Jian Huaici’s birthday banquet took place at a manor near the suburbs. The closer they got to the destination, the more nervous Liu Ran became. It was her first time attending such an event, and she didn’t know many of the procedures. Those attending were probably all prominent figures like Ming Siyu.
“Why did you have to bring me here…”
Liu Ran nervously muttered without realizing it. Ming Siyu, sitting beside her, heard it clearly.
“Because Secretary Wen isn’t here.”
Secretary Zhou once again embodied that beauty of “a villain racking their brains is no match for a fool’s stroke of genius.” Ming Siyu thought that Secretary Wen usually handled too much and was too comprehensive, leaving the other secretaries and assistants specialized only in certain tasks with poor overall coordination skills. When Secretary Wen returned, she would remind her about work arrangements in this area or hire more capable people. She didn’t keep dead weight.
Liu Ran had an outstanding appearance and behaved very obediently in public, making her quite suitable to bring along.
Liu Ran fell silent after hearing this.
So she was just a backup choice.
The new collar was indeed much more comfortable than the old one. It was light and soft around her neck, almost like she wasn’t wearing it. She planned to flip it over once inside when Ming Siyu wasn’t paying attention, so the engraved initials of Ming Siyu’s name wouldn’t show.
After getting out of the car, Ming Siyu instructed Liu Ran, “Follow me. Don’t wander off on your own, and speak less.”
Jian Huaici’s coming-of-age and birthday banquet hadn’t officially started yet, but the vast banquet hall already had people scattered around in small groups, all unfamiliar faces. People kept coming up to talk to Ming Siyu, inquiring about Old Madam Ming’s health. Ming Siyu responded evasively. Liu Ran followed behind Ming Siyu like a life-sized accessory, mimicking her by picking up a glass of champagne and taking small sips from time to time.
Most people’s attention was on Ming Siyu, but a few, after speaking with her, smiled and raised their glasses to Liu Ran as well. After observing for a while, Liu Ran roughly understood—they took her for a new talent Ming Siyu was promoting.
Liu Ran had two pairs of ears, especially her wolf ears, which gave her exceptionally sharp hearing. Whispers drifted over continuously:
“Lucky one. The last person Siyu brought to an event like this was Miao Qinglan, and now she’s a Grand Slam Best Actress.”
“Is Miao Qinglan coming today? Didn’t she split off to start her own studio?”
“Yeah, her resources are way worse now than when she was at Ming Entertainment.”
“The newbie has a really unique vibe and looks. A little push, and she could blow up.”
“If Miao Qinglan shows up and sees her former boss bringing a newbie, will she regret leaving her old agency?”
…
Hearing that name made Liu Ran’s whole body go cold.
Miao Qinglan.
Her previous “owner.”
She hadn’t heard that name since leaving Miao Qinglan. A faint pain stirred below her ribs, where the scars from cigarette burns Miao Qinglan had inflicted ached with phantom pain.
She hadn’t stayed with Miao Qinglan for long. Miao Qinglan had severe violent tendencies. Before the upheaval in her family, Liu Ran had even chased her movies and TV shows, moved to tears by her otherworldly acting skills. She never imagined that the Miao Qinglan in public and in private were two completely different people. Liu Ran felt Miao Qinglan’s best performance was pretending to be a graceful, normal person in front of the masses.
Glancing around, she didn’t see Miao Qinglan and relaxed a bit.
Soon, He Qiange arrived too. He Qiange loved excitement and naturally wouldn’t miss such an occasion. But knowing the inside story, she was quite surprised to see Ming Siyu bring Liu Ran. She pulled Ming Siyu aside for a hushed chat, glancing at Liu Ran now and then.
About half an hour later, Jian Huaici’s birthday banquet finally began. She descended the spiral staircase in a custom floor-length gown made of countless layers of tulle, looking extraordinarily light and fluffy—like a cloud adorned with flowers drifting as she moved.
Behind Jian Huaici was the Alpha Liu Ran had seen at the sanatorium walking with Ming Siyu that day—undoubtedly President Jian, Jian Huaijin. Jian Huaijin’s temperament was warm yet stern, standing like a solemn, steady family head behind the lively, ethereal Jian Huaici.
After descending the steps, Jian Huaijin naturally bent down to adjust Jian Huaici’s skirt hem.
He Qiange leaned close to Ming Siyu and whispered, “Jian Huaijin is too much. She wouldn’t really plan to hand the Jian Family over to Jian Huaici, would she?”
“It’s not impossible. She’s focused on her academics, so rather than handing the Group to outsiders, better to her own little sister.” Ming Siyu replied softly. “This collaboration was her initiative. At first, I thought she’d finally taken an interest in the family Group and was handling business personally, but later I learned it was to give Jian Huaici practice.”
He Qiange suddenly said something Liu Ran couldn’t understand: “You’re still talking about that company’s business. Have you decided how to handle it? Seriously, I still suggest you just enjoy life.”
Ming Siyu laughed and cursed, “Stop eyeing my company. I won’t sell it to you—maybe to your sister.”
He Qiange huffed, “Who wants your company? Ungrateful brat.”
The hall was noisy now with everyone celebrating Jian Huaici’s coming of age. Ming Siyu and He Qiange’s voices were very low; if not for Liu Ran’s extraordinary hearing, she wouldn’t have caught it.
She was puzzled. They were probably talking about that real estate company. From what Liu Ran knew, it was running well. Why bring up handling it? Was Ming Siyu tired of splitting time between them and deciding to drop one?
But she didn’t dwell on it. How Ming Siyu ran her companies had little to do with her.
The birthday banquet was just a pretext; the real point was for Jian Huaici to network. Jian Huaijin led Jian Huaici through the crowd, chatting, and soon reached Ming Siyu.
Liu Ran’s nerves tightened. Fortunately, after Jian Huaici exchanged pleasantries with Ming Siyu and He Qiange, she merely nodded politely at Liu Ran. Jian Huaijin and Ming Siyu had nearly finalized their collaboration—she planned to set up a new production line on Ming Siyu’s plot of land, just waiting to inspect the factory and equipment.
Halfway through the banquet, they began cutting a massive ten-layer cake. Liu Ran was starving; there was hardly any real food, just drinks and desserts that didn’t fill her up, but everyone else seemed fine, chatting happily with smiles. After finishing her slice, Liu Ran noticed no one else had touched much. Staring at Ming Siyu’s untouched cake, she wondered if not eating solids and just drinking was a banquet tradition.
Ming Siyu pushed her nearly untouched slice over. “Eat if you’re hungry.”
Liu Ran hesitated. “But everyone else seems not to be eating…”
“They’re not hungry. Why worry about others?”
For the first time, Ming Siyu’s domineering attitude didn’t annoy Liu Ran. Since Ming Siyu said so, she took the cake and ate it without guilt.
The cake tasted average, but it filled her stomach nicely. When Ming Siyu headed to the restroom, Liu Ran followed, holding her bag. Liu Ran discovered another feature of such banquets besides no food: no chairs, only tables. Everyone stood and mingled.
While waiting for Ming Siyu, Liu Ran leaned against the wall and squatted to relax her aching legs from prolonged standing.
Then Ming Siyu’s phone rang, buzzing in the bag. Liu Ran hesitated, then opened the bag and took out the phone. “Ming Siwei” flashed on the screen. Liu Ran immediately recalled that day Ming Siyu had pinned her on the desk and answered on speaker.
She planned to hand it to Ming Siyu when she came out. Just as she thought that, high heels clicked from the restroom. Thinking it was Ming Siyu, Liu Ran stood and held out the phone. “Your call—”
The words cut off abruptly.
It wasn’t Ming Siyu. It was the person she least wanted to see—Miao Qinglan.
Miao Qinglan had tousled, glamorous wavy long curls swept to one side, exposing a smooth, pale shoulder. Her form-fitting red mermaid gown accentuated her curves perfectly.
Miao Qinglan froze upon seeing her, then flashed that strange smile Liu Ran had seen many times—one that always brought pain.
“Ah, the little biting dog has found a new owner. Looks like you’re good at pleasing the new one— even got into the Jian Family’s place.”
Miao Qinglan assumed the phone was Liu Ran’s and reached for it.
Liu Ran pulled her hand back, and Miao Qinglan grabbed air.
Miao Qinglan’s expression twisted.
She squinted at the black leather collar around Liu Ran’s neck. “Looks like with a new owner, you’ve forgotten how you bled and bruised under me. Does your new owner know you’re third-hand goods?”
Some people had special fetishes. Like Ming Siyu, who liked arousing her but denying release. Miao Qinglan liked the smell of blood; her first buyer liked dogfighting.
Liu Ran said coldly, “Miao Qinglan, watch your words.”
She ignored it. Miao Qinglan had drunk quite a bit, and seeing the once-defiant Liu Ran now obediently collared and waiting in the Jian Family manor filled her with resentment and frustration.
“I’m curious—how did a freak like you waltz in? Oh, you wore a hat on purpose. You don’t think matching it to your dress fools anyone into thinking it’s a set, do you? Others might buy it, but not me. You’re hiding your ears. That long skirt covers your tail. Honestly, since they’re your most unique features, you should show them off—”
With that, she reached to snatch Liu Ran’s formal hat.
Liu Ran dodged easily, of course.
Still, Liu Ran worried someone else might enter the restroom. Miao Qinglan, that lunatic, would definitely grab them and blab about her ears and tail.
Recalling the earlier gossip about Miao Qinglan—she’d been a star Ming Siyu had promoted, now at a new agency. Ming Siyu was her former boss. A former boss was still a boss; even if Miao Qinglan was thriving, Ming Siyu should outrank her.
Liu Ran decided to borrow her authority. “Miao Qinglan, are you jealous that President Ming brought me instead of you?”
There were only a few Mings around. Miao Qinglan’s face changed. “Don’t try scaring me with Ming Siyu. She wouldn’t keep trash like you…”
A sharp voice laced with impatience cut in.
“Liu Ran, didn’t I tell you to speak less here?”
Ming Siyu appeared behind Miao Qinglan. “Qinglan, long time no see.”
Liu Ran bit her lip. Ming Siyu’s greeting to Miao Qinglan was familiar and casual, like old friends. Could Ming Siyu be siding with Miao Qinglan?
After thinking, Liu Ran figured it wasn’t impossible. Both had owned her; owners empathized with each other. Plus, Miao Qinglan was an artist Ming Siyu had personally promoted.
But she felt wronged and angry. Miao Qinglan bullied her—should she just take it? How could Ming Siyu side against her without hearing both sides?
Ming Siyu’s arrival sobered Miao Qinglan halfway. She hadn’t expected Liu Ran to truly belong to Ming Siyu. Thinking of the hard days after storming out of Ming Entertainment… Her cut was bigger without the company, more freedom sans oversight, but headaches multiplied, and solo she couldn’t snag top resources. She’d rather return to Ming Siyu. She’d begged, face low, but Ming Siyu refused.
Yet Liu Ran, a hybrid human selling herself to survive, stood effortlessly by Ming Siyu, entering elite venues. Ming Siyu even got her a hat.
Miao Qinglan never imagined she’d one day envy Liu Ran—envy a dog she’d nearly beaten to death.
Miao Qinglan forced a smile. “President Ming, it’s been a while. I’ll visit the Ming Group personally another day.”
“No need for a visit. You know Liu Ran?”
“I kept her for a bit. She wasn’t obedient, so I sent her back. Didn’t the experimenter tell you she’s been returned more than once?”
Miao Qinglan suspected that Ming Siyu truly had no idea. Based on her understanding of Ming Siyu, she absolutely would not buy something that had been used by someone else.
Ming Siyu revealed a smile that could almost be called gentle. She answered irrelevantly:
“Qinglan, since you know that Liu Ran was sent back by you, it seems you are very clear on the issue of her ownership. You’ve also followed me before, so you should know my habits: I hate it the most when others touch my things without permission.”
Liu Ran abruptly looked toward Ming Siyu. Was Ming Siyu speaking up for her?
“President Ming, you misunderstood. We just ran into each other as old acquaintances and chatted a few words. I didn’t touch her…” Miao Qinglan panicked a little, her earlier arrogant demeanor vanishing completely.
Ming Siyu turned her head to ask Liu Ran, “Did she touch you?”
Liu Ran did not hesitate: “She did.”
Miao Qinglan could not believe it: “Nonsense! I clearly didn’t even touch you!”
But Ming Siyu did not listen to her.
Ming Siyu said unhurriedly, “This is the Jian Family’s place. I don’t want to make a scene too ugly, so you should leave first. As for my person,” she turned to Liu Ran, “I’ll handle her myself. I don’t need an ex to point fingers.”
Miao Qinglan still wanted to argue, but Ming Siyu’s expression clearly showed impatience. Her lips trembled, and in the end, she shot Liu Ran a vicious glare before storming off in her high heels.
After Miao Qinglan left, Ming Siyu looked at Liu Ran, her red lips parting lightly: “Useless.”
She was Ming Siyu’s person now, yet she couldn’t even handle a Miao Qinglan. Did she think Ming Siyu couldn’t cover for a little pet’s troubles?
For once, Liu Ran did not retort.
She suddenly felt that Ming Siyu’s excessively strong sense of possession wasn’t entirely a bad thing—at least not just now.
She followed Ming Siyu back to the banquet hall and handed over the phone: “President Ming, someone just called you.”
“Who told you to touch my phone?” Ming Siyu’s tone was unkind, but not as ominous as it had been with Miao Qinglan. “No next time.”
Ming Siyu opened the missed call log and saw it was Ming Siwei. She directly turned off the screen. She did not forget to ask Liu Ran, “You said Miao Qinglan touched you—where did she touch? Did she touch your ears or tail?”
Liu Ran: “She touched my self-esteem.”
Ming Siyu: …
While Ming Siyu was not paying attention, Liu Ran quietly flipped the collar back to reveal the “MSY.”
In the second half of the banquet, Liu Ran cautiously scanned the entire hall but did not see Miao Qinglan’s figure anywhere. It seemed she had indeed left early as Ming Siyu demanded.
Many of the guests at the birthday banquet were business partners who had collaborated with Ming Siyu before. Ming Siyu drank quite a bit, and when she left her seat, her expression was as usual, but her steps were somewhat unsteady.
Liu Ran had only taken a small sip of champagne and was still quite sober. She supported Ming Siyu as they walked toward the car.
She helped Ming Siyu into the car. Back in the familiar space, Ming Siyu instantly relaxed, leaning against the soft seatback and gently rubbing her temples. She parted her lips and let out a breath.
The light inside the car was rather dim, and most of Ming Siyu’s face was shrouded in shadow. Liu Ran turned her head to look and suddenly felt that Ming Siyu appeared weary and delicate in this state.
Ming Siyu always seemed so busy. She was calm and ruthless, handling everything that came her way with perfect resolution, as if she were born with that ability. Liu Ran could not help but wonder: Did Ming Siyu ever encounter problems she could not solve? If so, who would she turn to for help? He Qiange? Ming Siwei? Old Madam Ming?
Probably not. Secretary Zhou had exaggerated to Liu Ran that President Ming was omnipotent.
As if sensing someone staring at her, Ming Siyu turned her face toward Liu Ran, seeming about to say something. Their gazes met in midair for a moment, then Ming Siyu looked away, back out the window, and rolled it down.
The summer night wind rushed in all at once, carrying a hint of sultriness.
Ming Siyu took a pack of cigarettes from her bag, pushed one out, and held it between her fingers before lighting it. The faint smoke had not yet settled into the car before it was carried away by the wind.
Liu Ran heard Ming Siyu say something to the passing breeze.
But that sentence was too soft, too faint. It had no chance to reach anyone’s ears, vanishing into the wind just like the smoke from Ming Siyu’s lips.
