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Bonus chapter! Thank you for the donation! ^^
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A great beauty deserves the most dazzling diamond—brilliant and damnably pure.
The ten-carat diamond ring that Lu Qin had his eye on cost more than several luxury watches combined. Its design, clarity, and cut all added to its hefty price tag.
But now, compared to the ten gold rings from Pei Dundun, it somehow seemed plain and unremarkable.
He was a step too late, and he hadn’t even matched the quantity.
Pei Rong’s fingers were long and elegant. With a gold ring now on his ring finger, it wasn’t as if there was no room left for a diamond. But Lu Qin decided to respect his little son’s heartfelt gesture—after all, the child had been crying so bitterly while holding Pei Rong’s hand earlier. It wasn’t like Pei Rong could comfortably wear all eight gold rings forever.
Let Dundun’s gold rings stay on a little longer.
If he gave the diamond ring today, and tomorrow Dundun woke up to find Pei Rong only wearing his dad’s ring and not his, wouldn’t he be upset?
Being the good dad that he was, Lu Qin took a big lick of his ice cream cone—one for Dundun, and the one he’d already bitten into for his wife.
Pei Rong then took a large bite from Dundun’s cone as well, leaving the kid with only what was level with the wafer.
The weather was getting colder—it wasn’t good to eat too much.
Dundun had never had so much of his ice cream “shared” away before, but today was his dad’s birthday, so what could he say? He didn’t like the outer layer anyway, and was busy trying to lick every bit of the ice cream inside.
If he’d mentioned wanting an ice cream cone earlier that morning while bulk-buying gold rings at the jewelry store, the enthusiastic sales assistant might have bought him a whole dozen.
Lu Qin asked, “Do you want to play golf?”
Pei Rong declined, “No, you teach Dundun. I’ll watch.”
After a full week of filming, Pei Rong felt the same as he did after every wrap—he just wanted to lie down.
“Not even one hole?”
“Nope.”
The staff brought two golf clubs, the smaller one custom-made for Dundun.
Lu Qin explained the rules to Pei Dundun, who listened and nodded seriously. “Dundun understands.”
Lu Qin sighed with emotion—how lucky was he to have such a clever son right from the start?
Father and son swung their clubs and chased the ball, while Pei Rong followed behind in a golf cart like a referee.
Just as Dundun putted the ball into one of the holes, a ding-dong sound rang out, and suddenly clusters of pink balloons rose around the golf course, surrounding the entire field.
"Wow!" Pei Dundun gasped in surprise.
Pei Rong raised an eyebrow, looking at Lu Qin.
Lu Qin kept a straight face: "It's like those whack-a-mole games where the lights flash when you hit one—this is a reward mechanism. It helps Dundun maintain interest in the sport."
Pei Rong remembered the time three years ago when Lu Qin gave him a watch during a culture class. This really was Lu Qin's usual tactic. While it didn't work on someone as detached and lazy as him, it was more than enough to keep a little kid hooked.
Sure enough, Dundun's interest in this otherwise monotonous sport lasted longer. He eagerly sent the ball into the next hole.
Ding dong—Colorful hydrogen balloons rose into the sky. With little wind, they ascended straight along their planned path. Dozens of meters up, they faintly formed the shape of a heart.
Dundun thought: Golf is actually really fun.
Pei Rong squinted at the azure sky, a slight smile curling at the corners of his lips.
Lu Qin had originally planned to coax Pei Rong into playing golf, but now the little one had taken over completely.
He had estimated that by the sixth hole, Pei Rong would have called it quits, and that's when a drone would have delivered the diamond ring.
As it turned out, by the sixth hole, Dundun was panting and out of breath. A drone brought him a bottle of milk.
Dundun gulped down the milk: "Dad, let's play again next time."
Pei Dundun was usually bursting with energy, but after his big crying fit earlier, half his stamina was already gone. By now, he was completely exhausted. Sitting on the grass, he grew sleepier with each sip of milk. Driven by instinct, he finished the bottle, then tipped over and fell asleep right there on the lawn.
Lu Qin picked up Dundun, wrapped him in his coat, and got into the golf cart together. He looked meaningfully at the stunning beauty: "Have you rested enough?"
Pei Rong glanced at the little one, who wouldn't wake up for the rest of the night, then back at Lu Qin... Fine. So Old Bear Lu wins no matter what, huh?
He said, "Filming was exhausting. I need to sleep for three days straight."
Lu Qin: "You go ahead and sleep."
Pei Rong: ?
Was there any simulated check-up they hadn't already done?
He'd been filming for a week, and Lu Qin had held back for that entire week. Tonight probably wouldn't be easy.
But for a lazybones like him, sleeping like the dead on the day a project wrapped was an unshakable rule.
Hah, I definitely need to find a way to make Lu Qin understand my usual routine.
Pei Rong nervously racked his brain for solutions, but nothing seemed reliable. He opened his phone to check the Lu Corporation stocks he’d bought—if they were still in the red, what right did Lu Qin have to get into bed?
As he watched the stocks slowly recover, by the 3 PM market close, the return rate had settled squarely at zero!
That zero felt like it was mocking him.
Pei Rong was sure of it.
While exiting the stock app, his finger accidentally swiped into Weibo.
Today was his birthday. Even though he’d been out of the entertainment industry for nearly three years, fans still persistently sent him birthday wishes via private messages and in his fan community.
Most celebrity fan clubs are managed with involvement from the artist’s studio. After distributing free commemorative merchandise, Pei Rong had disbanded all his fan groups.
Without organized support, big-budget gestures like buying billboard ads, subway promotions, or birthday charity donations became impossible. In the past, his fans’ spending power on his birthdays had been downright rampant. Now, only spontaneous Weibo messages remained.
Three years without a trace—no one knew where he’d traveled, whether he’d married and had children, or if his looks had faded. Remembering his birthday after all this time… that was true loyalty.
Scrolling through the messages, Pei Rong became absorbed. Since he planned to treat acting as a regular job again, wouldn’t it be appropriate to post a Weibo thanking his fans?
He began drafting: “Thank you all for the wishes…” when suddenly, he spotted his own name in the trending searches.
[Some gossip account: Some people think too highly of themselves—earn enough money, then swan off traveling, abandoning their fans without a second thought. Take a trip, realize the money’s run out, and then condescend to return to the entertainment industry like they’re doing everyone a favor. Give me a break. If you’re coming back to beg for scraps, drop the high-and-mighty act. Oh wait, three years have passed—guess we should call you “uncle” now, since you’ve started playing the male lead’s father.]
No name was mentioned, but the word “traveling” singled out Pei Rong unmistakably.
His loyal fans, already gathering spontaneously today, could easily tear a gossip account to shreds.
They had the fighting spirit, but their confidence was shaky. After the blogger relentlessly taunted them with, “Your fave’s looks are ruined after three years away; now he’s back to play the male lead’s dad,” over and over, and even posted a blurred cast list, even the fans started to waver.
Pei Rong had left the industry for three years, retiring at the peak of his beauty, leaving everyone with the myth of his unparalleled looks.
If, after three years, the long-awaited top beauty of the entertainment circle returned, no longer at his peak but still trying to cash in, not only would he face public ridicule, but his fans’ morale would collapse.
So many once-explosively popular celebrities, after fading from the spotlight, could only return to play the parents of the main leads—or worse, leverage their former fame to become live-stream sellers.
In short, the star’s prestige would be gone.
Before leaving the entertainment industry, Pei Rong had built a reputation as someone fiercely focused on making money. His fans were now feeling uneasy—were they really going to have to watch him through the heavily filtered, almost surreal lens of a live stream now?
The man who once looked flawless in any camera angle, under any lighting—what did he look like now?
Haters seized the moment to spread rumors: "If his surgically-enhanced face has collapsed, is there even anything left to see? LOL, playing the male lead's father before he's even thirty—just how badly has he aged?"
Pei Rong glanced at the "male lead" beside him. Well, what's wrong with playing his father?
He sent a message to Zhou Hang: "It's my birthday, and I'm trending for the wrong reasons. Aren't you going to do something about it?"
Deep down, fans were nervous, but they stubbornly insisted the gossip accounts were lying. They argued so fiercely that the accounts finally released a behind-the-scenes photo from the set.
It showed Pei Rong in plain clothes, holding a little child as he walked toward a deep forest.
The child was clinging to his shoulder, staring stubbornly at the camera. Most of the child's face was hidden, only revealing a pair of bold eyebrows, red-rimmed eyes from crying, and the bridge of his nose.
The lower half of his face—the part that most resembled Pei Rong—was completely covered by the shoulder.
The gossip account added mockingly: "Tsk, look who's actually filming."
