MTL - 12

Tang Yu, I’ve pinned your chat window.

Even if you don’t send me a message, the first thing I see when I open WeChat is you.

— From the Diary of a Little Rich Girl

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Tang Xin began serializing novels on websites during her freshman year of college. She used the pen name “Sugarheart,” a phonetic play on her real name. Her writing style was incredibly free-spirited; she never followed market trends and wrote whatever came to mind, often with quirky and unconventional ideas. Surprisingly, this approach made her unexpectedly popular.

By now, her Weibo followers had surpassed one million.

Her most popular work was A Dream For You . A few years ago, when print media was still thriving, the book became a bestseller upon release and went through multiple reprints. Naturally, it caught the attention of several film companies.

Tang Xin hadn’t signed with any platforms, retaining full copyright to all her works. Many film companies approached her about purchasing the rights, but she refused every offer.

Some assumed she was deliberately driving up the price, but she simply stated, “If it doesn’t feel right, I won’t sell.”

That’s how capricious she was.

Given her affluent background, she didn’t need the money to survive. If she didn’t feel like selling, she wouldn’t. It wasn’t until just before graduation that Shiguang Films approached her, offering a price higher than any previous bids.

Without hesitation, Tang Xin sold the rights.

Why? Because she’d seen pictures of Shiguang Films’ newly appointed CEO online—and he was very handsome. At the time, Tang Yu was only twenty-three or twenty-four, and while his appearance hadn’t changed much since then, his demeanor was different. The man exuded an aura of meticulousness and aloofness, like fine wine—growing richer with time.

However, she hadn’t expected that Shiguang Films would simply sit on the IP for nearly four years without making any moves to adapt it into a project.

She assumed the book would never make it to the screen.

Never in her wildest dreams did she think Director Lu Zhixing would take an interest in it.

Tang Xin hesitated for a moment before sending Lu Zhixing a meme of a face peeking out from behind a wall: “Hello, Director Lu. A Dream For You still has a little over a month before its contract expires. Are you planning to film it or buy it back?”

After sending the message, she changed his contact name in her phone to something easier to remember.

Lu Zhixing: “I don’t hoard copyrights.”

He rarely adapted works with existing source material. He had a stable team of collaborating screenwriters and crew members and often participated in writing scripts himself—a true all-around director. His most recent film, which had just wrapped, was written by him.

Lu Zhixing: “Think it over. Once you’ve decided, give me an answer—or set up a meeting to discuss further.”

Tang Xin was both flattered and hesitant. Lu Zhixing was a renowned director who had won numerous awards. His earlier works were mostly artistic films aimed at accolades, while his more recent ventures into commercial cinema had garnered solid box office returns and critical acclaim—they wouldn’t flop.

Moreover, he had a fixed pool of collaborating screenwriters, so his direct outreach was quite rare.

Other eighteen-line screenwriters might have immediately jumped at the opportunity, but Tang Xin hesitated. If anyone were to adapt the work, she still preferred it to be Shiguang Films.

Unfortunately, after sitting idle for four years, there was no sign of Shiguang Films moving forward with the project. Father Tang didn’t seem interested in filming it.

What if Father Lu could lift her career instead?

She could leap from being an eighteen-line nobody to breaking into the top three tiers!

Cross-legged on the sofa, Tang Xin calculated her options. Why hadn’t Tang Yu given her a chance? If the movie became a hit, she wanted to see his regretful expression. Imagining Tang Yu’s remorse brought a smile to her face. After indulging in the fantasy, she replied to Lu Zhixing: “Alright, let me think about it.”

Lu Zhixing: “Good, I’ll wait for your response.”

________________________________________

At five o’clock in the evening, Tang Yu left the office. He had a dinner appointment that night with Chen Han, the president of Jiayi Media. Shiguang Films and Jiayi Media had co-produced numerous films and TV dramas over the years, maintaining a strong partnership. However, Jiayi had shifted its focus in recent years toward grooming new talent.

Tang Yu understood the purpose of this dinner. Chen Han wanted to collaborate on a new project and intended to push a few of his own artists into the cast.

As expected, Chen Han brought up the topic during the meal. Holding his wine glass and looking at Tang Yu, he smiled. “How’s this? Our side has been doing well these past few years. The young actresses and idols we’ve promoted have decent acting skills—they’re not just pretty faces.”

Tang Yu lounged casually in his chair, swirling his glass of red wine and smiling faintly. “Nothing’s finalized yet. We’ll see if the roles suit them when the time comes.”

Chen Han, thirty-five years old and a few years older than Tang Yu, ran a company that lagged behind Shiguang Films. Despite his seniority, he still had to tread carefully. He chuckled. “Alright, once the project is confirmed, I’ll treat President Tang to another meal.”

Tang Yu took a sip of his red wine, his expression indifferent as he smiled faintly.

After the meal ended, Chen Han said, “President Tang, there’s another gathering. The CEO of Zhongce will be there too. Want to join us for some fun?”

Such gatherings usually involved inviting a few minor celebrities to entertain guests. Having been in the industry for so long, Tang Yu was well aware of this. Without revealing his disdain, he smiled faintly. “No thanks, I’ve got a little kitten waiting for me at home to feed.”

A kitten?

Chen Han paused, taken aback.

Tang Yu had already turned and walked away. Standing in place, Chen Han turned to his assistant and asked, “Has Tang Yu started dating someone recently? Or maybe he’s keeping a lover?”

The assistant shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything. Maybe it’s a real cat?”

Chen Han sneered. “A busy man like him, living alone in an apartment—how could he possibly keep a cat? It’s either a girlfriend or a lover. Everyone in this circle plays around. Don’t let his composed exterior fool you. I bet he’s wild behind closed doors—he’s just good at hiding it.”

Indeed, Tang Yu was eager to get home to feed the kitten. The previous night, Tang Dingding had promised to pick up the cat herself, knowing his apartment password. But the spoiled girl had forgotten after going out of town and was now stuck in traffic on the highway, still two hours away.

If he didn’t return soon, the poor kitten might starve.

Once in the car, the man loosened his tie and told the driver, “Let’s go.”

Half an hour later, Tang Yu opened the door to his apartment, flicked on the living room light, and immediately sensed something amiss. The tiny kitten had escaped its box and was now furiously scratching at his meticulously chosen leather sofa, digging into it like it was dirt.

Pillows lay scattered on the floor, magazines and newspapers from the coffee table strewn about—the entire living room was a mess.

Tang Yu stood at the doorway: “….”

He pursed his lips, his brow twitching slightly. Striding over, he picked up the mischievous kitten.

The little creature, likely famished, was in a foul mood entirely different from the previous night. It growled fiercely, emitting pitiful meows as it writhed in his grip. Hearing its cries, Tang Yu hesitated, thinking he might have hurt it, and quickly released his hold.

To his surprise, the fluffy kitten pounced on his hand, sinking its claws in deeply.

Tang Yu frowned, hissing softly as he instinctively shook his hand free.

The kitten, resembling a furry ball, tumbled back onto the sofa, rolling once before lying dazed. Its blue eyes glistened with a pathetic plea as it stared at Tang Yu.

Tang Yu glanced at the scratches on the back of his hand. Two deeper ones were slowly seeping blood. Clenching his jaw, he averted his gaze and exhaled deeply.

What the hell was going on?

Frustrated, he listened to the kitten’s incessant meowing. After a while, he reluctantly retrieved the last bit of cat food and poured it into a bowl. Upon hearing the sound, the kitten darted over, burying its fluffy head in the bowl and happily devouring the food.

Tang Yu glared down at the scene, loosening his tie with one hand and deftly unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt.

Turning back to the sofa, he surveyed the ruined leather, his lips curling into a cold smirk. He pulled out his phone, snapped a photo of the chaos, and sent it to Tang Dingding.

Tang Dingding was still stuck in traffic on the highway. With many people heading out of town for the weekend, the roads were predictably congested on the way back.

Seeing the message, her heart sank. “The cat… scratched it?”

Tang Yu: “Who else?”

Tang Dingding: “….”

She quickly typed a reply: “I’m coming back right away! I promise I’ll be there by 11 PM! Take the cat with you!”

Terrified that Tang Yu might throw the cat out or worse, she hastily added reassurances: “I’m still stuck in traffic, but things should clear up soon. Please wait for me! It’s just a cat—don’t be too hard on it, okay? The sofa… I’ll compensate you. I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow!”

That sofa was ridiculously expensive, and even mentioning it made her wince internally.

Tang Yu ignored her rambling. Glancing at his scratched hand and then at the mysterious kitten, he sat back on the sofa, leaning against it. Frowning, he muttered under his breath, “Damn.”

His phone buzzed again.

He glanced down and saw Tang Xin’s profile jump to the top of his chat list.

Little Rich Girl: “Daddy Tang.”

Tang Yu: “….”

When Tang Xin didn’t receive a response, she sent a meme of a cute kitten—her own Chinchilla, photoshopped into an adorable sticker.

Seeing the image, Tang Yu felt a pang of irritation. Holding his phone in one hand, he glanced at the scratches on his hand and typed, “Do I need a vaccine if I’ve been scratched by a cat?”

He had never owned a cat, nor had anyone in his household before. His knowledge of such matters was vague—he wasn’t sure if vaccinations were mandatory.

Seeing the message, Tang Xin immediately asked, “You were scratched by a cat?”

Recalling his earlier question about her cat’s breed, she hesitated. “Did you get a cat?”

Could that be possible?

Tang Yu owning a cat?

Impossible. Tang Xin shook her head but couldn’t help letting her imagination run wild.

Patiently, Tang Yu replied: “Found it.”

Found it?!

Scratches from a house cat were one thing, but a stray? Who knew if it carried diseases!

Tang Xin immediately called him. Seeing the incoming call, Tang Yu narrowed his eyes and answered.

Tang Xin blurted out, “You were scratched by a stray cat? You need to get it checked! Where did it scratch you? And…” She paused, lowering her voice. “Are you alone at home?”

Tang Yu glanced at the now-fed kitten licking its tail contentedly. His tone grew impatient. “And the kitten.”

Tang Xin: “….”

She immediately dropped her iPad, rushed into her room, and frantically opened her closet. Her fingers flew across the hangers, pulling out two outfits and tossing them onto the bed. Kicking off her lounge pants, she slipped into jeans, hopping around as she adjusted the waistband. Despite the chaos, her voice remained calm. “Listen, if it’s a healthy house cat, it should be fine. But a stray is different—it could be sick. That’s dangerous. I know how to handle this. First, rinse the wound with water—I’m coming over to check. Just… wait for me.”

Without waiting for Tang Yu’s response, she hung up.

Afraid of rejection.

Tang Yu lowered his phone, staring at the black screen.

Had he invited her over?

Leaning back on the sofa, he recalled her worried tone. Was she truly that concerned about him? Did she really like him?

When had it started?

Tang Yu thought back, guessing it must have been within the past few months. He hesitated briefly over whether to tell her not to come, but ultimately tossed his phone aside and headed to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

________________________________________

Tang Xin drove over. She lived nearby, so it took only about ten minutes.

She knew the neighborhood Tang Yu lived in but not the exact building. Entering required registration, which was a hassle.

She called Tang Yu. “Tang Yu, which building do you live in?”

Tang Yu paused momentarily when he heard her use his name. “Building 12, 15th floor. Park downstairs.”

“Got it.” Tang Xin said, “Wait for me, okay?”

Five minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Through the security camera, Tang Yu saw her standing there—backpack slung over her shoulders, oversized white sweater, jeans, and her soft, shoulder-length hair framing her small, pale face. Suddenly, she looked up at the camera and flashed a sweet smile. “I’m here.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he buzzed her in.

Tang Yu lived in a high-end apartment building with private elevators that opened directly into his unit.

When Tang Xin stepped out of the elevator, she noticed the door was already slightly ajar. Her heart raced with nervous excitement as she tiptoed inside. This was her first time visiting Tang Yu’s place, and she felt both thrilled and apprehensive. Slowly pushing the door open, she stepped into the foyer, her eyes darting around until they landed on a pristine white Chinchilla lounging on the coffee table.

The cat looked clean and well-groomed—not at all like a stray.

“T… President Tang,” she stammered nervously.

“Come in,” he replied coolly.

Tang Yu emerged from the kitchen, still wearing the same white shirt and suit pants, though his tie had been discarded and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. Compared to earlier in the day, he appeared more relaxed.

Tang Xin slipped off her shoes and walked in. Without hesitation, she approached him. “Let me see your hand.”

Tang Yu glanced at her before raising his hand slightly. Several scratches marred the back of his hand, two of which had clearly bled.

Tang Xin winced upon seeing them. Without thinking, she cupped his hand gently between her own.

Tang Yu froze for a moment but didn’t pull away.

His hand was still damp from rinsing, and the coolness made her fingertips tremble slightly. She stared at the angry red scratches, her brows furrowing as her expression turned serious. Biting her lip, she lightly touched the wounds with her fingers.

Tang Yu watched her through half-lidded eyes, feeling strangely uncomfortable. He withdrew his hand abruptly. “Why are you so close?”

Tang Xin grinned mischievously, tilting her head up. “I was just wondering if I should lick it for you—saliva has disinfectant properties, you know.”

Tang Yu: “….”

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Author’s Note:

Little Rich Girl: Daddy Tang, let me disinfect it with my saliva (?▽? ).

Daddy Tang: ….

I’m exhausted, writing late into the night without realizing the time…

My heart’s racing—I can’t stop thinking about writing a kissing scene…