Inside a villa at Fleishan Manor.

Director Laman, who enjoyed a towering reputation outside, couldn’t even secure the best viewing spot in the middle of the sofa at home—and still had to serve the kids.

His two daughters had already claimed the center seats early, waiting for today’s “tiger-absorbing” content.

“Dad, hurry up!”

“Yeah, hurry up and let me see—what does Qian look like now?”

“He must have grown up, turned into an even more handsome big cat!” The younger girl twisted around and asked the lady of the house beside her, “Mom, is it really not okay to go to Dad’s set to see Qian? I promise I won’t reach out and touch him—I’ll stay far away. I know tigers are very strong and dangerous.”

“Right, if we pay attention to safety, can’t we still go see Qian?”

Even the older daughter asked this, looking at her mother with pleading eyes.

“No. You promised me—you can’t go back on your word.” The woman shot Laman a sharp look.

Laman immediately responded, “I swear to God, I didn’t go near Qian at all today. I was good—couldn’t be any better.”

“I know you’re worried, darling. I’ll keep my promise not to get close to Qian.” Laman finished setting up the TV. “Babies, stop talking. Come watch Qian.”

That’s right—there were three fans of Shi Qian in this household.

This all started with the entire Laman family binge-watching Morbis Realm.

The emotional impact of beautiful, strong, and tragic animal characters hits children even harder than adults. Will’s final fate truly brought tears. Watching his children cry was what sparked Laman’s initial script idea.

Once the idea took shape, Laman went to Morbis Realm’s director and got a large batch of behind-the-scenes footage of the white tiger during filming.

In those clips, Shi Qian fully displayed his powerful, uniquely tiger-ish charisma, successfully charming Laman’s entire household of “big-cat enthusiasts.”

Especially since the white tiger was still growing, the girls could play the role of “older-sister fans,” caring even more intensely. As everyone knows, “older-sister fans” are formidable.

As for Laman, after immersing himself in creation with a strong sense of identification, his affection—born of the role—only multiplied, all of it landing squarely on Shi Qian.

Seeing Merlin play ball with Shi Qian, both of Laman’s daughters let out sounds of envy.

“Qian doesn’t look fierce at all—he’s so gentle!”

“Adding one more person would be fine to play, right?”

Laman said, “Adding two should be fine too.”

He just happened to have two daughters.

Unfortunately, his wife shot him a worried, disapproving glance. Having once personally witnessed scenes of circus beasts injuring—and even killing—people, she could never quite put her heart at ease. So she’d drawn a strict line for both Laman and the girls.

To spare his wife daily worry, Laman was, of course, willing to follow her rules.

But his daughters weren’t as “well-behaved” as he was. So this old father could only bring back more “material” to satisfy their cravings.

The family of four replayed the clip of tossing the plush tiger several times. In the end, each girl received an identical plush tiger.

“Dad! You’re the best!”

“Who’s the best dad in the world? My dad—Laman!”

Laman said, “These are exclusive behind-the-scenes clips Daddy brought back. You have to behave at home and listen to Mom—then you’ll get to see even more…”

Aside from auditions for the main animal actors, there was simply too much else to handle for a film. Next, Laman would be plunged into endless rushing and busyness.

Soon after came the audition for the other human male lead.

Ross also participated.

Driven by remorse and effort, his acting saw a major breakthrough, and he even made it into the final shortlist for the male lead.

But Director Laman vetoed him with a single vote.

“What I need isn’t a Morbis Realm fan-made film.”

Hans’s money power ultimately lost to Laman’s persistence and could only be converted into investment, waiting for uncertain box-office returns.

Meanwhile, Delin managed to get hold of many premiere tickets.

His first starring role—and Shi Qian’s first big-screen experience—Apocalypse: Human-Serpent was about to be released.

At present, the film’s biggest traffic draw was Tiger Shi Qian himself.

Shi Qian never imagined that after just two days of work, there would come a day when he’d need to “carry” the film’s popularity.

But with nothing better to do, Shi Qian took Merlin along and followed Delin to the premiere to see what the fuss was about.

In theory, a premiere should have plenty of reporters, industry professionals watching the film, followed by entertainment news, film review columns, and related coverage.

But at the venue, Apocalypse: Human-Serpent had only a handful of reporters—and they were all there to photograph Shi Qian.

Thankfully, the director didn’t mind. Knowing Delin’s relationship with Merlin, he went all-in on riding Shi Qian’s popularity, even slipping red envelopes to the reporters and reminding them to mention Apocalypse: Human-Serpent by name.

After Shi Qian took quite a few photos, the director thanked him again, and the film simply began.

Low-budget films often struggle to achieve refinement in details.

But the difference between care and carelessness can open a vast gap.

Fortunately, Apocalypse: Human-Serpent was made with care.

Overall, the pacing was brisk. It tightly held onto Delin’s main arc of transforming from human to human-serpent, telling the story along that line. Coupled with the inherent tension of a post-apocalyptic setting, the story wasn’t bad at all. At a time when apocalyptic themes hadn’t yet become widespread, it even felt rather fresh.

At least, Shi Qian watched it very attentively—so much so that he temporarily forgot Delin was a friend sitting beside him, fully immersed in the film.

Until… the protagonist played by Delin—the human-serpent who protected humanity—was killed by the crowd after reaching the Island of Safety.

Even though the foreshadowing had been there, Shi Qian still closed his eyes and cursed the director once in his heart.

Damn it—killing the male lead?!

Fine. You’re impressive.

Before the male lead died, the warm memories featuring Shi Qian flashed again, giving the audience just a sliver of warmth. Then the film reached its final scene—the other humans on the Island of Safety also began to behave abnormally, just like the protagonist they had killed.

And so, Apocalypse: Human-Serpent ended neatly, with a hint of irony.

Amid the music, the lights came on. People whispered to one another, discussing the plot; some wore thoughtful expressions, lost in their own thoughts; there were also plenty of seats already vacated by those who had left early, the chairs no longer retaining any warmth.

Delin burst into tears, heart aching for the characters in the story.

The film’s director, however, wore a smile. The movie’s performance wasn’t bad! As long as it could make money, he could secure the next round of investment. Thank God.

Shi Qian shoved Delin’s face, making the tear-blurred, sorrowful Delin look up and see the director’s smiling face.

Delin widened his eyes: ?

The director pressed his lips together: ?

Shi Qian: “Roar.”

No need to thank me, hehe.

Merlin, who saw this scene, thought: Qian definitely didn’t do it on purpose—he just didn’t want Delin to be sad.

What bad intentions could a tiger possibly have?

As Apocalyptic Man-Serpent officially hit theaters, the box office ticked upward little by little. Merlin and Shi Qian finally received definite news: they could go sign the contract.

The signing was to take place at the company where Laman worked.

Speaking of which, Merlin had a psychological knot about this company. The film project that had once left her with no roles at all had been produced by this very company, and the person who had made things difficult for her was still sitting comfortably in upper management.

As they drove closer, Merlin’s expression grew unusually serious.

Just before they arrived, Sofia’s face could already be seen on a roadside billboard.

As a hugely popular young actress, Sofia had never lacked work. She’d recently landed another standout project, leaping over a crowd of stars to secure a luxury jewelry advertisement. Now she swayed gracefully on the billboard, displaying her unique beauty and charm.

Merlin couldn’t help but slow the car.

She felt a bit envious. “Sofia is really famous.”

Just like the dream of countless young women in Hollywood now—hers included, once upon a time.

But Merlin’s ambitions had mellowed considerably. Having come to terms with her own limitations, she no longer indulged in dreams, though a bit of envy was inevitable.

Shi Qian: “Roar-roar.”

It’s okay—your tiger is famous.

Merlin was also good at comforting herself. “I’m definitely better at cooking than she is. Maybe in the future I can open a restaurant and become a chef, right?”

Shi Qian nodded. Merlin truly was excellent when it came to food.

These days, she could whip up something delicious without much effort.

Thinking about food, Shi Qian reined in his drool and began fantasizing about what they’d eat once they got home.

Soon, Merlin drove into the parking garage and, with Shi Qian under supervision, approached the towering building.

The entire structure extravagantly featured an open atrium design. Each floor had a circular corridor, allowing people to look down at the crowds moving below.

As Merlin and Shi Qian crossed the first floor, they just so happened to fall into the sightlines of those upstairs.

Sofia’s expression turned inscrutable. She recognized the people passing below at a glance.

These days, anyone going out with a tiger—there were only a few possibilities, perhaps only this one. It was hard to mistake.

The older man standing beside her narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I’m going to be busy in a bit. Goodbye, my dear Sofia.”

He withdrew the hand that had been resting on Sofia’s waist.

Compared with the smooth, exposed back of the young woman, his hand looked old—like a length of faded white bark. Pampered living had left the “bark” still moist, but it couldn’t hide the marks of age. He was already old.

“Mr. John, what are you going to do? Does it have something to do with that tiger downstairs?” Sofia vaguely remembered hearing news about Laman’s film, but having just returned from shooting, she wasn’t entirely sure.

“That’s right. I need to sign a contract with that white tiger, and I’m planning to take a commemorative photo as well. Want to come along?”

“No need.” Sofia hesitated, then asked, “Don’t you remember that girl?”

“So it’s true—” Sofia turned around, looking toward the section of tiger’s tail disappearing below, and said pointedly, “Men really are forgetful philanderers.”

“Who was that?” John asked vaguely, not mentioning that he couldn’t see very clearly anymore—his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be.

Still, Sofia’s faintly jealous expression put him in an excellent mood, a smile spreading across his face.

“Then trouble our Sofia to remind me—who was she?”

“Just a girl who rejected you, before you met me.”

Said that way, John could gradually recall a young, beautiful face.

Among the many pretty young girls he’d seen, that one ranked highly in beauty.

What left a deeper impression, though, was the untainted clarity in her eyes—almost a touch of childish foolishness—paired with warmth and cheerfulness, youthful vitality rushing straight at him.

“I remember now.” John—who could fully be called an old man—looked at Sofia with a smiling gaze. “She was a girl with nothing but looks. You, on the other hand, are a future Best Actress.”

“Of course.” Sofia thought that if it came to acting, eighty Merlins put together probably wouldn’t compare to her.

Or perhaps the more, the worse—since the other’s acting was in the negatives.

A smile bloomed on Sofia’s innocent yet seductive face. She lifted her chin slightly, proud as a white swan in daylight.

“So I won’t mind. It’ll be just right to see whether she regrets rejecting our Mr. John back then.”

John’s interest was piqued. He understood the subtext of the girl’s words, thought for a moment, and nodded. “Alright. I’ll indulge you.”

Shi Qian and Merlin then received notice that the contract signing location had been changed to the floor with the president’s office. They followed the staff and continued upward.

Walking through the opened door, Merlin looked up and saw the smiling face of the older man. She froze for a long while before, from a vague sense of panic, recalling who he was.

A bad premonition rose straight to her heart.

Seeing that she hadn’t moved, Shi Qian nudged Merlin’s leg with his head.

He asked softly, “Roar…”

What’s wrong, Merlin?

Merlin snapped back to herself. With no time to respond to Qian, she turned to the staff member who had led them—someone who’d shown no malice along the way—and asked in a very quiet voice, “Excuse me… are we in the wrong place?”

“Of course not. This is President John,” the other replied, puzzled. “Mr. John has a very good relationship with Director Laman and has always liked investing in his projects.”

Merlin nodded, a chill creeping up her back.

Shi Qian lifted his head to look at the man Merlin was clearly wary of and disliked.

A white man, not young, with thinning blond hair. The skin from his face down to his neck carried a reddish tinge, the wrinkles giving him a perpetually tipsy look.

Shi Qian made a rather impolite guess—a pervert?

Seated in a spacious executive chair, John looked at the young woman who didn’t dare step inside. The smile on his face only grew wider.

He widened his eyes, looking at the girl before him with appreciation, seeing how she had grown more mature.

Her beautiful features were still there, though she seemed a little thinner—no longer as adorably youthful as before, yet now carrying an added charm of a mature woman.

The tension in her light-colored eyes was plain to see, clearly signaling her wariness toward him—like a rabbit that, even when touched, would still be soft and docile.

John interlaced his fingers and rested them on the desk, leaning forward slightly as he spoke, “Come in, please. Don’t block the doorway.”

“Please go in. You’re in the right place.”

Yet Merlin hesitated, even feeling an urge to turn around and leave.

But deep down she knew this opportunity was truly rare for Qian. Just as Lancel would never grow smaller again, Qian’s life would never return to this stage, and he might not be able to secure such a role so smoothly in the future.

Remembering that she had brought a lawyer with her, Merlin swallowed hard and, her mind going a bit blank, took two steps forward.

Then she suddenly reacted and blurted out, her voice rising, “Please don’t close the door.”

John nodded. “No need to close it.”

He tilted his chin, signaling the employee who had brought in the contract to leave after setting it down.

Things like this were far too common in Hollywood. The staff member placed the documents down, left the door open, and exited.

With the door left open, Merlin felt much more at ease.

She even lowered her head to stroke Shi Qian’s, forcing a small smile, hoping to reassure him and keep him from worrying about her odd behavior.

But that didn’t reassure Shi Qian at all.

He was certain Merlin knew the man in the room—and that this man had left her with very bad memories, which was why she was resisting so strongly.

What’s more, Shi Qian also caught the scent of another woman in the air—Sophia’s. She was likely in the small side room used for resting, adjacent to the office.

John picked up the documents, flipped through them briefly, and gestured to Merlin. “You’re Qian’s agent, right? You want to sign the contract, don’t you? Aren’t you going to take a look at it?”

Not hearing him call her by name, but instead using a generic title, Merlin thought with a hint of relief: maybe he really didn’t remember her anymore.

There were so many young, beautiful men and women in the entertainment industry—appearing more frequently than fish in rivers and seas. Forgetting someone who had nearly disappeared for several years was perfectly normal.

“Yes, I’ll look at it.”

Merlin turned to the lawyer she’d brought with her. “Sorry to trouble you, Ms. Nancy.”

Ignoring the strange atmosphere, the female lawyer stepped forward, preparing to take the documents.

But John pulled his hand back and looked at Merlin. “You look very afraid of me. Did I do something?”

“No… no. You didn’t do anything.”

Merlin felt even more convinced that he hadn’t recalled her at all.

“Then come over and take it yourself. I’ll trust you.”

Just as Merlin was about to step forward, Shi Qian stretched out a paw to block her, then strode ahead with steady tiger steps.

The young, agile tiger moved like a flash of thunder—within the blink of an eye, he was right in front of John.

Shi Qian pressed a paw down on the contract, then flicked it toward the lawyer.

Done.

John stared into the pair of ice-blue tiger eyes that gleamed indoors, and for a split second, he dared not breathe.

This kind of large animal looked powerful enough to take his life at any moment.

He had originally wanted to keep a photo as proof of his courage, but now he wondered whether it was worth taking the risk.

Still, such a beast was far too stirring—no man could resist it.

John leaned back against his chair without saying a word.

Because of nervousness and excitement, his face grew even redder. Adrenaline surged from the stimulation, leaving him in a state of subtle exhilaration.

Lawyer Nancy picked up the contract, sat down to the side, and began reviewing it professionally, trying to find any hidden traps.

Merlin let out a breath of relief and sat down beside Nancy.

Shi Qian followed her and crouched by her feet, giving her a sense of security.

Once they got home, Merlin would surely tell him the reason—but right now wasn’t convenient.

Seeing John rein himself in, Sophia, who had witnessed the white tiger ruin things from the side room, looked displeased.

But she knew John’s state well enough.

Her gaze quickly shifted to the Chinese-style display shelf in the room. Sophia took a metal object from it, pushed open the partition door, and walked out.

Smiling, she approached John and placed the gun into his hand.

“I entrust your safety to you, sir.”

“Mm… thank you.” One couldn’t deny that holding it did make him feel safer.

With that sense of security, John’s excitement remained, and a chilling danger flickered in his eyes.

Lawyer Nancy said quietly, “Please calm down, Mr. John. You wouldn’t want to be on tomorrow’s headlines, would you?”

Hollywood reporters dared to report anything.

“I know you, Nancy,” John said calmly. “I have a close relationship with your boss, and I also hold shares in your law firm.”

“Don’t worry. I have no dangerous intentions—I’m just holding this to protect myself.”

After explaining himself, John turned to Merlin. “I remember you. You’ve become even more beautiful.”

“You’re not acting anymore? That’s really a pity. Perhaps you could choose a script you like and continue being an actress.”

“The promise I made to you back then is still valid.”

He wasn’t afraid of these words being heard by the people in the room. Sophia was one of his own, Nancy could be controlled—and as for Merlin, this little rabbit escorted by a white tiger was still, at the end of the day, just a rabbit.

Sophia also spoke up pointedly at this moment. “I heard Director Laman has been arguing with the producers nonstop. I think, Mr. John, you could help mediate.”

Merlin’s heart pounded wildly.

Because of her refusal back then, she had indeed endured countless bouts of frustration, her career plunging straight to rock bottom.

That period had been extremely painful for her, plunging her into deep self-doubt.

She began obsessively chasing beauty, believing the rumors in the newspapers, thinking that becoming more beautiful was the only way out—because everything else was beyond her control.

Later, after meeting Qian and even falling into debt and hardship, looking back now, her life had been poor, but psychologically she hadn’t been in that much pain.

Her mind, guided and reshaped, had grown more active. She could recognize her own shortcomings and flaws.

She had grown up, become smarter, learned to solve problems and face pain—instead of sinking into self-inflicted torment like she had when she was younger.

Once Merlin thought all this through, she had her answer.

She only felt guilty about how this choice might affect Qian, and couldn’t help lowering her head to look at him.

Seeing that she hadn’t spoken for a long time and seemed lost in memories, John half-jokingly said to Sophia, “Of course I’m willing to mediate between Laman and the producers—though it would be best if this young lady were willing to show a bit of face.”

As he spoke, he turned his flushed face toward Merlin and said expectantly, “Hey, sweetheart, would you come over and say a few words?”

Shi Qian’s anger surged. He gathered what little—but sufficient—spiritual power he had, arched his body, and lunged forward.

In another blink, before John could even raise the weapon in his hand, he was smashed to the ground by a fierce tiger paw.

He fell together with his wide chair, the metal object flying far away. Sophia was knocked down as well, and a pile of documents swept down by Shi Qian struck her face, making her cry out in pain.

Remembering that John had a weapon, Merlin was startled. “Qian! ‘Sweetheart’ wasn’t referring to you!”

Shi Qian turned his head, his slightly rounded tiger chin tilting toward the doorway.

“Roar—”

Sweetheart Merlin, let’s go.

The contract isn’t even signed yet. Whoever wants this lousy show can have it.

There are countless ways to make money—no need to put up with this.

Shi Qian jumped down from the desk, bit onto the hem of Merlin’s dress, and led her outside.

Merlin turned away far more decisively than John and Sophia had expected. She even ran off side by side with the white tiger, smiling—like a happy little rabbit.

When a rabbit travels with a tiger, how could it ever fear wolves and jackals?

Miss Nancy shook her head with a chuckle and set down the contract she’d barely started reading.

“How could she dare—” Sophia still remembered that slum-like house and couldn’t believe Merlin had given up such an opportunity so easily.

Meanwhile, Merlin left the building she hated with her handsome tiger. Looking down, she realized yet another dress of hers was ruined.

She muttered softly, “Qian, you have to go buy me a new dress.”

Shi Qian’s eyes went wide. He shook his head vigorously, squeezing out a look of complete innocence.

“Roar—”

Thank God the mall doesn’t allow tigers inside.

Merlin is way too good at shopping. He’s scared.

Merlin covered her face, pretending to be sad. “You don’t want to accompany me—I’m so miserable today.”

Shi Qian leaned in to look at her.

You’d better really be able to cry.

Merlin tried to fake it, couldn’t keep it up, and burst out laughing, wrapping her arms around the white tiger’s neck.

Her young face rested against the white tiger’s equally young shoulder. “Qian, you’re really both good and bad! You’re the best friend in the world. I love you!”

Shi Qian was in a good mood too.

Wouldn’t it be unreasonable not to add two extra secret-recipe chicken legs for him tonight?