Chapter 25

After Jiang Shuwan and the others arrived at the hotel, they were personally greeted at the entrance by Manager Zhou, who had been waiting, and led to a delicately elegant private dining room.

“Miss Jiang, the dishes have been prepared according to President Han’s standard for entertaining guests. Please take a look at the menu. If anything is not to your liking, I’ll have it adjusted immediately.”

Due to her overly simple social circle, Jiang Shuwan had very little experience inviting people out for meals. The last time she treated someone to dinner was when her experiment succeeded and she took her senior brothers and sisters out for hotpot.

In this regard, Manager Zhou clearly had far more experience than she did.

Especially since the standards were set by Han Jinzhou himself, it was all the more impossible for there to be any mistakes.

Jiang Shuwan didn’t even glance at the menu. She simply said, “You arrange it,” and Manager Zhou nodded with a smile. After politely exchanging a few words with the guests, he left the room with a pleasant smile.

Xiao Zhang asked in confusion, “Has the hotel lobby manager changed? I haven’t seen this one before. But the service quality has definitely improved—so thoughtful and meticulous.”

He assumed it was a personnel change. High-end hotels always strive to improve service quality, and as an industry leader, Wanzhou Hotel had always been highly competitive in this regard.

Xiao Zhang asked Jiang Shuwan curiously, “By the way, Miss Jiang, the ‘President Han’ the manager mentioned—are they a friend of yours?”

Jiang Shuwan replied calmly, “A relative.”

The simplicity of Jiang Shuwan’s social network was partly due to her uncomplicated lifestyle and partly because she found dealing with relationships to be troublesome. She preferred to “cut to the chase.”

For example, explaining her family background—like why her surname is Jiang but her biological brother’s is Han—was something she found tedious.

So whenever she had to introduce Han Jinzhou to others, she would just say he was a relative.

The benefit of this explanation was obvious. After all, relatives with different surnames were entirely normal.

And no one would be particularly interested in some “insignificant” relative of hers, so naturally, no one would discover that this “relative” actually had an impressive identity.

It saved a great deal of trouble.

Sure enough, after Jiang Shuwan said he was a relative, Xiao Zhang’s curiosity faded.

Before coming to the hotel, they had already gone to the internal private hospital in the film city to have their injuries checked. Except for Jiang Shuwan, everyone had sustained minor injuries to varying degrees, though none were serious. The most severe was the cut on Xiao Zhang’s palm—which he had inflicted on himself with a slap.

The wound on Ji Hanzhang’s neck had already been cleaned and treated with medicine, and no longer looked as obvious as before.

Jiang Shuwan stole a few glances at it and secretly sighed in relief. She thought to herself that the injury on the Movie Emperor’s neck likely wouldn’t leave a scar. If the face of such a rare beauty were to be marred, she would feel terribly guilty.

While Ji Hanzhang was quietly texting Deng Youhui, his fingers paused slightly, and a faint look of helplessness flickered in his deep eyes.

When the dishes arrived, Xiao Zhang was stunned by the lavish spread. It finally occurred to him that Wanzhou Hotel was owned by the Han family—the wealthiest family in the country.

President Han…

Could it be that President Han?

Han Jinzhou, heir to the Han Group. He became the president of the group five years ago and had since pushed through sweeping reforms, raising the already-dominant Han Group to even greater heights. Due to his handsome appearance and assertive leadership style, he had become widely known to the public.

Especially in the entertainment industry, which had all sorts of ties to the business world—Han Jinzhou’s name was practically legendary.

Not to mention, the Han Group owned over fifty percent of the film city. The acquisition had been personally orchestrated by Han Jinzhou himself, despite heavy opposition.

However, Xiao Zhang quickly dismissed his own speculation. If the “relative” Jiang Shuwan referred to was really Han Jinzhou, there’s no way she’d be working as a background extra at a film studio.

With just a flick of his fingers, Han Jinzhou could have easily launched her into the ranks of top-tier celebrities.

It was probably just someone who happened to share the surname Han, or maybe a distant branch of the Han family.

Big families like that often had countless distant relatives—so many random connections. Even someone working in an ordinary position at Han Group might be called “President Han.” But the real “President Han” was the one sitting in the president’s office at the Han Group headquarters.

Xiao Zhang felt confident that he’d seen through the truth.

---

After all the commotion, everyone was a bit tired. After dinner, they each returned to their rooms to rest.

Considering how unreliable Jiang Zhan was—and how he was more likely to add fuel to the fire than keep secrets—Jiang Shuwan decided to “turn herself in” and try to “receive leniency by confessing.”

She first sent a WeChat message to Han Jinzhou, asking if he was free to talk.

Thousands of kilometers away, in the capital city, inside a tall office building, Han Jinzhou was in the middle of a late-night meeting with senior executives from a subsidiary company. After glancing at his phone, he abruptly interrupted one executive’s report.

“Pause for a moment. Take a fifteen-minute break.”

The executive was on edge. After Han Jinzhou stepped out with his phone, he cautiously asked Han Jinzhou’s assistant, “Assistant Lin, was there a problem with our report?”

Assistant Lin, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, had a sharp gleam in his eyes behind the lenses, though his expression remained gentle and composed. He smiled politely.

“President Li, don’t worry. The president just has an important phone call to take. Once he returns, continue with your prepared report—everything’s fine.”

The executive let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Though Han Jinzhou was young, ever since he took over the group, his methods had been ruthless and sophisticated. Those old-timers who tried to take advantage of their seniority to strip away his power had all ended up badly.

After several cautionary examples, the company’s internal atmosphere had become much more disciplined. No one dared underestimate the young successor anymore. On the contrary, most were visibly nervous in his presence, afraid they might become the next scapegoat.

That said, Han Jinzhou was indeed exceptionally capable—more perceptive, more decisive, and even more of a workaholic than his father, Han Bowen, the previous head of the Han Group.

An “important phone call” that could make a workaholic like him pause a meeting—it piqued everyone’s curiosity. But they knew better than to pry.

—

In the break room next door.

Han Jinzhou called Jiang Shuwan. After hearing her “confession,” the vein on his temple twitched. Like Jiang Zhan, his first reaction was that there was no need for this “social practice” to continue any further.

But Han Jinzhou knew his sister too well. Despite her usual easygoing and agreeable appearance, when she truly set her mind on something, not even a tank could stop her—let alone a cow.

Even someone like Han Jinzhou, who could easily control a massive entity like the Han Group, always found himself at a loss when dealing with his only sister.

After all, if she got upset, she might lock herself up in a lab for months and ignore him entirely.

In the end, Han Jinzhou sighed helplessly and gently reminded Jiang Shuwan not to go out casually while she was in the film and television city, and especially not to interact with strangers. He also silently decided to instruct the film city management to tighten security.

On the other end of the phone, Jiang Shuwan secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

She knew just how busy Han Jinzhou was, and she didn’t want her own affairs to create unnecessary trouble for him.

After hanging up the phone, Jiang Shuwan thought for a moment and sent a WeChat message to Assistant Lin.

Lab 9’s Little Jiang: Sorry to bother you, Assistant Lin. May I ask if you know what brand this car is? [Image attached]

In the meeting room, Assistant Lin had just sat down when he saw the message. He quietly walked over to Han Jinzhou and reported in a low voice, “President Han, it’s a message from Miss Jiang.”

Han Jinzhou glanced at it and nodded.

So Assistant Lin returned to his seat and, under the shocked gazes of the senior executives, openly began typing a reply on his phone.

Openly slacking off during an important meeting.

And it was even openly permitted by the usually strict Han Jinzhou himself.

The executives exchanged incredulous glances, especially those seated closest to Han Jinzhou, whose minds began to race with speculation.

Han Jinzhou was famously a workaholic—let alone a girlfriend, he hadn’t even had a rumored romance. Among the second-generation elites who loved to flirt with actresses or keep mistresses, he was practically a paragon of discipline.

And now, suddenly there was a “Miss Jiang.”

Han Jinzhou lightly tapped the desk with his fountain pen. “Continue the report.”

The executives immediately sobered up and refocused on the meeting.

Only Assistant Lin, while listening to the report, multitasked by monitoring his phone for WeChat messages.

The photo Jiang Shuwan had sent was of a severely damaged van, with no visible branding. But this kind of minor detail was no problem for the famously resourceful special assistant. Through his information channels, he quickly identified the vehicle and thoughtfully asked Jiang Shuwan if she needed help purchasing a new one.

Meanwhile, after receiving the information from Assistant Lin, Jiang Shuwan looked up the car online and found that not only was it astonishingly expensive, but it also had a long waiting list—at least six months after placing a pre-order.

So she entrusted the matter to the considerate Assistant Lin.

With that concern off her mind, she put down her phone and went to wash up. Afterward, she leaned against the headboard and read for a bit before falling asleep early.

She was so exhausted, she even forgot to check Weibo.

---

Meanwhile, online…

The hashtag #PasserbySpotsJi HanzhangAtPoliceStation had already climbed to the top of the trending list, followed by a glaring red “HOT” label.

Ji Hanzhang had enjoyed smooth sailing in recent years, starring in several high-profile movies and collecting awards left and right. Naturally, this attracted plenty of envy within the industry.

Yet he always kept a low profile—not even a single scandal, let alone any actual dirt. Rival camps had no openings to exploit.

This time, although it was just a few photos taken outside a police station, given how frequently celebrities had recently fallen from grace—some even ending up in jail—it wasn’t hard for the public to imagine Ji Hanzhang embroiled in legal trouble.

People say “a picture is worth a thousand words,” but here, a single photo was all they needed to start fabricating stories.

Countless paid trolls jumped in, and some influencer accounts—either hired by competitors or simply trying to ride the wave—seemed possessed by a screenwriter’s spirit, spinning sensational and half-believable tales.

Before long, bizarre hashtags like #JiHanzhangCriminalCase? and #MysteryAtPoliceStation started trending.

Someone even pointed out that the entire Regent film crew seemed cursed—since filming began, there had been frequent incidents. Whether actors or their assistants, everyone seemed to have some connection to law enforcement.

The hashtag #RegentCrewCurse was also trending.

However, this blood-sucking frenzy riding on Ji Hanzhang’s popularity didn’t last long. His studio swiftly issued a statement. It was brief and to the point: they clarified that the team had encountered an accident while out in the afternoon, and the matter was currently under police investigation. Any updates would be announced in due course.

They attached a photo of the damaged van—the side where the glass remained intact—but the body was visibly dented in several places.

Since it was described as an accident, and the photo clearly showed a wrecked vehicle, netizens naturally assumed it had been a car crash.

The studio’s timely response was like a shot of adrenaline for the fans. They immediately went into battle mode, reporting the most aggressive rumor-mongering accounts until they were muted or banned.

Being in a car accident was already unlucky enough. Even though the photo showed no one had been seriously hurt, it was obvious they must’ve been shaken. For marketing accounts and trolls to take advantage of the situation to spread falsehoods was utterly shameless.

The fans, full of righteous anger, launched a swift counterattack that sent the trolls retreating in defeat.

The battle had barely begun when it was already over.

One by one, those bizarre hashtags were removed from the trending list.

However, one particularly influential fan couldn’t help but comment under the studio’s official post: Excuse me, who was the girl with Ji-ge? Was it Teacher Ding Fengjiao?

This comment was quickly pushed to the top.

After all, even in the paparazzi photos released by marketing accounts, there was clearly a girl standing in front of Ji Hanzhang. But strangely enough, not a single photo captured her face.

Naturally, fans were dying of curiosity.

But the studio didn’t respond to any further comments.

The marketing accounts and trolls, who had just been forced into retreat, suddenly saw a new angle—fine, we can’t spread lies or we’ll get banned, but spreading rumors of romance is harmless, right? Given the studio’s evasive stance, there was obviously something going on.

And so, the hashtag #JiHanzhangMysteryWoman began to slowly climb the trending chart.