Now that it was cut short and dyed, though long enough to tie up, she rarely did so anymore except occasionally when showering without washing her hair.
Seeing Chi Yumo emerge, Shi Youwan set down her tablet and stood from the chair by the window.
The small round table was laden with breakfasts. “You didn’t eat last night; you must be hungry. I ordered both Chinese and Western; pick what you like.”
Looking at the table full of Chinese and Western cuisine, Chi Yumo felt unmoved.
As always, Shi Youwan’s care was very “thorough” and “thoughtful.” She never asked what she liked or disliked but gave her many choices.
The only time she had asked was about the color of the bougainvillea.
“After eating, take the cold-prevention medicine too.” Shi Youwan pointed to the medicine and water glass on the TV cabinet, then to the sofa. “Your backpack is there too. Your phone’s inside; the tablet got water-damaged, and your assistant took it yesterday.”
Chi Yumo raised her left hand, pointing to her left middle finger with her right, asking where the ring she wore yesterday was.
“You’re asking about the ring?” Shi Youwan understood, recalling Qiao Ke had taken it at the hospital. “It was removed during the checkup yesterday; it should be in your bag.”
Chi Yumo, in her coma, didn’t remember going to the hospital and had no intention of chatting more with Shi Youwan. She went to the sofa, sat down, and rummaged through her backpack. The ring and phone were in the inner pocket.
She put the ring back in the bag and picked up the phone with 20% battery. Ignoring the missed calls and unread messages on the home screen, she opened the notes app and typed.
[Thank you, President Shi, for taking me in. I have things to do today, so I won’t join you for breakfast. I’ll have Xue-jie contact Assistant Qiao about the fees I owe you.]
Chi Yumo walked to Shi Youwan and held out the phone horizontally for her to read.
As if nothing from the dream last night had happened, as if she had merely borrowed Shi Youwan’s bed innocently and slept alone.
Seeing the text on the screen, Shi Youwan nearly dropped her tablet.
As expected, once Xiao Mo woke, they became strangers again, and she could no longer get close.
But clearly, last night they had been intimate, rubbing cheeks and entwining.
“It’s still early; no need to rush. Shen Muxi will send someone to pick you up.” Not wanting to anger Chi Yumo, Shi Youwan compromised. “Xiao Mo, can you wait a bit longer?”
She set down the tablet, fetched hot water in a cup, took out several pills, and brought them to Chi Yumo. “Your health comes first; you must take the medicine.”
In the latter half of last night, Chi Yumo’s temperature had risen quite a bit. Shi Youwan had checked it three times at different intervals with a thermometer.
It was a false alarm—just a low fever.
The thermometer was from the hospital; the doctor had instructed to monitor Chi Yumo’s temperature overnight.
Health comes first. This wasn’t empty talk.
Chi Yumo extended her left thumb, bending it twice—a sign language “thank you.”
Then she took the pills from Shi Youwan’s palm, popped them into her mouth, took the water cup, and drank half a cup, swallowing them down.
Today, tomorrow, and the next round after—she couldn’t fall ill and collapse, or all her efforts would be wasted.
She then turned, placed the cup on the coffee table, slung her backpack over one shoulder, grabbed the shopping bag, and headed out. Shi Youwan reminded her, “Xiao Mo, you have a call on your phone.”
She had set her phone to silent yesterday afternoon; no ringtone or vibration yet.
Chi Yumo raised her right hand—it was Chen Qiuxue calling. “Hello, is this Miss Mo?”
Hearing a tap, Chen Qiuxue continued, “Miss Mo, I’m on my way to the hotel. About twenty minutes; time your descent.”
Chi Yumo tapped once more.
The call ended.
Assembly at nine a.m.; plenty of time, but the top 18 contestants were supposed to check into the organizer’s hotel last night.
But since Shen Muxi knew Shi Youwan had picked her up, the organizers had likely smoothed it over.
[My ride is here.]
She couldn’t stay in Shi Youwan’s room another minute.
She felt the faint lotus fragrance circling her, teasing her—not just in the air, but seemingly inside her body too.
After that darkest moment last year, she hadn’t experienced a susceptible period for over a year.
Had running into Shi Youwan revived the damn susceptible period? She’d rather degenerate into a Beta than endure that torment again.
Chi Yumo furrowed her brows, hesitated no longer, and strode out of the room like she was fleeing.
…
The heavy rain from yesterday didn’t stop until nightfall. By morning, puddles still dotted the roads, and the sky hung even darker than the day before.
A storm was brewing.
Shen Muxi’s company sat in the heart of the city center. On her recent vacation, she basically went to the office every day to check on operations, guide her artists, help them select scripts, and fight for audition opportunities.
At three in the afternoon, Xiao Wei braved the rain to personally deliver the revised contract to Shen Muxi’s company, apologizing for the previous day’s incident.
“President Shen, the contract has been updated per your request, raising the fee from 200,000 to 500,000. Any additional shoots or runway shows outside the contract will be compensated separately.”
“I guarantee you with my reputation that Fifth Miss didn’t force Mo Yu to do anything. Soaking in the water for two hours was Mo Yu’s own decision to secure this contract. In that regard, Miss Mo’s courage and boldness are truly admirable, and you didn’t misjudge her, President Shen.”
Shen Muxi accepted the contract.
The extra 300,000 could serve as mental compensation for Mo Yu’s ordeal.
Soaking in cold water for two hours in exchange for a brand ambassadorship was lucky compared to the small-time actors who rotated through drinks until they vomited—or worse, slept their way to a few minutes of screen time.
Who would turn down fame and fortune once it was in hand? Who would argue with money?
“Sister Xi, President Shi is here.”
“Please show her in.”
Not long after seeing Xiao Wei off, Shi Youwan called her, saying she wanted to meet. Shen Muxi knew the matter wouldn’t end so easily—Shi Youwan had surely come to hold her accountable.
Shi Youwan seemed detached from worldly strife, blending seamlessly into the crowd, which once made Shen Muxi think she was serene and desireless. But she’d grown a “reverse scale.”
And she’d gone and lost it.
Coincidentally, Shen Muxi had picked it up.
Before the charity gala, it felt like good luck. After the charity gala, it turned into bad luck.
Shen Muxi’s company couldn’t compare to Shifeng Group in scale—its employees were a fraction, and its office space even less.
Take her own boss’s office: it was only about a fifth the size of Shi Youwan’s presidential suite.
She and her brother Shen Munian had visited Shifeng Building once together, and she’d toured the president’s office in person. Those were distant memories from when Shi Youwan’s Alpha mother still held power.
She greeted Shi Youwan as she entered. The assistant asked, “President Shi, tea or coffee?”
“Just boiled water.”
“Right away.”
Qiao Ke and Zhang Kai waited outside. After the assistant brought the water, she left too.
Behind her back, Shen Muxi cursed Shi Youwan as a “madwoman” without hesitation. But face-to-face, Shi Youwan was her sister-in-law’s older sister, barely counting as half a sibling.
She couldn’t curse her outright.
Doing so would make her arrogant and disrespectful.
Shen Muxi rose from her executive chair and walked to the sofas in the reception area. “President Shi, you’ve come today wanting an explanation for Mo Yu?”
She held the contract Xiao Wei had delivered and was about to say she’d already gotten one when Shi Youwan changed the subject.
“President Shen hears everything—surely you’re aware of what kind of person that Li Longfeng is?”
“I’m not in business; I only hear entertainment circle gossip.” Shen Muxi sat diagonally across from Shi Youwan, placing the contract and the door remote on the coffee table as she leaned against the armrest. “Even the MENAS chairman gives me some face—how much trouble could his daughter cause?”
In truth, after her agent’s report, she’d called Xiao Wei again to apply pressure, explicitly stating Mo Yu wouldn’t be forced to drink or entertain guests. He had to ensure she emerged unscathed for the deal to proceed amicably.
She knew little about Li Longfeng beyond her being a pretty mixed-race beauty. Her agent hadn’t dug up much.
“It seems President Shen hasn’t fully ensured the safety of her artists.” Shi Youwan tossed the file folder she’d carried since entering onto the coffee table.
“With that in mind, once this competition yields results, I’ll return to discuss Mo Yu’s contract termination with your company. After that, whatever path Mo Yu chooses, I’ll guide her myself.”
Madwoman.
Shen Muxi cursed inwardly again.
Angry as she was, she couldn’t let it show.
She could guess the file’s contents: either detailed intel on Li Longfeng or Mo Yu’s termination agreement.
One was history, the other uncertain—neither needed immediate review. She had to steady the situation first.
With a mocking smile, she twirled a lock of hair around her finger and looked at Shi Youwan dismissively. “President Shi, are you so certain Mo Yu will go with you?”
Shi Youwan’s expression remained calm. “That’s my concern—not yours, President Shen.”
Whatever mindset, motive, or goal had driven Xiao Mo into the entertainment industry, coaxing her back and keeping her close was better than letting her wander into an uncertain future.
Shi Youwan had already planned: if Xiao Mo insisted on this path, she’d “beg” Wen Ruoyi.
Wen Ruoyi had shifted behind the scenes as a producer these past two years. Shi Youwan could invest in a cultural entertainment company, with Wen Ruoyi as the public face.
Then sign Xiao Mo under it, overseeing all her…
Wen Ruoyi was Xiao Mo’s idol—that phone case with her signature was one of the few items Xiao Mo had taken with her.
If Wen Ruoyi personally invited Xiao Mo to join, surely she wouldn’t refuse?
Shen Muxi couldn’t read Shi Youwan’s schemes, but she saw an almost obsessive protectiveness and possessiveness in her eyes.
This was veering into “pathological” territory.
Knock knock knock.
The assistant knocked again.
Shen Muxi pressed the remote, and the door lock clicked.
The assistant pushed open the door. “Sister Xi, Mo Yu’s here at the company. She said you asked her to come sign the contract.”
