Shang Xinglu stared at Marilyn in shock.

Neurosurgery…

She took a sip of tea and sighed deeply.

“Honey, are you implying I’m an idiot? I’ll tell you, even though you don’t pay me a salary, I can still…” She paused, and couldn’t quite straighten her back. “…No, I won’t fire you. But I can deduct your salary!”

Marilyn remained calm.

Marilyn had been able to work under Shang Xinglu for so long, so she naturally knew how to handle her.

If you try to take Shang Xinglu seriously, you’ve already lost.

Marilyn said, “I know exactly what happened when Mr. Lin gave me the day off. But the follow-up checks are indeed on your schedule.”

Upon hearing this, Shang Xinglu’s heart skipped a beat.

To be honest, she didn’t really want to know these things.

It was like the more ignorant a person was, the more they wanted to cover their ears, close their eyes, and stay in their comfort zone.

It was because she didn’t know that she felt something was off.

An indescribable sense of unease.

Although she lived in a wealthy family, especially the Lin family with its many hidden secrets, and Lin Heng and Lin Yan sometimes spoke in ways she couldn’t understand, Shang Xinglu didn’t think much of it.

But Marilyn’s words made her feel a bit uneasy.

Her right eyelid twitched in a superstitious way.

Marilyn made it clear she had been on leave and was unaware of the situation.

Shang Xinglu went to the study to find Lin Heng.

Lin Heng wasn’t looking at the computer; he was reading a book.

He was flipping through an old, yellowed book with a heavy leather cover, embossed with gold letters.

The light from the glass lamp cast a warm glow on his face.

At that moment, he seemed so still, his expression so calm, yet incredibly captivating.

So…so good-looking.

Shang Xinglu almost forgot what she wanted to ask.

A certain “face dog” had been staring at the door for so long; how could Lin Heng not notice?

He looked up and glanced at Shang Xinglu.

Just from her expression, Lin Heng already knew what she was going to ask.

Lin Heng said, “After all, you hit your head. The follow-up checks are still necessary.”

Shang Xinglu thought back to the car accident.

…Come to think of it, she did hit her head.

Although there were no external injuries, she hadn’t recovered right away and stayed in the car for a while before regaining her composure.

She said, “Oh.”

That was it.

But Lin Heng put down the book, walked to the door, and said, “Don’t overthink it.”

Shang Xinglu nodded.

“I’ll go with you tomorrow,” he added.

Lin Heng kissed her forehead.

The affectionate yet somewhat meaningless gesture suddenly made Shang Xinglu feel reassured.

The next day, they went to the hospital.

Shang Xinglu underwent a few checks and then brought the results to her attending doctor, Dr. Gu.

Everything was fine.

Dr. Gu didn’t say much more.

The checkup was finished in a rather perfunctory manner.

Shang Xinglu didn’t really understand the necessity of this checkup, but the results confirmed that she was perfectly healthy, and she left the hospital feeling satisfied.

Before they left, Dr. Gu spoke a few words with Lin Heng, stepping aside from Shang Xinglu.

Occasionally, Shang Xinglu overheard some words like “signs,” “recovery,” “possibility,” “keep calm,” and “avoid stimulation.”

She suddenly held her face with both hands, her face full of shadows.

Could it be… could it be some terminal illness?!

But she quickly dismissed the thought.

She had just seen the report and the results—she was in perfect health, no illness whatsoever.

When Lin Heng returned, Shang Xinglu asked, “What did he say to you?”

Lin Heng looked at her quietly for a moment, then smiled.

He deliberately said, “He told you to eat more nutritional supplements to nourish your brain.”

Shang Xinglu: “…………”

…Mr. Lin, I advise you to be a kind person!

After this day of rest, Shang Xinglu became busy again with the promotion of the new product.

Busyness was the enemy of overthinking.

When she became immersed in work, these small, insignificant matters were the last thing on her mind.

Making money to support the family was the most important thing!

At the beginning of Bichen Cosmetics’ launch, sales were quite good.

Although it hadn’t officially been promoted yet, due to the rising popularity and excellent reputation of their skincare products, many loyal Bichen fans were willing to try it.

Moreover, the lip gloss and blush highlighter palette was a collaboration with a well-known domestic comic, so fans of the comic were eager to purchase just for the original work.

During the pre-sale, fans of the original work complained about the inexperienced manufacturer, calling it a cash grab by the official team, and worried that their enthusiasm would be extinguished by poor-quality merchandise.

But when the first batch of products reached consumers, many of the previously doubting fans had a different story to tell.

This time, however, it was a self-inflicted slap to the face.

For example: “Damn! My face got slapped red! The quality is really comparable to top brands. Even though it’s matte, it’s not drying, and the color lasts. Look, this is after ten hours out, no food but some water. It did wear off a bit, but it’s really excellent!”

Also:

“This shade of milk tea with a peachy undertone… is absolutely stunning. It makes the lips look so healthy!”

And:

“Huge shoutout to the manufacturer for this quality merch! No more talking—I’m off to buy more of their products!”

Fans of the original manga, who had been on the fence, quickly joined the buying frenzy.

Meanwhile, loyal fans of Bichen saw how manga fans were snapping up the products and, fearing they might miss out on the first batch, rushed to the flagship store to grab theirs.

The cosmetics line, which was initially expected to sell modestly without advertising, ended up selling out overnight.

Even Bichen’s own company was left dumbfounded.

Everyone was asking, “What just happened?”

Xiao Wu, hugging a water bottle like a microphone, struck a dramatic stage pose and narcissistically declared, “It’s all because we’re just too popular.”

Shang Xinglu’s assistant, Xiao Ke—who had no fear of death—added, “Yeah, who knows? Maybe you’re even more famous than your idol now.”

Xiao Wu: “!!!”

And then, the two of them got into a heated argument.

By this point, everything Bichen launched turned to gold. At first, people called it luck, a streak of good fortune. But after this many consecutive successes, it was clear they were becoming a trendsetter.

Of course, fame also comes with its fair share of headaches.

Bichen had long been in competition with Yizhuang.

Since Bichen’s acquisition, both companies had been in the skincare business, targeting similar demographics.

Plus, the personal rivalry between Yin Yao and Yizhuang’s people only fueled the competition.

Over time, Bichen pulled ahead in sales, even luring away a chunk of Yizhuang’s potential customers, which naturally didn’t sit well with them.

But what really ticked Yizhuang off came next.

Realizing they couldn’t beat Bichen in skincare, Yizhuang decided to explore a new avenue.

Coincidentally—or perhaps not—they also entered the cosmetics market, launching their new line around the same time as Bichen.

Once again, Bichen’s products sold out in a flash, while Yizhuang, despite investing in early promotions, was left with heaps of unsold inventory.

To be fair, having stock on hand wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

But watching their rival sell out without even launching a marketing campaign? That was painful.

And so, Yizhuang made a bold move.

They changed their packaging.

More specifically, they redesigned their packaging to closely resemble Bichen’s aesthetic.

They even borrowed color schemes from Bichen’s lip tints and eyeshadows—almost like they were positioning themselves as a cheaper alternative.

Bichen, caught off guard by the overwhelming demand, had just begun ramping up its cosmetics production line. Naturally, they struggled to keep up with orders.

With so many eager buyers left waiting, frustration began to grow.

That’s when Yizhuang’s “dupe” products appeared on the market, gaining some traction.

Manager Wang of Yizhuang, seeing the rise in sales, was over the moon, convinced that his decision had been “brilliant and strategic.”

Meanwhile, Bichen’s employees were furious.

Especially Xiao Wu.

As a designer with a formal background—who had won awards even before graduating—she had zero tolerance for copycats.

Bichen’s packaging, though minimalist and clean, had its own distinct style.

Unlike those mimicking high-end brands, Bichen had crafted a fresh, elegant, and functional design with thoughtful details.

Their products just felt right.

The same went for their cosmetics.

The packaging for their manga collaboration, for instance, seamlessly incorporated elements from the original work, adding just the right touch of whimsy.

Even if you removed the brand name, most people would instantly recognize it as a Bichen product.

But now, knockoffs were flooding the market.

Xiao Wu was livid.

In contrast, Yin Yao and Shang Xinglu remained completely unfazed.

Xiao Wu slammed the table, “Boss Lu! Let’s destroy them!”

Shang Xinglu: “???”

Since when am I some kind of battle goddess or drama queen?

Yin Yao casually slid a tube of Yizhuang’s lip tint across the table toward Xiao Wu. “Try it.”

Xiao Wu hesitated but eventually twisted it open.

The moment she did, her brows furrowed.

Bichen’s lip tint had a light, fresh peach fragrance that perfectly matched its youthful packaging.

Yizhuang’s?

It reeked of cheap perfume and had an unpleasant chemical undertone.

Then, she applied it to her lips.

Bichen’s formula was a smooth, mousse-like texture that dried down beautifully, staying put without transferring.

Yizhuang’s, though also mousse-based, never fully dried.

It kept smudging onto cups and quickly wore off in uneven patches.

As for the shade itself, Yizhuang had only kind of copied Bichen’s signature color.

Bichen’s star shade was a delicate blend of milk tea and peach—perfectly suited for autumn but still fresh enough for summer.

Yizhuang’s version leaned too orange. Instead of a subtle, versatile hue, it looked like straight-up tangerine, making lips stand out in an unflattering way.

On their official product images, Yizhuang had either heavily edited the colors or used deceptive lighting, claiming their shade was an 80% match to Bichen’s best-selling tint—at a lower price.

But in reality, the difference was obvious.

Plus, rushing production meant they had cut corners on quality control.

Meanwhile, Bichen never compromised on quality, even if it meant slower output.

Their strategy was clear: offer high-end quality at mid-tier prices, sacrificing some profit to build an unbeatable reputation.

Yizhuang, on the other hand, was focused on short-term gains, resulting in a subpar product.

Shang Xinglu said, “As for the packaging issue, our legal team will handle the copyright lawsuit. Protecting original work is everyone’s responsibility.

As for whether we should publicly call out Yizhuang’s product…”

She smirked.

“Why should we give them free publicity? If we waste time arguing with wannabes, we’ve already lost.”

Bichen decided to stay quiet—for now.

Then came Yizhuang’s downfall.

As soon as their first batch of products sold out, they rushed to expand production.

But with poor quality control, the backlash hit hard.

Their flagship store was soon flooded with bad reviews: complaints about texture, longevity, scent, and inaccurate shades.

Seeing this flood of criticism, potential buyers hesitated.

Sure, the product was cheap—but wasn’t it better to just spend that money on bubble tea and actually feel happy?

Meanwhile, Yizhuang had ramped up production, churning out another massive batch.

Now, their warehouse was overflowing with unsold stock.

Manager Wang’s face turned green.