The man’s striking features leaned in close, his presence enveloping her entirely. Lu Zixiao’s breath carried an overwhelming intensity, pressing down on her with an almost suffocating force. The air fell into a heavy silence.

With one hand, Lu Zixiao cradled the back of her head, drawing her toward him. Cheng Youran had no choice but to tilt forward, her wide eyes locked onto his.

Just as his Adam’s apple bobbed and he was about to press his lips to hers, she hesitated, then suddenly spoke.

“You already have crow’s feet, and you still say we’re the same generation?”

Crow’s feet…

The moment those words landed, Lu Zixiao’s face darkened instantly. The warmth in his eyes chilled to frost, and the very air around them seemed to freeze over.

His hand on her waist loosened immediately. Without a word, he let go of her, tossed something onto the conference table, and turned on his heel to leave.

The door slammed shut behind him with unmistakable finality.

It was almost summer, yet Cheng Youran, now standing alone, felt an unmistakable chill. She instinctively rubbed her arms.

Watching Lu Zixiao walk away without a backward glance, she blinked.

…Had she just shattered his fragile ego?

She withdrew her gaze and looked down at the conference table. Sitting there wasn’t just anything—it was her bank card. (” )

A wave of regret hit her. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Lu Zixiao the truth.

Clearly, he was… extremely sensitive about his age.

With a sigh, Cheng Youran picked up the card and instinctively checked her balance.

She hadn’t expected much, but when she saw the number, her eyes widened in shock. She vaguely remembered having just over three million in the account—yet now, it had skyrocketed to ten million. Triple the amount.

Just as she was reeling from the surprise, her phone rang. Still in a daze, she answered without checking the caller ID.

“Hello—”

“Good day, Ms. Cheng! Integrity Wealth Management, your path to stable riches! Invest with Licai, satisfaction guaranteed! Principal 100% secure, with a stable annual return of 50%—”

“Sorry, not interested.”

She politely ended the call.

She really didn’t need it.

After all, no financial product could offer a higher return or greater security than investing in Lu Zixiao.

With that thought, Cheng Youran slung her bag over her shoulder and took the elevator downstairs.

Lu Zixiao was already in the car, his fingers tapping lightly on the keyboard. Even through the closed car window, she could feel the icy aura radiating from him.

Cheng Youran opened the car door and got in, stealing a glance at Lu Zixiao.

She hadn’t expected that the moment she sat down, bang—Lu Zixiao snapped his laptop shut with such force and speed that all she caught was a blur. But in that fleeting moment, she swore she saw the word “crow’s feet” on the screen.

She stared at him, wide-eyed.

Fastening her seatbelt in the back, she cautiously asked, “Are you… really that mad?”

Lu Zixiao lowered his gaze. “I’m older. I’m not mad at all.”

Cheng Youran: ………

After she closed the car door, the driver started the engine, and the Maserati smoothly pulled away, heading toward the Lu estate.

The steady drive gave Cheng Youran an odd sense of reassurance. She quietly scooted closer to Lu Zixiao, planning to slip the bank card back into his suit pocket.

But just as her fingers were about to brush the fabric, a warm hand caught her wrist—firm and unyielding.

She froze.

Busted.

Click—

The bank card, still carrying the lingering warmth of her fingertips, slipped onto the seat.

“What are you trying to do?”

Lu Zixiao’s dark eyes locked onto hers, sharp and probing, as if searching her expression for answers.

Cheng Youran discreetly tightened her grip on his arm, attempting to break free—but he didn’t budge.

After a brief pause, she sighed and said, tactfully, “I thought about it on the way down… I should probably just leave my bank card with you.”

Was this… her way of apologizing?

Lu Zixiao raised an eyebrow but remained silent, his gaze unwavering. Then, in a slightly amused tone, he asked,

“Why?”

Because the returns can triple in just a week.

—Lu Zixiao was practically a magical money-making fairy.

Of course, she couldn’t say that outright. Instead, Cheng Youran opted for a more tactful approach.

“If I leave my card with you, will I have a hundred million in a year?”

The moment those words left her mouth, Lu Zixiao’s previously relaxed expression turned ice-cold once more. He let out a sharp laugh, tightened his grip on her wrist, and leaned in close.

“Cheng Youran,” he said with a smirk, his voice dangerously low, “let me make one thing clear—absolutely not.”

Cheng Youran: …Yep. Still holding a grudge about the ‘old’ comment.

Just then, her phone chimed with a new message.

Lu Zixiao let out a soft scoff and finally released her wrist.

Cheng Youran let out a breath of relief and glanced at her phone. It was a WeChat message from Feng Tiantian.

[Feng Tiantian] Check Weibo! Now!

Weibo? What happened?

She tapped into the app and was immediately bombarded by an overflowing inbox—her private messages were completely flooded. Most of them came from the fans of Xu Chi, a top-tier idol.

[Xu Ge’s Little Angel] Stop the fake ties! Stop the marketing! Leave my brother alone!

[Lemon Without Sugar] Our Xu Chi is an artist. He has a clear vision for his career and would never take on a low-quality cash-grab film.

[Sweet & Sour Ribs] The boy doesn’t need money. He wouldn’t stoop so low to act in trash movies.

Cheng Youran’s expression turned unreadable.

Xu Chi—if you were being polite, you’d call him a top-tier idol. If you weren’t? Well… aside from his face, he had nothing else to offer.

Gossip forums often compared him to a “female version of Cheng Youran”, jokingly calling them a matching sibling duo. Because of this unfortunate association, they always acted like strangers whenever they crossed paths—there was no actual friendship between them.

Cheng Youran couldn’t understand why Xu Chi’s fans had come looking for her. It wasn’t until she opened the trending list that she realized the news of Xu Chi lashing out at someone had climbed to the second spot on the hot search rankings.

And at #1? Gu Yao’s Hollywood debut.

…Well then.

Tianyin Building – Recording Studio

Xu Chi’s manager massaged his temples, his headache worsening by the second.

Inside the recording booth, Xu Chi was singing with absolute passion, completely immersed in the music.

Unfortunately, the sound coming through the speakers made his manager want to shove cotton balls into his ears.

—Pure auditory torture.

It seemed the heavens had poured all of Xu Chi’s talent into his face—because when it came to singing, he was completely tone-deaf. Dancing? Offbeat, stiff, and robotic. Acting? Nonexistent.

“…It can be fixed.”

The sound engineer, noticing the manager’s despair, offered a few reassuring words.

“Good,” the manager sighed in relief.

The manager let out a sigh of relief. If it couldn’t be fixed, next month’s album release would be nothing short of public humiliation.

After finishing his recording session, Xu Chi stepped out of the studio. His short silver-gray hair, fair skin, and strikingly rare light brown eyes caught the light as he asked, “What brings you here?”

“I came to talk to you about something. Do you know Pete Sketch?” His manager handed him a bottle of mineral water.

“No, I don’t.”

Xu Chi shook his head without a hint of hesitation.

Manager: …

Seeing Xu Chi’s completely indifferent expression, the manager nearly collapsed from frustration.

“He’s an internationally acclaimed director! He reached out this morning—he wants you to play the second male lead in his new film.”

Xu Chi’s expression darkened slightly. Under the sunlight, his pupils reflected a faint glow, eerily cat-like.

“Who’s the male lead?” he asked, his tone noticeably displeased.

“They’re in talks with Yan Junze for the male lead, and the female lead has already been confirmed—Gu Yao.”

The manager’s expression showed a hint of envy.

If there were tiers among resource-backed actors, then Gu Yao was at the top—not only well-connected but also genuinely talented.

Even after the disastrous failure of Fenghua, she had effortlessly landed a role in Peter Sketch’s film, distancing herself from the doomed project. Other actresses her age could only watch in frustration, biting their pillows in envy.

“Gu Yao? I’m not doing it.”

Xu Chi twisted off the cap of his Evian water bottle and took a deep gulp. Droplets trickled down his elegant neck, catching the light.

To him, Gu Yao felt too perfect—suspiciously perfect. Everyone praised her, yet something about her just seemed… fake.

The manager nodded knowingly.

“Well, that leaves you with Cheng Youran. The Lu Corporation is planning a film for June, and from what Director Li said, they’re looking for a high-profile male lead.”

And in terms of popularity, Xu Chi was undeniably the biggest name in the industry. There was no avoiding him.

“Cheng Youran?”

Hearing that name, Xu Chi frowned. The last thing he wanted was headlines screaming, “Xu Chi and Cheng Youran Reunite—A Sisterhood Like No Other!”

“Sign me up for Skate’s film.”

“Bro, it’s Sketch. Peter Sketch,” the manager corrected, his lips twitching.

“Yeah, whatever. Just take the deal. And turn down Lu Corporation’s project for me.”

With that, Xu Chi grabbed his phone and strode toward the elevator.

“Well…”

The manager hesitated. After all, this was Lu Corporation’s first film. Their status alone made it worth considering. He carefully probed, “Maybe we should at least check your schedule? If it fits, then—”

“Not happening.”

Xu Chi cut him off without hesitation, pressing the elevator button.

When he didn’t hear any further objections, a vague sense of unease crept up on him.

Pausing, he pulled out his phone, quickly typed up a Weibo post, and hit send.

[Xu Chi] Official Statement:
I am fully dedicated to my acting career and will not be collaborating with certain individuals, nor will I waste my time on subpar films.

Only after hitting send did he finally breathe a sigh of relief and step into the elevator.

—

“You guys approached Xu Chi for the male lead?”

Cheng Youran frowned in confusion. That didn’t seem right—the director hadn’t even officially announced the project yet. There was no reason to lock in a male lead this early.

Especially not him.

Xu Chi’s acting… Let’s be honest, you could grab a random person off the street, and they’d probably do a better job.

As soon as his post went up, it spread like wildfire, racking up thousands of shares and comments. Within minutes, it hit the trending list.

At this point, who couldn’t tell he was talking about Cheng Youran?

[@LittleFox] “Won’t waste his life on bad films”? LMAO, does he even believe that himself? Coming from the ‘Movie King’ with a lifetime Douban rating average of 3.0?”

[@VoyagerFleet] “To be fair, Cheng Youran’s average Douban score is 3.1—still better than Xu Chi’s. They’re a perfect match.”

[@XuChiFanLily] “Stop forcing this narrative! Stop the marketing! My idol works way harder than Cheng Youran. He once practiced dancing for three days straight without resting!”

—

“We didn’t.”

Sitting in the front seat, Fang Liuyun replied, looking puzzled.

“Then I’m guessing they couldn’t find anyone else.”

Cheng Youran handed her phone to Fang Liuyun.

Honestly? If the paycheck was good enough, she could have just sucked it up and taken the role. But now, thanks to Xu Chi’s post, actors with bigger names wouldn’t want to lower themselves, and those with better skills would be afraid of tarnishing their reputations by being labeled a “has-been who fumbled a sure thing.”

Fang Liuyun’s face darkened after reading the trending topic. They had never even considered Xu Chi for the role—his acting skills were… well, nonexistent. She had no idea where he got the rumor.

“Xu Chi?”

Lu Zixiao repeated the name, his gaze thoughtful.

By the time the car pulled up to the Lu residence, only Cheng Youran got out. Lu Zixiao had decided to return to the office, and Fang Liuyun was in a rush to find an assistant director and fast-track the casting process.

Back home, Cheng Youran turned on her laptop, getting ready for a video lesson with Professor Meng. She had an hour to kill before the scheduled session, so she logged into All Nations Cultivation guild.

Maybe it was because exam season was near, but most of the guild members had vanished. Only a few girls were left, doing quests while gossiping.

[GrapeVine] “Did you guys see the trending topic? Xu Chi is so bold—he actually called out Cheng Youran.”

[NotWorkingToday] “Honestly, I kinda wanted to see them act together. Sure, their acting sucks, but they’re easy on the eyes.”

[RainTurnsToButterflies] “Now that Xu Chi backed out, I wonder who’s gonna take the role.”

Cheng Youran had logged in to unwind, but after seeing the conversation in the guild chat, Xu Chi’s post resurfaced in her mind.

Unable to resist, she typed:

[Cheng Youran] “Xu Chi? Please. Yan Junze fits the role way better.”

[RainTurnsToButterflies] “Everyone knows Yan Junze has both the looks and the talent, but the real question is—would he even take the role?”

[NotWorkingToday] “Exactly. Xu Chi publicly declared he wouldn’t sink with a ‘terrible movie.’ Someone of Yan Junze’s status wouldn’t pick up something another actor turned down.”

Cheng Youran had no comeback for that.

Rumor had it that Yan Junze’s father was a coal tycoon—he’d had a chauffeur driving him to school since childhood. Money was never an issue; acting was purely a passion project.

[Xiao Youzi] “What a shame.”

—Yeah, a shame he can’t be bought.

Ding!

A crisp notification sound echoed from her laptop.

Cheng Youran looked up—Professor Meng was online. Just as she was about to put her phone down, a message popped up in the game chat.

[EastSeaYanJunze] “Do you really want him to take the role?”

=^_^=