My Nemesis Has Finally Gone Bankrupt Chapter 117

Chapter 117:

The filming lasted a full three months, wrapping up within the expected schedule.  

On the final day, Jiang Yunjian posted on Weibo, sharing a group photo of the entire cast and crew. Out of his own pocket, he also arranged for a generous amount of Japanese cuisine to be delivered to the set before packing up and leaving.  

“Good job, everyone.” Bo Zhen finally breathed a sigh of relief. The script had gone back for revisions multiple times during filming—at one point, he almost thought it would delay Jiang Yunjian’s upcoming schedule. “You have tomorrow off. The day after, you’ll be heading to Paris for some magazine shoots. Oh, and since the New Year is approaching, I haven’t scheduled anything for you until the seventh day of the new year. Use this time to rest.”  

“Thanks, Brother.” Jiang Yunjian leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. “I’m not going home yet. I’ll stop by your place first.”  

The moment those words left his mouth, Bo Zhen knew he was going to see Cheng Peng tonight. Though Cheng Peng had already made arrangements to keep the media at bay, just in case, Jiang Yunjian still preferred leaving from Bo Zhen’s place to be extra cautious.  

“How about I drive you there?” Once home, Bo Zhen picked up his car keys. “If anything happens on the way, at least I’ll be there.”  

“It’s fine.” Jiang Yunjian pulled on a face mask, covering himself up completely. “It’s winter—no one will suspect anything. Don’t worry.”  

“I don’t have anything urgent to do anyway…”  

“No need, Brother. I have a few things to pick up on the way, so it’s not convenient.” Jiang Yunjian replied.  

Bo Zhen immediately had an idea of what he meant. In the past, he might have made a few comments, but ever since learning about their relationship, he had nothing left to say.  

He didn’t approve of Jiang Yunjian being anyone’s kept lover, but he fully supported him being in love. Jiang Yunjian was great in every way—just a bit too single-minded. Since the day they met, Jiang Yunjian had only ever had eyes for one person. If they were going to date, then so be it. Ideally, it would last forever. And if it didn’t, at least he wouldn’t have regrets.  

Jiang Yunjian drove to a flower shop.  

Inside, only one shop assistant was present. Seeing him walk in, they quickly approached and asked what kind of flowers he needed.  

Jiang Yunjian had no idea, so he asked, “It’s for my boyfriend. What flowers would be best?”  

The assistant was momentarily stunned. “Boyfriend? Do you mean a male friend, or…?”  

“No.” Even through the layers of disguise, Jiang Yunjian spoke with unwavering confidence. “I mean a boyfriend.”  

The assistant immediately understood and nodded. “For a romantic partner, roses are always the best choice. Champagne roses and pink roses are both great options. But since your partner is a man, white roses might be an even better choice.”  

Jiang Yunjian glanced at the rows of flowers, his gaze landing on a small tag hanging beside the champagne roses. The tag displayed the flower’s meaning.

With just one glance, he made up his mind. “Champagne roses, please wrap them up for me. Thank you.”  

As soon as Cheng Peng saw him walk in holding a bouquet of roses, he didn’t even have time to speak—his lips had already curled into a smile.  

“What anniversary is it today?” Cheng Peng sat in his office chair, waiting for him to come closer.  

“It’s not an anniversary.” Jiang Yunjian stopped in front of the desk and took off his mask. “…I just wanted to give them to you.”  

Cheng Peng leaned back in his chair slightly and reached out his hand. “Come here.”  

The scent of the roses was faint, their creamy color elegant and refined. Cheng Peng took them, sniffed lightly, and said, “Thank you.”  

Jiang Yunjian shook his head, his ears turning red. He had hesitated for a long time last night. In this day and age, even guys rarely gave flowers to girls, let alone two grown men.  

He had picked up the habit from his father. Before he passed away, his father often brought flowers home for his mother—bought ones, picked ones, even wildflowers from the roadside. Usually, it was just one or two, with more on special occasions. The flowers weren’t expensive, and over time, they weren’t exactly a surprise anymore. But every time his mother saw them, she smiled more beautifully than the flowers themselves.  

So, he wanted to give flowers to Cheng Peng too. Even if it was just once.  

“I really like them.” Cheng Peng placed the flowers aside and took his hand. Then, he pulled open a drawer and took out a small box.  

Inside was a cufflink, from the same custom jeweler Jiang Yunjian had ordered from last time—exquisite, compact, with a unique pattern. “A gift to celebrate the end of filming.”  

Jiang Yunjian looked at the box and suddenly let out a laugh.  

Cheng Peng raised an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”  

“We don’t seem very good at giving gifts,” Jiang Yunjian said with a smile. “First it was a watch, now it’s cufflinks.”  

Cheng Peng laughed as well. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to give gifts—he just used to be more casual about it, without so many concerns. Now, he worried that Jiang Yunjian wouldn’t need it, or worse, wouldn’t like it.  

After Cheng Peng finished his work, they had dinner together before heading home.  

During the next phase of filming, Director Wu refused to let anyone take time off, and Jiang Yunjian didn’t dare to ask for leave either. So it was always Cheng Peng visiting him on set. If he counted the days, it had been nearly two months since he had last been to Cheng Peng’s place.  

That’s why, when he saw that the TV in the living room was filled with cached videos of the dramas he had filmed, he was a little taken aback.  

He froze. “You…?”  

Cheng Peng pressed play while resting an arm on the back of the sofa behind Jiang Yunjian’s neck, as if loosely holding him. “Hmm?”  

“There’s nothing worth watching.” Jiang Yunjian rarely watched his own work, let alone with Cheng Peng. And right now, the show playing was a romance drama—it made him unbearably embarrassed. “Let’s watch something else.”  

“We’re watching this.” Cheng Peng turned his head and saw his stiff expression, then chuckled. “Are you shy?”  

Jiang Yunjian obediently nodded. “…Yeah.”  

Cheng Peng smirked. “Shy, yet you kissed so passionately on screen.”  

When Jiang Yunjian filmed that drama, TV censorship in the country wasn’t as strict yet, so there were plenty of kissing scenes between the male and female leads—close-ups every time.  

Jiang Yunjian hurried to explain, “It was just for the role. Do you mind?”  

Cheng Peng looked at him. “If I say I do, will you stop filming them?”  

Refusing to do kiss scenes would be seen as unprofessional, and that wasn’t the kind of actor Jiang Yunjian was. He had even lost twenty pounds for a role once, turning so skinny he looked like skin and bones, and it had taken him months to recover.  

He opened his mouth, hesitated, and mumbled, “I…”  

“Relax, I’m messing with you.” Cheng Peng bent his arm and pulled him into an embrace. “How do you usually kiss in your scenes?”  

He lowered his head and kissed Jiang Yunjian’s lips. Before he could even react, Cheng Peng had already traced his lips thoroughly. “Like this?”  

Jiang Yunjian was stunned by the kiss. When Cheng Peng finally let him go, he stammered, “No, not like that… not so—so much movement.”  

Kissing scenes had always been his weakness. He wasn’t good at them; at most, he would just slightly tilt his head.  

Cheng Peng laughed and kissed him again—this time, prying his lips apart. A few minutes later, he asked again, “What about this?”  

“No.” Jiang Yunjian’s face was flushed. “No tongue.”  

“Good.” Cheng Peng looked down at him. “It’s your job, I won’t stop you from filming kiss scenes. Just don’t kiss too intensely, or I’ll get jealous watching.”  

Jiang Yunjian felt his eardrums tremble.  

Cheng Peng would actually get jealous over his kiss scenes?  

“Alright, I probably won’t be doing many romance dramas anymore,” Jiang Yunjian said after thinking for a moment. “The company wants to shift my career direction.” Then, as if clarifying, he added, “I’ve only done kissing scenes—never bed scenes.”  

Cheng Peng chuckled. “You want to do bed scenes?”  

“No way!” Jiang Yunjian shook his head furiously, his face brushing against Cheng Peng’s. “…I only want to be in bed with you.”  

Cheng Peng’s heart stirred. He pinched Jiang Yunjian’s chin. “Are you seducing me on purpose?”  

Jiang Yunjian looked at him, eyes bright. “Mm.”  

Cheng Peng was momentarily caught off guard.  

“I am.” Jiang Yunjian blinked and leaned in to kiss his chin. “I just want to spend more time with you.”  

“We haven’t seen each other for eight days… I miss you every night.”  

“Can you hold me?”  

A long time ago, Cheng Peng had thought about getting Jiang Yunjian to stop addressing him so formally.  

They were lovers, after all—yet he still kept using “you” in the polite form.  

But every time he was about to bring it up, he swallowed the words back. Maybe he was a bit twisted, but he liked hearing Jiang Yunjian call him that.  

Like when he whispered nervously over the phone from a quiet corner on set, “I miss you.”  

Or like now.  

After everything, Jiang Yunjian wrapped his arms around Cheng Peng’s neck and asked, “Did it feel good for you?”  

Cheng Peng placed a palm on the back of his head and smiled. “Of course it did. I was with someone I love.”  

The one who always teased him was the one blushing the hardest.  

Just as Jiang Yunjian was about to say something, a crisp ringtone suddenly rang out from the floor.  

Cheng Peng picked up his phone and checked the new message.  

[This Lunar New Year, can I come visit? Even if it’s just as a friend, please.]  

Jiang Yunjian accidentally caught a glimpse of it, and his body stiffened.  

There was no name attached, but he immediately knew who it was.  

That familiar, spine-chilling feeling crept up again. He shifted slightly, trying to put some distance between them, not wanting his emotions to affect Cheng Peng.  

But before he could move away, a strong hand pulled him back.  

“Where are you going?” Cheng Peng tossed the phone aside.  

Jiang Yunjian asked, “Aren’t you going to reply?”

“There’s nothing worth replying to.” Cheng Peng raised an eyebrow. “Do I seem that unfaithful to you?”  

“No…”  

It was his own lack of confidence. Jiang Yunjian didn’t know what Cheng Peng had liked about his ex, nor did he know if, even now, those feelings still lingered.  

Cheng Peng could guess what he was thinking. In fact, someone else had asked him the same question before—Yue Wenwen.  

Back then, when he thought about it, what had first drawn him in was Chen An’s innocence. It stood out sharply among a group of wealthy young men, making him seem even more conspicuous. He had been carrying a backpack at the time, with his recently changed school uniform tucked inside.  

The circles Cheng Peng moved in were complicated, so finding someone so simple was rare. After he took Chen An away from that crowd, the boy had stammered and asked if he could finish his homework before doing anything else.  

There had been a mix of curiosity and some genuine affection, so he had kept him by his side.  

But in the end, he had misjudged. And he had paid the price for it.  

“I did take him seriously,” Cheng Peng admitted, pulling himself back from his thoughts.  

Jiang Yunjian’s expression froze for a moment before he forced out a response. “…. I know.”  

Cheng Peng continued, “But that was in the past. It ended two years ago, and it will never start again. There are no lingering ties, no old affections. As long as you don’t break up with me, I won’t even spare a glance at anyone else.”  

“I won’t break up with you,” Jiang Yunjian blurted out anxiously. “Never.”  

Cheng Peng chuckled and tapped his finger lightly against Jiang Yunjian’s cheek. “Don’t be so sure. What if you meet someone you like even more?”  

“I won’t.” Jiang Yunjian sounded certain.  

Cheng Peng studied him for a long time.  

Someone had once asked him why he could be so ruthless. The person he had once joked about getting a marriage certificate with—when he decided to end things, he had done so without even leaving a proper farewell.  

Now, he thought he finally understood.  

The feelings back then simply hadn’t been deep enough.  

He imagined, just for a moment, what it would be like if Jiang Yunjian ever betrayed him.  

His gaze darkened briefly before he quickly suppressed it.  

Lowering his head, he teased, “Do you think you got the short end of the stick?”  

Jiang Yunjian blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”  

“I mean, having only ever dated me. Do you regret it?”  

“How could I?” Jiang Yunjian sighed softly. “Being with you… it’s like winning the lottery.”  

Cheng Peng could vaguely sense that Jiang Yunjian was deeply fixated on him.  

He wasn’t sure when or where these feelings had taken root, but now that he was immersed in them, he found himself utterly indulging, wanting to return that love tenfold.  

——  

At midnight, Jiang Yunjian suddenly woke up from a nightmare.  

He had dreamed that Cheng Peng had kicked him out of the hotel room. Their relationship had never rekindled. They had never gotten back together.  

The dream was so terrifying that he couldn’t fall back asleep. He turned over and stared at the man beside him for a long time before quietly slipping out of bed.  

The bouquet of roses he had brought earlier was still standing on the coffee table in the living room. They had been too busy—too caught up in each other—to take care of them.  

Jiang Yunjian found an empty vase in the cupboard, cleaned it, and carefully arranged the champagne roses one by one.  

He had never cared for flowers before, nor had he ever tried arranging them. But the roses were naturally beautiful—no matter how carelessly he placed them, they still looked stunning.  

The flower shop he had visited today was decorated exquisitely. Even the small card that came with the bouquet was adorned with delicate floral illustrations.  

On the card, the meaning of champagne roses was written:  

“loving you is my greatest happiness. Missing you is my sweetest sorrow.”  

Bo Zhen had tried to persuade him countless times. The thing he had said the most was: “He’s not worth it.”  

But Jiang Yunjian never felt that way.  

Even if Cheng Peng had never looked at him, even if they had never ended up together, looking back on everything, this love still felt sweet.  

Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.