But the butler hadn’t finished speaking: "However, the income from the entertainment industry isn’t particularly high, and it isn’t managed by the master himself."
Zhong Ziyan: "..." My mistake.
The butler thought for a moment: "The person responsible for overseeing this sector in the province is likely a junior relative of the master—by seniority, his nephew."
The butler casually mentioned the nephew’s name to Zhong Ziyan, but she forgot it immediately.
Not an important person anyway, she thought.
As she prepared to leave, Zhong Ziyan noticed the ever-present chauffeur standing beside a different car—not the custom-made limousine she had taken to Yansha last time, but a sleek, elongated vehicle coated in matte paint from hood to tail.
"Aren’t we taking the last car?" Zhong Ziyan asked, somewhat disappointed.
"This is a new arrival from just two days ago," the butler adjusted his reading glasses, skipping any technical explanations and cutting straight to the point for Zhong Ziyan, "It’s more expensive than the last one."
Zhong Ziyan adored this blunt approach: "Perfect. This one it is."
Before getting in, she curiously ran her fingers over the matte surface, intrigued by its texture.
Ah, so cute. Reminds me of that little iron-shell robot my teammate used to have.
The butler watched her board the car with a fond gaze before returning inside to call Fang Nan, asking for the contact details of Wei Hanyun’s nephew managing the province’s entertainment business.
Fang Nan sounded puzzled: "Why do you need him?"
"Madam is currently on her way to Houtu Entertainment."
Fang Nan immediately understood. He had thoroughly investigated Zhong Ziyan’s background and knew about her nominal contract.
Since she was already toeing the line of termination—clearly not taking the job seriously—he had dismissed it from his mind.
The butler’s reminder brought it back: "Is she going to terminate it?" Zhong Ziyan hardly needed to work anymore; this year’s dividends alone could sustain her for lifetimes.
"She’s delivering sheet music."
Fang Nan: "...Seriously?"
After confirming with the butler, Fang Nan pondered for a moment and decided to notify the relevant personnel.
He had no idea if Zhong Ziyan had suddenly unlocked some divine musical talent, but if things escalated to termination, it wouldn’t reflect well. Better to smooth the path for her in advance.
Who was Fang Nan? He was Wei Hanyun’s most trusted special assistant—practically his right hand.
His notice might as well have been Wei Hanyun’s own.
When Yu Qianshan received Fang Nan’s call, he nearly leapt out of his seat mid-meeting, raising a hand to cut off his subordinate’s presentation.
"...President Yu?" The subordinate, a man in his fifties—older than Yu Qianshan himself—paused mid-sentence, his tone carefully deferential given the younger man’s status and family background.
Yu Qianshan, appearing to be in his early thirties, gestured for silence across the room. He straightened his posture, took a deep breath, and answered the call with utmost seriousness: "Special Assistant Fang? This is Yu Qianshan."
The conference room fell dead silent, the faint murmur of Fang Nan’s voice barely audible from the phone.
After listening briefly, Yu Qianshan’s gaze flickered toward his nearest subordinate before he responded, "Understood. I’ll head over immediately."
He didn’t hang up right away, listening for another ten seconds before affirming once more and ending the call.
Clutching his suddenly weightier phone, Yu Qianshan stood. "Continue the meeting without me. Submit the revised proposal and budget later."
Just like that, he walked out of the annual flagship project review—all because of one phone call.
The room full of executives exchanged awkward glances.
Finally, the interrupted Mr. Bai cleared his throat. "Since everyone has traveled far for this meeting, I won’t waste time. Let’s proceed."
Nods of agreement followed.
"Please go ahead, Mr. Bai."
"This project still hinges on Houtu Entertainment’s leadership, after all."
"Indeed. Please continue, Mr. Bai."
Mr. Bai resumed his presentation, though his mind lingered on that fleeting glance Yu Qianshan had sent his way during the call.
...What had that been about?
Meanwhile, while Yu Qianshan rushed from the conference to Houtu Entertainment’s headquarters in H City, Zhong Ziyan arrived at the company’s entrance at a leisurely pace.
It was her first time seeing an entertainment company up close, and her attention was instantly captured by the massive dual screens flanking the main entrance.
The spliced displays cycled through movie clips, concert highlights, variety show moments, and award ceremonies—all featuring stunning celebrities radiating regal charisma.
Unfamiliar with this world, Zhong Ziyan lingered outside for a few minutes to watch.
Yet even surrounded by glamorous professionals accustomed to high-profile faces, passersby couldn’t help but steal second glances at her, whispering about whether she was a newly signed star.
In the entertainment industry, everyone had sharp eyes—natural beauty, semi-permanent makeup, or full glam, they could tell at a glance.
The chauffeur stood dutifully behind Zhong Ziyan, discreetly intercepting scouts who tried to approach with business cards.
Just as Zhong Ziyan finished her brief viewing, a potbellied man hurried out from Houtu Entertainment, wiping sweat as he scolded, "You’re late!"
"We never agreed on a specific time. I can arrive whenever I want," Zhong Ziyan shot back, matching his tone. She wasn’t about to tolerate disrespect.
The agent choked momentarily before waving it off. "Whatever. Let’s go inside."
"No need. The sheet music is here." Zhong Ziyan handed him the folder. "I have to get back to cook."
The agent immediately refused, reaching to grab her arm. "No way. The music director needs to review it first."
Zhong Ziyan sidestepped his grasp, her suspicion growing. "Why?"
This felt eerily similar to that split-second before the Mainframe issued a mission—in short, she sensed a trap.
How odd. She hadn’t been in this world long enough to make enemies.
"The quality of your composition determines whether you stay with the company. I can’t make that call!" the agent argued, as if his reasoning were flawless. "How do I know if the company will even accept your song?"
The chauffeur leaned in with a stage-whispered suggestion: "Perhaps you should terminate the contract today?"
—Of course, the whisper was purely performative. The words reached the agent loud and clear.
The agent smirked dismissively. "So you really can’t write anymore, huh?"
Zhong Ziyan tilted her head and earnestly explained to the chauffeur: "This is still work." Even if it was under Wei Hanyun’s subordinate’s subordinate.
The driver nodded and obediently stepped back into position, his gaze sweeping past the agent’s face with a hint of warning.
"Then let’s go meet the music director," Zhong Ziyan said casually. "As long as he approves, that’s enough, right?"
"..." The agent felt like his condescending mockery had fallen on deaf ears. He snorted and turned to walk inside, his anger flaring even hotter at the sound of Zhong Ziyan’s unhurried footsteps behind him.
Zhong Ziyan was nothing but a fallen rich girl with nothing going for her except her looks. Yet she still carried herself with that unshakable arrogance—no wonder someone with such a face had ended up in such a sorry state!
Soon enough, she’d be put in her place by the Bai family’s young miss.
The thought eased the agent’s temper somewhat. He pressed the elevator button and, without thinking, glanced at Zhong Ziyan’s reflection in the elevator door.
Zhong Ziyan stood casually, holding a document folder, yet she stood out starkly from the crowd around her, exuding an aura of effortless authority.
The agent studied her for a moment, an inexplicable unease creeping into his chest. The Zhong Ziyan from before… hadn’t been this intimidating, had she?
With a soft ding, the elevator arrived.
The agent quickly averted his gaze and stepped inside, checking his phone before pressing the button for the sixteenth floor.
Meanwhile, Bai Ling descended from the top-floor CEO’s office, smoothing her hair as she made her way to the sixteenth-floor recording studio.
She was followed by an entourage—an entire team, including someone who carried her violin case for her.
"Miss Bai, another new composition? Your creative output is truly astounding," someone fawned beside her. "I heard you’ve even received an invitation from the Danish Royal Symphony Orchestra’s concertmaster to join their tour?"
"It was just a casual mention, nothing official," Bai Ling replied with a reserved smile.
"You’re incredible, Bai Ling! Only twenty-three and already an internationally renowned violinist!" Another sycophant chimed in. "Are you preparing to release your own album this time?"
"Yes, I’d like to try. I’m not sure how a classical instrumental album will be received domestically," Bai Ling said.
"Of course it’ll be a hit! Miss Bai, your talent and beauty are unmatched. Even the EP you arranged for that newcomer topped the charts for months!"
Bai Ling seemed accustomed to such lavish praise. She smiled faintly, showing no trace of arrogance. "I heard Zhong Ziyan is here today. A friend of mine is curious about her—let’s go take a look."
Fu Mingyao, who had been walking beside Bai Ling looking rather listless, suddenly perked up. "She’s already here? Hmph, let’s see what kind of music she can produce after stubbornly splurging on that famous violin."
Unaware of the history, Fu Mingyao didn’t notice the meaningful glances exchanged among those who knew about Bai Ling and Zhong Ziyan’s past.
When Zhong Ziyan first joined the company, she had shown promise—talented and beautiful, even overshadowing Bai Ling for a time.
But soon, Zhong Ziyan’s family fell from grace, and her inability to navigate social dynamics led to her fading into obscurity. Meanwhile, Bai Ling, backed by her family’s influence, soared ahead, leaving Zhong Ziyan far behind.
But despite the gap, everyone knew Bai Ling, proud and ambitious, still held a grudge over those early days. She never missed a chance to belittle Zhong Ziyan.
This time would be no exception.
With that in mind, the group quickly adjusted their tone to match Bai Ling’s mood.
"Zhong Ziyan hasn’t been to the company in a year, has she? Is she here to terminate her contract because she can’t deliver?"
"Talent dries up… what can you do?"
"Don’t say that," Bai Ling interjected with a smile. "Maybe she’s brought something amazing today, ready to surprise us all?"
Her words were light, but her eyes gleamed with disdain, as if she already knew exactly how this would play out.
※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※
Bai Ling: This is my family’s company.
Yu Qianshan: No, it’s not.
