Chapter 83: Film Emperor (3)

“Just yesterday I was laughing at Jiang Jin’s scandal blowing up, and now it’s your turn. I can already imagine the chaos if news breaks that our dear Film Emperor Tong secretly had a child—no, an unmarried child. Your fans will go wild. Not to mention your endorsements, your projects, and that main-theme movie you’ve been negotiating…”

Feng Yu kept rambling on, looking like she had the worst headache of her life.

Compared to her, the person most directly affected—Tong Jianxu himself—was trying hard to recall just how he could’ve ended up with a daughter.

Based on the girl’s age, it would have been a little over three years ago. At the time, he’d been in Province A filming a TV series, spending nearly seven straight months there. Other actors took breaks to attend variety shows or other work, but he hadn’t left the area once.

And during that whole period… he couldn’t recall anything particularly out of the ordinary.

While he was drawing a total blank, the film emperor could still hear his manager’s voice exploding with questions and theories—and then he spotted the child standing on the stairs.

She had just woken up. Her hair was sticking out in the back, and she was rubbing her eyes while holding onto the stair railing, slowly making her way down.

His house had high ceilings, so the stairs were a bit steep. The child had put on one of his new T-shirts, which now looked like a long nightgown on her. As she stepped down one stair at a time, the hem of the shirt wrapped around her like a little mushroom scooting along.

Noticing Tong Jianxu’s gaze, Feng Yu turned to look as well—and when she saw the very obvious daughter of the Film Emperor, she forced a smile, walked over, and carried the child to the couch.

“Sweetie, can you tell Auntie who your mommy is?”

“I don’t have a mommy.”

“Then where did you used to live? Who was taking care of you? And who brought you here?”

“……”

“Jie,” Tong Jianxu cut her off, “can I talk to you outside?”

Feng Yu, clearly agitated, followed him out to the courtyard.

“What is it? We need to get clear answers right now if we want to manage the PR properly. If we stay in the dark, we’ll be completely passive!”

“I get it. But from now on, please don’t talk about things like this in front of the child.”

Through the glass window, Tong Jianxu looked at the little girl sitting on the couch. The couch was huge, and she was so small—just sitting there all alone, looking lonely and a little lost.

“She’s only three. How much could she even understand? Us being anxious around her will only scare her. And Jie, don’t act like she’s some kind of problem. Kids can sense that.”

Even though her sudden appearance had caused no small amount of trouble, Feng Yu knew one thing for sure—Tong Jianxu would never become like his grandfather. Having been treated like a burden himself as a child, there was no way he would treat his own child that way.

“…Okay. I get it.”

“I don’t know how she came into my life,” Tong Jianxu suddenly smiled, “but Jie, I really have a daughter now.”

“You still have the nerve to smile!” Feng Yu snapped.

But after that, she finally calmed down.

“Well, it’s not that bad. It’s not like you’re a traffic-star idol. You’ve spent most of the past few years filming, and when you weren’t working, you basically disappeared off the radar. Your public appearances were mostly for promotions. Your fans shouldn’t be that crazy. As long as we set things up properly, even if some of them can’t accept it, it shouldn’t tank your career too badly.”

“The most important thing right now is giving the child a reasonable background. You have a kid now—she’s gotta have a mom, right…”

They were still talking outside when inside, Qian was sitting on the couch, nodding off and almost hitting her head again.

The door opened, and the two adults came back in.

Tong Jianxu walked up to Qian and squatted down in front of her, studying her face closely.

His feelings were completely different from yesterday. Yesterday she was just a little girl who happened to be connected to him by fate. Today, she was the person closest to his heart.

“Hi there.”

“Mm, hi.”

The same greeting, but with a slightly different tone.

“Qian, right? You’re really my daughter, huh.”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s incredible. How did you come into my life? Did Santa Claus bring you to me after I made a wish?”

Trying to build some rapport, Tong Jianxu used this lighthearted explanation.

But the child gave him a look and said, “Don’t you know? Santa Claus isn’t real.”

Film Emperor, debunked by a three-year-old: “……”

“Pfft.” Feng Yu, arms crossed and watching the rookie dad meet his daughter, burst out laughing.

Tong Jianxu wasn’t the least bit discouraged.

He said to the child, “Even though your arrival was unexpected, I’m really happy you’re here with me.”

Qian suddenly stared at him, making the film emperor feel a little awkward. Then she asked, “Really?”

He smiled instantly. “Really. I’m your dad, aren’t I? Dads don’t lie to their daughters.”

“Some dads do lie,” she muttered, but her expression relaxed a little.

She nodded and scooted a bit closer to him.

“Then remember, don’t like me too much.”

Qian held out her hand, showing a tiny pinch with her fingers. “Just like me this much, that’s enough.”

Another surprising thing from the little one.

“Huh? Why?”

Qian didn’t answer, just stared at him with big, round, dark eyes. Her cute little face made his heart melt.

“…Alright then,” Tong Jianxu agreed, and then, returning the gesture, he said, “But can you like me a lot?”

She’d never been asked something like that before. After a pause, Qian nodded. “Okay.”

For this daughter who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, Tong Jianxu was overwhelmed with curiosity.

He was like a new cat owner, constantly watching his cat, circling around, unable to stop.

He followed her to the bathroom and stood at the doorway watching her squeeze toothpaste and brush her teeth all by herself.

“Jie, look—she can brush her own teeth.”

“What’s the big deal? She can eat by herself too. You saw it yesterday.”

That said, Feng Yu still joined him at the door, watching.

She was successful in her career, married, but had never had children.

The two of them stood there, one on each side, quietly watching the child finish washing up.

“Want me to help you with your braids?” Tong Jianxu asked.

Qian handed him the comb.

Looking at the man in the mirror bending over to brush her hair, Qian habitually placed her small hands on the countertop. She was suddenly reminded of another daddy who used to do the same—tying her little braids in the morning.

Especially that same clumsy, awkward method, the kind of rough, impatient strength that felt like pulling up sprouts by force. The tugging that yanked her whole head back, even pulling at her eyelids—so familiar, it instantly stirred up some memories in the child.

When that daddy was still new, it was pretty much the same.

“Let me do it!” Feng Yu couldn’t bear to watch any longer and took over.

“I really am a bit worried you can’t take care of a kid. Aside from acting, you can’t do anything—you can’t even look after yourself.”

“Let me try first. Qian doesn’t seem hard to look after,” the Film Emperor replied, oddly confident for someone so inexperienced.

“Alright then. I’ll let you get a taste of what it’s like to care for a kid. In a couple of days, I’ll hire a nanny,” the manager said, not bothering to shatter his optimism.

Three-year-old Qian, compared to seven-year-old Qian, didn’t think as fast or have so many complicated thoughts. Most of the time she just acted on instinct. She didn’t suddenly get wild ideas to mess with the world around her. Once her basic physical needs were met, she was basically an angel.

The busy manager went off to investigate the child’s background, prepare some PR, and still found time to buy a whole pile of kid supplies.

Tong Jianxu had been sitting on the couch reading a script. When he saw the manager bring in a mountain of things for the kid, he put the script aside and went over to check them out.

Qian stood on a chair being held up, watching as Tong Jianxu and Feng Yu unpacked everything one item at a time.

Daily necessities, even some toys.

Among them was a unicorn plushie—not colorful, but still felt very familiar. Qian grabbed the unicorn plushie. Then she suddenly saw a little yellow duck cup and reached out for that too.

Just like that, she sat back down on the sofa, holding one in each hand.

That night, Qian still slept in the guest room like the night before—only this time, there was a unicorn plushie tucked in the bed with her.

Tong Jianxu stayed up late. The manager, who had gone home, still hadn’t gone to bed either and sent him a message: the security office checked the surveillance footage, but none of the three entrances had any sign of how the child got into the complex.

After replying, Tong Jianxu suddenly remembered something and sent another message.

“In a few days, take the child to the hospital for a check-up.”

The manager replied quickly: “A physical? You worried she was abandoned by her mother because she’s sick and they couldn’t afford treatment?”

Tong Jianxu didn’t think as far as the manager had. He explained, “I want her checked to see if she’s like me—abnormal.”

This time the manager took much longer to reply: “Alright. Got it. Don’t worry—she probably isn’t.”

It was already deep into the night, yet Tong Jianxu still didn’t feel sleepy. He opened a drawer and reached for a bottle of pills, but then suddenly remembered how the child had cried in her sleep the night before—and put the bottle back.

He got up and went downstairs, standing outside the guest room to listen.

There really was a faint sound of sobbing.

“Wake up, Qian. You had another nightmare?”

Qian opened her eyes in confusion and saw her new daddy sitting at her bedside.

“Are you scared to sleep alone? Or is it just uncomfortable sleeping here? Want to go upstairs and sleep in my room?”

Compared to the fierce aura of the Demon Lord, the Film Emperor looked harmless and comforting.

Qian reached her little arms out to him.

Tong Jianxu carried her up to the third floor.

The entire third floor was his private suite—not even his manager or assistant came up often.

A big bed sat on a raised platform, soft rugs laid on either side. Right in front was a large window.

Nearby was a small screening area with a circle of cozy sofas. The bathroom door was tightly shut.

He set the child down on the bed. She immediately rolled to one side and sat there, curiously observing her new surroundings.

He turned off the main light and switched on two wall lamps. Tong Jianxu sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the script he’d been reading earlier.

“I’m leaving the light on. Go ahead and sleep.”

The child didn’t sleep. She kept peeking at him like a little animal.

“Want to chat?” Tong Jianxu turned and smiled at her. “Was the place you lived in before this big?”

Qian nodded. “Very big. It was the Demon Palace.”

Tong Jianxu: “…Factory? Demon Palace? Ahem. Did you usually sleep alone too? Or was someone with you?”

“There was one bad dad.” She hesitated, then corrected herself, “One not-bad dad slept with me.”

“So Qian had a daddy before too?” Tong Jianxu started to wonder what kind of person had been raising this child before.

Realizing she’d said too much, Qian quickly covered her mouth. But when she saw the gentle smile still on her new dad’s face, she slipped under the covers with a giggle.

After a while, a small hand reached out from under the blanket and pulled the unicorn plushie in with her.

The child fell asleep not long after, hidden under the covers.

Tong Jianxu lifted the blanket to take a look. She was sleeping face down, her chubby cheeks squished flat. A wave of drowsiness hit him as well, and he lay down beside her with his eyes closed.

But Qian didn’t sleep very still—she liked to roll and squirm. Unfortunately for her, tonight she had met her match.

Her new daddy, after falling asleep, rolled over toward her and completely encroached on her sleeping space.

No matter how much she curled up, the Film Emperor was still a big man compared to the child. He even ended up resting his head right on her tiny body.

Having never slept with anyone else before, the Film Emperor felt this “obstacle” under his head. He frowned in his sleep and kept nudging the small “obstacle” until it was pushed right off the bed.

Thud—the child hit the floor and woke up, dazed, lying on the rug.

She saw her new daddy’s hand dangling off the bed and his body about to fall off too. Qian grabbed that big hand with all her might and yanked it downward.

Thud—Tong Jianxu also fell off the bed.

Qian immediately stepped on his waist and climbed back onto the bed.

——————

—Main-theme movies refers to films that promote the official values, historical narratives, or political ideals of a government—especially common in Chinese cinema where such films often focus on patriotism, collectivism, historical achievements, or socialist values.