Chapter 11

We stopped at a spot that was just right.

I’d already scoped this place out yesterday. It was perfect for building a cabin.

After I told Lu Mingshen and the others my idea, they rolled up their sleeves and headed out to look for logs without a single complaint.

I couldn’t help sighing to myself.

Just a few days ago, these two-one was a Triple Crown Best Actor and a bona fide Film Emperor who’d won so many awards he could hardly keep count.

The other was the poster boy for idol-turned-actor success, his career in full swing.

And now they were covered in dirt, chopping wood for me.

Fantasy.

Absolutely fantastical.

While they were out gathering lumber, I went to check the traps I’d set in the forest that morning.

Turned out my luck was good this time. I’d caught a wild pheasant.

Roast pheasant for dinner!

The bird wasn’t done cooking yet when, in the quiet, a loud gurgle broke the silence.

Fang Cheng’an cupped a hand over his stomach, embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m starving.”

I flipped the pheasant over with practiced ease. “Almost done.”

He glanced at me, his face inexplicably turning a bit red.

“I didn’t expect you to be this capable. You can even slaughter a chicken.”

“Don’t slander me. The trap did the killing. I’m only in charge of prep.”

Fang Cheng’an chuckled. “Li Qing and the others all insist on meeting your standards for food, and I haven’t helped with anything. If you have any requests, I’ll definitely fulfill them!”

You said it yourself.

I gave him a once-over, narrowed my eyes. “I watched the drama you did last year. Your figure’s not bad… I’m a little curious.”

Fang Cheng’an froze for a second, then stood up, face flushed, and lifted his shirt.

Oh ho.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

Nice. Eight-pack.

While all this was going on, Lu Mingshen had been staring at me without saying a word.

At some point, he slipped away.

The next time I saw him, he was walking past me, casually tugging his shirt off like it was nothing.

I glanced over.

Wow.

He said offhandedly, “My shirt’s wet. I’m drying it by the fire.”

I said, “You…”

Lu Mingshen arched a brow. “What?”

“Careful you don’t catch a cold.”

Lu Mingshen: “…”