Psst! We're moving!
Song Zhi was woken up by the alarm clock. Annoyed, she reached out from under the covers, blindly groping around the bedside table.
After fumbling for a while and finding nothing, she angrily threw off the blanket, got up, and went to grab her phone.
It was 9:30 AM, and she had an hour before work started.
The room was pitch black since the lights were off. Using the light from her phone, she found the remote control and opened the curtains. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, somewhat blinding.
The space beside her was empty. She wasn’t wearing anything, just covered by a blanket.
Her body was covered in haphazard love bites, especially on her abdomen and inner thighs.
She tried to get up to grab her pajamas but felt a terrible soreness all over, as if she had been beaten up.
Jiang Yanzhou had been relentless—moving from the study to the bedroom and then to the balcony.
Aunt He and the housekeeper didn’t live here full-time; they had a separate villa behind this one, which allowed him to be so uninhibited.
He had bitten her like a mad dog, showing no mercy.
She groaned in pain, finally managing to change into her clothes and finish washing up.
Downstairs, Aunt He had already set the food on the table. Seeing that Song Zhi was awake, she quickly called her down to eat: “I made your favorite pumpkin porridge and pumpkin cakes.”
Song Zhi rubbed her shoulders as she descended the stairs. After sitting down, she looked around and asked, “Where’s Jiang Yanzhou?”
Aunt He ladled some porridge for her: “He left early this morning. He said he needed to handle some things at the company since he just returned to the country.”
Song Zhi nodded and started drinking her milk. After two sips, she put the glass down.
“Aunt He, you eat slowly. I need to go now.”
As she spoke, she stood up. Aunt He placed a bowl in front of her. “You were tired last night. Yanzhou told me to make sure you finish eating before letting you leave.”
That sounded so embarrassing...
Song Zhi usually ate very little to maintain her figure, but today she ended up eating a full meal, even finishing all her milk.
Seeing the thin layer of cream on her lips, Aunt He handed her a tissue: “Make sure to eat lunch and dinner on time, okay?”
Song Zhi pouted playfully: “How can I eat anything else after tasting your cooking?”
Aunt He shook her head helplessly, smiling: “You’re such a kid. I give up on you.”
She went to the kitchen and brought out a thermos lunch box, handing it to Song Zhi. “This is specially made for you. Make sure you eat something nutritious for lunch. Don’t skip meals for the sake of losing weight—I’ll check when you get back.”
Song Zhi obediently nodded: “Alright, I promise to finish it all.”
Aunt He smiled: “Good, go to work now.”
“Okay, I’m leaving.”
Today’s schedule included a magazine photoshoot and a live broadcast event for Black Cat TV.
Though her acting skills were often criticized, her data among otaku fans was still impressive. She had just been announced as the spokesperson for Black Cat TV earlier this year.
Song Zhi felt great today. The shoot progressed quickly, and after finishing work, she returned to the hotel to sleep for a few hours until the driver came to pick her up later that evening.
There were a few unread messages on her phone, all from Tang Xiaoyan.
Feeling a bit hungry after waking up, Song Zhi took a pack of low-fat milk from the fridge. She bit the corner of the bag with her mouth, walked out while unlocking her phone.
[Tang Xiaoyan: You must remember to get me an autograph.]
She heard that one of the streamers participating in the live broadcast today was a professional esports player named He Hanyang.
Tang Xiaoyan was a huge fan of his.
Song Zhi replied with an OK hand gesture, then slipped her phone into her coat pocket and went out.
Her assistant, Xu, seemed to have just arrived too. Seeing her, he called out, “Sister Song Zhi.”
She sipped her milk and asked, “Is the car here?”
“Yes, it’s waiting downstairs.”
Low-fat milk had little flavor—it even tasted slightly bitter. Though it temporarily satisfied hunger, its taste was far from pleasant. After a few sips, Song Zhi tossed it into the trash.
________________________________________
This event had been hyped for a long time. As Song Zhi’s agent, Xia Wanyue had her own plans. Upon arriving at the hotel, she reminded Song Zhi: “He Hanyang has a large fanbase, both male and female. Manage the live content well and try to attract some of their fans.”
Song Zhi let the words go in one ear and out the other.
Their hotel room was on the 36th floor. When they arrived, the staff was busy adjusting the equipment for the live broadcast.
Xia Wanyue went ahead to coordinate with the person in charge, instructing Song Zhi to go in first and familiarize herself with the streaming environment.
Song Zhi took the flowchart Xia Wanyue handed her and entered the suite’s bedroom. As she read it, she pushed the door open.
There were quite a few people in the bedroom—besides the staff, there were several boys in black team jerseys testing the equipment: “This mouse feels terrible. I should’ve brought my own.”
“The internet speed is horrible too. No matter how luxurious this hotel is, it’s not as good as an esports hotel.”
“Enough,” a slightly lazy voice interrupted their complaints. “A bunch of dummies. Is playing games more important than admiring our goddess?”
Someone suddenly exclaimed, “Oh crap, she’s here!”
The noisy room fell silent instantly. Several pairs of eyes turned toward her.
Since she only needed to make an appearance, Song Zhi dressed casually today: skinny jeans, a short beige T-shirt with an irregular hemline, revealing part of her slender waist.
Her long hair was tied into a high ponytail, accentuating her elegant, swan-like neck.
God-given talent—her delicate, innocent white flower aura was particularly appealing to boys.
Facing these pairs of eyes, Song Zhi put down the flowchart and awkwardly glanced at the nearby staff: “Did I come too late?”
“No, not at all. You came just in time.” The boys who had been complaining earlier immediately stood up, helping her pull a chair, pour water, and adjust the game sensitivity settings.
They were as eager as loyal dogs.
“Exactly. Better late than never. I’ve never met someone so good at timing.”
“So smooth, absolutely NICE.”
They were subtly flattering her.
The boys appeared to be young. After introducing themselves, the oldest was even a year younger than Song Zhi.
The youngest had just turned 18.
The contract clearly stated the live content: playing games and chatting. At first, everything proceeded according to plan.
With hosts warming up the crowd, the live broadcast atmosphere was decent.
Who would’ve thought the production team added a random voice chat question segment midway?
Xia Wanyue’s face darkened instantly. Song Zhi had just received an award that didn’t match her abilities and was already under scrutiny. This random voice chat method was highly unstable.
Xia Wanyue was furious and wanted to lash out on the spot—it was a breach of contract!
But alas, the live broadcast had already started. Even if she screamed her head off, it wouldn’t help; instead, it might give Song Zhi a reputation for being difficult and refusing to stream.
She could only suppress her anger and watch the situation unfold.
The first caller was a girl, her voice overly sweet, as if she were speaking with a breath held halfway: “Can Auntie Song Zhi hear me?”
Auntie Song Zhi...
Song Zhi choked on that title but still smiled politely: “Yes, I can hear you.”
Indeed, expression management was a basic skill for celebrities.
Once she confirmed Song Zhi could hear her, the caller continued: “I want to ask Auntie Song Zhi how much money she spent buying that award. How many sugar daddies does she need to sleep with to earn it back? Can her body handle it? Don’t her parents call her cheap?”
As soon as this question was asked, the bullet chat exploded.
[666!]
[Sisters really dare to say it.]
[What the hell?]
[Fuck, where did this stinky girl come from? Get out!]
No one expected the first question to be so sharp.
After all, that award...was indeed bought by Jiang Yanzhou, and afterward, she had indeed slept with him twice.
She had no grounds to refute this. Yet, the caller kept pressing: “Why isn’t Auntie answering? Did I hit a sore spot?”
He Hanyang put on his headset and lazily asked, “Did they remove your vocal cords? Or are you talking with your legs spread apart? Are you feeling itchy?”
Then followed a long silence.
…
In the end, this live stream concluded with the girl crying after being scolded.
Xia Wanyue instructed the staff to pause the live broadcast and went to argue with the organizers.
Even from the next room, her aggressive questioning could be heard.
People who reached the position of manager inevitably had connections and capabilities. Xia Wanyue, being a seasoned agent, was no exception.
Within ten minutes, she returned triumphantly, like a victorious fighting rooster.
Song Zhi casually asked, “How did it go?”
She told Xu to pack up their things: “What else could it be? They unilaterally breached the contract, putting my artist in the center of public opinion. Of course, they should clean up this mess.”
The live broadcast stopped midway, citing technical issues as the excuse.
Those online viewers weren’t fools. Why did the problem occur precisely at this moment?
Xia Wanyue reassured Song Zhi, saying she had already planned a strategy for today’s incident; otherwise, she wouldn’t have directly requested to halt the live broadcast.
Xu flattered her profusely: “Sister Wanyue is truly amazing.”
The numbers on the elevator kept changing. Her phone buzzed with incoming messages—seven out of eight were from Tang Xiaoyan.
[Tang Xiaoyan: What the fuck happened?]
[Tang Xiaoyan: Why did the live stream stop as soon as I arrived?]
[Tang Xiaoyan: Why did He Hanyang suddenly curse so harshly?]
[Tang Xiaoyan: Wait! Was he cursing at you?]
[Tang Xiaoyan: Didn’t I tell you that your methods don’t work on everyone?]
This situation was too complicated to explain succinctly. Song Zhi didn’t know how to summarize it for her.
[Song Zhi: Let’s talk about it when we meet next time.]
She exited the chat interface with Tang Xiaoyan and noticed the only message among the eight that wasn’t from her.
[Jiang Yanzhou: In a meeting, will return late.]
Song Zhi squinted disdainfully.
No wonder Tang Xiaoyan secretly called him an old dog.
Whether or not he was a dog, his way of speaking was indeed outdated.
Song Zhi had different personas online and in real life.
[Song Zhi: Take care of yourself, my dear. Don’t overwork. If you hurt your body, I’ll feel heartbroken~]
The message was sent. Three minutes passed, five minutes, ten minutes.
Finally, her phone vibrated—a rare occurrence.
[Jiang Yanzhou: .]
Damn, so cold.
She locked her phone and put it in her bag, glancing at the floor number displayed on the elevator: “Why are we still on the 48th floor?”
Xu said: “There was a minor issue earlier, but it’s resolved now.”
The elevator indeed resumed its steady descent.
A familiar voice with a naturally lazy tone came from beside them: “Song Zhi?”
Song Zhi raised her eyes, shifting her gaze from Xu.
He Hanyang came around the corner of the hallway, a backpack slung over his left shoulder. The red logo on it likely represented his team name.
She straightened up: “Why are you alone? Where are your teammates?”
“They said they wanted to keep playing for a bit.”
“Oh.”
Just then, the elevator doors opened.
The three of them stepped in. As the doors closed, Song Zhi remembered Tang Xiaoyan’s request for an autograph.
He Hanyang readily agreed. He took out a pen and looked at Song Zhi: “Where do I sign?”
Song Zhi hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Xu.
Xu looked left and right, realizing both of them were looking at him.
He shrugged innocently: “I don’t carry paper around either.”
...
Without materials, even the most skilled cook can’t prepare a meal.
Song Zhi glanced at her white T-shirt, her heart bleeding internally. Damn, this was a limited edition—only a hundred pieces worldwide.
But for her sister’s happiness, it was worth it.
She tugged at the hem of her shirt: “Sign here.”
Song Zhi was 168 cm tall—not short—but compared to He Hanyang’s towering 185 cm, there was a noticeable difference.
This difference required him to bend down to reach the hem of her T-shirt.
The elevator stopped running. With the announcement of reaching the ground floor, the bright lights of the hotel lobby and the slowly opening elevator doors illuminated the space.
After signing, He Hanyang straightened up, closing the pen cap as he consoled her: “Don’t dwell on what happened today. When dealing with those foul-mouthed people, you need to be fouler.”
That was true.
Song Zhi said: “I should thank you.”
“Nah, I insult people every day. One more line doesn’t make a difference.”
They lingered without leaving. Just as the elevator doors were about to close, someone extended a hand to block them, politely asking: “Are you getting off?”
Xu hurriedly responded: “Yes, yes.”
Only then did Song Zhi realize the elevator had arrived.
She pulled down her cap brim, preparing to follow Xu out. As she slightly raised her gaze, she met the icy glare of a man whose eyes seemed to pierce through frost.
He was likely heading to some formal occasion. His suit was impeccably tailored, and even the collar button was fastened neatly.
Even without saying a word, his presence exuded an overwhelming aura, akin to the leader of a lion pride—every move carried a sense of pressure.
He always maintained a serious demeanor, especially in front of his subordinates.
Many admired him, but just as many feared him.
At the pinnacle of power, with ambition and sharp claws, such a man seemed particularly intimidating.
Yet, Song Zhi loved tearing off his serious mask. She had personally seen him gasping for breath, unable to restrain himself, and also witnessed his satisfaction after indulging in pleasure.
All of this was because of her—and only her. Thinking about it gave her a sense of accomplishment.
Unexpectedly encountering him here, Song Zhi didn’t even get a chance to greet her beloved “little darling” before the latter cast a cold glance at the signature on her T-shirt and silently walked past her into the elevator.