Chapter 85: World Two [55] Part 2

All she remembered was to ask that one question, and to open the box with the ring, placing it in front of Jing Ke.

“Huh?” Jing Ke was stunned too. She had thought Shao Qing’s surprise would be some special outfit and then letting Jing Ke personally help her put it on.

“What did you just say?” Jing Ke, also uncharacteristically nervous, worried she had misheard.

“Will you marry me?” Shao Qing repeated, her tone much calmer this time than before.

“I originally thought about inviting some people to decorate the place while we were at the movies. But then I thought it over. The two of us being together is our own matter; whether we have witnesses or not doesn’t seem all that important.”

“And I’m already thirty. I think I’ve reached the age to hold a wedding,” Shao Qing continued. “I admit, at the very beginning, I had many doubts about you, and I even agreed to sign the contract partly with the idea of using you.”

“But now I’ve come to understand my own heart. I like you, and I want to be with you forever.” Shao Qing paused.

“I know you had an ex-girlfriend. I’m self-aware enough to know I can’t completely let it go. Before you make your decision, I’ll give you three minutes to think. After you accept my proposal, I’ll still get jealous when I should. If we fight in the future, I might still bring up your ex-girlfriend and parade her out.”

“But I’ve felt your love for me. If you can love me consistently for years and years, I’ll work hard to curb my jealousy.” Shao Qing didn’t know what to say now, so she just took the chance to say everything she wanted.

“I’m not a generous person. If you say yes to me, until my last breath, you can only love me, and you can’t leave me for any reason.” Shao Qing stated.

“And don’t confuse me with anyone else, especially saying I resemble someone.” Shao Qing emphasized, as if she wasn’t the one doing the proposing but rather the one being proposed to, so she rattled off a string of demands.

Shao Qing: “If you leave me, I might lose some of my rationality and do something irrational. So you need to answer me very carefully. I won’t give you a chance to regret it.”

“I do.” Jing Ke eagerly gave her promise, even extending her left hand.

“In this world, I only like and love you. You are the reason I exist. Without you, the me of now wouldn’t be here.” Jing Ke said, word by deliberate word.

This was the promise she could give. Actually, Jing Ke had secretly prepared a proposal as well.

Though her timing was for August, on Shao Qing’s birthday, Jing Ke had also planned to give a custom-made ring.

“That’s more like it.” Shao Qing curved her lips, took out the ring, and slipped it onto Jing Ke’s hand.

“Jing Ke, from today on, you are mine, the possession of me, Shao Qing.” Shao Qing declared, unable to resist leaving a kiss mark on Jing Ke’s fair hand.

“Alright.” Jing Ke solemnly agreed.

Seeing Shao Qing about to take out her phone for a photo, Jing Ke promptly added, “I also prepared a ring for you. Want to put it on and take the photo together?”

“You prepared a ring too?” Shao Qing paused, reacting almost immediately. “So you were planning to propose to me as well?”

Jing Ke nodded. “I wanted to propose on your birthday.”

“No way, I’d already be thirty-one by then. Feels like I’d have gotten so much older,” Shao Qing said with a serious face. “And if the proposal day is the same as my birthday, I’d lose one anniversary every year.”

“That’s my fault for not thinking it through,” Jing Ke obediently admitted.

“Seeing as your heart was in the right place, I won’t hold it against you. Go get your prepared ring and put it on me.” Shao Qing, having gained the upper hand, became magnanimous, her smile growing even brighter.

Jing Ke clasped Shao Qing’s hand with her ringed one and led her to her former bedroom—the guest bedroom on the 2nd Floor.

Under Shao Qing’s gaze, Jing Ke pulled a beautifully packaged jewelry box from the nightstand. Opening it one-handed, a ring set with a fifty-two-carat pink gemstone appeared before their eyes.

“I commissioned someone to acquire this a while back. It took some time for the crafting, so I only received it last month,” Jing Ke explained briefly.

Shao Qing looked at the huge pigeon-egg-sized gem on her own finger, then at Jing Ke’s somewhat modest diamond ring, and fell silent for a moment.

After about two minutes, Shao Qing exhaled. “Indeed, comparisons are inevitable. I picked the largest diamond ring in the store, but of course it can’t hold a candle to this.”

“No, I like it very much. Whatever you give me, I like and am very satisfied,” Jing Ke said.

“It’s fine. I’m just marveling. After all, you’re Boss Jing, and I’m just an ordinary actor.” Shao Qing said, glancing at the ring again.

Though her nearly one-million-yuan ring couldn’t compare to what Jing Ke had given her, this pink diamond was truly beautiful. Her hand suddenly looked so much more luxurious.

“Should we take a photo and announce it publicly?” Jing Ke asked.

“Let’s not rush. I think there’s a more fitting time and place to announce the news that we’re getting married,” Shao Qing dispelled her earlier thought.

“When?” Jing Ke asked.

“If everything goes smoothly for Song Xiaocao, probably at the end of the year,” Shao Qing smiled, not deliberately hiding it.

After all, today was the first day of Song Xiaocao’s release. Announcing the news now would steal the spotlight and rob Song Xiaocao of the heat it deserved.

So, it would be best to publicly announce it after Song Xiaocao received the honors it deserved!

Regarding Shao Qing’s decisions, Jing Ke always raised both hands in approval. A thought even popped into her mind: she could go bid for a blue diamond next, then have it crafted into a ring she could wear.

Red and blue have always been considered a matching pair—that saying was quite popular after all.

As soon as Song Xiaocao was released, it sparked huge online debates. The vice president shielded by academic cliques bore the brunt first; after he was taken away by the police, netizens’ attention shifted back to the four words: son preference.

[The Qing dynasty fell over a hundred years ago. Why do so many people still favor sons over daughters? The country has been promoting that boys and girls are equal for eight hundred years.]

[Promoting is one thing, but the actual effect… let’s just look at the gender ratio to see.]

[Why are there tens of millions of surplus single men now? Because tens of millions of baby girls were robbed of their lives at birth, or even before.]

[Stop spouting nonsense about women not matching up to men. That’s such a rogue argument. Men get all the good stuff, and then they turn around and mock women for being weak. It’s sickening.]

[Are those claiming that Song Xiaocao vilifies men missing a few brain cells? This is all adapted from reality, alright?]

[There’s no need to argue with people who aren’t using their brains. They’ll just think that a rural middle-aged woman who drinks and commits domestic violence is the correct artistic touch, but when domestic abusers, bullies, and nepotism men are portrayed, that’s malicious slander against men.]

[Ah yes, yes, all good things are sons, and all bad things are little girls.]

Although Jing Ke used her tech skills to ban many accounts maliciously stirring up conflict, there was no shortage of people in reality with insufficient brains. They were easily led by the tide, with a single claim that Song Xiaocao was maliciously slandering men, and even called for a boycott of the film.

But the increase in screenings and the climb to number one in daily box office made those boycotts a complete joke.

Seeing that the related arguments wouldn’t die down, the General Administration, under higher instruction, publicly backed Song Xiaocao. They also further refined internet civility standards and announced that certain accounts maliciously spreading rumors would face administrative penalties.

This administrative penalty was no joke—it would be recorded on your file and follow you for life.

Of course, to prevent this authority from being abused, many rules were added to the details, such as publicly disclosing the specific reasons and results of the penalty.

To sum up: multiple departments would jointly enforce, and those penalized could raise objections; it wasn’t a case of being hammered down with one blow.

After the official intervention, major platforms responded in kind. Without Jing Ke needing to lift a finger, they pulled their programmers to work overtime developing new features.

Generally, a film’s screening period is one month.

Box office revenues typically concentrate in the first two weeks; from the third week onward, they start to decline, and theaters accordingly reduce the number of showings.

But Song Xiaocao seemed to be an exception. With ten percent of screenings and a seventy-five percent seat occupancy on the first day, it became a dark horse of the summer.

It went from a niche subject film to a hot, blockbuster hit. Even in the third and fourth weeks, its box office held strong—though it couldn’t hit a hundred million, several tens of millions were no problem, outperforming some newly released films.

Theaters split revenue with the producers, so the more the film earned, the more the theaters made. Thus, seeing Song Xiaocao’s box office still going strong, theaters applied for a key extension, tacking on an extra fifteen days.

Jing Ke had predicted what some netizens and paid trolls would complain about. On the day the key extension was announced, she declared that all profits from the film would be donated to support women like Song Xiaocao, giving them a chance to change their own destinies.