Chapter 6

Laughter erupted around them.

Yu Shan’s height had always been her Achilles’ heel. In an era where female celebrities averaged 170 centimeters tall, she was a full head shorter than Leng Xiang.

Jiang Sisi watched the confrontation with her arms crossed. Leng Xiang sneered, refusing to yield an inch. Yu Shan’s three fatal words had struck her dead center, and the follow-up jab hit her most embarrassing weak spot. She knew nothing about body mechanics or inertial fluid dynamics, but she knew full well that she had deliberately fallen.

Her scheme had failed, and she trembled with rage. Pointing at Leng Xiang’s nose, she shrieked, “Don’t think I don’t know what kind of trash you are! Excellence Media shelved you because you deliberately seduced the higher-ups, played the mistress, and tried to climb the ladder! You’re just a slut!”

Leng Xiang’s face darkened instantly.

Memories she’d buried deep in her mind, nearly forgotten and moldering away, were dragged out by Yu Shan’s words. The expressions around her shifted dramatically—speculation, doubt, leering gazes, all of it, as if they were stripping her bare. She felt utterly exposed, naked before the crowd.

Seeing Leng Xiang’s hand clench tight, Yu Shan grew even more smug. “Qin Wen is mine now. He’s dumped you. See, when it comes to being the other woman, only winning matters. Who would want a worn-out shoe like you?”

The bartender nearby couldn’t stand it anymore. “That’s enough.”

Leng Xiang’s fingers dug into her flesh, her knuckles white. She looked ready to slap the woman in front of her, but a shred of reason held her back.

She’d heard such gossip for years. Few dared hurl it so blatantly in her face, but she knew exactly how the internet had trashed her back then.

Even after all this time, she remembered it crystal clear.

That had been her hardest year. Roles vanished for inexplicable reasons, schedules pushed back indefinitely. Confirmed parts were suddenly recast by higher-ups—take a different role or accept the penalty fee and leave the production.

Meanwhile, rumors exploded online: she’d seduced executives to advance, failed, and gotten shelved as punishment.

The whispers snowballed into belief, culminating in her total downfall.

Her image as the highly anticipated rising star plummeted overnight. All that fame vanished like soap bubbles.

Leng Xiang wasn’t one to shy from hardship or injustice. She’d endured grueling shoots in blistering heat and freezing cold. These ups and downs, this plunge into the abyss—she was used to such stares.

Spotting Leng Xiang’s clenched fist, Yu Shan crowed triumphantly. “What, you gonna hit me? Come on, I’m not scared of you!”

Yu Shan was certain Leng Xiang wouldn’t dare make a scene here.

Leng Xiang thought the same. Everyone was watching—the Black Pool bartender and bodyguard were right there. Black Pool incidents stayed confidential, never leaked, but getting thrown out for fighting would look terrible.

Besides, her Gold Card came from Shen Cheng, who had kindly invited her to unwind. She couldn’t embarrass Shen Cheng.

She was already washed up. The public eye had finally shifted from her scandal. Another incident like this would bury her for good.

…

A whirlwind of thoughts raced through Leng Xiang’s mind. Her face expressionless, she raised her hand and slapped Yu Shan hard. The sharp crack echoed loudly.

No matter how much reason screamed not to be impulsive, her reflexes acted first.

She could already imagine the fallout. Black Pool’s secrecy was ironclad, but word of mouth at the scene would spread. Her identity would be dug up, and the industry would know she’d brawled at Black Pool Bar. Her days would only get worse.

Calm and rational, she struck anyway. The slap stunned Yu Shan, knocking her mask to the floor. The mask’s edge scraped a small gash on her skin, and a vivid handprint bloomed on her cheek.

Yu Shan stared at Leng Xiang in disbelief. As she opened her mouth to curse, Leng Xiang backhanded her other cheek. The symmetrical prints looked almost comical.

Yu Shan clutched her face, shock turning to fury, her eyes promising to tear Leng Xiang apart.

But in her peripheral vision, she spotted a woman approaching from behind Leng Xiang. It was like a bucket of ice water doused her from head to toe. She stumbled back two steps.

Leng Xiang had slapped her twice and raised her hand for a third when someone grabbed her wrist.

The person gripping her was as tall as Leng Xiang, if not taller. Leng Xiang was already considered statuesque in the industry, but this woman seemed even taller.

Jiang Sisi’s grip was soft, but the strength undeniable. Her fingers pressed into the pulse point on Leng Xiang’s wrist, pinching just right. Leng Xiang’s arm went instantly limp, drained of power.

Leng Xiang tried to shake free but couldn’t. Frowning, she turned to see a face concealed by a silver mask.

Black Pool’s rules dictated masks by status. Colored ones—red, orange, yellow, blue—for regular members. Black for Gold Card VIPs. Silver masks were exclusive to the bar’s shadowy boss.

The exquisite silver mask covered the woman’s face completely, revealing only her jawline, sideburns, and eyes glinting with subtle amusement.

Leng Xiang barely knew Jiang Sisi. Due to past bad blood, she’d avoided even glancing her way at events.

So she didn’t recognize the silver-masked woman.

Black Pool Bar hadn’t seen trouble in ages. Jiang Sisi hadn’t planned to intervene, but hands escalating to blows changed that.

Leng Xiang frowned at the interloper. She hadn’t visited Black Pool in years, but she knew the silver mask protocol.

This woman was Black Pool’s boss?

Her features were obscured, save for those dark eyes holding a hint of laughter.

Leng Xiang lowered her hand, and the woman released her accordingly.

Leng Xiang flexed her wrist; the numb weakness had faded. She gave the silver-masked woman an extra glance.

Jiang Sisi casually instructed the bartender and A Ze to get back to work. The DJ caught the boss’s signal and resumed the music. The crowd returned to dancing.

She gestured for Leng Xiang and Yu Shan to follow her to a small booth at the other end of the bar.

Yu Shan deflated completely, her earlier bravado gone.

Leng Xiang didn’t recognize Jiang Sisi, but Yu Shan did.

Yu Shan looked at her pitifully. “Director Jiang—”

She caught herself mid-word, remembering Black Pool’s no-real-names rule. Cold sweat broke out as she recalled blurting Leng Xiang’s name earlier.

Yu Shan was a newbie in the industry. Her first role had been a vapid vase character in one of Jiang Sisi’s films. She’d begged shamelessly, leveraging Qin Wen’s connection, to snag a Black Pool membership card from Jiang Sisi. She’d hoped to cozy up tonight, but seeing Leng Xiang—a Gold Card VIP—sparked jealousy that made her forget the rules.

Yu Shan fell silent. Leng Xiang watched coldly. The silver-masked woman hadn’t said a word, yet Yu Shan cowered like a plucked rooster.

Jiang Sisi said flatly, “Apologize.”

Yu Shan gritted her teeth. “…Sorry.”

Leng Xiang raised an eyebrow, glancing at the silver-masked woman a few more times.