CHAPTER 38 (PART 2)

Jiang Su glanced down at her phone.

8:00 sharp.

She turned her head… Hmm? A car was parked there.

“Alright, move to the side,” Cheng Yue ordered from inside the vehicle.

Even the secretary and the driver were momentarily stunned.

“We’re leaving?” the secretary asked in a low voice.

Cheng Yue frowned. “Just park somewhere less conspicuous.”

The secretary immediately understood. It was to avoid drawing attention. But why stop there for a moment in the first place? …Oh, so Jiang Su would notice? She did turn her head just now, didn’t she?

Once the car was parked in a less noticeable spot, the secretary got out first, bringing the coffee cart and the barista inside.

“Hey, what’s going on?” A staff member stopped them.

The secretary smiled. “Miss Jiang is treating everyone to coffee.”

Only then did the staff member let them in. As they turned away, they couldn’t help but marvel, “Jiang Su really goes all out. Didn’t she just treat everyone to private chef cuisine not long ago?”

The secretary took a few steps, paused briefly, then continued forward until they reached Jiang Su.

“Right on time,” Jiang Su looked up slightly.

The secretary was momentarily taken aback.

Why did it feel like the roles were reversed? It didn’t seem like a big boss taking a liking to a trainee in the entertainment industry and bestowing favors. Rather, Jiang Su herself seemed more like the one in charge here.

“Um… What kind of coffee would you like?” the secretary asked.

Jiang Su: “Anything.”

“Oh, no, not just anything. If you have time, you can come with me, and the barista can make something special just for you.” The secretary thought they were being clever—this way, they could bring Jiang Su over to Cheng Yue, and maybe Cheng Yue’s mood would improve a little.

“No time.”

“…” The secretary wiped their face. Was there anyone else as difficult as her?

Jiang Su really didn’t have the time.

Because Director Wang called her name moments later.

“Get ready! Get the wire rigs on, quick, quick, quick! The sooner we finish, the sooner we wrap up and go for a late-night snack!” Director Wang Shaojun clapped his hands and gave the order.

The crew began securing the wire rigs onto Xuan Wen and Jiang Su. Feng Jing sat to the side, receiving a cup of coffee.

“Yesterday it was bubble tea, and today it’s coffee…” Feng Jing murmured.

Cheng Yue was still sitting inside the car.

The secretary would probably bring Jiang Su over soon.

Cheng Yue waited for a while, but she never came. When he turned his head, he saw Jiang Su being hoisted up, suspended three meters in the air.

“…”

Irritation flickered across Cheng Yue’s face.

He pushed open the car door, put on sunglasses and a mask, and stepped out just as the secretary returned, nearly jumping in surprise.

“Mr. Cheng… Your, um, your outfit is… rather… unique.”

He looked like a bank robber. The secretary swallowed the last part of the sentence.

Cheng Yue had a tall frame and an intense, imposing presence. Standing there, he exuded an air of quiet menace.

Not that he would ever think of himself as intimidating.

He made a phone call, and within moments, the producers and supervisors of the drama arrived, flanking him like bodyguards as they accompanied him onto the set.

The staff on set didn’t recognize Cheng Yue, but they couldn’t help whispering among themselves.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Feng Jing’s manager muttered, equally puzzled. “If I had to guess, that car from earlier must be his.”

Just then, the director called out, “Action!” and the entire set fell silent.

Suspended by wires, Xuan Wen and Jiang Su were pulled swiftly into the air, their figures rising and falling in midair. Their prop blades clashed, producing the distinct plastic clinking sound of fake weapons.

Cheng Yue stared at the screen for a moment. “…They’re fighting?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the supervisor quickly responded.

Cheng Yue: “Is Yi Fengyan an idiot?”

Supervisor: ?

Producer: ?

Why does he sound so emotionally invested?

They had never heard of Mr. Cheng being interested in this kind of thing before…

Cheng Yue’s face darkened, and so did his gaze.

Jiang Su’s figure was delicate, and when suspended by the wire rig, she swayed easily in midair. The director repeatedly called “Action,” “Cut,” and “Again,” forcing Jiang Su to continuously collide with Xuan Wen, sword in hand, each time with the intensity of someone avenging a great personal loss.

Yi Fengyan was an idiot.

Jiang Su would die saving him, yet he had the audacity to fight her?

And the director was just as bad—each scene more brainless than the last.

Wang Shaojun sat behind the monitor, completely unaware of the danger looming over him.

He clapped his hands. “Oh, nice, nice! That’s good, you can come down now.”

He stood up and walked forward. “Jiang Su’s wirework looks amazing…”

Then he turned his head and noticed that Xuan Wen was still in a daze.

“Mr. Xuan, are you tired? Do you want to sit down and rest?”

Xuan Wen pinched his fingers.

They still felt a little numb.

Only then did he slowly snap out of it, glancing at Jiang Su. “…No, I’m not tired.”

Jiang Su’s expression remained unchanged, her movements still light and graceful as she calmly lowered her head, cooperating with the staff to remove the wire harness. She still looked as soft and fragile as ever.

Xuan Wen took a deep breath. Despite being over 1.8 meters tall, he seemed a little unsteady on his feet as he walked toward his chair.

Every time the director restarted the scene, Jiang Su crashed into him with full force.

If not for Xuan Wen’s greater weight, he might have been knocked over midair.

“Jiang Su, do you need a break?” Wang Shaojun had just asked when—

Jiang Su suddenly sensed something approaching from behind.

The presence was intense.

Every pore on her body instantly prickled open.

It was an instinctive reaction—the kind one had when sensing a powerful enemy.

Jiang Su clenched her fist, spun around swiftly—

…Huh?

It was Cheng Yue.

Jiang Su slowly relaxed her fingers.

Why was he here in person?

Last time, the pizza was sent over by his people.

Wang Shaojun was startled. He opened his mouth to ask who this was, but the producer and supervisor immediately stepped in between them.

“Shh.”

Wang Shaojun had no choice but to stay quiet.

Anyone working in this industry long enough knew when to keep their mouth shut.

Cheng Yue’s gaze slowly landed on Jiang Su’s wrist. A deep red mark there burned into his vision.

…So easily injured?

Wouldn’t the wire rig also leave marks around her waist?

The supervisor, watching from the side, suddenly realized something and quickly spoke up. “Miss Jiang, that mark on your wrist—it’s makeup, right?”

Jiang Su: “Mm.”

She lifted her wide sleeve, revealing a section of her arm. The red mark extended upward along her smooth, fair skin, forming intricate, interwoven patterns.

Cheng Yue: “…”

Oh.

So it wasn’t an injury.

But his expression didn’t improve. He asked, “What’s that supposed to be?”

Jiang Su was speechless.

Why does this guy talk so much?

Wang Shaojun quickly explained, “It’s called demonic patterns. Hey, this makeup is amazing on camera! If it weren’t for potential spoilers, we’d have posted it online already.”

Cheng Yue’s gaze lightly swept over Jiang Su’s arm.

Those so-called “demonic patterns” still looked like wounds in his eyes. Against her snow-white skin, they appeared even more cruel, fragile, and… beautiful.

Cheng Yue felt a strange heat pressing against his chest. The next second, acting purely on instinct, he averted his gaze and pulled down Jiang Su’s sleeve.

Jiang Su: ?

Cheng Yue was insane.

Or… was this part of some lackey’s code of conduct???

Cheng Yue also felt like he was losing it.

It was an indescribable sensation—something he had never experienced before. It filled his chest in an instant, making even his throat feel tight and dry.

Meanwhile, Feng Jing’s manager murmured, “This guy’s here for Jiang Su? That’s not a good sign. You should go check it out.”

Only then did Feng Jing stand up.

But the second female lead moved even faster.

She had also debuted in a girl group, though that was two years ago when her group was at its peak.

She had already been acting for two years.

In this drama, she even had a CP (romantic pairing) with the third male lead.

She approached with a smile. “Is he an investor?”

The supervisor answered, “No.”

He’s even more powerful than an investor.

The second female lead observed him for a moment, exchanged a few pleasantries, but when no one responded, she turned and left.

Cheng Yue didn’t acknowledge these random people who inserted themselves into the conversation. He simply said in a low voice, “Ensure the safety of the crew.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the producer and supervisor chimed in unison. “You’re absolutely right, we’ll remember that, we’ll all remember that!”

Cheng Yue still carried a lingering sense of frustration and an unexplainable feeling in his chest. His gaze swept coldly over the director.

“Yi Fengyan’s character is a complete idiot.”

With that, Cheng Yue turned and left.

The supervisor and producer followed behind him like little eunuchs sending off an emperor, bowing and scraping all the way.

Wang Shaojun, as if having suffered some sort of existential crisis, rubbed his head and mumbled to himself, “Is the male lead really that stupid? I thought he was fine…”

No one understood the director’s struggle.

At that moment, Xu Dazhi approached, ready to take Jiang Su to remove her makeup and grab something to eat.

“The group contract for live-stream sales—the others have all agreed. You’re the only one left.”

This is the limitation of being in a group.

For many people, being bound and restricted is somewhat uncomfortable.

That’s why, after achieving major success, many group members can’t wait to go solo.

Jiang Su, however, didn’t feel much about it.

The concept of a collective was something she had lacked the most in her past.

After reviewing the contract, Jiang Su swiftly signed it. While at it, she also signed contracts for a TV drama, advertising endorsements, and variety shows.

Battle Royale wanted to invite her for another episode, and this time, the theme was “Guess Who’s the Killer in the Crowd.”

The recording location was in Tongcheng, near Beijing.

Perhaps due to Jiang Su’s outstanding performance last time, the production team went all out and invited two additional female guests this time.

One was Yu Xinyan, while the other’s identity was still unknown.

After Sun & Moon Girls finished filming their MV, they sent Jiang Su and Yu Xinyan off in a car heading out of town. At that moment, the Bugatti La Voiture Noire once again appeared outside the set.

Sitting inside the car, Cheng Yue looked up at the wires above the set, then scanned the scene.

…She was gone.

The producer hurried over and carefully explained, “Didn’t you know? Miss Jiang’s scenes were already limited from the start—she’s wrapped up filming.”

“…” He didn’t know.

Miguang Platform was really stingy.

A third female lead, and she barely had any screen time.

Meanwhile, Jiang Su arrived in Tongcheng and soon parted ways with Yu Xinyan.

The production team began explaining the new rules.

“This time, all guests are not allowed to meet in advance. You will each receive a different identity card and need to disguise yourselves and blend into the crowd. Aside from carrying a personal GoPro, you will also have a follow-cam operator.

“Only your assigned follow-cam operator will know what disguise you’ve taken on.

“The activity zone is restricted to the CBD center in Tongcheng’s East District, with routes extending to the stadium. Who is the killer, and who is the prey—it’s all up to you…”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the CBD, at the entrance of Street No. 1—

A group of bodyguards had just escorted a man out of a car.

They looked around cautiously, highly alert.

“Mr. Yan, please be careful.”

Not Young Master Yan, but Mr. Yan.

The man wore gold-rimmed glasses, exuding an air of elite professionalism. He appeared a few years older than Yan Yucheng.