Chapter 13: One Person, One Fish—Both Are Here for Her…

Lu Hui’s grudge against this damn fish could go on for three days and nights without end.

Back in the cultivation world, she had wanted to toss this stinky fish into a pot and stew it.

This massive fish was her ex-fiancé’s beloved pet. When she found out that her childhood sweetheart had fallen for someone else and wanted to take her life to save that person, she didn’t hesitate—she packed her bags and ran for her life.

Kunpeng’s nose was sharper than a dog’s. No matter how she fled—heaven or earth—he always managed to find her with uncanny precision and drag her back to Yan Zhao, wagging his tail like a damn watchdog.

Taking a deep breath, Lu Hui tried to maintain a calm facade. She shut the hotel room door firmly to prevent passersby from being frightened by the sight of this massive fish.

Clenching her fists, she tightly shut her eyes. Her long, thick lashes trembled slightly. A few seconds later, she opened her eyes again.

Nope. Still absolutely ridiculous!

“Get down,” Lu Hui said coldly to Kunpeng, not caring whether he understood or not.

Kunpeng flicked his tail and refused to budge.

Lu Hui, now devoid of any magical powers, was at a loss for how to deal with him. She asked, “Where’s your dad?”

Kunpeng continued flicking his tail.

Alright. She got it. Maybe father and son had gotten separated, and since this fish was used to catching her, he had tracked her down again.

Lu Hui rummaged through the hotel room until she found a small wooden stick. Its shape bore some resemblance to the Frostblade Sword she used to wield.

She had always used that sword to battle wits and strength against Kunpeng. Sure enough, the moment his blue eyes spotted the stick in her hand, he flipped over and landed on the ground. In the process, his massive form shrank back to its original size—about the size of a pet cat.

They stared at each other.

The room fell into silence for a solid ten minutes. Lu Hui felt a headache coming on and called out to the system.

The system, annoyed at being summoned yet again, grumbled, “Dear, I’m a public servant with full benefits and weekends off. Please don’t call me for no reason.”

Lu Hui let out a laugh in exasperation. “Open your tiny eyes and tell me what the hell is in front of you.”

The system looked at the creature on the floor, froze, and went silent.

Then, without a shred of shame, it said, “Sorry, I have no idea what this thing is. Never seen it before.”

A dead silence filled the room for a few seconds before the system abruptly freaked out. “AHHHH! WHAT THE HELL—WHY IS THIS GIANT FISH HERE?!”

Lu Hui, in the middle of changing her dirty bedsheets, replied flatly, “I was wondering the same thing.”

The system hesitated before offering a weak explanation. “Maybe… possibly… probably… something went wrong with the cultivation world as well? The male lead’s resentment is a terrifying force, you know.”

Lu Hui had expected as much. She showed no emotion. “Then send this fish back.”

“Dear, I don’t have permission for that.” Before pretending to go offline, the system threw out a final sentence: “Logging off now. Wishing you a wonderful life!”

No solutions.

The male lead was obsessed and full of resentment.

So, don’t ask. Asking will only make things worse.

Lu Hui: I f*cking knew it!

She stared at the tightly shut doors and windows, wondering just how this fish had managed to sneak in.

With a sigh, despite her deep hatred for the damn thing, she had no choice but to put it in a fish tank.

“I’m not letting you go back to find your dad. Give up on that dream.”

Kunpeng flicked his tail, and the fish tank cracked.

Right. He didn’t need to live in water.

Lu Hui had the urge to drag him down with her in mutual destruction. Her eyelid twitched as she barely held back her frustration. She let him flop around on the floor, refusing to deal with him any further.

Her gut told her that both the man and the fish were here for her. But what did Yan Zhao want?

Back then, she and Yan Zhao had been the most well-matched pair in their sect—senior and junior disciples who had grown up together. Their parents had arranged their engagement the moment they were born. They were childhood sweethearts, a perfect pair.

Until they turned sixteen, everything between them had been fine. In just two more years, they were supposed to have their grand wedding ceremony and officially become husband and wife.

But her fiancé changed his heart as easily as flipping a page. After meeting the novel’s heroine, he fell head over heels within mere months—so much so that he couldn’t live without her.

Like most heroines, she was a delicate beauty, frail and burdened by a tragic fate.

Yan Zhao hadn’t hesitated at all when he decided to carve out Lu Hui’s heart to save the heroine. No second thoughts, no doubts—just an immediate execution.

Cornered at the edge of a cliff with no escape, Lu Hui’s last words had been, “Bro, you really are someone who can accomplish great things.”

Without hesitation, her fiancé had driven his sword straight through her chest. The dazzling white light of the blade blinded her for a moment before the cold steel split open her flesh, slicing deeper and deeper.

Even now, just thinking about it made her scalp tingle with pain. Were all these men insane? They had their success and their beautiful lovers—so why were they still so obsessed?

She couldn’t understand it. She really couldn’t.

Then again, with the way male leads’ brains worked, it would be more surprising if she could understand them.

Lying in the center of the bed, Lu Hui stared blankly at the ceiling. She had already decided—she would imprison this damn fish first. She couldn’t let him bring Yan Zhao here.

Before going to sleep, she glared at Kunpeng and warned, “Behave yourself, or I’ll braise you and eat you.”

Kunpeng scoffed, clearly too lazy to acknowledge her.

Huffing in annoyance, Lu Hui turned her back to him, shut off the lights, and went to sleep.

—

That day, Sheng Zhaoming made an appearance on set.

As someone accustomed to flattery, he didn’t take any of the crew members seriously. He barely reacted to their bootlicking, his expression remaining cold and indifferent.

His gaze swept the room, pausing briefly before retracting.

The female actors’ eyes followed his every move, itching for a chance to get close to the young master of the Sheng family.

The man was absurdly good-looking, with an outstanding aura, long legs, broad shoulders, and an impeccable family background. Who wouldn’t be tempted? Especially those looking for a shortcut in the industry.

Compared to cozying up to some fifty or sixty-year-old producer, trying to win over Sheng Zhaoming was a much better deal.

Their conditions were all similar, and they were secretly relieved that Lu Hui had left early. Otherwise, with her looks, she would have been a serious threat.

Sheng Zhaoming, however, didn’t seem interested in anyone. He got straight to the point. “Where’s Lu Hui?”

The director answered, “She already left.”

“She had scenes this afternoon.”

Sheng Zhaoming had checked the schedule beforehand. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered coming.

The director was surprised that Sheng Zhaoming even looked at the filming schedule. Was he interested in Lu Hui?

“She wrapped early—nailed every scene in one take—so she went back to the hotel to rest.”

“One take?” Sheng Zhaoming’s interest was piqued. “Are you saying she’s actually good at acting?”

The director nodded. “She’s decent. Among new actors, she’s one of the better ones.”

Sheng Zhaoming was skeptical. He had seen every episode of the trashy idol drama Lu Hui had starred in. It had been pure agony for his eyes.

“She didn’t just run off early to avoid me, did she?”

This question had everyone deep in thought.