YJDNY - 26

Sometimes, things really do happen this way—pure coincidence.

Zhou Xingyan, of course, knew what Xiang Ge did for a living.

He had known from the very beginning.

So when she stood in the hospital corridor and told him she was a writer, he was genuinely curious.

Curious about what kind of waves she could create with her identity as a writer.

As it turned out, even if she did nothing, she could still make massive waves.

Zhou Xingyan held the script in his hand, leaning back into the sofa, his eyelashes lowered. He made no move to open it.

His mother watched him for a moment, leaning on the back of the sofa, before suddenly speaking up, “Take it with you.”

Zhou Xingyan raised his eyes.

“I have another copy in my study. You can take this one,” his mother said with a playful lift of her brows. “You won’t finish it anytime soon anyway. If you’re really interested, take it home and read it slowly.”

He didn’t respond.

His mother leaned over curiously, “I thought you came home because you missed your mom. What’s this all about? What’s keeping you hooked in this script?”

Zhou Xingyan raised his eyes, “There’s someone.”

His mother was surprised—she had only teased him casually, not expecting there actually was someone. “Who? Male or female?”

Zhou Xingyan hesitated briefly before answering, “A newcomer.” Then added, “A model.”

“The girl playing the lead role?” His mother blinked, her long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings, carrying a mischievous glint unusual for her age. “Are you interested in her?”

The lead role, huh?

He licked his lips and smiled faintly, “Maybe.”

A few days later, the new issue of SINGO magazine was released.

The overall tone was a mix of red and gray, blending Eastern and Western retro styles. The woman in the photos had jet-black hair, sharp, upward-slanting eyes, and full, dark red lips. Her presence commanded attention.

There was even an exclusive interview with her.

Xiang Ge flipped through it with wide eyes, marveling at the absurdity. “These magazine editors’ ability to exaggerate is truly something to behold.”

A few years of shooting print ads had somehow made her the “Queen of Print.” A handful of runway appearances had crowned her the “Runway Goddess.” And now, after just signing with Z, she was already labeled their exclusive model. Without saying much, an entire interview article had been spun out of thin air, artificially inflating a small-time model into a future top model.

At that moment, she was sitting in the保姆车 (nanny car), heading to the company, leisurely flipping through the magazine while muttering in disbelief.

Gong Mo, sitting in the front passenger seat, heard her and turned around expressionlessly. “I wrote the first draft of that. Since the cover personality needed an interview column, but I figured if you were interviewed, you wouldn’t say much.”

Xiang Ge choked, “Little Jasmine, are you sure you’re just my life assistant?”

Gong Mo: “Even these minor tasks can be handled by a life assistant.”

“…”

Can they?

Xiang Ge calmly accepted that her life assistant was some sort of omnipotent powerhouse and stopped questioning it. The car arrived at the company, and she closed the magazine. Her gaze absentmindedly flicked out the window.

A familiar figure in a light gray old coat caught her eye.

Her breath caught, and her heart skipped a beat.

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the glass, following the figure. Gray coat, light blue jeans, short-cropped hair, slightly hunched back.

She watched as he pushed open the company door and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Cocoon was set to officially begin filming next month. By now, Xiang Ge had very little work left. But as she entered the studio, her heartbeat was still racing.

Everyone already knew she had taken on the movie. The photographer wasn’t there yet, and the studio was eerily silent.

When she walked in, the group of people around Xu Yiqi started sneering at her, whispering among themselves.

Xiang Ge ignored them, scanning the room for Qiao Xin.

The girl wasn’t there.

At this time, she should’ve already arrived.

Xiang Ge flipped through her phone as she headed toward the makeup room. Just as she turned the corner, Qiao Xin emerged from the restroom, walking straight toward her.

The girl kept her head down, not noticing her.

Hearing footsteps, she instinctively stepped aside.

Xiang Ge walked over and stopped in front of her.

Qiao Xin looked up.

Under the bright corridor lights, her eyes were red, her lower eyelids swollen from crying. Her temples and hair were damp, and her pale face bore obvious, raised red marks.

Xiang Ge was stunned.

Qiao Xin also froze, panicking as she quickly covered her face with her hands and turned away.

Xiang Ge grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. Her expression remained calm, her voice flat, “Let go.”

Qiao Xin didn’t move.

Xiang Ge, not particularly gentle, pulled her wrist down and fixed her gaze on the red mark on her left cheek. Her eyes gradually darkened.

“Who?”

Qiao Xin didn’t speak, her large eyes wet with tears.

“Who hit you?” Xiang Ge pressed.

Qiao Xin reached for her wrist, “Gege…”

Xiang Ge narrowed her eyes, “Xu Yiqi?”

The girl remained silent.

Xiang Ge let out a cold laugh, released her grip, and turned to leave.

Qiao Xin panicked, lunging forward to grab her, pleading, “Gege, I’m fine now. Please don’t…”

But Xiang Ge had already snapped. She completely ignored her, forcefully prying off the hand gripping her and flinging it aside. With a stern expression, she strode toward the studio. Along the way, she passed Gong Mo without so much as a glance.

Xiang Ge knew that Qiao Xin sometimes got bullied by Xu Yiqi and her group.

Soft targets always get picked on—it’s universal. Qiao Xin’s timid nature made her an easy target not just here, but anywhere else too. This was something she’d have to toughen up against herself; others couldn’t help much.

But everything has its limits.

What was this—killing the chicken to scare the monkey? Did they think she wouldn’t speak up during her career rise?

Everyone has their breaking point.

Xiang Ge pushed open the studio door and walked in.

The photographer hadn’t returned yet. A few models were chatting with assistants preparing for the shoot. Standing at the entrance, Xiang Ge scanned the room and spotted Xu Yiqi.

She was standing by a corner table, drinking water.

Xiang Ge’s eyes darkened. She smirked emotionlessly, letting out a low “Hmph,” and strode over.

She moved quickly, purposefully, drawing everyone’s attention. When she reached Xu Yiqi, the latter just happened to look up.

Before Xu Yiqi could lower her cup, Xiang Ge snatched it from her hand and tipped it upward.

The entire warm cup of floral tea spilled onto Xu Yiqi, who screamed, instinctively closing her eyes as two petals stuck to her face and nose.

Before she could open her eyes, Xiang Ge had already tossed the cup aside and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her toward the center of the studio.

Everything happened so fast that no one had time to react.

Tea still in her eyes, Xu Yiqi couldn’t open them. She screamed, waving her hands wildly, but Xiang Ge easily dodged her, ruining her meticulously styled hair. Dragged forcefully forward, her high heels caught on nearby furniture, and she collapsed to the ground, her usual elegance shattered.

Expressionless, Xiang Ge dragged her to the center of the studio, kicked away a chair in the way, yanked her hair upward, leaned down, and spoke in a low, menacing tone, “Did you hit Qiao Xin?”

By now, Xu Yiqi had opened her eyes. She wiped them and tried to scramble up to retaliate.

Xiang Ge tightened her grip on her hair, pulling it upward. The searing pain on her scalp made Xu Yiqi scream, clawing at Xiang Ge’s forearm, her nails nearly digging into the flesh.

Xiang Ge didn’t let go. She forced Xu Yiqi’s head up, looking down at her drenched, disheveled face with an indifferent expression.

“Did you think Qiao Xin wouldn’t tell me?”

“Or that even if I found out, I’d stay silent like I always do?”

“Or that during my career rise, I wouldn’t dare confront you?”

Xu Yiqi never expected her to act directly.

The magazine cover was hers. The Z endorsement was hers. Now, stepping into the entertainment industry, she landed the lead role in a movie. How could that be?

Claiming she had no connection to Boss Song—only a fool would believe that.

She had been holding her breath for too long. For the Z endorsement, she had practically given everything, only for everything to end up being Xiang Ge’s.

The name Xiang Ge loomed over her like a massive shadow, constantly overshadowing her.

Xu Yiqi had assumed Xiang Ge wouldn’t speak up.

She was at a critical juncture. Next month was the press conference for Cocoon . At this crucial moment, no one wanted any negative news surfacing.

Moreover, it wasn’t even her business. When she provoked her before, Xiang Ge didn’t say a word.

With every sentence Xiang Ge spoke, she tightened her grip. Xu Yiqi’s scalp felt numb, her vision blurred with tears. Before she realized it, she heard a sharp “Slap!” Her head was jerked to the side, her face first feeling icy, then burning with pain.

Xiang Ge’s slap was clean, precise, and heavy. Xu Yiqi’s body tilted sideways.

She was stunned.

The studio fell silent. Those who usually sided with Xu Yiqi stayed quiet, except for Qiao Xin, who stood behind Xiang Ge, tugging at her sleeve pleadingly.

Xiang Ge ignored her, biting her tongue and smirking faintly, “I warned you before. As long as you didn’t cross the line, I could overlook it and not make a fuss.”

Her eyes darkened, brimming with violence, yet her words were soft, “But don’t keep pushing me.”

Even dragons have their scales.

From childhood to now, very few people had sincerely treated Xiang Ge well.

Small actions targeting her personally—if they didn’t go too far—she could ignore. But anything involving those close to her? No.

Even knowing it was wrong, even knowing it would cause trouble later, she simply couldn’t tolerate it.

The incident ended with a phone call from Song Zhi summoning Xiang Ge to his office.

When she entered, Gong Mo stood by the door, phone in hand, calmly welcoming her as if receiving royalty.

Qiao Xin looked worried, but Gong Mo dragged her away.

Watching their retreating figures, Xiang Ge gritted her teeth. Inside, Song Zhi barked for her to come in.

Xiang Ge quickly adjusted her expression, entering with apparent respect.

As soon as she stepped in, a crystal globe paperweight flew past her feet.

Without a word, Xiang Ge buried her head, gripping her wrist obediently.

Song Zhi stared at her feigned innocence, grinding his teeth in frustration. “Xiang Ge, you’ve really grown bold.”

Xiang Ge didn’t speak, lowering her head further.

“Do you even know what you’re doing? Fighting? Do you know what time it is? You dare fight in the studio?!”

“It wasn’t a fight,” Xiang Ge murmured softly.

“What do you mean?” Song Zhi demanded.

Xiang Ge touched the two red scratches on her forearm left by Xu Yiqi. Nearby, the spot where she had been cut by hospital glass hadn’t fully healed yet, fresh skin growing back, tinged with red.

“I hit her. She had no chance to fight back. It doesn’t count as a fight.”

Before her words finished, another crystal figurine—a white dove from the desk—smashed at her feet. Song Zhi’s face turned red with anger. “Should I congratulate you, then?!”

Xiang Ge bowed her head again, “No, Boss Song.”

Song Zhi could barely catch his breath, pointing shakily toward the door. “Get out. Leave.”

Xiang Ge peeked up at him cautiously, murmured an “Oh,” and obediently left.

Gong Mo followed her out. As soon as the door closed, Xiang Ge turned with a look of grievance.

Gong Mo pretended not to see it.

“Little Jasmine,” Xiang Ge complained, “Why did you secretly tattle on me?”

Gong Mo’s expression remained blank. “I didn’t tattle. I needed someone to help clean up your mess.”

Clearly.

She was angry.

Xiang Ge knew she had been too reckless this time. After watching her for a moment, she smiled, her eyelashes curving upward. She teasingly poked her arm. “Little Jasmine, come to my place this afternoon. I’ll make sushi rolls for you.”

Gong Mo ignored her, walking straight out.

Xiang Ge followed behind, poking incessantly, but to no avail. The stoic-faced lolita assistant seemed determined to teach her a lesson, refusing to acknowledge her completely.

Helpless, Xiang Ge obediently returned to the studio to finish filming.

Throughout the morning, she didn’t see Xu Yiqi again.

After finishing work in the afternoon, Xiang Ge went home. No sooner had she stepped inside than her phone rang.

She didn’t rush to answer, lazily flipping through her phone as she slipped on her slippers. She glanced at the caller ID.

Walking inside, she answered with a “Hello,” glancing at the wall clock as she asked, “Aren’t you working today?”

On the other end, Zhou Xingyan didn’t speak.

Thinking the signal might be bad, Xiang Ge said “Hello” again.

After a few seconds, his voice came through, low and hoarse, sounding a bit off. “You’re home?”

Xiang Ge blinked, “Yes, I’m home.”

Zhou Xingyan hummed, “I’ll come find you after work.”

Xiang Ge let out an “Eh,” pausing as she processed what he had just said.

Surprised, her eyes widened, and after a moment, she smiled, her lips curving. “Senior Zhou missed me, huh?”

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

A long pause.

Against the quiet background, Zhou Xingyan’s voice came through, low and subdued. “Yes, I missed you.”