The contract loopholes that Lawyer Wang pointed out could hardly be called loopholes. They were contract traps deliberately set by the party in power against the party without bargaining power.

These traps weren’t specifically intended to harm anyone; they were just common little tactics used by the dominant party to ensure absolute control. If the other party had any leverage, they wouldn’t have presented such a contract template in the first place.

For example, Li Che’s contract didn’t have any of these issues.

Modifying a few clauses wouldn’t cost them much, and since Li Che had spoken up, they had to give him face.

So just as Ji Mingshu’s princess syndrome was about to flare up, the production team promptly delivered a contract that satisfied her.

The producer was adept at treating people differently and extremely flexible. One moment he was mentally grumbling “sign it or don’t, if you don’t, then leave,” and the next moment, in front of Ji Mingshu, he put on an approachable and friendly producer facade, showing extraordinary patience and courtesy to her as an ordinary participant.

Ji Mingshu’s mind was full of thoughts about contradicting Cen Sen—if he didn’t want her to participate, then she would participate.

Besides, the contract had been amended and the producer had apologized, so she couldn’t be bothered to quibble over such small matters. With a flourish, she signed her name at the end of the contract.

The show was scheduled to begin filming in a week. After signing the contract, the producer explained some details about the team arrangements and related procedures to her and Li Che. He cordially informed both of them that they could contact him directly with any questions, and even personally escorted them to the elevator when they left.

As the elevator doors closed, the producer’s abstract pancake face gradually disappeared. Li Che turned slightly and took the initiative to greet her: “Ms. Ji, long time no see.”

“Long time no see,” Ji Mingshu also returned the greeting politely, adding, “Thank you for your help with the contract just now.”

Li Che smiled, “It’s nothing.”

Ji Mingshu was accustomed to people looking out for her and also felt it was a small matter, so she simply nodded slightly without further pleasantries.

The elevator suddenly plunged into silence following her curt response.

Li Che’s executive manager, assistant, and legal counsel all unconsciously glanced at Ji Mingshu.

It had been a long time since someone had been so cold to Li Che, and they all genuinely wondered from the depths of their souls: Sister, aren’t you going to make some small talk, add him on WeChat, ask for an autograph, or take a photo together?

Although Li Che wasn’t a top-tier celebrity, his fame and popularity among the young idol stars placed him in the upper circle.

Plus, with the backing of powerful supporters, his fashion resources and film/TV resources far outstripped other male celebrities of the same level.

Furthermore, with plans to officially end his on-screen partnership with Meng Xiaowei now on the agenda, his prospects were not to be underestimated.

Nowadays, wherever Li Che went, he was surrounded by admirers and flatterers. Ji Mingshu’s unusual coldness made his entourage extremely uncomfortable.

Li Che himself didn’t seem to mind. When Ji Mingshu didn’t speak, he continued the conversation on his own, saying gently: “It’s actually quite regrettable. The producer said we were originally arranged to be in the same team, but the sponsor had their own considerations, so they changed the grouping arrangements.”

Ji Mingshu: “Is that so? That’s too bad.”

What difference does it make who I’m teamed with? After all, I’m here to outshine everyone else.

The entourage: “…”

Is she a rival’s fan or our anti-fan? How can she be so perfunctory?

The conversation died again, and the elevator once more fell into silence. Fortunately, the elevator descended quickly, so the awkward silence didn’t last long.

Reaching the underground parking garage on the first basement level, Ji Mingshu’s star-like demeanor exceeded even Li Che’s. She briefly uttered “goodbye” before putting on her sunglasses and walking away as if no one else existed.

Li Che’s entourage all wore expressions of speechlessness, and even Li Che was momentarily stunned before smiling again.

Once they got into their van, Li Che’s entourage began discussing animatedly:

“This Ms. Ji has such a grand attitude. Anyone who didn’t know better would think she was the celebrity. So arrogant—it’s something to see.”

“Has she signed with some agency and is preparing to debut? She does look quite striking.”

“Not sure, but her family must be well-off. That dress that Little Wei borrowed for the last joint magazine cover with Che—the ‘Zero Degrees’ one—I think it was borrowed from her.”

“True, she’s decked out in luxury items, and her handbag is a rare BK leather. She must be very rich.”

“Her watch looks like VCA style, but I haven’t seen that dial before. It’s either fake or custom-made.”

As they talked, they curiously questioned Li Che, who indicated that he wasn’t very clear about her background either.

Not only was Li Che unclear, but even Meng Xiaowei only knew that Ji Mingshu came from a good family and had a close relationship with Gu Kaiyang. She didn’t even know that Ji Mingshu was already married, otherwise she wouldn’t have suggested the idea of creating a CP with Li Che to the producer.

After discussing for quite a while without concluding, they strongly suspected that Ji Mingshu was deliberately giving Li Che attitude or trying to attract his attention by taking a different approach.

To be honest, Ji Mingshu wasn’t deliberately giving Li Che attitude, nor did she intend to attract his attention by being different.

She had seen too many celebrities accompanying people for drinks, sleeping with them, and being sycophantic, having different faces in public and private. She had long lost her sense of novelty toward celebrities.

Besides, meeting celebrities was far too easy for her, and this industry had no special aura in her eyes.

To Ji Mingshu, Li Che was like a casual acquaintance from an elective college course—there was no real connection, and no need for excessive cordiality.

After getting in the car, Ji Mingshu reported the day’s contract signing to Gu Kaiyang and Jiang Chun, and also copied the same message to Cen Sen.

She objectively recounted what had happened that afternoon, without acting like a whiny baby or adding cute emoji packs, but somehow, endless grievance from the princess could be felt through her statement.

As proof that girlfriends always understand better than men:

When they heard that the production team had only sent a junior assistant to receive her and that there were flaws in the contract, Gu Kaiyang and Jiang Chun responded almost instantly, taking turns to passionately curse for ten minutes.

The gist was “Xingcheng TV must be going bankrupt,” “Those blind dogs don’t recognize a princess, whoever wants to participate can participate, our baby won’t suffer this grievance,” “How can they treat our most delicate little canary baby like this? It’s outrageous, unconscionable, they deserve to die on the spot!”

While the girlfriend chat group had already finished the verbal abuse, there was still no response from Cen Sen.

Ji Mingshu didn’t want to return to the hotel, so she had the driver take her directly to Jinsheng International, the largest mall in Xingcheng.

Jinsheng International’s variety of brands and completeness of merchandise were passable. She shopped for more than forty minutes and spent over 500,000 yuan.

As she finished shopping and prepared to leave, Cen Sen finally replied.

Cen Sen: [Get used to it.]

Ji Mingshu: […?]

Cen Sen had just finished negotiating a contract himself. The negotiation had gone quite smoothly, so he was in a decent mood.

Now having some free time, he casually sent a few reminders filled with life philosophy to this pampered princess.

Cen Sen: [You’re not a celebrity. They have limited knowledge about you, so it’s perfectly normal for them to treat you with less regard.]

Cen Sen: [The preferential treatment you usually enjoy comes from your background and from the fact that your husband is me. And while you enjoy preferential treatment, many others are treated with less regard. You should experience this feeling more often; it would be beneficial for you.]

“…”

When had he ever been this talkative before?

Not only did he not comfort her, but why was he suddenly lecturing her about life philosophy?

Was it because she had just spent over 500,000 yuan, and he was implying something?

Stingy dog of a man!

But considering that she had just spent some money, Ji Mingshu couldn’t directly turn on her cash cow, so she responded perfunctorily, “You’re right.”

After sending that, she quickly changed her attitude, took a screenshot of Cen Sen’s toxic chicken soup, and planned to send it to her girlfriend group, hoping to unite their collective power to thoroughly humiliate and criticize this dog of a man.

She even started with: “Look at this. Does this sound like human language?”

In the second before pressing send, she suddenly paused, realizing something was wrong.

Wait.

This wasn’t the group chat.

How did she end up sending it to him again?

Ji Mingshu was stunned for two seconds and quickly deleted the unsent text.

But the screenshot had already been sent, and Cen Sen had replied with a question mark, seemingly not understanding why she suddenly sent him a chat screenshot.

Ji Mingshu: […]

Ji Mingshu: [Your phone is out of battery, look at the battery level in the top right corner.]

Oh no, that was her phone’s battery level. She quickly retracted the message and typed frantically.

Ji Mingshu: [I think what you said is very thought-provoking, I want to screenshot it for future reference.]

Ji Mingshu: [Sincere.jpg]

Cen Sen didn’t respond for a while. He searched online for how to quickly mark images in red, then sent the screenshot back to her.

Ji Mingshu opened it to find that Cen Sen had circled her contact name for him at the top of the original screenshot in red—”Dog Man.”

Careless, so careless.

Ji Mingshu, adhering to the principle that having just spent her sugar daddy’s money, she must maintain a harmonious and friendly relationship between them, closed her eyes and started laying on the flattery.

Ji Mingshu: [You’re so meticulous, with amazing powers of observation. No wonder you got into Harvard.]

Ji Mingshu: [How did you learn to mark with red circles? I don’t even know how. Your learning ability is really strong, drawing such perfect circles effortlessly. You must have been good at both math and art.]

Then she quickly changed his contact name and sent him another screenshot.

This time, the contact name was changed to “Darling Husband,” perfectly combining modern flattery art with the subtle art of “Are you satisfied now?” sarcasm, achieving the goal of making the other person feel uncomfortable yet unable to say anything.

Ji Mingshu was quite satisfied with her quick thinking and smiled as she ate her salad while checking her phone.

She had originally thought Cen Sen would reply with “childish” or simply not respond at all. Unexpectedly, two minutes later, Cen Sen also sent a screenshot where her contact name had been changed to “Darling Wife.”

Ji Mingshu: “…”

OJBK. In the course of “Give me a fulcrum and I can leverage the entire Earth,” Cen Sen was still the most outstanding scholar.

Outplayed, she surrendered. And the salad now seemed unappetizing due to the nauseating contact name.