Chapter 100: Film Emperor (20)

Zaiye pulled out his long-forgotten work badge from the office drawer, wiped it clean, and hung it around Qian’s neck.

“I have some work to handle. Don’t run off… If you get lost in the building, show this to someone so they can bring you back.”

Qian wore the company boss’s badge, which even had a photo of Zaiye on it. The moment she looked at it, it felt like the unsmiling Zaiye in the photo had glared at her.

After playing with the badge for a while, Qian loitered around her dad’s office. Once she had explored the unfamiliar space inside and out, she quickly got bored, picked up her game phone, and dashed outside.

Zaiye, now focused on his work, wasn’t as vigilant as before. Qian made no sound and, being small, slipped out the door unnoticed.

Qian had watched the old Ning Shui Wild Games office being set up from the start. That early company site was her turf, and she’d seen each employee get hired one by one. She was as familiar with that place as she was with home.

Now, the new Wild Games occupied an entire building, over ten times larger. Each department was on a different floor, and most of the employees were strangers to Qian.

Stepping out of Zaiye’s office, she looked around, tilting her head up curiously.

The passing employees were also staring at her, their expressions oddly excited.

Ding.

The elevator next to her opened, and some employees stepped inside. Qian glanced at them, then followed them in.

The employees in the elevator recoiled in sync — not because the child was scary, but because the boss’s badge she wore was.

“Hello,” Qian looked up and greeted them.

Everyone quickly responded, “Hello! Hello!”

One employee who wasn’t up to speed with internet gossip whispered, “Where’d the kid come from? Is she the boss’s?”

A coworker quietly replied, “No, she’s Assistant Zhang’s! The one that was all over the place a while back — Zhang and Film Emperor Tong’s daughter!”

The other looked even more confused, brows furrowed. “Assistant Zhang’s kid… but why is she wearing the boss’s badge?”

A young woman smiled at Qian and asked, “Sweetie, which floor are you going to?”

“I’ll lift her up so she can press it herself,” another girl eagerly said, scooping Qian up and holding her near the buttons.

Qian pressed one at random and politely added, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank us!” the woman beamed. “Cutie, are you looking for your mom? She’s not on this floor, you know.”

“I’m going to play,” Qian replied.

When she stepped out of the elevator, she found herself facing a bunch of workstations. Many employees were busy at their desks, not noticing her presence.

She walked up behind one of them — a guy with glasses staring intently at his screen, munching on rice crackers.

She approached his cluttered desk and saw another bag of crackers. She stood on tiptoe and reached out.

The guy, hearing the noise, nearly thought he was home and that his cat was trying to paw at his snacks. Turning his head, he saw a child and instantly choked on cracker crumbs.

“I didn’t take any,” Qian withdrew her hand and propped her chin on it, staring at him with her big round eyes.

Guy: “!”

Girl at the next desk: “!” Quick! Give her one!

A kid with the boss’s badge, and the daughter of Assistant Zhang, appearing here instantly caused a stir.

Several people, casual fans of Film Emperor Tong, were so excited they almost set their phones and cameras on fire from excessive tapping.

“Holy shit” echoed in every corner.

A crowd gathered like zombies closing in. It was a bit overwhelming. Holding a cracker in one hand, her cheek dotted with crumbs, Qian stepped back.

Then she waved her chubby hand at the group and repeatedly said, “Bye-bye, bye-bye.”

She turned around and walked into the elevator calmly, heading down.

On the next floor, a man and woman stepped in. Both were stunned to see a kid inside.

The middle-aged man frowned. “Who brought a child into the company and let her run loose?”

The woman reached out to flip the badge on Qian’s chest — revealing Zaiye’s stern face. The man immediately shut up.

Boss’s family — nothing to worry about.

Qian, however, stared at the two of them for a moment, then suddenly hugged the woman’s leg and looked up. “Auntie!”

She recognized this auntie.

Jian Yaqi, the finance department manager, an old member of Wild Games. Back when the company was still in Ning Shui, she was one of the few older employees among the young crowd. Even Zaiye used to call her Sister Jian.

At that time, most of the staff were young and single, and the company had a boss who, in the eyes of outsiders, seemed like a single dad with a mysterious kid.

Jian Yaqi was married with children — her kid was even older than Qian was then. She had always looked out for Qian at the office, checking on her during naps and even bringing soup from home.

Jian had heard the gossip about Assistant Zhang but didn’t follow celebrity news or gossip with the younger crowd, so she never connected the child before her to the rumors. She just assumed Qian was a relative of the boss.

“How did you come down here alone? I’ll take you back upstairs.”

She picked Qian up, and Qian, in turn, handed over her half-eaten rice cracker. “Auntie, have a cracker.”

Jian Yaqi laughed. “Auntie doesn’t want any.”

Qian’s great patrol mission ended there, as Auntie took her back to Zaiye’s office.

Jian, busy with work, dropped Qian off and left. As she exited, she vaguely heard Zaiye scolding inside: “Qian! I look away for one second and you’re gone!”

Hearing that familiar name, Jian paused, then suddenly wiped her eyes.

Qian, excited after seeing someone she recognized, didn’t take Zaiye’s scolding to heart. She placed the half-eaten cracker on his desk and, while he wasn’t paying attention, snuck out again.

This time her wandering caused another small commotion. But since someone had posted in the company chat about how she’d been scared off earlier, everyone was now told to “observe her civilly.” So, no more zombie-like mobs.

As she walked, her phone suddenly rang — a video call request.

The Film Emperor calls her three times a day for video chats—if he has more free time, it goes up to five or six.

Qian answered the call with complete familiarity, and immediately saw the face of the naturally blessed Film Emperor appear on the screen. She, on the other hand, was holding the phone low, so all he saw from the bottom-up camera angle was her chubby face in extreme close-up.

“Qian, do you miss Daddy?”

“Miss Daddy.”

“Eh? Where are you?”

“Playing games. I’m at the office!”

Tong Jianxu caught a glimpse of the Wild Game logo flashing past in the background.

“You went to Wild Game’s building with Boss Zai? Is it fun? Why isn’t anyone playing with you?”

…

After some chatting, Qian got tired of holding the phone, so she hung it around her neck together with the employee badge. She kept wandering through different workstations, occasionally saying a word or two to Tong Jianxu. All he could see was the shaky floor and passing legs of people walking by.

“Qian, you’re Qian, right? I’m a friend of your mom,” someone said.

From the screen, Tong Jianxu saw a pair of legs approaching, and then someone crouched down. A woman’s voice began chatting with the child.

“Hello.”

“Hahaha, hello! You’re so cute!” Gao Jia looked around and, seeing no one nearby, felt a rush of joy. She thought this was the perfect moment to get her baby fix.

“Jie-jie,” Qian said, recognizing her and snuggling up close, almost curling up in her arms, her phone swinging along and pointing straight at her.

“Such a sweet little mouth. You should call me Auntie, not Jie-jie. Oh, baby, you’re so adorable—can Auntie give you a little kiss?”

Her tone gradually got weirder, like a cat lady getting high off petting.

Tong Jianxu, listening through the phone: “…”

He coughed deliberately as a warning.

“What was that sound?” Gao Jia thought it was just a video playing on the kid’s phone. She casually flipped the screen around—and came face-to-face with a very familiar face.

As a former fan of the Film Emperor, Gao Jia froze like a glitched-out livestream.

The Film Emperor smiled in the video: “Hello. Thank you for liking Qian.”

Gao Jia: “…” I take it back. I don’t like her anymore. Not at all.

Around lunchtime, Zaiye came downstairs looking for the kid and found her beside a workstation.

She was leaning against a chair with an employee, watching videos together, and munching on some snacks that someone had given her. The employee had both earbuds in, totally absorbed in their show, completely unaware there was a kid right next to them.

Zaiye glanced once at the slacking employee, then scooped the child up and took her to lunch.

On the way, they bumped into Assistant Zhang, who finally had a break from work.

The three had lunch together, though for some reason, all the other employees in the cafeteria kept sneaking glances at them with strange expressions.

After lunch, Assistant Zhang went back to work, and Zaiye brought Qian back to his office, found a little blanket, and set her up for a nap.

Qian followed him, hugging a pillow, and asked, “So Assistant Zhang is my mom now, right?”

Previously, Tong Jianxu had explained that Assistant Zhang was just pretending to be her mom.

Later on, whenever Assistant Zhang sent gifts, Tong Jianxu would say they were from “Mom,” and Qian would sometimes ask her for in-game gift packs during video calls—and always got them. She’d taken quite a liking to her.

But this also made her think of something.

“She’s the mom Daddy found for me. What about the mom you’re going to find me, Daddy?”

“…Shut up.”

Zaiye’s expression darkened, clearly reminded of some not-so-pleasant memories.

After a few days of lording around the office, Qian was due to be picked up by Tong Jianxu.

In the first three days after Zaiye brought her back, he couldn’t get enough of holding her. By the fifth day, she started to get a little annoying. But now that she was leaving again, all he felt was reluctance.

Her mischief and annoying antics were suddenly forgotten.

But that heartless little thing—the moment Tong Jianxu arrived, she dashed straight over to him. After just a few sweet words and the promise of taking her home to play, she was beaming with joy and completely forgot about Zaiye.

Zaiye folded his arms and scowled as he watched Tong Jianxu pack up the child’s things. He didn’t show a single pleasant expression the whole time.

“Bye-bye! Come visit me, okay?” Qian’s words finally softened his stony expression a little.

“It’s almost the end of the year. The company’s crazy busy. Where would I find the time to visit you?” Zaiye grumbled.

And he wasn’t lying—after Tong Jianxu wrapped up his work, it was Zaiye’s turn to drown in it.

Tong Jianxu had officially finished all his scenes—completely wrapped. He had come straight from H City World to pick up Qian, without even stopping by home.

Once they got home, he finally relaxed fully. He flopped onto the living room couch, his face full of exhaustion.

His manager, Feng Yu, rushed over with a nutritionist to plan his meals and help him gain back all the weight he’d lost over the past few months.

“I’ve also scheduled your maintenance appointments. You didn’t have time during filming, and your skin’s gotten rough.”

“This won’t do—tsk, you’ve gotten way too skinny.” Feng Yu turned and spotted Qian, and his expression softened. “But our little Qianbao has plumped up a bit.”

Tong Jianxu smiled too, his eyes curving with satisfaction. The joy on his face practically sparkled.

“Qian’s got a belly now, while Daddy’s all bones.”

Qian sat cross-legged next to him, made a cupping motion over her belly with both hands, then “poured” the imaginary belly fat onto his skinny waist.

“I’ll give Daddy some of my fat.”

Tong Jianxu was moved to the core: “My daughter is so filial!”

Encouraged, Qian started smacking his tummy even more enthusiastically. The sound of her little hands slapping his stomach echoed endlessly.

Feng Yu turned away, unable to bear watching that heroic dad smile any longer. If your waist hurts, stop pretending it doesn’PK