Afternoon, master bedroom.
Su Qianqian curled up on the window-side armchair, her delicate bare feet tucked beneath her. A script lay open across her lap, her fingertips absently tracing the pages, though her glossy almond eyes were distant, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.
[Host, this is the footage of Lin Shu and Qiao Xi’s conversation last night.]
The mechanical voice of System 007 echoed in Su Qianqian’s mind, followed by the playback of the two women conspiring the night before.
[Hmph.] Su Qianqian let out an almost imperceptible scoff, her fingers tapping the edge of the script with a hint of understanding.
[This original female lead is truly slippery.]
[The producer was "accidentally" tipped off by Qiao Xi, while Lin Shu? She just played the kind senior, graciously offering me an audition chance.]
[She’s washed her hands so clean—who could possibly fault her?]
She paused, as if unsatisfied, then added with a touch of disdain: [So cunning!]
Su Qianqian thought for a moment, then had 007 replay a few scenes of Lin Shu bullying the original body’s owner.
The first was on set.
Lin Shu, holding a freshly poured cup of scalding coffee, "tripped," sending the liquid splashing onto the original owner’s slender wrist, leaving an angry red burn.
But Lin Shu merely offered a breezy, "Oops, my grip slipped," her eyes devoid of remorse, only a cold, dismissive superiority.
The second was in a hallway.
The original owner hurried forward, arms laden with a heavy box of costumes, her vision blocked. Though the corridor could easily fit two, Lin Shu, displeased at not being given way, shoved the box hard with her hand.
The box crashed to the floor, clothes scattering as the original owner stumbled and fell, landing in a humiliated heap.
Lin Shu didn’t even glance back, striding past in her heels.
The third was in a break room.
After a scolding from the director, Lin Shu took her frustration out on the original owner, pointing a manicured finger and hissing venomous insults—"idiot," "worthless trash." The original owner stood trembling, head bowed, silent tears hitting the floor.
[Enough, stop.] Su Qianqian cut off the playback. She didn’t want to see any more.
Lin Shu had carried out these acts so naturally, as if it weren’t even bullying. In her eyes, people like the original owner—those at the bottom—were born to endure her temper.
Yet Su Qianqian remembered Lin Shu’s background: she, too, had once been trampled underfoot.
Why had she become the very monster she once despised?
The faint smile on Su Qianqian’s lips faded entirely.
Her usually soft, innocent face now carried an uncharacteristic chill, distant and detached.
[007.]
[What’s the total estimated value of Lin Shu’s current assets—real estate, savings, stocks, everything?]
System 007 responded promptly: [Approximately 1 billion RMB.]
[One billion?] Su Qianqian repeated the number softly, her rosy lips pressing together.
She lifted her gaze to the glittering city skyline beyond the window, her expression distant.
[She’s only been in Gu Chengyu’s favor, let alone this circle, for barely three years.]
[And she’s already amassed this much?]
007 analyzed: [Half of Lin Shu’s earnings go to the Shen Group, so her actual take isn’t that high.]
[The rest? Jewelry, apartments—all gifts from Gu Chengyu. Those make up the other half.]
[After all, he’s famously generous with women.]
Su Qianqian’s mind flashed to Gu Chengyu casually gifting diamonds worth millions to others, and a petty irritation bubbled up uncontrollably.
Her plush lower lip jutted out in a sulky pout, brimming with dissatisfaction and spoiled indignance.
She even lifted one slender foot and gave the sofa’s plush edge a light, frustrated kick.
"Hmph!" A clear, jealous huff cut through the quiet bedroom.
She turned away from the window, glaring instead at the script in her lap as if it were the face of that spendthrift scoundrel.
Her delicate finger jabbed at a random word on the page, and she muttered under her breath, her voice soft, wounded, and accusatory: [So all the money he made before went to pampering other women.]
Su Qianqian stewed in her sulk, her cheeks puffing up like an aggrieved little pufferfish.
But she was never one to stay upset for long.
[No matter.]
Her voice regained its usual sweetness: [However much he gave away, I’ll just make him pay it back—with interest.]
[Lin Shu wants to walk away clean? I won’t allow it.]
Su Qianqian narrowed her eyes slightly, like a kitten finally unsheathing its tiny, sharp claws.
