Chapter Thirty: She Is the Whole World

Chapter Thirty: She Is My Whole World

Longing sits beside me,
Thick memories spread beneath the moonlight,
Longing follows in your footsteps,
Watching your smile, kissing your lips,
If love were a swing,
You would be my starting point,
Longing is a stack of yesterdays,
The apologies you gave, I wish I’d never heard,
Longing is an invisible wire,
Receiving only images of the past,
Without you, how could I play the part?
Those ‘forevers’ you once spoke of...

The trip to Paris was a delight. While filming the show, we also took the chance to explore this international metropolis. After returning home, a few extra shots were filmed—just as the production team learned of Zhang Le’s performance of the French song “My Name Is Elena” and the Chinese version, “Longing,” so additional footage was shot to enhance the program.

But it wasn’t Zhang Le singing “Longing”; it was Yang Xin’er. The two used the show to promote the song as well. Besides that, there were numerous questions, clearly intended to match scenes in the broadcast.

Back in the country, Zhang Le remained busy with post-production for “Crazy Stone.” Meanwhile, Yanjing Satellite TV had already begun promoting “Always With You.” The Paris trip would air in two episodes, with the first to be released in half a month. The next filming was scheduled for a week later.

Yang Xin’er hadn’t taken on new roles recently, just a few commercial performances and appearances—not too busy, and she sometimes dropped by the company. One evening, when Zhang Le left the office, night had already fallen. As soon as he stepped out of the building, two men approached him. One spoke, “Are you Zhang Le?”

“Yes,” Zhang Le replied, nodding, his gaze filled with curiosity.

“My name is Yang Mingwei, Xin’er’s brother. Can we talk?” The man smiled, polite but with an unmistakable authority that brooked no refusal.

Zhang Le glanced at the companion. The man was silent, just watching him. Though not tall, he exuded a formidable intensity. His stance and bearing suggested he was a military elite.

Probably Yang Mingwei’s bodyguard—or perhaps his adjutant. Zhang Le noticed the same military air in Yang Mingwei’s demeanor and speech.

“All right,” Zhang Le said calmly.

Yang Mingwei’s vehicle was a military jeep, bearing a military license plate, confirming Zhang Le’s suspicions.

Though Zhang Le had always tried, intentionally or not, to avoid confronting Yang Xin’er’s family background, she, too, had subtly avoided the topic in front of him. Still, after spending so much time together, Zhang Le could deduce a few things. Yang Xin’er’s family was deeply connected to the military.

They found a nearby teahouse and booked a private room. Sitting across from each other, neither spoke.

“You’re a smart man. You should know why I’ve come,” Yang Mingwei said quietly.

“It’s about me and Xin’er?” Zhang Le responded.

“The family doesn’t know about you two yet. I only found out by chance while watching TV,” Yang Mingwei explained. “Grandfather cherishes Xin’er—she’s his only granddaughter, spoiled since childhood. The family never wanted her in show business, and certainly not to date anyone from that world. Do you understand?”

“I do. So?” Zhang Le looked at him, voice steady, as if he’d long prepared for this.

“Therefore, I hope you’ll leave Xin’er,” Yang Mingwei said.

“What if I refuse?” Zhang Le’s tone remained calm.

“The family will never approve. It’s not up to Xin’er. With her temperament, she’s likely to clash with us all over this. That’s what I don’t want to see,” Yang Mingwei’s brows knit, his gaze sharp as he stared at Zhang Le. “If you’re willing to leave, name your price.”

Zhang Le laughed. “If Xin’er never lets me down, I’ll never let her down. Rather than waste your breath with me, you’d do better convincing her.”

“If talking to Xin’er worked, I wouldn’t be here,” Yang Mingwei replied coldly. “I watched her grow up. I know her better than you do. You and Xin’er aren’t suited for each other. Better to break it off now before pain and chaos set in.”

“Whether we’re suited isn’t for you to decide,” Zhang Le said.

“Is that so?” Yang Mingwei continued, “You’ve heard of Jiayi Film Group, haven’t you?”

“Xin’er’s old company. Of course I have,” Zhang Le nodded.

“My family owns twenty-five percent of it. If you leave Xin’er, I’ll transfer all those shares to your name. Whether you’re suited depends on whether my offer is enough. What do you say? Is my offer sufficient?” Yang Mingwei spoke with quiet certainty.

Zhang Le was surprised, but only surprised. He felt no temptation. Xin’er had told him her cousin was a major shareholder in Jiayi Film Group, but he hadn’t realized her family held such a large stake. It was likely a safety net for her entry into the entertainment industry.

“I truly don’t know whether Xin’er should feel lucky or sad to have a brother like you,” Zhang Le shook his head, rising to leave.

“I know your situation well. Don’t be too greedy. With Jiayi’s current value, you could work a lifetime and never earn so much. If it’s not enough, just say so!” Yang Mingwei’s face darkened as he watched Zhang Le stand.

“Whether I can earn it isn’t the point. The point is whether it’s mine by effort. Trading love for gain is more shameful than getting something for nothing. Xin’er isn’t merchandise, nor a bargaining chip. You’re right—I am greedy. Whether we’re suited does depend on the stakes. But you don’t know, and never will, that Xin’er is my whole world. You can’t afford her!” With that, Zhang Le strode toward the door.

At the threshold, Yang Mingwei’s companion blocked his way, refusing to let him pass.

“Move aside!” Zhang Le demanded, his voice fierce, a fire blazing inside him. He ignored the man and marched ahead.

The man not only refused to move but attempted to restrain Zhang Le. With a cold snort, Zhang Le seized the man’s hand and, with a sudden burst of force, flung him aside, sending him crashing into the wall with a dull thud.

But Zhang Le didn’t stop there. He saw the stubborn glare and rising hostility in the man’s eyes. If he left it at that, trouble would only escalate. Stepping forward, he pressed a hand to the man’s abdomen, channeling force into a pressure point, then left without looking back.

Their exchange was swift; by the time Yang Mingwei reacted, all he saw was Zhang Le’s departing figure. His bodyguard stood by the wall, unmoving, face twisted in pain, sweat pouring down.

“Striking pressure points with internal force—ruthless! I hadn’t expected him to be so skilled. No wonder he reacted so fiercely; he must have thought I was insulting him,” Yang Mingwei murmured, shaken. He shook his head, took out his phone, and dialed.

Yang Mingwei practiced martial arts himself and understood the severity. Hit with internal force on a pressure point, he couldn’t resolve it alone. Such an attack could leave lasting damage. If that happened, his soldier would be ruined.

It was a result he could not accept.