The original plot treated these early scenes as mere background, barely touching on them in the main storyline.
Ye Chengxing felt chills running through her one moment and feverish heat the next. The cold came from how utterly vile and repulsive the threat was; the heat was pure, uncontainable rage.
The video soon ended, and Lin Que’s voice rang out again, still laced with amusement. “Miss Ye, when you think about it, this is Li Jia’s very first proper appearance in front of the public. Have you seen what the netizens are saying? Everyone’s praising her, saying they like her. What a promising future she has ahead. Since you care about her so much, you wouldn’t want some nude photos and videos to send her career crashing down, right?”
“You know what would happen,” Lin Que continued, seeing that Ye Chengxing had fallen silent. He laughed without restraint. “Once a video like this leaks, what do you think the fallout would be? No one would dare hire an artist tangled up in a sex scandal.”
At those words, Ye Chengxing’s head snapped up to stare at Lin Que.
In that moment, she could scarcely imagine what Li Jia must have endured in the original plot.
Lin Que met her gaze and immediately hugged his shoulders in an exaggerated show of fear—though the grin on his face only grew wider. “Miss Ye, don’t look at me like that. And tell your bodyguard to back off too. If you scare me, who knows? These photos and videos might just go public right away.”
Ye Chengxing discreetly dug her nails into her palm. Her fingertips went faintly numb from the tangled storm of anger, disgust, revulsion, and more.
…Don’t lose your cool.
She repeated the words to herself inwardly. Remembering the recorder in her pocket, she looked back at Lin Que—and smiled.
That smile unnerved Lin Que a little, filling him with a mix of fear and panic. But then he remembered what he held over her, and his confidence surged. Even if Ye Chengxing wanted to make a move now, she’d have to think twice about those photos and videos.
Besides, how many rich and powerful people were ever sincere? She was probably here out of mere novelty right now. It would fade in time. Once the thrill wore off, she’d likely forget Li Jia’s name entirely and dive into the arms of the next new plaything.
Lin Que didn’t see this as any big deal. Give it a little time, and Ye Chengxing might even get bored and ask him to help scout some replacements. Things would smooth over nicely then.
With that in mind, the Beta spread his hands and shrugged. “Miss Ye, I get it—this is your first time keeping such a beautiful little pet. That novelty is understandable. Maybe she cries a little, and suddenly you’re ready to go through fire and water for a smile from her. I understand completely. But don’t forget who you are… or who she is. You could have anyone you want. Is tearing into me like this really worth it? Miss Ye, we’re the real friends here…”
Ye Chengxing didn’t bother listening to the rest. She stood up.
Lin Que remained seated, unmoving.
“Li Jia isn’t some pet I’m keeping. She’s a person,” she said, looking down at him. Even though he was just a Beta, in that instant, Lin Que felt the oppressive pressure radiating from her Alpha presence. “I’m taking this contract. I hope you can keep smiling like that. Don’t go getting yourself killed.”
She had recorded everything she needed. Ye Chengxing switched off the device, delivered her parting words with casual indifference, snatched the contract from the table, and left the conference room with her bodyguard.
Lin Que watched her retreating back. Once it sank in, he burst into even louder laughter.
He’d heard rumors that the Ye Family’s young miss had changed her ways, but he’d doubted it. Even at the start of their meeting today, he’d assumed it was all an act. He never imagined it was genuine—and that she’d actually say something like “Li Jia isn’t my pet; she’s a person.” Clearly, she was head over heels.
Lin Que laughed for a good long while before finally reining it in. His amusement didn’t fade, though. Thinking back on her parting words still cracked him up. He promptly drafted a message and sent it to a few of his usual spoiled rich kid contacts.
Something this hilarious was too good to keep to himself.
…
After leaving Starflash Entertainment, Ye Chengxing’s expression remained icy.
The accompanying bodyguards didn’t dare make a sound. That was, until one of the newer ones—the same bodyguard who had entered the conference room with her—spoke up in outrage. “Miss Ye, scum like that is bound to get his comeuppance.”
Before Ye Chengxing could respond, the more veteran bodyguards, who had served the Ye Family long enough to know exactly how duplicitous she could be, all shuddered in unison.
How could anyone say something like that? It was sure to anger the young miss. They couldn’t help sweating for the newbie.
A few even shot warning glances at her.
The new bodyguard caught the looks but was too worked up to hold back. She launched into another tirade against Lin Que. Besides, what was the harm? The young miss was a good person—she wasn’t anywhere near as terrifying as they made her out to be.
Ye Chengxing listened to the young bodyguard’s words and let out a soft sigh. The others immediately assumed the newbie wouldn’t live to see nightfall. But then they heard Ye Chengxing speak. “Scum like that will get his comeuppance. And if fate doesn’t deliver it, I’ll make sure he does.”
The young bodyguard reacted first, clenching her fist fiercely. “Exactly! We’ll make him pay, Miss Ye!”
The other bodyguards stared at one another for a few stunned seconds. If anything, they grew even more terrified.
Had the young miss lost her mind from anger? Was she planning to silence every bodyguard here???
Once back in the car, Ye Chengxing fully regained her composure. The main reason was a message from her assistant, which boiled down to one point: Lin Que had powerful backers. Digging into him would take time and wouldn’t be easy.
She stared at the message for a long while before closing the screen.
It was true—this wouldn’t be simple.
Lin Que clearly wasn’t a first-time offender, and he and his allies had become deeply intertwined through these kinds of deals. Unraveling it all would be an uphill battle.
But no matter how hard, she had to give it her all.
These people would pay for their actions.
Ye Chengxing schooled her features and began plotting her next moves in her mind.
The recording was solid evidence, but audio alone wasn’t enough. She needed to flip the situation entirely in her favor, turning defense into total offense.
As she pondered, a faint sound caught her ear. It grew louder—the rain had started outside.
And it was coming down hard.
The young bodyguard had taken another escort vehicle, leaving the car deathly quiet. Every breath was audible.
The bodyguard driving noticed the downpour and had to speak up. “Miss Ye, where to next…?”
Ye Chengxing pressed her brow. Her thoughts were too jumbled right now; she couldn’t sort them out. Better to head back, plan every step carefully, then act.
She was on the verge of saying “Back to the villa” when a sudden thought struck her: all those nutrient liquids with their identical bland flavors, and the ultra-basic dishes that tasted just as generic.
Over the past couple of days, she’d gotten a clear picture of food in this world.
What she saw as everyday cooking was ancient gourmet fare here—long lost to time. Aside from nutrient liquids mass-produced to exact specs, the only real food available was painfully simple stuff.
Even that was rare, monopolized by a few. Recipes were top secret, service reserved for the elite, and the few items sold publicly cost a fortune. Most people settled for nutrient liquid: cheap, convenient, quick.
In this world, good food—no, even ordinary food—had become a priceless luxury.
With that realization, the words on the tip of Ye Chengxing’s tongue changed course. “Not back to the villa yet. Let’s go buy some things first.” She was sick of that stuff. Better to pick up ingredients and make her own.
The bodyguard acknowledged and turned at the next intersection.
The rain was heavy, but traffic was still thick. By the time they’d bought ingredients and some cookware and returned to the villa, it was already afternoon.
The car always carried umbrellas, so Ye Chengxing didn’t get a drop on her despite the sudden storm. Still, she carried a bit of dampness on her clothes.
That moisture evaporated the moment she stepped through the front door, courtesy of Xiao Bai’s enthusiastic welcome. The little thing gurgled warmly all the way over, drying her off. It even tried to help her out of her jacket.
Feeling awkward, Ye Chengxing took off the jacket herself and handed it to Xiao Bai.
Her gaze drifted to the staircase rising nearby. She couldn’t help wondering what Li Jia was up to right now.
The tutor should have left by this time.
Ye Chengxing turned toward the stairs, but before her foot touched the first step, a pleasant voice drifted down from above. “Sister, you’re back.”
Li Jia was holding a pen without its cap. The Omega’s eyes curved into delighted crescents. On the surface, she seemed simply thrilled to see Ye Chengxing home—pure, unfiltered joy.
Seeing Li Jia, Ye Chengxing’s furrowed brow smoothed instantly. All the heaviness from her deliberations melted away, replaced by a gentle smile. “Yeah, just got back.”
In Li Jia’s presence, she didn’t want to seem weighed down. She certainly didn’t want the other woman sensing anything deeper. Li Jia had only recently started smiling again after leaving that place. Ye Chengxing just wanted that smile to linger—a little longer, even longer. Forever, if possible.
