The previous day, Yu Qianshan's scandal had exploded across the internet, and the next day, Luo Yin's fans' extravagant spending dominated the trending searches.
The midnight giveaway reposts were still gaining traction when news broke that Luo Yin's birthday tribute video had been playing nonstop for hours on several high-rise LED screens open to the public.
Several fan clubs whose idols had birthdays coming up soon were losing their minds.
—What the hell is this called? Destroying the ecosystem!
Who celebrates birthdays like this? Do you have money flowing from your faucets at home?!
With such a lavish display, how are the rest of us supposed to compete? Might as well just drink the northwest wind!
We want a rich fan like this too! Let me do the promoting—I’m great at it!
…
Zhong Ziyan had gone to bed early the night before, not waiting for midnight, and only realized the next morning after breakfast that her Weibo followers had surged by hundreds of thousands, with her reposts, comments, and private messages completely flooded.
She casually opened her private messages and skimmed the top ten—five were from various handsome men sending risqué photos and asking if she needed "services," three were self-promotional pitches begging for investment in their "future million-dollar ventures," and two were fans trying to promote their favorite celebrities, asking if she was interested.
Zhong Ziyan: "…" Wei Hanyun is way richer—why don’t people swarm him like this?
After just that one glance, she coldly and mercilessly ignored all the notifications, confirmed that the fan club’s giveaway reposts were proceeding smoothly, and put her phone down.
Today’s deliveries still needed unpacking.
And the boss had specifically requested Buddha Jumps Over the Wall for dinner, so she had to prepare that too.
Zhong Ziyan stayed busy all day, completely oblivious to how the online buzz had escalated.
Yu Qianshan had his PR team monitoring the situation diligently all day and only relaxed slightly when the 24-hour birthday tribute on the LED screens finally switched to other content.
"Good work," Yu Qianshan patted his assistant’s shoulder. "Go rest—we have a press conference tomorrow morning."
As for how to address the rumors about him and Zhong Ziyan, Yu Qianshan didn’t dare make a careless decision. He even consulted his elders for advice.
Of course, without Wei Hanyun’s permission, he couldn’t outright reveal Zhong Ziyan’s identity—he just vaguely hinted at it.
The elders said, "The more cautious, the better," so Yu Qianshan made the call to hold a press conference, even inviting several major shareholders, scheduled for 10 AM the morning after Luo Yin’s birthday.
The next day, after arriving in City H, Yu Qianshan called Zhong Ziyan to ask if she would attend or not.
Zhong Ziyan asked, "Do you have a food delivery app?"
Yu Qianshan was baffled: "…Yes?"
Zhong Ziyan lowered her voice and instructed, "Order me a milk tea—large, with pudding, regular sweetness."
Still confused, Yu Qianshan hung up, placed the order, and decided to go all out by arranging a group meal for the team, instructing his assistant to set aside one cup for Zhong Ziyan when picking it up.
For the sake of a $2 milk tea, Zhong Ziyan left the house.
By the time she arrived at Houtu Tower, she could already see the reporters and staff maintaining order downstairs, along with a check-in desk in the lobby.
But this time, Zhong Ziyan’s car quietly took the VIP route, slipping into the company unnoticed by the press.
The VIP corridor wasn’t empty—a few other low-key black business cars had parked not far from hers.
There were only two VIP elevators, side by side, so Zhong Ziyan inevitably came face-to-face with Houtu’s other major shareholders.
The shareholders all knew each other, but Zhong Ziyan was a new face, drawing curious glances.
With the sunglasses her driver had handed her before she got out perched on her nose, Zhong Ziyan stood among the middle-aged suited businessmen, hands casually tucked in her pockets, completely unfazed by their scrutiny.
The elevator arrived from the underground garage with a soft ding.
Bai Ling stood inside, looking exhausted. She looked up and started, "Dad, you’re—"
Her words cut off abruptly when she saw Zhong Ziyan, her lips pressing into a tight line. "Zhong Ziyan, what are you doing here? Did you think just because Yu Qianshan took an interest in you, you could meddle in company affairs?"
"Bai Ling," one of the businessmen scolded sharply. "Mind the occasion."
Bai Ling paled, pressing the elevator’s door-open button as she stepped back. "Dad, Uncle, come in. We’re running late."
The suited businessmen filed in with their assistants.
Zhong Ziyan didn’t move, giving them a lazy nod. "I’ll wait for the next one."
"At least you know your place. This is the VIP elevator," Bai Ling sneered, staring at Zhong Ziyan. "Even if you could go up, the press conference isn’t something someone like you can just—"
Before she could finish, the other elevator doors slid open.
"Ms. Zhong!" Yu Qianshan jogged out, handing her a takeout bag with the milk tea inside. "I brought your drink down."
The previously listless Zhong Ziyan snatched the milk tea with lightning speed, discreetly glancing behind her.
—Had Wei Hanyun’s assigned driver noticed?
"Second Young Master Yu…?" Bai Shuangjiang held the elevator door open, staring at Yu Qianshan in disbelief.
He had never seen Yu Qianshan act so deferential toward anyone—even using "Ms."
Just who was this stunning woman, who could rival the most beautiful faces in the entertainment industry, and who Bai Ling had just rudely confronted?
Hearing the question, Yu Qianshan finally turned and gave Bai Shuangjiang and the others a perfunctory nod, as if only now noticing them. "I came down to fetch someone."
Bai Shuangjiang stiffened, hesitantly glancing at Zhong Ziyan, who was entirely focused on stabbing a straw into her milk tea, ignoring everyone else.
"Second Young Master Yu, let’s go up together," Bai Shuangjiang suggested.
Yu Qianshan slid a hand into his pocket and waved them off. "Too crowded. I’ll accompany Ms. Zhong on the next one."
Left with no choice, Bai Shuangjiang muttered an apology and released the elevator door.
Zhong Ziyan took a sip of her milk tea, looking up just in time to see Bai Ling’s stunned expression.
Bai Ling was visibly shaken by Yu Qianshan’s actions, her face drained of color, eyes wide with confusion and shock.
As the elevator doors closed, separating Bai Shuangjiang, Bai Ling, and the others from view, it felt like two different worlds had been divided.
Yu Qianshan pressed the elevator’s up button and asked casually, "Does Bai Ling have some grudge against you?"
"Not sure," Zhong Ziyan chewed on a tapioca pearl. "But she seems to have a lot of free time."
Enough to dedicate most of her energy to making trouble for others—her life must be pretty empty.
Yu Qianshan nodded. "After the press conference, there’s a shareholders’ meeting. I’ll handle it for you."
Zhong Ziyan studied the sharp-featured young man. "How will you handle it?"
This phrasing sounds like a Tokyo Bay cement barrel warning is coming next.
She remembered this was supposed to be a peaceful, low-martial, law-abiding world where her combat skills had no place.
"The Bai family is hardly worth your concern—leave it to me," Yu Qianshan said with a faint smirk, instinctively blocking the arriving elevator door and stepping aside to let Zhong Ziyan enter first. "In any case, she won’t trouble you again."
"Fine. Just don’t break the law." Zhong Ziyan slurped her milk tea and tucked herself into a blind spot in the elevator corner. "Also, don’t tell Wei Hanyun about me asking you to buy this milk tea."
Yu Qianshan: "…" Seriously, why would I go out of my way to report such an unflattering milk tea errand?
……
The atmosphere in the other elevator was entirely different—oppressive, like a storm brewing.
Those outside the Bai family couldn’t help but watch with thinly veiled amusement.
Bai Shuangjiang lowered his voice and asked his daughter, "What’s going on? Who was that woman just now?"
"She… she’s just a pitiful nobody with nothing left," Bai Ling stammered, nervously crumpling her skirt. "She was the one photographed with Second Young Master Yu the other day. I thought she was just selling herself to him—"
"Enough." Bai Shuangjiang cut her off sharply before turning to the man beside him. "What’s her name?"
"Her surname is Zhong," Bai’s second uncle quickly answered. "I’ve seen the records—nothing special except for her looks. If she’s connected to Second Young Master Yu, it’s probably just because of her face."
Someone in the elevator let out a derisive snort.
Bai Shuangjiang scowled and glanced around, but couldn’t pinpoint the culprit.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew Zhong Ziyan couldn’t be some simpleton trading on her beauty to climb the ranks via Yu Qianshan. Anyone who could command such deference from Yu Qianshan likely came from the upper echelons of power.
And somehow, his daughter Bai Ling had already made an enemy of her—even openly mocking her in front of so many people.
Bai Shuangjiang massaged his temples in frustration and snapped at Bai Ling as the elevator doors opened, "There’s still the shareholders’ meeting later. Keep your mouth shut and don’t cause any more trouble, understand?"
Bai Ling nodded, her eyes reddening.
Bai’s second uncle, taking pity, reassured her, "Second Young Master Yu is above such petty matters. This’ll blow over soon—don’t worry."
Bai Ling’s mind was a chaotic mess. She forced a weak smile. "Thank you, Second Uncle."
……
Yu Qianshan checked his watch as he stepped out of the elevator and led Zhong Ziyan straight to the grand conference hall where the press conference was being held.
The moment he appeared, camera flashes erupted like fireworks. Zhong Ziyan swiftly shoved her milk tea into the hands of Yu Qianshan’s assistant and adjusted her sunglasses. "I’ll come back for it later."
Assistant: "…Understood. I’ll keep it safe for you."
Bai Ling stood below the stage, watching Zhong Ziyan ascend, then saw Yu Qianshan pull out the central chair for her before taking his own seat. The sinking feeling that she was plummeting into hell grew stronger by the second.
Sure enough, after straightening his tie, Yu Qianshan spoke succinctly, "Thank you all for your concern. This is Miss Zhong, the current majority shareholder of Houtu Group, holding fifty-six percent of its shares. I act on her behalf."
Zhong Ziyan didn’t remove her sunglasses. She lounged beside Yu Qianshan with an air of disinterest, one hand propping her chin, the other scrolling through her phone—exuding an icy, untouchable aura.
Down below, Bai Ling recalled her own actions and was overwhelmed by fear and regret, trembling uncontrollably as she took a stumbling step back.
No wonder… because… this was no longer the Bai family’s company.
It was Zhong Ziyan’s.
