Although countless comments on the original novel had cursed Li Jia as utterly heartless, Ye Chengxing never felt that way about her—not even during the finale, when the villain had fully blackened.
If Li Jia were truly inhuman, she wouldn’t have called off an entire bombing plot just because a little girl handed her a lollipop.
Ye Chengxing was willing to believe in her. Even if the woman standing before her now wasn’t the pre-blackening villain but the fully twisted Li Jia from the story’s end, she would still believe.
Ye Chengxing spoke those words lightly, but they landed in Li Jia’s ears like an immense weight.
A mere few seconds passed, yet they stretched on like an eternity. Li Jia lowered her gaze, no longer meeting Ye Chengxing’s eyes.
The Omega’s hand tightened slowly around the gift box.
Reluctantly, she admitted to herself deep down—
This freak really had some talent.
…
The tutor Ye Chengxing had hired arrived with impressive speed—today, no less.
Though artificial intelligence made many things convenient these days, its coverage in education remained limited.
The tutor was a graduate student from A University who had only recently returned to the country. She’d barely adjusted to the time difference when Ye Chengxing lured her over with a lavish offer.
Li Jia stared at the tutor who had just shown up at the door, a rare flicker of bewilderment crossing her face.
Ye Chengxing had mentioned hiring a tutor for her beforehand, it was true.
But Li Jia had assumed it was just idle talk, like all that chatter about sending her to school. She hadn’t actually expected… this?
Ye Chengxing seemed very pleased with the tutor. She turned to Li Jia, noticing a single stubborn strand of hair sticking up from the top of her head, and reached out to smooth it down. Her voice carried a smile. “I’m heading out for a bit. Study hard with the teacher, and message me if anything comes up.”
With that, Ye Chengxing gave the tutor a slight nod and pushed open the door to head downstairs.
Li Jia stood in the room, her gaze unconsciously drifting toward the window. A few seconds later, she caught sight of Ye Chengxing leaving the building. The woman wore a custom-tailored coat, her languid long curls spilling down her back, and long, straight legs emerging from beneath the hem. Li Jia could almost hear the sharp click of high heels striking the pavement.
She recalled the Alpha’s recent gesture and words, her fingertips curling ever so slightly.
But Li Jia quickly came back to herself, sneering coldly in her mind.
Sugar-coated bullets, nothing more.
Still, since the woman had actually gone through with hiring a tutor, school might be next. There could be ways to exploit that.
She would tolerate her presence a little longer. Once she revealed her true face and outlived her usefulness, Li Jia would kill her without a second thought.
Li Jia mused coldly.
The tutor standing nearby noticed that she kept staring downstairs, maintaining the same pose even after Ye Chengxing’s figure had vanished from sight. Unable to help themselves, they sighed aloud. “You and your sister have such a close bond. You’re this reluctant to let her go, even for a quick errand.”
Hearing the tutor’s voice, Li Jia pulled her gaze away.
The Omega let out the faintest, most delicate smile—as if in agreement, or perhaps laced with some other ambiguous intent.
“Yeah,” she said, turning back around. A sincere smile curved her lips, her tone polite and proper. Her hair swayed gently with the motion, accentuating the girl’s vibrant youthfulness. No matter how one looked at her, she evoked the image of a fresh flower unfurling beneath the morning sun. “Let’s get started, then, Teacher.”
Ye Chengxing had her assistant reach out to the company Li Jia had once been with. She had no intention of dragging her feet on this, so she’d arranged the meeting immediately upon Li Jia’s discharge from the hospital.
As the villain, Li Jia’s early storyline in the original plot received scant detail. It focused far more on her later acts of vengeance, cruelty, and utter depravity. The finer points of her early days had come from separate text dumps provided by the System.
Even so, Ye Chengxing had no clear idea what sort of contract Li Jia had signed with Starflash Entertainment back then. The only certainty was that it hadn’t expired yet.
Breach penalties were no obstacle. Right now, Ye Chengxing simply wanted to yank Li Jia out of that den of scum. She’d already set people to investigate the matter thoroughly. Once the contract was terminated, she would make those bastards pay in full for their actions.
The bodyguards drove her there today, in keeping with the original host’s habits—traveling almost always meant bringing a few along. For good measure, Ye Chengxing had added extras.
Starflash Entertainment sat in a somewhat remote spot, tucked away behind a cluster of buildings. Ye Chengxing had to circle around before locating it. She stood before the company’s entrance; from the outside, the decor looked rundown and dated, and it wasn’t exactly sprawling in size.
The receptionist, already alerted, led her up to the second floor.
As they reached the meeting room, Ye Chengxing instructed two bodyguards to accompany her inside while stationing the rest outside the door.
The moment she stepped into the meeting room, she subtly flicked on the recorder tucked in her pocket.
Only one person stood inside. Ye Chengxing’s gaze swept over him, and she recognized him at once. She’d never forget that face from the plot footage.
This was the agent who had brought Li Jia back all those years ago—Lin Que.
“Miss Ye, I’ve heard so much about you.”
Lin Que’s smile widened upon seeing her. He pulled out a chair for her, poured a glass of water—his expression dripping with fawning sycophancy.
Ye Chengxing’s brows furrowed slightly. She took the seat but ignored the water he’d poured.
“Lin Que, you know why I’m here. Let’s cut to the chase: terminating Li Jia’s contract.”
Her bluntness didn’t faze him. He kept smiling, though a note of feigned sentiment crept in. “No wonder everyone’s saying you’ve been slipped a love potion lately, Miss Ye. Ignoring old friends for some little lover—and now you’ve even come to our humble little outfit.”
Ye Chengxing didn’t engage, merely letting out a mocking laugh.
Stung by her scoff, Lin Que cleared his throat and put on a troubled expression. “Miss Ye, it’s not that I don’t want to cancel it…”
Ye Chengxing’s fingertip rapped the desk, cutting him off. “No bullshit. Show me the contract first.”
At her renewed demand, Lin Que’s smile held steady. He produced the contract with practiced ease and slid it across to her.
A thin sheaf of pages. By the time Ye Chengxing finished reading, her fingers had clenched so hard that creases marred the paper.
A fifty-year contract. Starflash Entertainment covered Li Jia’s living expenses until adulthood; in exchange, every cent from her post-adult activities—paychecks, endorsements, all of it—went straight to the company. For good behavior, they’d toss her five hundred yuan a month as a “bonus.”
Bonus, her ass.
What a fucking joke of a bonus. Have they no shame?
Ye Chengxing stared at the stark black letters on white paper—and at Li Jia’s childish scrawl at the bottom. Her expression turned utterly frigid.
Seeing her eyes linger on the signature line, Lin Que sighed with what seemed like genuine reminiscence. “Li Jia had it rough back then, poor kid—covered in wounds, couldn’t even write her own name right. I taught her how. Miss Ye, you might think the contract’s harsh, but we’ve been the ones footing the bill and nurturing her all these years. Surely you’ve heard of repaying kindness with kindness.”
Ye Chengxing’s grip tightened on the contract as she listened to Lin Que’s shameless blather.
Sensing her rising fury, he maintained his smile’s curve and sighed again. “Miss Ye, you didn’t see her like that back then. If I hadn’t stepped in and taken her away, an Omega going into differentiation right there on the street would’ve been toyed with to death. When you get down to it, I’m Li Jia’s lifesaver…”
With a sharp slap, the contract hit the table, silencing Lin Que mid-sentence.
“Lin Que, do you really think your dirty deeds are foolproof?” Ye Chengxing fixed her icy gaze on the still-smirking Beta.
At her words, the smile finally slipped from Lin Que’s face. “Miss Ye, I was hoping to keep things amicable, but it sounds like you’re dead set on termination?”
Ye Chengxing regarded him wordlessly.
A brief silence fell over the room. Then, abruptly, Lin Que laughed again.
“You’re right, I can’t compare to a ‘good Samaritan’ like you, Miss Ye. But since you care so damn much about our Li Jia and can’t wait to sever her ties with the company, why not take a look at this first…” Chuckling uncontrollably, he reached out and pressed a button. A holographic video projection sprang to life in midair.
Ye Chengxing’s pupils contracted sharply at the sight of the Omega—naked, flushed, and writhing on screen.
