The young girl froze for a second upon hearing the audacious demand of "one in every color," her expression stiffening in disbelief.
Manager Wang, however, remained unflappable. "Of course, Miss Zhong."
Zhong Ziyan, mimicking the pretentious airs of her former teammates, gave a dignified nod to the mother-daughter pair standing opposite her. She gracefully tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before turning to leave.
Behind her, the girl’s face flushed crimson with rage, and she stomped her foot in frustration. "So what if she bought six bags? I could’ve bought them all too! And that violin earlier—I could’ve gotten it as well!"
"Enough," her mother scolded sharply, her expression darkening as she glared at Zhong Ziyan’s retreating figure. "She’s just spending someone else’s money without a care. Don’t pick up bad habits!"
Manager Wang’s sharp ears caught the slight, and he instinctively frowned, stealing a glance at Zhong Ziyan to gauge her reaction.
Zhong Ziyan had indeed heard it.
She pondered for a moment, genuinely curious how the woman had figured it out.
Of course, spending her own money would sting—but Wei Hanyun’s? Not at all!
The boss had assured her—no matter how much she spent in a year, he wouldn’t go bankrupt.
"I’ve had enough shopping for today," Zhong Ziyan cheerfully announced to Manager Wang. "Let’s head upstairs."
"Ah, the custom key cabinet you wanted earlier? Right this way." Relieved that she seemed unaffected by the earlier remark, Manager Wang guided her onward.
As the elevator ascended, Zhong Ziyan’s idle ears caught Wei Hanyun’s name amidst the chatter.
Her boss’s name instantly sharpened her focus.
A middle-aged man’s voice, hushed and slightly echoing, murmured, "...The Weis’ internal power struggles are like gods clashing—we’re just picking up the scraps. A little tampering with the funds in their subsidiary companies, done through old employees... They’ll never trace it back to us. Relax!"
Zhong Ziyan’s instincts flared: Touching my boss’s money is touching my money. Unforgivable.
The moment the elevator doors opened, she pulled out her phone. "I need to make a call. Where’s the studio?"
Manager Wang tactfully pointed the way. "Shall I wait for you there?"
Zhong Ziyan flashed an OK sign, scrolling through her contacts until she found Fang Nan’s number—but didn’t dial.
Instead, she headed for the restroom, scanning for security cameras before slipping out the window with the agility of her elven-enhanced physique. In one fluid motion, she swung down and re-entered through the window of the floor below—all in under a second.
Exiting the lower-floor restroom, she deftly avoided surveillance and soon spotted the middle-aged man, who had just ended his call.
She tapped him on the shoulder from behind.
Frowning, the man turned—only to gulp audibly at the sight of Zhong Ziyan’s face.
She smiled sweetly and hit him with a silent Confusion Spell, an effortless strike against his nonexistent magical resistance.
Dare to scheme against my boss (and his money)? Did you ask for my permission? I’m the one guarding his fortune!
...
The whole ordeal took Zhong Ziyan five minutes. She leisurely returned to the upper floor via the restroom.
The high-end restroom was immaculate, bathed in soft lighting and a soothing fragrance, even offering hand cream by the sinks.
After washing her hands, Zhong Ziyan calmly strolled to the studio.
After surviving battlefields drenched in blood, a simple Confusion Spell was child’s play.
"Please come in." Manager Wang waited at the door, bowing slightly when she arrived. He asked no questions.
Guess five minutes in the restroom is normal for women, Zhong Ziyan mused.
The designer, hailing from a top global luxury brand, was impeccably professional. She presented three initial design concepts tailored to Zhong Ziyan’s requests, her voice gentle and accommodating.
Zhong Ziyan marveled: Ah, money really does make the world treat you kindly.
Once the key cabinet blueprints were finalized, Zhong Ziyan noticed the designer’s flushed cheeks. "Is it warm in here? Your face is red."
The question only deepened the woman’s blush. "Y-Yes, a little... My apologies..."
Zhong Ziyan blinked. "You could’ve said so earlier. We could’ve adjusted the AC."
"Th-Thank you for your concern..." The designer stammered, her head bowed so low only her hair parting was visible.
Zhong Ziyan: "...What’s with this kid?"
Manager Wang smoothly intervened. "Shall I notify your driver, Miss Zhong?"
"Oh, today’s purchases won’t fit in the car," she realized.
"Rest assured, we offer home delivery as standard," Manager Wang assured her. "As for custom items, once completed, they’ll be delivered for your final approval."
Zhong Ziyan was delighted: This is what I call service!
Rising to leave, she bid farewell to the still-flustered designer. Outside, she whispered to Manager Wang, "Someone that shy might struggle in client-facing design work."
Manager Wang chuckled. "Miss Zhong, forgive my bluntness, but it’s your beauty. Even I—a forty-something industry veteran who’s seen it all—get nervous under your gaze."
Zhong Ziyan: "?" Sure, her elven bloodline enhanced her looks, but was it that striking?
"You haven’t noticed everyone stealing glances at you?" Manager Wang added, amused.
Zhong Ziyan: "...Weren’t they judging me for looking poor?"
"Miss Fu, who nearly clashed with you earlier, had been staring at you long before she spoke," Manager Wang pointed out cheerfully.
Zhong Ziyan: "...So the kid’s a tsundere?"
"Though I suppose you’re used to such attention, having grown up with it," Manager Wang remarked.
At the word "used to," Zhong Ziyan had an epiphany: This must be what they call a dimensional gap.
In the Infinite Space, everyone’s bloodlines and genes were enhanced.
Those who chose angelic descent radiated holy light;
Vampires oozed charm with every smirk;
Cultivators moved with ethereal grace;
And elves like her came pre-loaded with a soft-glow beauty filter.
...Aside from the odd orc, dwarf, or goblin enthusiasts, nearly everyone was stunning. After years of mutual exposure, they’d all grown numb to it.
"Looks don’t fill your stomach," Zhong Ziyan mused sagely. "Strength is what matters."
Take Wei Hanyun—his handsomeness was irrelevant.
What truly mattered was his wealth.
Manager Wang glanced at Zhong Ziyan with slight surprise before nodding in agreement. "You're absolutely right."
"Shall we go to the checkout?" Zhong Ziyan asked.
"There’s no need for you to move," Manager Wang waved his hand with a polite smile. "Your butler mentioned it over the phone earlier—all the items you’ve purchased today have already been charged in advance to Mr. Wei Hanyun’s card."
Zhong Ziyan calmly put away her phone.
It made no difference. Whether swiped horizontally, vertically, standing, or lying down—it was all Wei Hanyun’s money.
When they stepped outside Yansha, Zhong Ziyan spotted the car she had arrived in that morning parked by the curb, followed by two large, boxy vehicles with sharp angles, their cargo compartments emblazoned with the Yansha logo.
Zhong Ziyan didn’t recognize many car brands, but she knew Mercedes-Benz.
Zhong Ziyan: "..." Even the delivery trucks for the wealthy were luxury sedans.
Manager Wang escorted her all the way to the roadside, offering a perfectly practiced eight-tooth smile as he bowed. "We hope you were satisfied with today’s service. You’re always welcome to return."
Dazed, Zhong Ziyan slid into the back seat, then pulled out an unfamiliar bottle of liquor from the mini-bar, swirling the crystal glass before taking a sip.
Maybe I should buy the same model someday—at least I can drive it away after a year, she mused dreamily.
Meanwhile, what should have been a joyful shopping day for Fu Mingyao ended with her leaving in tears.
By the time she got home, she stormed straight to her room and called her best friend to vent. "I saw that Zhong Ziyan you told me about! She’s latched onto some sugar daddy and was spending his money at Yansha today—she even mocked me!"
The voice on the other end sounded skeptical. "You actually saw her? Since when does she have money to shop at Yansha?"
"How should I know?!" Fu Mingyao shrieked in frustration. "She dropped millions without blinking! Didn’t you say her family went bankrupt and she’s barely scraping by with some rundown apartment?"
"Don’t panic," her friend scoffed. "Even if she did find some rich patron, who in their right mind would just hand over a card to blow through millions? She’s probably faking it and crying at Yansha right now, begging to return everything."
Fu Mingyao pictured the scene and felt slightly better. "But I still lost face… I wasn’t even trying to pick a fight. I only spoke up because she was about to buy that instrument you wanted."
"The Stradivarius?" Her friend sounded surprised but quickly dismissed it. "That costs millions—she can’t afford it. Once my dad gets back, I’ll buy it myself. Don’t worry. I’m recording a new demo at the company in a few days—come listen?"
Fu Mingyao half-heartedly agreed, still stewing over the Yansha incident.
Her friend then offered a consolation. "Tell you what—on the day of my recording, I’ll have the company summon her too. We’ll make sure she humiliates herself in front of you. Consider it payback. Sound good?"
"How?" Fu Mingyao perked up.
"She used to be a composer under my family’s label but hasn’t produced anything in ages. According to her contract, if she doesn’t submit a piece in the next two weeks, she’ll be terminated," her friend explained smugly. "I’ll have the company call her with an ultimatum. She’ll come crawling to beg, and you can watch the show with me."
"...But what if she actually turns in something?"
"Her?" Her friend let out a light, condescending laugh. "If she could compose, why would she have gone silent for so long? And even if she somehow scrapes something together, I’ll be recording that day—do you really think her work could compare to mine?"
Fu Mingyao thought it over and relaxed. "You’re right—she’d never stand a chance. I’ll definitely be there to watch her melt down! Thanks, Lingling~"
...
Bai Ling set down her phone, twirling a pencil between her fingers. The memory of Zhong Ziyan’s aloof expression flickered in her mind, and she smirked before dialing another number. "Uncle? It’s me. There’s something I’d like your help with..."
