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A black Maserati Quattroporte was parked by the roadside. The woman in the driver’s seat, wearing sunglasses, pursed her red lips tightly. Her slender fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel. Tilting her head slightly, she heard her assistant still screaming through the Bluetooth earpiece: “Sis, doesn’t the navigation work? Really not at all? The central exhibition hall is super easy to find!!”
The woman looked at the prompt on the screen indicating that she had arrived at her destination. She said, “Fiona, just tell me whether to turn left or right.”
Her assistant was utterly exhausted. “Sis, which direction did you come from? Renmin Road or Heping Road?”
The woman thought about it carefully, though only for a second, and replied nonchalantly, “I don’t remember.”
“Good Lord... Which way is the front of the car facing? Why don’t you ask for directions? I told you to bring a driver...”
The woman chuckled. “Fiona, between left and right, which do you prefer?”
“I’m losing my mind,” the assistant muttered, on the verge of a breakdown.
From behind the car came a thud; the vehicle didn’t budge an inch.
The woman raised her eyelids and glanced at the rearview mirror.
Through her sunglasses, she saw a tall, striking figure in fiery red straighten up a bicycle, frozen at the back of the car. Smirking, she softly said, “Fiona, I’ve been hit.”
Even a car parked quietly by the roadside could be hit. This ‘culprit’ really had terrible luck.
The assistant panicked. “What?! Is it serious? Sis, don’t get out of the car—I’ll send Xiao Pi to handle it.”
“It’s fine, I don’t care,” the woman said. “Besides, it’s just a bicycle… Oh, here they come.”
The fiery red figure parked the bicycle, removed the earphones, took out paper and pen, scribbled a note, and then walked over gracefully with long, confident strides. Each step seemed to match a rhythm as he approached the passenger side, intending to slip the note onto the car window. But when he leaned down to peek inside and saw someone, he froze, his eyes slowly widening.
His handsome features, high ponytail, and bold demeanor were impressive.
His fashion sense was impeccable—red outfit paired with silver armor and high boots.
Pleasing to the eye.
The woman softly whistled. “Fiona, this might be a model. Great body, great presence.”
She rolled down the passenger-side window and drawled, “It’s okay, relax. I have insurance.”
The person was clearly taken aback. The note with contact information, held between slim fingers, hovered mid-air, unsure whether to retract it or not.
The smiling woman gazed at the ‘culprit’s’ face. Suddenly, she sat up straight and murmured, “No... wait.”
The ‘culprit’ spoke. “Thank you... Are you sure there’s no need for compensation?”
His voice was deep, a perfect baritone.
The woman leaned over, pushed her sunglasses down, and examined him closely. Her smile grew more pronounced. “A man?”
Indeed, a man.
The woman almost whistled in his face.
“Oh, yes,” the culprit calmly explained, probably used to such situations. He glanced at his fiery red military costume. “There’s an event at the exhibition center. I’m here for a comic convention.”
The female military uniform he wore was the iconic image of Qin Ying, a popular character from Six Realms Commander , the most popular online game developed by Dongshi Technology.
Judging from the car owner’s appearance and demeanor, the culprit guessed she wasn’t someone who played these games. So he added, “This is... for the comic con. Please don’t think I’m weird.”
The woman nodded, put away her sunglasses, lazily crooked a finger, signaling him to get in the car, and drawled, “Since you’re a man... then you should compensate.”
Her teasing smile slanted toward him, watching his expression change.
The culprit’s eyes widened further, a hint of cuteness leaking through his indignation. Clutching the car doorframe, he wanted to be angry but didn’t dare to overstep. “Do you have gender discrimination?”
Didn’t she say earlier that no compensation was needed? He had scraped her car—a Maserati Quattroporte worth over a million—and a high-end model at that. Even though he anticipated the maintenance costs would be steep, he had proactively offered to pay for repairs. Yet she had said it was fine, no compensation needed. Now she changed her mind—what did she mean by “since you’re a man, then you should compensate”?
“Get in the car,” the woman snatched the note he was holding mid-air, glanced indifferently at the contact information, and set it aside. “Let’s discuss how you’ll compensate.”
Her tone brooked no refusal, even though she hadn’t issued any commands.
The culprit lowered his gaze, hesitated for a moment, then obediently opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.
The woman ended the call, cutting off her assistant’s nagging about the dangers of letting strangers into the car.
The culprit sighed. “Just tell me how much I need to pay.” This kind of car... a Maserati Quattroporte—he recognized it. Maintenance and repairs required overseas shipping.
The traffic light turned green.
The woman started the car, and with a click, all four doors locked. She extended a hand, pulled the passenger seatbelt across, gesturing for the bewildered culprit to fasten it. Then she floored the gas pedal, skillfully weaving into the traffic flow. “Left or right?”
The entire sequence was quick and agile, reminiscent of a seasoned kidnapper.
The culprit was visibly startled. She hadn’t said where they were going, but he naturally responded, “...Right.”
Sure enough, after a turn, they arrived at the central exhibition hall downtown. The woman chuckled softly, her breathy laugh tingling with an unexpected charm.
She smoothly parked the car in the designated area. “Get out. I’ve arrived.”
“What about the compensation...” the culprit asked tentatively.
The woman laughed cheerfully. “You’re so honest. No need. You helped me with directions—that counts as compensation.”
What had he done? All he’d said were two words: “turn right.”
The culprit blinked. “Really?” Could two words carry such weight?
“Mm-hmm.” Seeing his hesitation, the woman leaned over to unbuckle his seatbelt, then opened the car door for him. The culprit wanted to push her away but dared not touch her, stumbling out of the car in a daze.
The woman put on her sunglasses, slipped into her black suit jacket, slammed the car door shut, turned her head, gave him one last smile, and strode away with effortless flair.
Coming back to his senses, the culprit sighed. “That’s what I call a true CEO.”
Smooth as flowing water, commanding and powerful, her gaze like a black panther… These days, young women are walking the path of domineering CEOs—so captivating.
He pulled out his phone from the hidden pocket on his belt. Only then did he realize the live stream had been running the entire time.
The screen was flooded with chaotic bullet comments:
“He got in the car, he actually got in the car!”
“The fairy is so easy to fool, haha!”
“Spread the word, our fairy finally has a chance to strike it rich!”
“I want to see what the female car owner looks like...”
“Can anyone tell me what car he hit?”
“Maserati QP! Our fairy is going to get rich!”
“Or maybe lose money, lol.”
“Just finished looking up the model online, shivering...”
“The car owner is a real CEO—she didn’t even ask for compensation. Generous.”
“Maybe she realized our fairy can’t afford to pay even if he sells himself... Sigh, too poor.”
And a barrage of: “Your bicycle, fairy!”
“Bicycle!! Worrying us mothers to death... My son’s memory...”
“Bicycle!!”
“Are you abandoning your bike?!”
“Forget the bike! We want to see the real car! Go go go!”
“Don’t worry, his bike isn’t worth stealing—it rattles everywhere except the bell.”
“In front, it’s worth twenty bucks as scrap metal... Our fairy is poor, gotta save up.”
“Bicycle: Sniff sniff, shameless. Promised riches, but got into a new car and forgot the old one...”
Only then did the culprit remember his bicycle. Panic struck him like thunder. “My bike!”
He hadn’t locked it!
So, in the plaza outside the exhibition hall, a long-haired beauty in fiery red military attire sprinted across with long, graceful strides.
On the phone screen, a few bullet comments flew by: “Girls, I’m at the comic con! I saw our fairy—he’s sprinting at 180 km/h! Whoosh, leaving afterimages...”
“That’s Qin Ying in retreat mode, just a bit flat-chested, lol. Want to send him a link for C-cup silicone implants.”
“Legs legs legs—so long [drool][drool][drool]. I’m dead...”
Today, Dongshi Technology and Longyi Technology were announcing a new collaboration project. Security personnel swarmed the venue.
At the entrance registration desk, the staff asked the tall figure in fiery red military attire, “Do you have a reserved booth?”
“Yes, Zone C, Booth 124.”
The staff flipped through the registry and found the reservation. “Luo Mingjing? Yourself? Show me your ID.”
“Hmm.”
The staff handed over a pen. “Sign here.”
After Luo Mingjing left, the staff showed the registry to a colleague. “Isn’t this handwriting beautiful?”
“Wow... Beautiful!” the colleague exclaimed. “Who is this? Looks like a mixed-race person!”
“Never seen them before...” the staff member replied. “I thought they were a cosplayer—the outfit is Qin Ying’s triumphant return attire, highly accurate. But they’re in Zone C, where artists sell doujinshi and merchandise...”
As soon as Luo Mingjing sat down, several girls waiting at the booth surrounded him, pretending to be angry. “Are you trying to miss your chance to get rich?!”
“You’re the only one late! Do you even want to sell your doujinshi and make money?!”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Luo Mingjing untied the rope binding his doujinshi. “Here, let me sign them specially for you.”
One girl asked, “How many did you print this year?”
“One hundred copies. The pairing of Qin Ying and He Jia should gain some popularity... I also printed character postcards—take as many as you want, they’re free.”
“Hey, madam, look to your left, then to your right,” a girl holding her doujinshi lamented. “Look how popular BL is! And compare that to your BG slice-of-life artbook—so cold!”
The lines for buying and signing stretched in zigzags on both sides. While both were fanworks based on characters from the same game, the male-male pairings with steamy content were far more popular than his clean, romantic male-female pairings.
Luo Mingjing felt pained.
Seven or eight followers pounded the table in exasperation. “You, with your looks, legs, and talent, dressed as a stunning woman—if you just dare to dive into drawing explicit male-male content, you’ll be rich in no time! Do you understand character tropes? Such a good setup—capitalize on it!”
Luo Mingjing lifted his head and signed his incredibly long pen name: “Bright Mirror Reflecting the Fairy,” his eyes crinkling with a smile. “I can’t get famous. If I do, signing such a long name will kill me. Do you need a photo?”
The girls joked, “No thanks. Poor artists like you are contagious. Wait until you’re rich before taking photos with us!”
Luo Mingjing rested his head on one hand, tilting his head and smiling.
These girls weren’t exclusive fans. After signing, they defected to the zigzagging queues on either side.
Seeing no one paying attention, Luo Mingjing loosened the scarlet hair tie, letting his hair down to relieve tension.
His hair was real, nearly waist-length.
He twisted open the iced black tea gifted by fans, sipping it while doodling idly on a piece of paper.
The outline of a coat gradually took shape.
Indeed, his true passion was fashion design.
Not far away, on the main stage, the collaboration announcement ceremony began. After the opening stage play ended, the ribbon-cutting segment commenced. The host introduced the guests from both companies.
A woman with crimson lips curved into a smile as she slowly walked onto the stage and stood confidently.
With just her stance, though calm and composed, her presence was commanding and full of authority.
“Executive President of Dongshi Technology, Shi Min. Welcome, President Shi!”
Luo Mingjing glanced up briefly and abruptly stood up.
“...Shi Min?”
Having drawn doujinshi, he had played the game somewhat and was familiar with the names of Dongshi Technology’s prominent directors and presidents, including this Shi Min.
He never expected that she would be the... Maserati owner!
Across the crowd, Shi Min’s gaze leisurely landed on him. Her phoenix-like eyes sparkled with amusement as she slowly curved her lips into a smile.
Her crimson lips parted slightly, as if saying something.
Her voice was soft, audible only to herself.
“...Found you. As expected, hard to miss.”
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