“I thought you were going to beat me up,” Rong Yin said quietly, looking up at Lu Zhi who was above her.
Lu Zhi raised an eyebrow and couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Am I that scary?”
“Of course you are!” Rong Yin emphasized with utter certainty. Perhaps it was the sheer intimacy of their current position that suddenly made her feel like opening up.
Rong Yin first made a deliberate “Hmph” sound to register her complaint, then continued, “You’re pretty gentle with everyone else, just way too fierce with me. I was agonizing for an hour just now over whether to call you.”
“Sigh, but I didn’t know who else to call. I can’t very well call Little Ma or Zhuang Jie, could I?”
Rong Yin sighed. Although her words made her sound pitiable, her face showed no self-pity, only a touch of charming, coy petulance.
Lu Zhi knew Rong Yin’s family situation. She’d grown up in a single-parent household, but her mother had been a great woman, giving her love enough for two all on her own. Her mind and body had not been damaged by the harshness of the world. And Rong Yin’s initial reason for entering the entertainment industry had been to pay for her mother’s medical treatment. Even though her mother ultimately passed away, Rong Yin had done everything she could and therefore didn’t carry a great sense of regret.
After that, she’d stayed with Splendid World Entertainment. Under Zhuang Jie’s all-encompassing, 360-degree control, she clearly hadn’t been able to make many friends. Over the years, it had seemed like she constantly met new people in a whirlwind, but in reality, her social life was almost entirely cut off. Her existence consisted of nothing but rushing from one schedule to the next.
It was, indeed, a clever form of domestication.
In the lamplight, Lu Zhi looked into Rong Yin’s clear eyes. “Then why did you still ask for me to be your agent?”
Rong Yin pressed her lips together and took a moment before speaking. “Because the way you talked to Zhou Mingming was very gentle, yet also very confident. Like you could make anything happen, as if it were only natural. And when you were filling in for Zhuang Jie, you didn’t restrict me too much. You even sneaked me food behind Little Ma’s back. Occasionally… you were rather nice to me too, I suppose…”
She paused mid-sentence, then glared at Lu Zhi, her expression turning vindictive. “But the first time we met, you said you’d hit me. And you pushed me out of the car, let me get soaked in the rain—that huge rainstorm!”
“There was no one on the street! It was so dark! And thunder! Lightning! I was scared to death!” Rong Yin grew more and more worked up, gnashing her teeth at Lu Zhi. “I got a fever because of you! Forty degrees!”
“Personal safety is important. And it wasn’t forty degrees, at most thirty-nine point five,” Lu Zhi corrected her meticulously, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she watched Rong Yin’s vividly expressive face. Her hand, still pressed against Rong Yin’s belly, gradually eased its pressure, though Rong Yin was too distracted to notice. The painkiller was likely kicking in.
“What’s the difference!” Rong Yin was full of resentment and hurt, muttering under her breath, “You’re just mean to me, why won’t you admit it?!”
Lu Zhi smiled and gave an agreeable “Mm,” exceptionally accommodating. She nodded and said, “Alright, I’ll treat you better from now on.”
Only then did Rong Yin feel somewhat satisfied. She then added, as if it were perfectly natural, “Treating me well is your duty anyway. And you have to treat me even better than you treat Zhou Mingming.”
Lu Zhi asked, “Why?”
“Because right now, I’m the one making you money! Can Zhou Mingming make you more money than I can?!” Rong Yin declared the words making money with forceful emphasis.
Seeing her smug expression, Lu Zhi nearly laughed out loud. She couldn’t help reaching out and stroking the girl’s cheek—smooth as silk to the touch, faintly addicting.
Her gesture was so natural that Rong Yin didn’t feel the least bit affronted; she even nuzzled against it almost imperceptibly.
The two held each other’s gaze in silence. Rong Yin’s expression was relaxed, Lu Zhi’s gaze gentle. Neither felt awkward.
After a moment, Lu Zhi’s palm rested still on Rong Yin’s lower abdomen, only her thumb tracing lazy circles around her little belly button, a subtle reminder of her hand’s presence.
“Still need rubbing?”
By now, Rong Yin no longer felt the intense pain from before. The fingers sliding over her belly were starting to feel ticklish, but she didn’t know what came over her. Looking at the other’s gentle eyes illuminated by the warm light, she just wanted to act spoiled. Before her brain could react, soft words had already tumbled from her lips: “Just a little longer…”
“Alright,” Lu Zhi smiled, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. “Then close your eyes. The shoot’s still on tomorrow. I’ll stop once you fall asleep.”
Rong Yin nodded, then remembered the other couldn’t see her in the darkness and gave a soft “Mm.”
Rong Yin thought she’d have a hard time falling asleep, after all, it was a rather intimate setting, and someone was even rubbing her body. But strangely, she drifted off almost immediately, as if her subconscious had long since placed its complete faith in Lu Zhi.
After Rong Yin fell asleep, Lu Zhi did nothing untoward. She pulled the blanket up a little and then went to the guest room.
The next morning, Lu Zhi announced that she wanted an assistant to come live at the house.
For Rong Yin, it was like a thunderbolt out of a clear blue sky. She spat out a mouthful of toothpaste foam at the sink, opposing it vehemently. “No way! Didn’t you say I’d decide on my personal assistant?!”
“Mhm, I did,” Lu Zhi said without looking up. “But I’m afraid if I don’t leave someone here to watch you, you might drop dead in this villa tomorrow.”
“Dead from pure stupidity,” Lu Zhi added.
“…” Rong Yin knew she was in the wrong but wasn’t about to give in so easily. Still in her nightgown and slippers, she pattered after Lu Zhi, hollering, “Yesterday was an accident, a total accident!”
“Anyhow, I don’t want them in my house. I’m perfectly fine living alone.” Rong Yin was both angry and annoyed, glaring at Lu Zhi’s back as if looking at a massive cheat. “Why are you like this! You said just yesterday you’d treat me better, and now today you’re putting someone on me to spy on me. Why isn’t anyone spying on Zhou Mingming? Would you send someone to spy on Zhou Mingming?”
“Mingming lives in the company dormitory. Do you want to live there?” Lu Zhi’s voice was level. “Hiring your actual assistant will take a month at the earliest. For now, let those girls from the company rotate in to look after you. I’ll mark them down as on business trips.”
Rong Yin gritted her teeth, still refusing. “I won’t let those company assistants live in my house! I don’t need a personal assistant!”
“You don’t need one?” Lu Zhi set down her tablet, turned and looked at her directly, deciding it was time for this person to face reality.
“Alright then. Basic needs: food, clothing, shelter, transportation.”
“Clothing: You’re endorsing Q&D now. From now on, whenever you go out, you’ll need to wear their brand’s clothes. Can you ensure that every time, you’ll pick the right outfit from your closet suitable for the day’s theme?”
“Food: You can’t cook worth a damn. Should I just leave you here to burn the kitchen down? Or to eat recklessly again like yesterday, then get sick puking your guts out?”
“Shelter: For cleaning, I can arrange cleaners to come in every other day. But do you even know how to handle the utilities, property management, and the various appliances in this house?”
“Transportation: Can you drive? Do you even have a driver’s license? Can you actually go out alone? Don’t tell me you can just walk, hail a cab, take a bus, or ride the subway.”
“… You… I…” Rong Yin stammered for a long moment, unable to come up with a single retort.
“And that’s just life stuff. What about work—coordinating schedules, confirming venues, managing personnel? Can you handle any of that?”
“… Hmph!” Rong Yin crossed her arms in a huff. Her pretty face darkened, refusing to communicate further.
On these matters, however, Lu Zhi did not indulge her. That night, an assistant was assigned to stay in the villa, leaving Rong Yin to slam her bedroom door with a deafening bang.
After the Q&D commercial shoot wrapped up, Rong Yin finally had a brief window of free time. The nutritionist and fitness trainer Lu Zhi hired gradually got into place, and she happen to create a plan for Zhou Mingming as well.
She didn’t dictate specific daily meals with the same strictness as Zhuang Jie. She only had the trainers establish the optimal weight and body fat percentage for Rong Yin’s best figure, the necessary daily exercises for body sculpting, and some supplementary routines to simply strengthen her physique and build up a bit more physical power.
Of course, all those heavy-oil, heavy-spice foods remained firmly on Rong Yin’s dietary blacklist.
As for professional improvement, Splendid World Entertainment had its own acting training classes, run semi-commercially. Besides training company artists, they were also open to the public. The teachers were all certified professionals from the Film Academy. Zhou Mingming was currently taking classes there every day.
But Rong Yin’s situation was a bit different. Lu Zhi scoured her contact list and had Boss Su Xi act as an intermediary, bringing in two veteran actors with decades of industry experience. They were true seniors who had weathered the rise and fall of the entertainment world—they’d tasted stardom and experienced fading into obscurity. After life had taken them through countless vicissitudes, they now took on a few students themselves and were occasionally invited to lecture at film and television academies.
Rong Yin was overjoyed. Since getting her high school diploma at eighteen, she had completely left the education system. Later, she’d only attended a few days of training classes before being thrust onto sets. The non-stop grind that followed had left her with absolutely no time to better herself. Now that Lu Zhi had found the time and opportunity for this, she naturally cherished it deeply. Because of this, some of her resentment towards Lu Zhi over the assistant issue subsided as well.
Once the two young women were settled, Lu Zhi had her own work to attend to.
As a celebrity agent, it wasn’t just about meeting the artist’s various needs and managing their public image. The most crucial aspect was expanding their professional resources.
The original owner of this body, Chen Qihua, was, to the motley, ever-changing world of entertainment, an outsider in every sense. She had no connections or resources to speak of, having charged in alone with nothing but a youthful body and beautiful dreams for the future.
If not for that fateful hangover, the passage of time might have eventually seen her fade away into obscurity. Or perhaps she would have soared.
But no matter what, Lu Zhi was here now. She had taken over this body and naturally intended to carry on her predecessor’s dream.
Lu Zhi didn’t dislike interacting with people—in fact, she was exceptionally adept at it. She had transmigrated through countless lives, witnessed myriad landscapes, learned vast troves of knowledge, worked many different jobs, and met countless people. It was no exaggeration to say that if she put her mind to it, she could handle most people upon first meeting.
Yet, Lu Zhi still handled every task with genuine care.
She wasn’t an arrogant or high-minded soul by nature. Having traveled through so many worlds, she had long since become all the more patient and tolerant. She didn’t feel that her experiences spanning a long, long stretch of time automatically made her a genius, nor did she look down on others for their limitations. She knew that it was often ordinary people whose latent potential proved to be the most astonishing.
This was what Lu Zhi had gained as a traveler of time and space. It was her humility.
