He Li’s private stable was at the foot of Cuihua Mountain. Thanks to the financial power of modern capitalists, a vast, prime piece of land was cordoned off in an urban area where housing prices still soared within a two-kilometer radius—a scenic treasure trove.
In the afterglow of the setting sun, even the lush, manicured artificial turf seemed tainted with the decay of fame and fortune.
“Has Miss Chen ever considered changing jobs?”
Lu Zhi turned her head at the voice, looking toward He Li, who was slowly riding up on horseback from behind.
It had to be admitted, people raised in the lap of luxury, as long as they had a modicum of self-discipline, could grow into strikingly refined and elegant figures. Especially now, dressed in professional riding attire, astride a purebred white horse, his waist slim and posture straight, he was undeniably dashing and noble.
He Li gently nudged his horse’s belly to ride alongside Lu Zhi. His powerful capitalist backing meant he didn’t need to beat around the bush. “With your abilities, toiling away in a small setup like Splendid World Entertainment is truly a waste. If you’re interested, I can find a position for you at Chenzhou.”
Not another entertainment company under Chenzhou Group’s holdings, but Chenzhou itself.
“Thank you,” Lu Zhi wasn’t surprised. She smiled slightly, then delivered a refusal just as direct. “But I’m quite satisfied with my current job.”
He Li raised an eyebrow, looking at her carefully. Only after confirming she wasn’t just playing hard to get did a flicker of disappointment cross his face, though it vanished quickly. “Alright, I won’t force the issue. But if Miss Chen ever changes her mind in the future, remember that this offer will always stand.”
Lu Zhi tilted her head. The warm sunlight fell on her fair face, lending her smile a touch of sincerity. “Okay, friend.”
Her voice was slightly teasing, the two words drawing their relationship significantly closer.
But in truth, for Lu Zhi’s current job, the morning’s recreational ride at the stables was merely accompaniment. The series of dinner banquets that evening were her main objective for coming, in her capacity as Rong Yin’s agent.
After fervently networking with a crowd of increasingly tipsy so-called fashion luminaries, it was nearly eleven at night by the time she returned to the villa.
Rong Yin was curled up on the living room sofa, watching a cultural documentary.
The production crew had no night shoots lately. The modern drama’s filming locations weren’t far from home, so after finishing her daytime scenes, Rong Yin could comfortably return home to rest, without needing to rush off to other chaotic engagements. She was immensely satisfied with this almost vacation-like work rhythm.
So much so that even these somewhat dry documentaries, which Lu Zhi had mandated she watch, she could now follow with genuine interest.
Though, of course, it would be even better if she didn’t have to hand in an 800-word, handwritten reflection after every documentary or film.
“Why are you back so late?”
Rong Yin propped her hands on the back of the sofa. The central AC was set rather low; she was wearing a white spaghetti-strap nightdress with a printed plush shawl draped over her shoulders. Her gaze fixed directly on Lu Zhi, who was changing her shoes at the entrance. She didn’t realize at all how much she sounded like a little wife just then.
Lu Zhi made an affirmative sound. Walking over, she said, “Get me a glass of water, please.”
“Oh.” Rong Yin hurriedly responded, slipping on her slippers and trotting over to the bar to pour water.
Lu Zhi was indeed a bit tired. As she walked, she undid her tied-up hair, adjusting it with a soft silk scrunchie into a loose, comfortable style.
“Here.” Rong Yin handed over the glass, her little nose twitching. “Did you drink?”
Lu Zhi took the glass and asked, “Do I smell bad?”
Rong Yin shook her head first, then leaned closer to sniff near Lu Zhi’s neck and shoulders before shaking her head again, laughing. “No, you smell pretty nice, actually.”
Lu Zhi’s lips curved. She handed the glass back after drinking, and Rong Yin took it, setting it naturally on the coffee table.
On the large projector screen in front of the living room, a noisy town market scene was playing now. The cacophony poured out from the high-quality speakers, creating a distinct kind of clamor.
Rong Yin turned the volume down to minimum before glancing at Lu Zhi.
She had talked a lot tonight. Now, relaxed, her body leaned lazily against the sofa, an unnoticed trace of indifference on her features.
“Very tired?” Rong Yin couldn’t help asking. “Do you want a bath? I’ll run the water for you.”
Lu Zhi gave a puzzled hum, her gaze settling on Rong Yin’s earnest face. Then she smiled. “So well-behaved?”
Her voice was languid and teasing, the drawn-out ending carrying a special nuance.
Rong Yin felt a numbing sensation jolt through her heart, like an electric shock. Snapping out of it, she quickly turned her head away. “I… I just thought you seemed really tired, that’s all. Besides, you’re supposed to be my agent, yet here I am serving you tea and water!”
Seeming to have hit upon a key point, Rong Yin regained her confidence and glared back at her. “I don’t even know who’s whose agent anymore!”
Lu Zhi didn’t bicker with her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and placated, “Mm, mm, I haven’t done a good job. I’m troubling Teacher Rong Yin to take care of me.”
Her tone was soft, but Rong Yin felt frustrated, like she’d punched a ball of cotton.
However, seeing that Lu Zhi genuinely looked a bit weary, she pursed her lips and her heart quickly softened.
So, in the end, it was Rong Yin who ran the bathwater.
The room she had chosen for Lu Zhi back then was the largest guest room in the villa, with fixtures comparable to the master bedroom.
Rong Yin crouched by the bathtub, testing the water temperature. There was no reluctance in her mood at all. Her fingers adjusted it back and forth—sometimes too hot, sometimes too cold—until after a long while, she finally found a suitable temperature. Then, a memory from several months ago suddenly flashed through her mind.
That time they got caught in the rain, and Lu Zhi brought her to the hotel, ran the bathwater, and even helped her wash up…
Rong Yin’s eyes blinked a beat late.
Was it possible that… maybe… probably… Lu Zhi had seen her entire bare body that time!
It was hard to imagine that her sense of shame could surface so belatedly, months later.
After removing her makeup, Lu Zhi noticed Rong Yin still hadn’t come out of the bathroom. She walked in to find the tub already half-full, and Rong Yin still crouching beside it in a daze.
Lu Zhi nudged her with her foot. “Rong Yin, what are you doing? Waiting to join me in the bath?”
Rong Yin looked back, her fair cheeks flushed like rouge smeared by water. Her peach-blossom eyes rolled at Lu Zhi. “Who wants to bathe with you!”
She huffily stormed off after that.
Lu Zhi was baffled, chalking it up to Rong Yin having a random bout of hysteria.
While soaking in the tub, she suddenly received a message. The film Zhou Mingming was set to star in had scheduled exterior shooting at the seaside for early October.
The location was in a small fishing village in a northern county—a very remote, small place. The Director had sent several photos in the group chat: a secluded little path, stone houses scattered at varying heights, surging ocean waves, a solitary lighthouse, the sky heavy with deep twilight hues. Vast, untamed, desolate, it naturally exuded a thought-provoking atmosphere.
Lu Zhi tossed her phone aside, peeled off her face mask, and submerged herself entirely in the water, holding her breath for a long moment before breaking the surface.
But shortly after she got out, Rong Yin came knocking.
“What’s wrong?” Lu Zhi was still drying her hair.
“I forgot to tell you earlier,” Rong Yin’s gaze flickered past Lu Zhi’s slightly parted collar and landed on her makeup-free face. A little aggrieved, she said, “I’ve been having excess heat these past two days. A blister developed under my tongue, and it burst when I brushed my teeth this morning. Now it looks like it’s turning into a canker sore.”
“Did you eat anything spicy?” Lu Zhi put the towel aside and gestured for her to come closer.
Rong Yin walked over. “No, the day before yesterday, someone on set handed out snacks. I had a few pieces of crispy rice cracker, just a few…”
Lu Zhi pulled her to sit on the vanity stool, crooking a finger under her chin to lift it. Rong Yin was still explaining volubly: “When the blister started forming yesterday, I drank so much water trying to suppress it, but it didn’t work. Just earlier, brushing my teeth, I accidentally bumped it again, and now it hurts a lot.”
Lu Zhi murmured an acknowledgment. “Let me see.”
Rong Yin tilted her slender neck back, opened her mouth, and obediently curled her little tongue.
Lu Zhi examined the area under the light. On the tender underside of the tongue, amidst the fine blood vessels, there was indeed an abnormal patch of red. The thin mucosal layer was broken. Though it hadn’t ulcerated yet, it probably wouldn’t hold out much longer.
“Did you ask Little Wen to buy medicine?” Lu Zhi inquired.
Little Wen was the new assistant Lu Zhi had hired.
Given Rong Yin’s pickiness about the assistant position, Lu Zhi didn’t bother trying to find a proper personal assistant for her right away. For now, she handled part of the duties herself and got two staff members from HR. Nominally working as assistants to the agent, one was actually assigned to Zhou Mingming, and the other to follow Rong Yin.
After all, Lu Zhi’s responsibilities didn’t permit her to be with Rong Yin twenty-four-seven.
Rong Yin blinked. “I forgot.”
Lu Zhi naturally didn’t blame her. She went downstairs and retrieved a canker sore patch from the stock of first-aid supplies she’d bought last time.
“Ah, you even bought these.” Rong Yin couldn’t help exclaiming in amazement.
Lu Zhi smiled. She tore open the packaging, pinched off a small piece of the patch with her fingertip, and with her other hand, gently held Rong Yin’s neck. Her thumb rested on the softest, most delicate part of Rong Yin’s jaw, applying slight pressure to keep her head tilted up.
Perhaps Lu Zhi’s gesture was too assertive, for Rong Yin, who had been relaxed a moment ago, felt her heart seize up under that grip. The soft palm against her neck seemed to ignite a roaring flame, making her whole body tremble slightly.
Uncomfortably, Rong Yin reached up and grabbed Lu Zhi’s wrist.
Lu Zhi glanced at the gesture but paid it no mind. She simply used two free fingers of her other hand to poke at Rong Yin’s closed lips. “Open your mouth, otherwise how can I apply it?”
Rong Yin tried hard to suppress her suddenly racing heart. Her gaze moved from Lu Zhi’s smiling eyes down to her delicate, slightly aquiline nose. She swallowed before opening her mouth.
Lu Zhi leaned in, holding the patch. A few droplets of water from her damp dark hair fell onto Rong Yin’s face. Strangely, at that moment, it was as if Rong Yin’s senses had been suddenly heightened. Every trace of Lu Zhi’s fragrance, every breath, every touch was amplified infinitely.
Even the moisture clinging to the other woman’s body, just after soaking in the bath, felt like a chill, crisp fragrance rushing towards her.
“Don’t pull your tongue back.” She heard Lu Zhi say in a very soft voice.
Rong Yin’s eyelashes fluttered. Her body almost forgot where her tongue was. Then she felt a cool fingertip touch inside her mouth.
“Stick it out a bit.”
Light, teasing words, like coaxing a shy little girl.
The fiery blush on Rong Yin’s cheeks had already spread to her earlobes. Stiffly, she extended the tip of her tongue. A moment later, the cool, paper-like medicated patch was applied.
Lu Zhi lowered her hand and reminded her, “Keep it there, don’t lick it.”
Rong Yin was still obediently tilting her little head back. Her mouth was closed now, but her tongue was suspended awkwardly in her mouth, unable for a moment to find its usual resting state.
Lu Zhi’s gaze fell naturally on Rong Yin’s glistening eyes and pink cheeks. Her hand, still holding Rong Yin’s neck, unconsciously rubbed upward, stroking her smooth jaw soothingly, like one would pet a cat, before finally letting go.
“The weather’s been dry lately, easy to get excess heat. I’ll have Little Wen bring you some herbal flower tea tomorrow,” Lu Zhi said, her fingers giving Rong Yin’s small face a comforting pat.
She then took two steps back, finding the towel she’d been using to dry her hair earlier, and continued, “You should eat more fruit on set. Things like crispy rice crackers and chips—absolutely not anymore.”
Rong Yin stared fixedly at Lu Zhi. Only when the other woman shot her an emphatic glance did she seem to remember to nod.
“Alright, go back to your room and sleep early. Staying up late also encourages excess heat; don’t let another blister pop up tomorrow.” Lu Zhi lifted her chin, signaling Rong Yin to return to her own room.
With the medicated patch still in her mouth, Rong Yin didn’t even dare speak, only letting out a monosyllabic hum. Dutifully, she stood up from the vanity stool.
Just before she stepped out the door, Lu Zhi’s voice sounded from behind her again.
“Oh, right. I’ll be taking Mingming out for the location shoot in a couple of days.”
Rong Yin looked back.
“About half a month, back around late October.”
