Chapter 27

Ke Yixuan hadn’t even arrived on site yet, but the news had already spread through the conference room. Some reporters had already dispatched people to head over—Ke Yixuan getting into a fight was definitely big news.

The event still hadn’t started even after the time was pushed back to 4:20.

By the time Wen Zhixu returned to the VIP room, Wang Yun had gotten wind of it ahead of time. Even Tang Qin was listening to the assistant recount the whole thing with keen interest.

But the event couldn’t be delayed over this. The one running around frantically right now was Ke Min.

The video had already made its way online. The top priority was keeping public opinion from veering off course.

They’d hastily revised the interview script, conveniently cutting out Ke Yixuan’s segment.

When Wen Zhixu entered the venue, she overheard people saying Ke Yixuan had been taken away by the police to assist with their investigation.

She hadn’t caught sight of Jian Shichu at all during the whole process.

Just as she reached the venue entrance, An Ran sent her a message.

[What’s the deal? Ke Yixuan fighting in public?]

[Yeah.]

[This is pretty serious.]

Wen Zhixu stood off to the side with her head down, texting back An Ran. Getting spat on—no one could put up with that.

Let alone someone like Ke Yixuan, the infamous Miss Ke of the industry, who’d never endured such humiliation.

Wen Zhixu locked her phone, switched it to silent, and slipped it into her pocket.

At that moment, a staff member approached and handed her a script.

“Teacher Wen, the full interview is forty minutes. With Teacher Ke Yixuan’s part cut, her ten-minute solo slot’s been trimmed to five minutes for you. Mind if we do random questions from the audience below?”

Wen Zhixu agreed. She had no issues with it.

There was a host inside who promptly called the main cast onstage. Wen Zhixu’s spot was right in front of Tang Qin’s as they were ushered into the venue amid the crowd.

The director and producer watched from the floor seats. Even with Ke Yixuan’s drama today, the reporters stuck to the script—no stepping out of line.

The crowd below was a sea of faces. Wen Zhixu held the mic and stood with Tang Qin, while Su Yun was positioned right beside Tang Qin.

Today’s interviews for the pair were all about hyping their CP—footage to drop during the later broadcast. Their manager had walked them through it ages ago.

Every media outlet’s camera and mic had labels dangling from them.

Reporters fired the most questions at the leads, but with Ke Yixuan absent, extra time got shifted to Tang Qin and Su Yun.

From the back rows, faces were indistinct. Once the photographers snapped their shots, Wen Zhixu fielded questions per the previewed script—mostly about her creative process for the original work.

Once the formal Q&A wrapped, the reporters were done. Hua Xin Entertainment had sent An Ran.

The host sidled up to Wen Zhixu. “Next up, audience questions from below. We’ve got a bunch of original novel readers here today. Xiao Xu, care to share your plans for a new book?”

It was a casual toss-out; Wen Zhixu could wing it, and it might not even make the final cut.

Her gaze drifted to an empty front-row seat, where Jian Shichu finally showed—gliding in soundlessly, not sparing her a glance, and taking the spot right in front of her.

Wen Zhixu replied, “Yes, the Mountain City story.”

Her eyes drifted into the shadows as she spoke without pause—this was a tale she had to write.

As her words trailed off, Jian Shichu still didn’t look her way, just sat there pulling out her phone to scroll idly.

Wang Yun was right next to her, shooting her a sidelong glance but saying nothing.

The guest Q&A continued. Some bloggers asked Wen Zhixu about her experience writing the yuri line and why she’d included it.

Others probed what those two characters looked like in her mind’s eye.

She stayed on-topic, answering earnestly.

As the mic came forward, the host grabbed it with a smile to fill the lull. “One slot left—we’ll draw randomly.”

The words had barely landed when Jian Shichu looked up, eyed the host, and rose to head out. The moment she stood, a spotlight inexplicably hit her.

She neither refused nor accepted, but as the mic reached her, she seemed to mull it over. Amid the host’s congrats, she slowly lifted her gaze to Wen Zhixu.

“I recall Teacher Wen’s book mentioning a character impulsively having a one-night stand with someone. So, what’s Teacher Wen’s take on one-night stands?” Jian Shichu asked, her eyes gradually shifting to Wen Zhixu.

She waited for the answer.

Wen Zhixu’s heart jolted like she’d tumbled into a blizzard, every breath laced with icy wind.

The room went dead silent. Some chuckled, thinking it a gag, but Wen Zhixu’s debut novel Ru Shi did feature exactly that plot.

It wasn’t some taboo question.

Jian Shichu stared her down, her icy voice pinning Wen Zhixu in place as the cameras zeroed in relentlessly.

Wen Zhixu paused before lifting the mic. Song Yi stood at the entrance just then, watching her respond.

Her fingertips grew slick; she gripped the mic tighter without thinking.

Wen Zhixu finally spoke. “The character regretted it deeply and felt guilty afterward. In real life, it’s an irrational choice.”

Jian Shichu stared long and hard—the implication clear: Regretted it? Under the faint light, she looked a touch helpless.

Wordlessly, she passed the mic to the host and walked out.

—

Jian Shichu’s question wouldn’t make the cut—Wang Yun hated her showing up in media anyway.

From the moment Jian Shichu dropped that bomb, Wen Zhixu’s mood sank lower. It couldn’t have been a spur-of-the-moment thing.

The evening banquet was Song Yi’s treat—a networking goldmine, so plenty stuck around post-event.

Once An Ran wrapped up, she had her assistant haul the gear back to the company and went solo to find Wen Zhixu.

“Your face looks off—are you sick?” An Ran pressed the back of her hand to Wen Zhixu’s forehead.

Wen Zhixu was resting in the hotel lobby, no plans for the banquet.

An Ran was on the invite list too. Reporters and celebs kept distance, but she wasn’t going as press tonight.

“I’m fine. Skipping tonight.” Wen Zhixu rested her hands on her knees.

An Ran pressed. “What’s up? President Song told me to bring you along. Said today was too rushed—wants to chat properly tonight.”

“Ask me?” Wen Zhixu’s head throbbed; a soft breath later, realization dawned with a hint of bitterness between her brows.

“Then, let’s go.” Some things needed clearing with Song Yi—straightforward, no strings.

An Ran wasn’t one for gossip; she just relayed faithfully. Not every pap was a snoop—sometimes it was just business.

—

Wang Yun gave Jian Shichu an earful backstage for the off-script question. With Xu Ting there too, it wasn’t too harsh.

Song Yi waited in the garage for Jian Shichu, sending the driver and assistant ahead.

Event delays pushed the banquet later. Song Yi’s heels had her riding shotgun while Jian Shichu drove.

Road silence hung heavy; Jian Shichu’s mind churned with mixed feelings—how could someone be so baffling?

Song Yi scrolled phone news. It blew up fast—Ke Yixuan’s brawl topped hot search amid a flood of posts.

“Her team’s probably swamped.” Song Yi swiped. “This pic nabbed you—think Aunt Wang’ll yank it?”

Jian Shichu kept her eyes on the road. “Not the focus.”

Wang Yun wouldn’t bother with side noise anyway, especially with Ke Yixuan’s mess exploding.

Song Yi’s phone died mid-scroll. She jabbed the side buttons—no dice.

Fishing for the charger and coming up empty, she asked, “Your phone?”

Jian Shichu braked at the light, checked the timer, fished hers from her pocket, unlocked it, and handed it over.

“Why’d you go there with your question today?” Song Yi set it on her lap, digging through her bag.

Jian Shichu stayed mum. The light turned; she eased off the brake, keeping her eyes forward.

No reply, so Song Yi glanced up and dropped it—but she sensed Jian Shichu wasn’t thrilled.

Jian Shichu wasn’t; still, no point dumping it on Song Yi—she’d done nothing wrong. Blame lay with her own one-sided crashing.

“What’re you hunting for?” Jian Shichu broke the ice, aware her vibe sucked.

“No phone today—An Ran slipped me Wen Zhixu’s number. Calling to check where she is.” Song Yi unearthed the sticky note.

Wen Zhixu had been MIA then, so An Ran shared it.

Jian Shichu eyed her in the mirror, then after a beat: “Don’t use mine.”

Song Yi peeled the note, grinning. “Why?”

Finger already hunting contacts.

Jian Shichu: “Won’t connect. Save it.”

“No signal issue.” Song Yi tapped the digits, figuring it a tease.

Jian Shichu lazily glanced at her with that ‘whatever you want’ kind of look, gripped the steering wheel, and drove forward. Song Yi cleared her throat and dialed the number.

When the electronic tone indicating the call was going through sounded from the other end, she frowned tightly and dialed again. The car interior instantly fell silent.

“What’s wrong with your phone?” Song Yi asked.

“I’ve been blocked.”

“Did you offend her?”

Jian Shichu put on an attitude like she was over it and replied, “Back to your earlier question.”

Song Yi’s eyes narrowed slightly. The first question: why had she asked Wen Zhixu onstage for her opinion on one-night stands.

After straightening her head and thinking it over, she realized something. She took a deep breath, locked Jian Shichu’s phone, pursed her lips, and stared at Jian Shichu for a moment before asking in a strange tone, “So you were jealous all day today? Or were you jealous over mine?”

“No.” Jian Shichu’s reply lacked confidence. She had been jealous—not only that, she was also very afraid.

Song Yi saw it completely differently. She held Jian Shichu’s phone, her gaze fixed on her, making Jian Shichu grow more and more panicked.

At that moment, Song Yi’s phone vibrated with an incoming text.

It was from the number she’d just called: [The banquet’s over. Let’s talk.]