Chapter 8 Another Lesson in Old Sayings

Jiang Shuwan didn’t want to believe what the gossip system was telling her—but Xia Xiangyang’s case had already proven that the system did, in fact, have the ability to predict the future. It wasn’t just making things up.

Which meant: the sweet talk was just to trick her into being a free assistant, and once she had outlived her usefulness, she’d be discarded. And as for taking on trashy films, gambling, and ending up deep in debt—there was a 99% chance all of it would come true.

The hotter her romantic feelings had burned, the colder and crueler the truth now felt.

Whatever Liang Hao was saying afterward, Jiang Shuwan didn’t catch a word of it.

It didn’t matter anyway—it was all fake.

The long-standing illusion of romance that had lasted for months shattered in an instant. She needed time to cool off and be alone.

Jiang Shuwan handed Liang Hao his bag back. She had also meant to give him the coffee but thought better of it—he had seemed a bit grossed out earlier by the reheated drink, so she pulled her hand back.

She came up with a casual excuse about having an urgent matter to attend to and politely excused herself from Liang Hao.

Liang Hao, who had been in the middle of delivering his most affectionate, deep-acting performance: “……”

He had genuinely put his all into that scene. Yet the only audience member responded so indifferently.

Shouldn’t she have been moved to tears? Promising to be his most loyal fan and doing everything in her power to help him achieve fame?

Even if his acting was bad, didn’t they say fans wore rose-tinted glasses a hundred meters thick?

Watching Jiang Shuwan walk away, Liang Hao suddenly had an ominous feeling—as if letting her go like this was something he would definitely come to regret.

At the same time, he felt that this thought was ridiculous.

In all the months he’d known her, Jiang Shuwan had always been tirelessly accommodating, accepting whatever he dished out without complaint. Asking her to go five kilometers away to buy coffee only for him not to drink it, walking around with her hands full while he kept his in his pockets—that was nothing. Even if it had been worse, she had never shown the slightest resistance.

Liang Hao had long been convinced that this woman loved him so much she’d put up with anything. That’s why he had been so bold and shameless.

He was probably just overthinking it.

At most, he’d be a little nicer to her from now on. Let her do less work. Say a few more sweet things to keep her emotionally hooked. Fill her emotional tank. There’s no way she wouldn’t continue being obedient and fall at the feet of his tailored pants.

Liang Hao stood in place, mentally reassuring himself. The hand holding the bag drooped slightly.

He suddenly realized—this bag was actually pretty heavy. Even for a grown man like himself, it wasn’t easy to carry.

Yet Jiang Shuwan had been holding it so effortlessly earlier.

---

When Jiang Shuwan got to the entrance, she ran into Xia Xiangyang again.

Xia Xiangyang seemed to be waiting for someone, leaning lazily against the inside wall near the door, clearly bored, and even yawning.

When he saw Jiang Shuwan, he immediately stood upright and greeted her with a smile: “Miss Jiang.”

Jiang Shuwan nodded at him. She recalled that he’d also been yawning earlier that morning. Now that she looked more closely, his eyes were ringed with dark circles—the telltale sign of someone who had stayed up all night.

She walked over and handed him the coffee she was holding. “I bought this earlier from Mery Coffee. It got cold, so I reheated it.”

After a brief pause, she asked, “If you don’t mind, would you like it?”

Coffee kept her awake, so unless she was pulling an all-nighter in the lab, she normally didn’t touch it.

She had originally planned to give the coffee to the hotel receptionist—earlier that morning, she’d overheard the night shift staff complaining about being tired and trying to get the manager to approve nighttime coffee allowances.

But clearly, Xia Xiangyang needed this coffee more.

She just wasn’t sure—was the refusal to drink reheated coffee some kind of universal celebrity trait, or was it just a Liang Hao thing?

Xia Xiangyang’s face lit up with joy. “I was just thinking of asking my assistant to get me some coffee. Are you really giving this to me?”

Jiang Shuwan repeated, “As long as you don’t mind that it’s been reheated.”

Xia Xiangyang waved his hand dismissively. “Ah, what’s there to mind? When something gets cold, you reheat it. Especially in this kind of weather—hot drinks are more comforting.”

He took the coffee and drank it right away. “Mm, tastes good.”

Jiang Shuwan: “……”

Well, guess that whole anti-reheating thing was just a Liang Hao problem.

She quickly brushed aside the unpleasant thought and turned her attention elsewhere. “Are you waiting for your assistant?”

Usually, it was assistants who waited for actors after filming. This was the first time Jiang Shuwan had seen an actor patiently waiting on an assistant.

【His assistant is the nephew of a company executive. Well, officially a nephew—actually a son. In short, your classic ‘rich princeling.’ Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so outrageously entitled.】

One short sentence from the system—and it was loaded with so much implication it left Jiang Shuwan momentarily speechless.

The whole “nephew-but-actually-son” thing… All she could say was that the entertainment industry was, well, hard to put into words.

Xia Xiangyang nodded. “I wanted to have lunch with you, but since you didn’t have time, I agreed to eat with him instead.”

He paused—maybe thinking that Jiang Shuwan counted as someone “in the know”—and explained, “That so-called ‘industry insider’ who exposed things online earlier was a friend of his. He said that guy went crazy trying to get famous and just started spouting nonsense online. He made him apologize to me.”

Jiang Shuwan thought, That guy wasn’t trying to apologize—he was trying to trap you and drag you down with him.

She looked at Xia Xiangyang sympathetically and said, “If he was really here to apologize, shouldn’t he have shown up early? Why are you the one waiting?”

In a situation like this, shouldn’t he be questioning whether the other party even meant to apologize?

Xia Xiangyang hesitated and said vaguely, “He’s never had much sense of time.”

In other words, this kind of behavior was normal for him—and Xia had already gotten used to it.

Jiang Shuwan frowned. “That may be true usually, but today he’s supposed to be apologizing, isn’t he?”

When she saw that Xia Xiangyang still didn’t seem to get her meaning, she decided to be blunt: “Mr. Xia, as the saying goes, ‘It’s wise to guard against others.’ If I were you, and someone I had a falling out with suddenly bowed their head and acted friendly, I’d approach it cautiously. If I had to go to that kind of meal, I’d at least bring some backup.”

Xia Xiangyang froze.

There it is.

Here we go again

Previously, she had used that same calm but sincere tone to advise him that good deeds should be recognized—and not long after, he had been slandered.

Now she was saying, “It’s wise to guard against others!”

Xia Xiangyang asked nervously, “Miss Jiang, did you hear something again?”

Jiang Shuwan remained calm: “Why would I have heard anything? I’m simply sharing the distilled wisdom passed down by our ancestors.”

Her expression was so composed that Xia Xiangyang couldn’t tell whether she was serious or not.

But the previous incident had already taught him one lesson: Listen to advice, and you’ll eat well.

Whether it was true or not, since Miss Jiang suggested he bring a few people along to what might be a Hongmen Banquet—uh, no, a suspected Hongmen Banquet—he’d better obediently call a few friends.

Calling too many people wouldn’t be appropriate; it might seem like he was intentionally making the other party lose face. But if it really was a Hongmen Banquet, bringing too few people could be risky too. Two or three others would be ideal.

Director Wang Yude would work—he’d already said he wasn’t busy this afternoon and could take time off. Besides, it was just a meal, two to three hours at most.

As for others, not really suitable. If the relationship isn’t that close, it’d be awkward. And honestly, in the Prince Regent production crew, he didn’t know that many people well.

Frowning, Xia Xiangyang fell deep into thought. Seeing that he had taken her words seriously, Jiang Shuwan simply said goodbye and briskly left.

She was also thinking to herself: Could that infamous drinking-and-drugging Hongmen Banquet actually be happening today? But shouldn’t that kind of thing be scheduled at night? Under the cover of darkness, flashbulbs popping, revealing the hidden side of a big star…

In broad daylight? Who would believe that? Can that really even succeed?

[System: You’re still too naïve.]

[Whether it’s believable or not, whether it works or not—just exposing it is enough to ruin Xia Xiangyang’s career.]

In this industry, no matter what goes on behind the scenes, appearances must remain pure and righteous.

After all, as public figures, they’re expected to promote positive, healthy social values.

---

Meanwhile…

Ji Hanzhang had changed out of his costume and back into his own clothes. Unhurriedly, he walked toward the exit, his assistant Xiao Zhang following behind, making a call to pre-order congee from a restaurant Ji Hanzhang frequented.

In his early years, when Ji Hanzhang was just starting out, he often skipped meals to rush between appearances. Over time, this took a toll on his health, and he developed chronic gastritis. When it flares up, nothing feels comfortable—except plain congee.

Just as he was nearing the exit, Ji Hanzhang suddenly heard a familiar voice:

“Could that drinking-and-drugging Hongmen Banquet be happening today… pitch-dark night, flashbulbs going off, capturing the hidden side of a celebrity… can that really succeed?”

The voice came in disjointed fragments.

But Ji Hanzhang quickly realized why—it must be because he was still too far from the person “speaking.”

As he drew closer to the film set’s entrance, the voice became clearer:

“Forget it, I’ve already given a warning.”

This line came through especially clearly.

But immediately after, it returned to fragments:

“Better go back and… look up… a guide to healing from heartbreak…”

And after that, the voice disappeared entirely.

When Ji Hanzhang reached the entrance, he saw Xia Xiangyang standing by the wall, frowning and mumbling to himself. No one else was nearby.

Clearly, it couldn’t have been Xia Xiangyang speaking.

Unless he had split personalities and was making up rumors about himself.

Ji Hanzhang lowered his gaze in brief contemplation. When he walked up to Xia Xiangyang, he cleared his throat lightly.

Xia Xiangyang looked up and froze for a second, then immediately put on a polite, professional smile: “Mr. Ji.”

Ji Hanzhang stopped and casually asked, “Why are you standing here alone?”

Xia Xiangyang hadn’t expected Ji Hanzhang to stop and chat, so he answered honestly, “Waiting for my assistant to pick me up for lunch.”

Ji Hanzhang raised an eyebrow slightly: “Oh? Is it some new trendy restaurant?”

Xia Xiangyang: “……”

He honestly didn’t know which restaurant—it was somewhere in the Siguxiang area, known for its private dining spots.

But since the conversation had reached this point, even someone slow on the uptake would know it was time to extend a polite invitation: “My assistant booked it. It’s probably one of the private kitchens over in Siguxiang. Mr. Ji, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Would you like to join us?”

Although Ji Hanzhang was known for his mild manners, he was actually quite hard to approach. In the industry, he was widely recognized as one of the most difficult people to invite to a meal—TOP1 on the “least likely to accept a dinner invite” list.

Xia Xiangyang had already braced himself for rejection.

To his surprise, Ji Hanzhang smiled slightly and asked, “Wouldn’t I be intruding?”