"Chao Jie, the artist this time has been very cooperative with our work, and the studio didn’t raise any objections about the interview draft." The staff enlarged the cover and interior layout designs on the projector. "If you think everything looks good, we’ll send it to the printing factory tonight."
"Swap the second and fourth images in the interior layout. The second one’s pose and expression are too similar to the cover." After reviewing all the designs, Chao Yin signed the document. "Ignore the comments on social media. Kunlun Studios’ PR department will handle it themselves."
Whether the collaboration succeeded or not, Time Magazine couldn’t openly badmouth the artist—otherwise, how could other artists feel safe working with them in the future?
Time Magazine was a top-tier fashion publication in the country. Though Kunlun Studios wasn’t particularly prominent, it was backed by the massive Kunlun Group. There would undoubtedly be future collaborations between the two, and no one wanted to sour relations over an artist caught in a personal scandal.
"Understood, Chao Jie."
"Chao Jie, Lin Hui’s agent has already released a public statement on social media, citing personal health reasons for canceling this collaboration. But the artist’s fans don’t seem to accept this explanation."
"It’s fine. They’ll move on in a couple of days." Chao Yin replied calmly. "List Lin Hui as a high-risk collaborator. For the next two years, exclude him from Time’s fashion event invitations. However, for this month’s event, make sure to give Kunlun Studios an extra invite slot."
"Got it, Chao Jie."
Soon after, Lin Hui’s agent called to apologize. Chao Yin politely brushed off the call before turning to her assistant. "The weather’s terrible today. Let everyone leave early."
She shut her laptop and walked out of the meeting room, only to find several employees gathered in the reception area, laughing cheerfully.
"What’s everyone doing here? The rain’s getting heavier—pack up and go home." Chao Yin checked the time. It was already past seven in the evening.
"Mom." Chao Musheng peeked out from the crowd. "Are you done with work?"
"Musheng?" Only then did Chao Yin notice her son surrounded by her colleagues, with snacks, fruits, and drinks laid out in front of him. She had no idea how long he’d been waiting.
"The brothers and sisters said you were busy, so I waited out here." Chao Musheng picked up a shawl from the sofa and draped it over Chao Yin’s shoulders. "It’s windy outside. Wear this until we get to the car."
The colleagues who had followed Chao Yin out of the meeting room couldn’t help but stare at Chao Musheng.
In their line of work, they were used to seeing beautiful faces, but this fresh, crisp, and radiant young man still caught their attention.
"No wonder Chao Jie never brings her kid to the office. He’s just too…"
Delicious.
In the entertainment industry, even the most attractive celebrity couples rarely produced children who surpassed their parents’ looks.
But Chao Jie’s son had hit the genetic jackpot, inheriting only the best traits—as if the goddess Nuwa had handpicked his parents’ genes for him.
"Goodbye, brothers and sisters. Thanks for taking care of me."
Hearing Chao Musheng’s polite farewell, the employees smiled, though their expressions grew slightly complicated.
With Chao Jie’s status, who would dare treat her child poorly?
Yet there wasn’t a trace of arrogance in him. In the flashy, cutthroat world of fame, humility like his was a rare sight.
The underground parking lot was quiet. As Chao Musheng opened the car door for Chao Yin, he suddenly felt as if eyes were boring into his back. He glanced around twice but saw nothing.
"Out of all the shawls in the closet, you had to pick the ugliest one." Chao Yin got into the car and removed the shawl, noticing a small yellow paper scrap stuck to it.
She held it up, examining it. What was this?
"You and Dad bought this on your trip. I thought you’d like it." In the rearview mirror, Chao Musheng saw Chao Yin holding the yellow fragment. "What is that?"
"No idea." Chao Yin tossed it into the car’s trash bin. "Probably just something I picked up by accident."
"This is what your dad and I bought when we rode camels to shield against sandstorms." She rubbed her temples and fastened her seatbelt. "Drive slowly."
Chao Musheng grinned. "Mom, trust my driving skills."
"The puppet talisman failed." Inside a pitch-black car, a player stared at the vehicle driving ahead, his eyes burning with frustration.
He had planned to use the talisman to make Chao Yin crash her car—completing the system’s task without exposing himself. But he never expected the talisman to fail, nor did he anticipate Chao Yin having company.
The player beside him smirked. "Didn’t expect her to have such a young toy boy."
"Shut up." The driver punched him. "Can’t you tell that ‘toy boy’ looks familiar?"
"Bro, my eyesight’s terrible."
"That kid was among the interns on our first day in this instance." The driver started the car, tailing Chao Yin’s vehicle through the heavy rain. "Just look at his face—they’re obviously related. Use your brain. Not every man and woman together is about that."
"Bro, what do we do now?" The passenger frowned. "With this downpour, they’ll head straight home. How do we make our move?"
"Quiet. I’m thinking." The driver summoned a few Devourer Wasps from his inventory and released them.
His daily mission was to orchestrate a car accident for Time Magazine’s editor-in-chief. Whether she lived or died wasn’t his concern.
After all, she was just an NPC in this instance.
Seeing his mother asleep in the backseat, Chao Musheng turned off the music and adjusted the car’s temperature, waiting for the traffic light to count down.
A long line of cars stretched across the road, a dense, spectacular sight.
In this torrential rain, only those struggling to make a living would brave the storm.
Plop.
A Devourer Wasp, charging toward Chao Musheng’s car, was struck midair by a raindrop and landed on the hood.
The other two met worse fates—crushed beneath the tires as the car suddenly moved forward, dissolving into the muddy water.
"Just wait. That car’s about to have an accident." The driver grinned triumphantly. Devourer Wasps could chew through steel—what were mere tires to them?
In this heavy rain, a blown tire would send the car spiraling out of control.
But the next moment, the car at the intersection smoothly accelerated forward, showing no signs of malfunction.
Devourer Wasps, what the hell are you doing?
Is chewing a tire really that hard?!
Furious, the player drove closer, slowing slightly where the other car had stopped.
In the muddy puddle, a dazed Devourer Wasp struggled to lift its head. Spotting the tire above, it immediately obeyed its master’s command, sinking its sharp mandibles into the rubber and devouring the inner components.
The car had been driving for a while when the player in the passenger seat felt the vehicle shaking violently beneath him. "Bro, don’t you think there’s something wrong with our car?"
No sooner had he spoken than the car lost control, spinning wildly on the road before miraculously avoiding all other vehicles and pedestrians—only to crash head-on into a roadside stone pillar.
Awakened by the deafening noise, Chao Yin opened her eyes and sat up, turning to look behind her. "Was that a car accident?"
The rain was too heavy, turning the outside world into a blur of white. She could barely make out the wreckage of a car lying overturned by the roadside, with a traffic officer rushing toward the scene.
Chao Musheng glanced in the rearview mirror, catching only a lone, battered tire lying quietly by the road, having somehow cleared all the chaos.
He silently thanked his luck. Driving in such terrible weather was dangerous—good thing he’d come to pick them up.
Pulling into the underground garage of the residential complex, Chao Musheng noticed a dead bee still stuck to the hood. He pulled out a tissue, wrapped the bee’s body, and tossed it into the trash.
"‘Toil for whom, sweetness for whom?’ Even in this heavy rain, it was out gathering nectar. What a tragic way to go."
[Ding! Two players have failed their mission and died. Remaining players: 11.]
A few minutes later, messages popped up in the group chat.
[Who died? Was it the one looking for the editor-in-chief of Time Light?]
[Yeah, it was him. He’s gone from the group—totally wiped.]
[Remember the two players who failed last Friday night? Their mission was also about messing with the locals.]
[Anyone who gets this kind of mission is doomed. I’d rather lose points than risk my life for high-difficulty daily tasks.]
[You think you have a choice? Fail three daily missions, and the system erases you. The later it gets, the harder the tasks become. How many chances do you think you’ll have to waste?]
Xiaojuan tapped on the players’ profiles in the group chat. Each had the same gray default avatar, but their ID numbers differed—hers was 1, Ze was 25, and the ones who’d just disappeared were 3 and 17.
"The NPCs in this instance are terrifying. Whoever dares to target them ends up dead," Ze said, walking out of his room with his phone in hand. "I hope neither of us gets stuck with such a cursed daily mission."
[2: Are you okay?]
Another message appeared on Xiaojuan’s screen—from the player who’d provided the address of Time Light’s office.
[1: Why wouldn’t I be?]
[2: I thought you asked for the address because you had a mission too. Glad you’re fine.]
[1: Haha.]
Glad?
Xiaojuan sneered. More like bitterly disappointed.
Player 2 had been so eager to help Player 3 dig up info on their target—was it really out of kindness?
"Ze, why would the system send players to harass a magazine editor?" Xiaojuan mused. "What’s the connection to the instance’s main task?"
"Didn’t Player 2 mention that the magazine recently had a dispute with an artist from Kunlun Entertainment’s talent division?" Ze scratched his head. "If the editor suddenly dies, the public’s first suspect would be that Kunlun artist."
"Same with making players dig through trash for water—it’s all to make people think Kunlun mistreats interns. This entire instance is a full-scale siege against Kunlun."
"No wonder the system made me pluck leaves from the money tree on my first day—it was sabotaging Kunlun’s feng shui." Ze chuckled. "Building such an elaborate corporate instance just to tear it down… the System sure knows how to entertain itself."
Xiaojuan’s brow twitched. The System’s creation?
If the System truly had this much power, why were past instances so much less dynamic than this world?
What was the point of summoning players from countless worlds, batch after batch, just to toss them into these scenarios? For fun?
"I suspect—"
A shrill alarm blared in her mind. Xiaojuan clutched her head, collapsing to her knees in agony.
"Ha… hahaha!" Her eyes burned red. The more violently the system reacted, the more afraid it was.
This cold, untouchable subsystem—created by the System itself—was terrified.
What was it afraid of?
Her uncovering the truth? Or the power hidden within this instance?
Gritting her teeth, Xiaojuan forced herself up and staggered to the window. The grimy glass was streaked with rain, distorting the world outside.
Her phone lit up with a message from Chao Musheng.
[Chao Chao Mu Mu: Xiaojuan, Mom and I made it home safe.]
She picked up the phone. If this was all just an illusion crafted by the System, then what were the life and luck stats they’d gained from the Chao family?
Was the System playing favorites?
"I’ve been eating the boss’s special treats too often lately—getting sick of it." Chao Musheng tapped his keyboard, whispering to Old Mo. "I’m hitting the cafeteria at noon. You coming?"
Human nature was fickle. After indulging in luxury, even the simplest meals could feel nostalgic.
"Sure." Old Mo glanced at the lines of code on Chao Musheng’s screen, his eyes glazing over. "Kid, you really not staying after your internship?"
"Old Mo, I’ve still got school," Chao Musheng said around the lollipop in his mouth. No wonder the boss had candy in the game dev office—it was for the software team.
Old Mo blinked, having forgotten his junior was still a student. The kid’s skills were so polished, it was easy to overlook.
Remembering how the team lead had initially resisted bringing Chao Musheng onboard because of his student status, Old Mo shook his head. No offense, but the lead’s judgment was seriously flawed.
At lunch, the cafeteria lady beamed when she saw Chao Musheng. "Haven’t seen you in days! Thought you quit."
"Got transferred to another department. Harder to make it down for meals now." He accepted the heaping tray and scanned the room for seats.
"I’ve been here for years, and she still doesn’t remember my face," Old Mo sighed. "But miss a few days, and she notices? Pretty people really do stand out everywhere."
"Chao! Over here!" A game dev teammate waved from across the room.
Chao Musheng led Old Mo to their table, taking in the group’s dark circles. "How long have you guys been pulling overtime?"
"Ever since you got promoted to the 52nd floor," one senior groaned, shooting Old Mo a resentful look. "Chao, life’s been rough without you. Rough, Chao."
"Enough with the internet memes." Old Mo remained unfazed under their collective glare. "Relax, R&D will take good care of our Musheng."
"Word is your department didn’t even want him at first," another teammate said pointedly. "Changed your minds after seeing what he could do in games, huh?"
Old Mo: "Our R&D department has generous meal allowances."
Senior Brother: "You fickle hypocrite."
Old Mo: "Our R&D department has afternoon tea breaks, and we even get to hog the executive elevator."
Senior Brother: "Hah, you’re no better than us—bald patches galore."
The entire game development team: "..."
A thousand points of damage dealt, but a thousand points taken in return?
Chao Musheng kept his head down, shoveling rice into his mouth like his life depended on it.
The ribs were delicious, the corn was delicious—as long as he didn’t have to speak, everything tasted amazing.
"Done eating? Let’s head back, Xiao Chao." Under the resentful gazes of the game team, Old Mo set down his chopsticks, eager to leave even a second sooner.
"Senior Brother, I’m heading upstairs first." Chao Musheng whispered by his senior’s ear, "I’ll come find you guys at the game team tomorrow at lunch."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Senior Brother grabbed Chao Musheng’s wrist tightly. "Good brother, you better come!"
"Let go." Old Mo, horrified, snatched Chao Musheng back. "Musheng is one of ours."
Senior Brother glared at Old Mo. Old Mo glared back.
The sheer audacity!
"Forget it, forget it." After Old Mo left with Chao Musheng, a colleague from the game team comforted Senior Brother. "He’s from the 52nd floor. For Xiao Chao’s sake, let’s just give in this time."
They couldn’t afford to offend the elites from the 52nd floor.
"Mr. Chao."
As soon as Chao Musheng stepped out of the cafeteria, a man in a suit approached him, followed by a younger man wearing black-framed glasses.
The younger man had an ordinary appearance. When his eyes met Chao Musheng’s, he quickly looked down, as if embarrassed.
"Mr. Chao, hello. I’m a talent agent from the film and television department. My surname is Wang—just call me Old Wang." The man handed Chao Musheng a business card with both hands.
Film and television department?
Chao Musheng took the card. "Brother Wang, what can I do for you?"
"There’s a work-related matter I’d like to discuss with you. Would you have time now?" Agent Wang smiled ingratiatingly. "There’s a nice café downstairs—shall we talk there?"
"Sorry, Brother Wang." Chao Musheng declined politely. "I need to get back to overtime work. It might not be convenient."
Seeing Chao Musheng’s refusal, Agent Wang cursed inwardly but kept smiling. "I have connections with Secretary Liu from the executive office. I can ask him to put in a word with your department manager. Just a few minutes—your manager won’t mind."
"So you’re friends with Brother Liu?" Chao Musheng paused. "Of course I’d give Brother Liu face. But I don’t see how my work scope overlaps with the film and television department?"
Agent Wang sensed something off in Chao Musheng’s words—he was willing to oblige Secretary Liu, not the department manager?
He glanced back at his intern assistant. Had this kid lied to him?
The intern kept his head bowed, the picture of innocence.
Uncertain, Agent Wang pressed on humbly. "Mr. Chao, this matter relates to your mother’s work. Please, for Secretary Liu’s sake, spare me a few minutes."
"What ‘my sake’?" The executive elevator doors slid open, and Secretary Liu strode out. He gave Agent Wang a brief look before focusing on Chao Musheng. "Xiao Chao, the chef made Australian lobster for lunch today—why didn’t you go?"
"Brother Liu, if I keep eating lavish meals every day, my face will get even rounder." Chao Musheng felt a twinge of regret—he should’ve checked the menu first.
"I secretly saved one for you in my office." Secretary Liu held the elevator door and patted Chao Musheng’s shoulder. "Come on, let’s eat on the 51st floor."
Old Mo watched silently.
Secretary Liu, he was still here. Was it really appropriate to give Xiao Chao special treatment right in front of him?
"Old Mo, you’re here too?" Secretary Liu waved dismissively. "Hurry back to the 52nd floor. They’re probably still eating."
Old Mo: "..."
Newcomers get all the love, while the old are forgotten.
How fickle affection can be.
Agent Wang watched as Secretary Liu personally held the elevator for Chao Musheng and mentioned the 52nd floor, his heart sinking.
Secretary Liu gave him a cool glance. "Each department handles its own affairs. Don’t disturb employees during their breaks."
Agent Wang nodded repeatedly. "Yes, yes, Secretary Liu. You’re absolutely right."
As Secretary Liu stepped back into the elevator, Agent Wang suspected he’d come down specifically for Chao Musheng.
Which made his earlier name-dropping of Secretary Liu seem like a pathetic joke.
"Who told you Chao Musheng was an intern in the game team?" Agent Wang turned his anger on the intern. "What rotten luck!"
"Sorry, Brother Wang. When I first joined, Brother Chao was assigned to the game team. But given his connections with upper management, he might’ve transferred recently."
"You think the 52nd floor is someplace you can waltz into just with connections?" Agent Wang muttered a curse. "If I’d known he was from the 52nd floor, I’d never have approached him to plead Lin Hui’s case."
The intern’s eyes flickered. "Brother Wang… what exactly is the 52nd floor?"
"What is it?" Agent Wang dragged him to a secluded spot and kicked him twice to vent. "A place our film department can’t even set foot in. Now wipe the dust off my shoes."
The intern dropped to his knees, using his sleeve to clean Agent Wang’s shoes.
Chao Musheng of the 52nd floor…
So he was the key to clearing this level.
