly froze.

At the entrance of the pedestrian street stood a child wearing a knitted dress and a small round hat.

She was being led by a young woman, turning her head to eye a nearby stall selling fried chicken skewers.

The child pointed at the chicken skewers, and the woman looked troubled. The child pouted, clearly on the verge of tears. In the end, with no other choice, the woman bought a portion.

The two of them sat on a bench nearby to eat. The woman gave the child a skewer first. While the child was gnawing on it, the woman took large bites herself, quickly wolfing down five or six skewers.

Having only nibbled on half of one, the child suddenly panicked. She stuffed the rest of her skewer into her mouth, grabbed the woman’s hand that was still eating, and leaned in for more.

The woman, squished by the child’s head, found it amusing and deliberately ate two more at once.

The child’s cheeks puffed up like a squirrel. Seeing only two or three skewers left, she kicked her legs furiously on the bench—like a hamster on a running wheel.

Standing a short distance away, hands in pockets, Zai Ye was dazed. He didn’t know if all kids were like that, but his daughter had been exactly the same.

If you bought something for Qian to eat, and your relationship with her was good, she’d share it with you. But if you started eating her food without asking, she’d get flustered and start snatching it back, stuffing her mouth full.

Back when Zai Ye was in his early twenties, his appetite was huge—like a bottomless pit. Whenever he and the kid shared food, he’d finish his own portion and move on to hers, thinking kids couldn’t eat much anyway.

But whenever he did that, Qian would get anxious and start eating faster.

The upside was that she wasn’t picky and didn’t need to be coaxed to eat like other kids. As long as she was eating with her dad, she stayed on track.

Because if she didn’t eat quickly, her dad really would steal her food.

Even if it was something she didn’t like, once Dad started eating it, Qian would still gobble it down.

Zai Ye remembered when Qian was about three or four, and they had corn and pumpkin soup once.

He teased her on purpose—finished his big bowl, then pretended to go after hers, saying, “You’re not drinking this? I’ll help you finish.”

The kid twisted around, pulled her bowl back, and chugged half of it.

It was a generous portion—most adults would struggle to finish it, let alone a small child.

Zai Ye found it funny and tried to stop her. “It’s fine if you can’t finish, I’ll help you.”

That only made it worse. The kid, stubborn to a fault, insisted on finishing the whole thing. Her belly was round and tight when he picked her up—so full it startled him.

And sure enough, the moment he got her off the chair, she threw up from being overstuffed. He panicked and rushed to buy her digestive tablets.

Ever since then, every time he remembered it, he’d bring it up again. Qian, both embarrassed and annoyed, would get into a huff and storm off to eat in her room. But he’d still keep talking about it…

It’s probably a parent thing—unable to forget their child’s embarrassing moments, and always itching to bring them up.

Right now, looking at the little girl not far away—her face different from his daughter’s, but her expressions and gestures so similar—Zai Ye felt rooted to the spot.

After the car accident, he had lost his beloved daughter. When he woke up in the hospital, she was already gone.

He had told Xu-ge that he had dreamed of Qian while in the emergency room. In the dream, she said goodbye to him at home, saying she would return in the future.

Xu-ge couldn’t bring himself to say anything—just told him not to be too sad.

Of course, no one believed it. They all thought he was just too grief-stricken to accept the truth.

But he believed it.

Qian finished her chicken skewers, still looking unsatisfied, and urged her assistant Tian Miao to buy more snacks.

Tian Miao sighed. “Oh no, I didn’t bring any money—used the last of it on that.”

These days, Tian Miao had mastered the art of playing dumb around both the film emperor and the kid. A true double agent, able to handle both sides.

Qian didn’t buy it. She pointed out, “You can pay with your phone!”

Tian Miao was prepared. She opened her mobile wallet and showed Qian her balance—one account had 1.7 yuan, the other 2.3 yuan.

She cried out miserably, “Big sis is broke. I can’t even afford meals anymore!”

Qian looked at her expression, then at the numbers on the screen.

Tian Miao thought she had managed to bluff her way through. But then Qian pulled a 100-yuan note from her pocket and handed it over.

“Use this to buy snacks.”

Tian Miao: “Huh? Where did you get this?”

Who the hell gave a kid this much money?! The boss had told her not to let the kid eat too many snacks, so she’d deliberately left her money at home. Since Qian was smart and could check her balance, she even transferred everything into her bank account.

Qian answered, “Daddy gave it to me.”

Tian Miao: “…”

Boss, this one’s not on me.

To keep the kid from overindulging, Tian Miao had to pull out all the stops. She spotted a nearby toy stall and tried to distract her.

“Look, this balloon is so cute! Let’s buy two, okay?”

They bought two, one each.

The balloons were shaped like translucent pigs, with a pink pig balloon inside and shiny confetti and white velvet fluff in between. Shaking the balloon stick made a soft rustling sound.

Now they had 50 yuan left.

“Wow, Qian, look! They’ve got ring toss games over there. Do you want to try?”

Tian Miao thought: Once she spends the rest of the money on that, no more snacks for her!

Sure enough, Qian fell for it.

Seeing a little kid come over, the vendor beamed and pulled out a few small toys, placing them a bit closer.

“Come on, little one, you can toss rings at this row.”

But Qian didn’t live up to his goodwill. She threw the rings and didn’t hit a single toy.

Three in a row—landed right at her feet.

Despite her poor aim, she still looked very serious—slightly squatting down, then springing up and flinging the ring out dramatically.

The vendor and surrounding pedestrians were all laughing in amusement.

Tian Miao, who had suggested playing the ring toss to trick the kid out of her pocket money, started to get anxious as she watched the child miss again and again. She was practically itching to just take the rings and throw them for her.

“Qian, you can’t throw like that! Don’t toss it forward—swing it out!”

The child threw another ring. This one rolled upright into the pile of toys, even spun in a circle, then rolled all the way back to her feet.

Tian Miao finally couldn’t take it. “Here, let me throw one for you!”

If the kid really couldn’t get a single one, she was worried she might cry.

Qian crouched beside her, watching the assistant-jie focus intently on the ring toss. A shout came from behind, and as she turned her head, she didn’t notice the shouting passerby—instead, her eyes landed on a man dressed in black under a streetlamp not far away.

Zaiye, who had been following behind them the whole way, noticed the child looking his way. Instinctively, he pulled down his hat and shifted his gaze toward a nearby trash can.

After making such an obviously guilty-looking move, Zaiye silently cursed himself.

Why did he make himself look like some shady stalker?

But when he hesitated and looked back again, he suddenly realized—the crouching child had vanished.

Zaiye: “!”

Just then, he felt a tug on his pant leg.

Looking down, he saw the little girl standing beside him with a balloon in her hand.

When their eyes met, Qian gave him a big smile.

In that moment, as Zaiye looked at the child’s upturned face, it almost felt like she was about to call him “Daddy.”

Just like that other child who had suddenly appeared once and called him “Dad.”

If she really called him that, he could take her home.

“You…” Zaiye didn’t know what to say.

But the child had already skillfully wrapped her arms around his leg.

Zaiye: “…”

This feeling was all too familiar. When he used to take Qian out, and she couldn’t walk anymore, she would cling to his leg just like this—her way of saying “Carry me.”

Almost by reflex, Zaiye picked her up.

Sitting in his arms, Qian laughed with joy, thumped the balloon against his head, and let out a series of giggles.

She even happily swayed from side to side.

That small body in his arms—it was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in so long. Thirty-year-old Zaiye suddenly felt a sting behind his eyes.

It was like being transported back to that one moment in the past, when his daughter was still alive, and he took her out to play. He held her like this, and she wriggled around in his arms, never content to sit still.

“…Qian.” He uttered the name he hadn’t spoken in so long.

“Mm!” the child responded.

She responded.

Zaiye’s throat felt choked up.

“Qian?”

Meanwhile, Tian Miao, focused on the ring toss, finally realized the child next to her was gone. She panicked and completely forgot about the game.

Looking around frantically, she spotted a strange, suspicious-looking man holding Qian not far away. A thousand terrible possibilities flashed through her mind, and her voice cracked with fear.

“Qian! Who are you? Let go of my kid!”

She rushed over in a flash and yanked Qian back into her arms, standing protectively in front of her.

Zaiye didn’t want to let go, but after Tian Miao’s shout, people around them began to stare, full of suspicion, like they were looking at some child kidnapper.

He had no choice but to release her and let the kid be taken back.

“I know her,” Zaiye had to speak up, his voice hoarse. “I met Qian and the Film Emperor Tong at Cloud Restaurant before.”

Only then did the wariness on Tian Miao’s face ease a bit, and she became slightly more polite.

If he really knew her boss, it would be bad to offend him.

“Qian, do you know this uncle?” Tian Miao asked the child.

Qian broke free from her and hugged Zaiye’s leg again, nodding her head.

Seeing this, Tian Miao quickly smiled. “Sorry about that, I got too nervous. You know Film Emperor Tong, right? Are you here to visit the set? I was just about to take the child back—you can come with us if you like.”

Zaiye had no objections. He was planning to go anyway.

Tian Miao had no idea who he really was, but Qian seemed to like him a lot—she didn’t want to be held by her, only by this scary-looking uncle.

She overheard their conversation:

“Where did your hair go?” the child asked.

“It’s just cut short, not gone,” the man replied.

“I want a grilled sausage. Buy me one.”

“…Why should I buy you a grilled sausage?”

“I want yogurt?”

“Where am I supposed to find yogurt at this hour?”

Tian Miao saw Qian pout, but surprisingly, she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she handed over the balloon in her hand.

“Look, it’s a piggy balloon. For you.”

The man took it in one hand. “Why are you giving this to me?”

The child blinked. “It’s not for you. I just want you to hold it for me.”

Tian Miao saw the complex expression on the man’s face shift—from moved to cold.

He shoved the balloon back into the child’s hand. “So lazy. Carry it yourself.”