Zhang Yi, his face bruised and swollen from the beating, panicked at Zhang San’s threat. “Ah San, I was wrong! I’ll apologize! Do we really need to make such a big deal out of this?”

“Apologize? Do you take me for a fool? I’ve spent tens of thousands on your family over these three years, and you think a simple apology will fix everything? Let me tell you, not a chance!”

Zhang San’s eyes burned with fury. The hardships he had endured these past years wouldn’t be so easily forgotten.

After leaving those harsh words, Zhang San personally escorted Gu Xicao and Wang Laoshi downstairs and even hailed a cab for them.

Despite the split in his lip, Zhang San didn’t seem to care. He paid the fare in advance and said earnestly to Gu Xicao, “Master, thank you for today. I owe you one.”

“Mr. Zhang, you’re too kind,” Gu Xicao replied with a sympathetic nod. “If you truly want to repay me, just refer more clients my way. Here’s my business card.”

Wang Laoshi, ever the seasoned assistant, handed Zhang San a card. “Mr. Zhang, feel free to contact us if you need anything else. We can’t treat illnesses, but when it comes to fortune-telling, we’re the real deal.”

Zhang San took the card, his feelings mixed. He glanced at it and hesitated before asking, “What if I wanted to change careers? I don’t want to keep doing what I’ve been doing.”

There was a hint of embarrassment on his face.

Gu Xicao understood immediately. Zhang San had been working as a male escort to support his brother’s family. It was a quick way to make money but came with little dignity. Now that he no longer needed to support them, it was only natural for him to want to leave that line of work.

“There are thousands of paths in life. As long as you turn the page, Mr. Zhang, you’ll find brighter days ahead,” she said warmly.

“Thank you,” Zhang San said, his gratitude even more heartfelt this time.

Lighting a cigarette, he stood there watching the cab drive away.

Wang Laoshi turned to look back, feeling a pang of sympathy. “That poor guy really had it rough. If his brother hadn’t taken advantage of him, he could’ve done something better with his life.”

“Exactly,” Gu Xicao sighed, gazing out the window at the passing scenery. “Sometimes one wrong step can lead to a completely different fate.”

Wang Laoshi’s expression shifted slightly. He glanced at Gu Xicao, as if wanting to say something, but in the end, he lowered his head and stayed silent.

When they returned to the fortune-telling shop, they were greeted by the sight of Zhou Minwen and her manager waiting in the lobby. As soon as Zhou Minwen saw them, she stood up excitedly. “Master!”

“Miss Zhou, what brings you here today?”

Smiling, Gu Xicao nodded politely at their landlord, Mrs. Leung.

Mrs. Leung approached and whispered, “They’ve been here for half an hour, saying they absolutely had to see you. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Leung. Oh, could you send us a few servings of fish balls later?” Gu Xicao requested. Mrs. Leung had recently reopened her fish ball business, which was doing surprisingly well.

“Of course! I’ll pick out the biggest ones for you,” Mrs. Leung said cheerfully. She turned to Zhou Minwen and asked, “Miss Zhou, would you like some sauce with yours?”

Zhou Minwen politely declined. “We’re good, thank you. Master, we’re here because there’s an urgent matter, and we need you to come with us.”

Mrs. Leung’s ears perked up, but her pace remained comically slow as she walked away.

Catching sight of this, Gu Xicao suppressed a laugh and gave Mrs. Leung a knowing look, silently assuring her that her grandson’s matter was in good hands.

Reassured, Mrs. Leung finally left.

“Don’t worry,” Gu Xicao said calmly. “Let me grab some water first, and we can talk on the way.”

For some reason, Zhou Minwen and her manager felt much more at ease seeing Gu Xicao’s composed demeanor.

As they traveled, Zhou Minwen began to explain the reason for their visit.

For the past few months, Zhou Minwen had been filming a historical drama, a major production by TCB. To ensure its success, the television network had borrowed a jade bead necklace from the wife of a justice of the peace.

“Every single bead on that jade necklace is top-grade. It’s said the whole string is worth at least 8 million!”

The manager, driving the car, glanced at Gu Xicao through the rearview mirror and explained, “We all know how valuable it is, so we’ve been extremely careful since borrowing it. Originally, the necklace was shared between Ah Wen and Ms. Lin. Once Lin finished her scenes, it was Zhou Minwen’s turn. We only just got it today, and not long after, the necklace went missing.”

“Missing? Could it have been misplaced somewhere?”

Wang Laoshi, listening intently, asked out of curiosity.

Zhou Minwen shook her head. “We’ve searched everywhere, even turning over the bathrooms. Now, we’re afraid it wasn’t lost but ended up in someone else’s hands.”

Wang Laoshi paused, finally understanding Zhou Minwen’s implication.

He drew in a sharp breath, intrigued. “You’re suspecting someone stole it? Could it be one of Ms. Zhou’s rivals?”

“It’s hard to say,” the manager sighed. “You might not know, but midway through this production, they added another cast member.”

At this, the manager hesitated and glanced at Zhou Minwen.

Zhou Minwen forced a smile, one that looked more painful than cheerful. “It’s my younger sister, Zhou Minzhu.”

“It might not necessarily be Minzhu’s doing,” the manager quickly interjected. “There are a few others at the set who don’t get along with Ah Wen. For example, there’s Ms. Lin Xingyue, who fought with her over the lead role. Before that, she even spread rumors about Ah Wen. And let’s not forget the assistant director—a pervert who harasses every good-looking woman he sees. Ah Wen rejected him, and he’s been causing trouble for us ever since.”

Gu Xicao nodded knowingly.

Workplaces, after all, are rife with rivalries. For a popular actress like Zhou Minwen, enemies were inevitable.

“Master, if you can help me find the necklace, I’ll give you a big red envelope as thanks.” Zhou Minwen’s eyes reflected her anxiety and apprehension as she looked at Gu Xicao.

If the necklace, in her care, was lost, the monetary compensation would be the least of her worries. Offending a justice of the peace with wealth and influence could mean the end of her career. Even a popular actress like her could be blacklisted with a single word from them.

“I understand. Let’s discuss it when we get to the set.”

Gu Xicao gave a faint smile, her tone reassuring.

Hearing this, Zhou Minwen finally relaxed a little.

The filming location was at TCB’s studio lot.

When they arrived, Wang Laoshi, curious as ever, looked around excitedly. Gu Xicao also couldn’t help but glance at the bustling crew members coming and going.

This was the very place where countless classic films and TV dramas would be made in the future—a fact that filled her with awe.

“Director, it’s been a while since Ms. Zhou left. Do you think she’s coming back?”

Lin Xingyue reclined in her exclusive lounge chair on set, her feet up. A fan blew cool air directly at her, and two assistants attended her—one holding coffee and the other ready to touch up her makeup.

The director glanced at his watch, his brow furrowed. “She’s been gone for a while. Maybe there was traffic. Don’t worry—her scenes aren’t being shot right now anyway.”

“I’m not worried about her scenes,” Lin Xingyue said, sitting up. She tossed her script to an assistant and pouted. “I’m just concerned about the necklace. What if she used this as an excuse to make off with it? That necklace is worth 8 million! We can’t afford to lose it. Honestly, I think we should call the police.”

The assistant director chimed in. “Exactly! If we’d called the police earlier like I suggested, the truth would already be out by now.”

The director, holding his script, found himself at a loss. Ignoring them would seem irresponsible, but following their suggestions felt like admitting incompetence.

Involving the police could blow the matter out of proportion, and finding the necklace wasn’t even guaranteed. Worse, the situation could damage Zhou Minwen’s reputation.

The director didn’t consider himself a saint, but he wasn’t cruel enough to burn bridges like that.

“Hey, isn’t that her over there?”

The director looked up and saw Zhou Minwen returning with Gu Xicao and the others. He immediately stood, pretending not to have heard Lin Xingyue’s remarks.

Lin Xingyue followed his gaze and, spotting Zhou Minwen, sneered.

“Director, we’re back. I hope we didn’t cause any delays,” Zhou Minwen said as she approached.

The director waved her concerns away. “No problem. We’ve just wrapped a few scenes. So, did you find who you were looking for?”

Zhou Minzhu quietly emerged from the makeup room and cast a sharp look at Gu Xicao. Her eyes flickered with something unspoken as she smiled. “So, this is the master my sister brought? You’re as young and pretty as the photos.”

The assistant director leaned in, scanning Gu Xicao from head to toe. “And this master can figure out where the necklace is? Ms. Zhou, don’t tell me this is some stunt you’re pulling.”

Lin Xingyue giggled and lightly tapped the assistant director’s arm. “Oh, don’t say that. Even if Ms. Wen made a mistake, we’re all in the same industry. Can’t we just turn a blind eye and let it go?”

“Let it go? No way!” the assistant director scoffed, crossing his arms. “If someone can steal a necklace today, who knows what they’ll take tomorrow? We can’t have that kind of chaos on set!”

Zhou Minwen’s face flushed with embarrassment and anger.

She had grown used to hearing harsh words in the entertainment industry, but being accused and insulted like this still stung deeply.

Seeing her sister’s discomfort, Zhou Minzhu smiled with obvious satisfaction. “Don’t say such things. My sister isn’t that kind of person. When we were younger and struggling to make ends meet, the worst she ever did was pick discarded vegetable leaves from the market.”

“You—”

The manager’s face turned bright red with fury.

Lin Xingyue gasped in mock surprise, covering her mouth. “Picking vegetable scraps? My, Ms. Wen, you’re something else. If it were me, I’d rather starve than stoop that low. How is that different from being a beggar?”

After speaking, she laughed gleefully, as if she had just delivered the wittiest remark.

The director, unable to bear it anymore, interjected, “Enough of this nonsense. Right now, the priority is finding the necklace. Let’s see if the master can figure out its location so we can wrap up and go home.”

Most of the crew, already tired, nodded in agreement. While Lin Xingyue and the assistant director stirred up trouble, everyone else just wanted to finish for the day.

Zhou Minwen turned to Gu Xicao. “Master, do you need anything—”

Before she could finish, Gu Xicao scanned the surroundings and asked, “Where is your dressing room?”