After hearing from Liang, Chen Die only slept for a few hours that night.

At noon, Fang Ruan called and asked to meet her at a café.

Under Chen Shao’s leadership, Yi Ming Entertainment developed eating, drinking, and entertainment into the company’s development goals. While other companies had their CEO’s office on the top floor, Chen Shao’s company had a café there instead.

After the series of dramas during the Spring Festival, Chen Die had benefited from misfortune—her exposure and fan base had both skyrocketed.

“Two satellite TV variety shows want you. I think at this stage, participating in a variety show is quite good. At least the production cycle is short, and you can maintain visibility with the audience. Both of these shows record and broadcast simultaneously. Then we can wait for good scripts and choose carefully.”

Originally, Fang Ruan was quite worried that Chen Die would refuse, after all, she was stubborn. Now that she had become the company president’s sister, if she didn’t agree, Fang Ruan couldn’t arrange work she didn’t want to do.

Fortunately, Chen Die only paused briefly before nodding in agreement.

Fang Ruan placed two introduction documents in front of Chen Die: “One is a dating variety show. The production team will arrange for male and female celebrities to live together and record a reality show.”

“…” Chen Die had just yawned and almost choked. “Let’s not do that one.”

Fang Ruan had anticipated this reaction and chuckled lightly: “Then take a look at the second one, a lifestyle program called ‘Three Meals a Day.’ Like ‘Outdoor Chef,’ it’s also a slow-paced lifestyle show, but each episode takes place at a different location for two days and one night. You can see in advance who the other participants are.”

Chen Die had just entered the industry and hadn’t had conflicts with anyone, so the other members didn’t matter to her.

“It broadcasts on the same satellite TV channel as ‘Outdoor Chef,’ like a spin-off product. It starts with a good base viewership. Additionally, it records and broadcasts weekly, so you can see the finished product faster.”

Chen Die carefully examined the contract, checked everything once, and then signed her name at the bottom.

“Good.” Fang Ruan straightened the scattered A4 papers, relieved now that the contract was signed. “I’ll go find someone to send the contract to the production team for processing.”

After saying this, Fang Ruan left.

Chen Die hadn’t finished her coffee and wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Just as she was about to start a game, she heard the sound of high heels tapping up the wooden stairs behind her.

It was working hours, and although Yi Ming indeed had such a leisurely place in the company, at this time it was quiet except for a few employees having a small meeting.

Chen Die instinctively looked back.

It wasn’t someone she knew, but Chen Die felt a different kind of familiarity with her.

Ye Chuqing.

Ye Chuqing also saw her, but her reaction was far too shocked. She took a deep breath, widened her eyes, and pointed forcefully at Chen Die with her index finger.

Chen Die: “…”

She was genuinely confused.

Her relationship with Ye Chuqing shouldn’t be strong enough to warrant such excitement over a chance encounter, right?

Ye Chuqing ran over quickly, took another deep breath about to speak, but then noticed the staff discussing work at another round table. The words caught in her throat, and she changed what she was going to say.

“Let’s go out for afternoon tea.”

“…Okay.” Chen Die hesitated before agreeing.

There was a tea restaurant near the company.

Chen Die wasn’t even wearing a mask today. As soon as she walked in, people recognized her. She posed for several photos before finally entering a private room.

“What did you want to see me about?” Chen Die asked.

Ye Chuqing took a sip of tea, looked up at her, and then gave her a respectful gesture: “I admire you.”

“Hmm?”

“Is what they say online true? Chen Shao is your brother, and Wen Liang is your ex-boyfriend?”

Chen Die hadn’t expected to meet a real-life gossip fan: “…Sort of.”

“I admire you so much. How did you manage to stand between those two without dying from frustration?”

Once Ye Chuqing started on this topic, she became animated. These two men were simply the biggest obstacles she’d encountered since returning to China. The world had changed—were company CEOs all so unconventional now?

Chen Die didn’t know that Ye Chuqing was also acquainted with both men. She was still very tired, but since this person was the chairwoman of the film industry association, she forced herself to appear attentive: “What’s wrong with them?”

“I just went to your family’s company to discuss future film and television cooperation with your brother,” Ye Chuqing said.

Chen Die: “…”

The phrases “your family’s company” and “your brother” sounded so strange to her ears.

“Does Chen Shao have a problem? Why is he putting on airs with me?”

As she spoke, Ye Chuqing launched into a barrage of criticism.

Chen Die thought that Ye Chuqing and Chen Shao should have plenty to talk about; they both seemed outgoing and naturally sociable.

She was so tired…

She wanted to sleep.

When would this conversation end?

To speed things up, Chen Die forcibly changed the subject: “So what did Wen Liang do to you?”

“Sister, that slap of yours made me feel so satisfied! You avenged me!!”

Chen Die looked at Ye Chuqing before her—beautiful willow eyebrows, bright eyes, and red lips—very pretty, and it was an open, straightforward kind of beauty, the type that showed no shadows even in the sunlight.

And right now, she was genuinely delighted just because Chen Die had slapped Wen Liang.

Wait, when did Ye Chuqing go abroad?

…This couldn’t be some past romantic entanglement of Wen Liang’s, could it?

“You remember when you heard me on the phone last time? I was supposed to go on a blind date, and that bastard was him. That dog-like temper completely wastes that face of his.”

Chen Die: “…”

She didn’t hear clearly what Ye Chuqing said afterward.

So the person whose marriage rumors had spread with Wen Liang was Ye Chuqing?

Chen Die suddenly recalled what she had overheard of Ye Chuqing’s phone conversation earlier—

“Some men die when exposed to light, but he dies when he opens his mouth.”

“He even said he doesn’t consider me good enough. To hell with him! I used all my self-control not to kick him.”

That indeed sounded like something Wen Liang would say.

Although Chen Die’s initial anger wasn’t merely about Wen Liang having marriage rumors with another woman—it was more about the culmination of countless moments of feeling worthless that had built up into exhaustion.

But now, learning that the woman was Ye Chuqing, Chen Die inexplicably felt relieved.

After that relief came the embarrassment and shame of recalling her pathetic behavior at the time.

What was she even doing?

Ye Chuqing was, after all, the chairwoman of the film industry association. Although her personality was indeed unexpected, she was still competent. After complaining about the two men, Ye Chuqing casually chatted with Chen Die about some new regulations in the film industry this year.

With so many restrictions and limitations now, Chen Die learned some tips for selecting scripts from her.

At three-thirty in the evening, the two women stood up, preparing to leave the tea restaurant.

However, Chen Die had encountered fans when she came in. Someone had posted about spotting Chen Die on Weibo, and as soon as she went out, she was unexpectedly surrounded by layers of fans.

This was her first time experiencing such a situation.

She told Ye Chuqing to leave first while she handled the situation.

“Everyone, please quiet down.” Chen Die put her index finger to her lips and made a shushing sound. “Other customers are dining here. If you’d like photos, can we take them outside?”

The fans followed Chen Die outside the tea restaurant.

One fan handed their phone to a server. Chen Die walked to the center of the group and took a photo with them.

“Die Mei, keep working hard! We’ll always support you!!”

“Take good care of yourself. Don’t push too hard—your health is your capital.”

“Don’t take those negative comments online to heart. We all love you!”

…

The fans eagerly expressed their affection for Chen Die in a jumble of voices.

She rather admired how they could so openly express their love. This was a skill Chen Die had never mastered.

Perhaps her childhood experiences had made it difficult for her to express affection, for fear that this affection would not be properly reciprocated.

Chen Die sincerely thanked each of them and then waved goodbye.

Watching the fans wave as they left, Chen Die thought about calling Fang Ruan to send her home. Just as she took out her phone, it rang.

Chen Die looked down.

Surprisingly, it was Zhu Qicong calling.

“Hello?” Chen Die answered.

From the other end: “It’s me.”

The familiar voice—just hearing it brought his face to mind.

Chen Die was momentarily stunned, her fingers unconsciously tightening on the phone.

She didn’t speak, and Wen Liang asked: “Where are you?”

Chen Die didn’t answer this question, instead asking: “Why are you calling me from Zhu Qicong’s number?”

Wen Liang snorted coldly: “You blocked me, remember?”

“…”

Still that dog-like temper.

Chen Die stood by the roadside, afraid of being recognized, and lowered her head with the phone. She pursed her lips and gave a faint “Oh,” before finally answering his previous question: “None of your business where I am.”

Chen Die’s words were equally thorny.

Wen Liang clicked his tongue.

Neither spoke, and Chen Die was the first to break the silence: “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.”

“Oh.”

Chen Die frowned slightly, cursing Wen Liang several times in her heart, and decisively hung up the phone.

She stamped her foot on the spot, getting angrier the more she thought about it. Using Zhu Qicong’s phone to call her and say such nonsense—wasn’t he deliberately annoying her?

The next second, a pair of shoes appeared in her line of sight, stopping right in front of her.

Chen Die looked up and unexpectedly met Wen Liang’s dark eyes.

“You…” She was stunned.

Wen Liang looked at her: “I have something to say to you.”

Chen Die hadn’t reacted yet. She blinked, her black lashes fluttering, looking somewhat silly and cute at the moment. She stared at Wen Liang for five seconds before looking toward the roadside.

Sure enough, his car was parked across the street.

And he had pretended to ask where she was…

When chatting with Ye Chuqing earlier and learning that she was the blind date, Chen Die stopped being angry about it. But as soon as Wen Liang appeared before her, she immediately recalled all the hurtful things he had said to her that night.

She snorted and turned her face away: “Want to tell me again how stupid and easy I am? I don’t want to hear it…”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Chen Die quieted down, biting her lip, no longer continuing what she had been about to say.

“I was wrong that time. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” Wen Liang lowered his head to look at her, saying softly, “I’m sorry.”

In the face of this apology, Chen Die suddenly began to feel wrong: “That’s what you think, which is why it came out so easily in that situation, isn’t it?”

Wen Liang raised his hand and took hold of Chen Die’s hand.

He didn’t know why he did this; he just urgently wanted to comfort Chen Die. When he noticed she wasn’t struggling, he stepped forward again, reaching out to pull her into his arms.

Chen Die leaned back slightly, displaying a posture of resistance.

Wen Liang paused and didn’t continue.

He just held Chen Die’s hand and said softly: “I was a bastard.”

He had been angry and anxious at the time, experiencing fear for the first time in his life, afraid to imagine what might have happened if he had been a step late.

But as soon as those words left his mouth, he realized he was wrong.

Since bringing Chen Die home at sixteen, although Wen Liang had always had a bad temper, he had indeed never spoken harshly to her.

From the beginning, Wen Liang had spoiled her.

After that day, he kept thinking about what he had said to Chen Die. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like a bastard. No matter how wrong it was, the blame should have been put on Qu Fang’s head, but instead, he had said those things to Chen Die without asking about the cause and effect.

“Lingling,” he called her softly.

Chen Die frowned, muttering: “Don’t call me that.”

“Get in the car with me first. I’ll take you home.”

Chen Die suddenly realized they were on a main road. Although there were no pedestrians at the roadside now, they could be seen by others at any time.

“No need,” she said, head down. “I’ll take a taxi back.”

Wen Liang: “It’s not safe for you to take a taxi back now.”

“…I don’t think riding in your car is safe either.”

Wen Liang paused, then compromised: “Let Zhu Qicong drive you back. I’ll take a taxi.”

“…”

Chen Die wanted to refuse, but suddenly a group of people emerged at the intersection, so she got into the car.

When she returned home in the evening, not half an hour later, the video of her and Wen Liang on the street once again made the top news headlines.

Judging by the angle, it was taken by a customer at the tea restaurant through the window glass.

Chen Die once again truly felt that she was famous—her every word and action was completely under public scrutiny.

“This is too cool!!!!”

“Mr. Wen tried to hug Die again but failed 2.0, but he managed to hold her hand!!”

“No!! Our Die Mei is still young; promise Mom she’ll focus on her career before becoming a rich man’s wife??”

“Ah, I’ve actually been following the tortured romance between the big CEO and the mortal beauty through leaked videos.”

“This is such good shipping material—here’s a pen for all you scriptwriters. I want to see this!!”

…

Chen Die didn’t understand what about her and Wen Liang attracted people to ship them as a couple. These days, the topic’s popularity far exceeded the Hairpin Flower CP, and there were even fans who had specifically created a Wen Die CP super topic.

The keyword describing their CP was “tortured romance.”

Half a month later, the “Three Meals a Day” that Chen Die had signed up for began filming.

The original lineup was three men and two women, but just before filming, the other woman had some issues and had to cancel, so it became Chen Die with three male celebrities.

Chen Die was the youngest, and the three male celebrities were all a few years older than her.

One was called Ran Liming, also an actor who often participated in variety shows and was very popular with the public.

Li Zong and Lin Qingye were singers.

The first destination was set abroad.

Filming began with everyone pushing their luggage out of the airport, then getting into cars and arriving at the filming location one after another.

The production team had built a wooden cabin there as a filming set.

After everyone met and got their makeup and hair done, they began recording.

Although everyone already knew the recording rules, they still had to draw task cards in front of the camera and reintroduce the game rules of “Three Meals a Day” to everyone.

While “Three Meals a Day” was a slow-paced lifestyle variety show, it wasn’t that simple. Games determined cooking, eating, and sleeping arrangements.

They had arrived in the evening, so there weren’t many tasks on the first day. After everyone ate dinner together, it was time for the bed competition.

The production team provided three rooms of varying quality, and the person who came in last in the game would have to set up a tent and sleep outdoors.

The game was simple: the production team would request songs with specific requirements—lyrics had to include animals. They would take turns singing the required lyrics, and whoever got stuck would be eliminated.

Ironically, two of the four were singers.

Chen Die suspected the production team did this on purpose.

Lin Qingye heard this and lazily raised an eyebrow: “Fine.”

Fortunately, Chen Die had a good repertoire of lyrics. The four of them went through several rounds without stumbling, but then the pace gradually slowed down.

Chen Die finished the last lyrics she had in reserve.

Ran Liming and Li Zong also finished, and it was Lin Qingye’s turn.

Chen Die glanced at his expression, delighted—if he was eliminated, he would have to sleep in the tent. As for the three indoor bedrooms, Chen Die didn’t mind any of them.

After three seconds, the production team began counting down, and Lin Qingye unhurriedly sang another song.

The melody was beautiful, and his voice was extremely pleasant, but the lyrics were somewhat ambiguous, and… what the hell song was this?

“What song is that?” Li Zong asked before she could.

“My new song, just thought of it.” Lin Qingye turned his head toward the camera, completely shameless. “Taking advantage of the show to give a preview.”

Chen Die: “???”

Thus, Chen Die was the first to be eliminated, as expected.

Lin Qingye clearly thought the same as her. When it was his turn again, he raised his hand and passed, securing the third bedroom. Satisfied, he stood up.

…That was really not cool.

Two minutes later, the game ended with Li Zong in first place and Ran Liming second.

Who came first or second no longer mattered to Chen Die; she went out in despair to set up the tent by herself.

But could someone tell her how to set this thing up? Chen Die was very poor with hands-on skills, not to mention the tent didn’t even come with instructions.

Soon, Li Zong and Ran Liming also came out.

Ran Liming: “Why don’t we switch? You can sleep in my room.”

Li Zong said the same.

Chen Die waved her hand: “No need, it’s fine. You go ahead and wash up first.”

Ran Liming and Li Zong helped her set up the tent in some semblance of shape before going inside, but after a while, Chen Die discovered that the length of the front supports was wrong, so she had to dismantle it and start over.

“…”

In the dead of winter, why on earth was she setting up a tent here?

Chen Die’s fingers were stiff with cold. She threw the supports on the ground, rubbed her hands together and blew on them, when someone came to her side.

He bent down and picked up the supports she had just thrown away.

The man’s profile was handsome, identical to Wen Liang’s.

Chen Die was stunned. She looked back at the filming cameras around her, and even her follow-up cameraman had quietly turned off his camera.

“Why are you here?” Chen Die moved closer to ask.

“Business trip. Just finished work today and came to see you.” Wen Liang said, “I’m the investor for this project.”

“…”

Why hadn’t anyone told her when she signed the contract?

Chen Die didn’t know what to say for a moment, and the cameramen had all very conscientiously walked away—such a lack of professional spirit in digging up material for the broadcast.

She just stood there, her gaze fixed on Wen Liang as he threaded the tent fabric with the supports, his movements methodical.

Chen Die was somewhat surprised and asked: “You know how to set up a tent?”

“It’s not difficult.”

“…Oh.”

Wen Liang handed one corner to Chen Die for her to hold, looked down at her, and added: “I’ve done it before in military camp.”

Chen Die was taken aback.

Her hands were indeed very cold, so she tucked her sleeves around the support that Wen Liang had given her to hold, contentedly watching as Wen Liang set up the tent for her.

If it were someone else helping her like this, Chen Die would definitely not feel comfortable just standing there.

Thinking about it, she had always been quite accustomed to accepting Wen Liang’s kindness.

Wen Liang quickly finished setting up the tent—neat and square, much prettier than the previous half-finished product.

Chen Die went to get the blankets and bedding from the production team, kneeling at the edge of the tent and carefully arranging them inside.

Wen Liang stood beside her, no longer helping, but instead looking down at her. Chen Die had a good figure, not skinny but with curves in all the right places. Her sweater tightly outlined her shape, cinched at the waist.

Wen Liang’s eyes darkened slightly.

After so long, he was indeed somewhat frustrated.

Chen Die didn’t know that the person behind her had a head full of inappropriate thoughts. She stretched her legs to finish spreading the bedding into every corner of the tent before crawling back out.

Wen Liang looked inside the tent and frowned: “Just these few blankets?”

Chen Die shrugged: “I lost the game.”

Those blankets might be a bit cold at night, but it wouldn’t be too bad and would create good variety show content. Chen Die didn’t think it inappropriate.

Wen Liang frowned: “You’ll catch a cold. Come sleep in the RV with me.”

Chen Die looked up: “Sleep, with you?”

Wen Liang didn’t speak.

“They’re still filming here. You’re the investor—aren’t you going to let them make the show?” Chen Die said flatly.

In the end, Chen Die didn’t agree to sleep in the RV. After Wen Liang left, the director brought a GoPro over and set it up inside the tent.

“When you’re ready to undress and sleep, you can turn off the GoPro. If you feel cold, let us know, and we’ll bring you more blankets,” the director said.

With all the commotion online about her and Wen Liang, and with Wen Liang personally appearing on the first day of filming, everyone naturally didn’t dare to offend the financial backer.

After thanking them, Chen Die washed up and entered the tent.

She crawled under the blankets, and Fang Ruan sent her a picture.

It was about Wang Yunxi. These days, her incident had escalated. Later, the blogger who had exposed her “four crimes” also revealed the IP address of the original culprit who had framed Chen Die, using a lot of data to prove it was Wang Yunxi.

Netizens couldn’t really understand all that data, but this method of verification was enough to prove that everything was indeed Wang Yunxi’s doing.

Chen Die’s fans and curious onlookers rose in rebellion, digging up a lot of dirt on Wang Yunxi one after another.

The focus finally settled on the vote rigging in the original talent show.

At this point, Wang Yunxi’s management company had just issued a statement saying they had terminated her contract.

Chen Die was lowering her head to read the text in the statement when suddenly the tent was pulled open from outside, and Wen Liang bent down to enter.

Chen Die was so startled that she dropped her phone, her first reaction being to immediately turn off the nearby GoPro.

Wen Liang picked up her phone, glanced at the content on it, and smiled faintly.

“Are you crazy! What are you doing in here!?” Chen Die exclaimed softly.

Wen Liang made a shushing sound, sat down beside her, and said quietly: “There’s no one around.”

“…”

As if he wouldn’t dare come in if there were people outside.

In this atmosphere, Chen Die strangely felt like they were having an affair.

Wen Liang returned the phone to her and suddenly said: “Are you happy?”

“What?”

Wen Liang nodded toward the phone.

Chen Die naturally knew whose handiwork the subsequent series of events was, but she suddenly remembered what Fang Ruan had said—that taking pleasure in someone else’s misfortune indeed didn’t seem kind enough.

So she said kindly: “It’s okay, I guess. Wang Yunxi is actually quite pitiful.”

Wen Liang sat to the side, looking at her with a knowing expression, smirking: “Don’t I know what kind of person you are?”

“…” Chen Die decided not to pretend anymore. After all, the GoPro was already off. She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m happy. Satisfied?”

Wen Liang smiled.

He wouldn’t think that Chen Die taking pleasure in someone’s misfortune made her unkind. He had always been self-centered, not caring about others’ feelings, only thinking about how to make his little girl happy.

Wen Liang leaned back, shifting to a more comfortable sitting position, looking at Chen Die: “Then smile for me to see.”

“I won’t smile.”

After she said this, Wen Liang suddenly leaned forward. Chen Die immediately backed away, but he caught her by the waist and pulled her back, then used two fingers to push up the corners of her mouth, forcibly making her smile.

Chen Die raised her hand to swat his away, but before she could speak, she heard Wen Liang call her name.

“Chen Die.”

His voice was magnetic, with a hint of nasal tone, like the howling wind outside the tent.

Chen Die looked up, seeing Wen Liang up close.

The man’s eyes were pitch black now, with many more emotions hidden within. Chen Die opened her mouth but couldn’t speak.

His gaze slowly moved downward, landing on her lips. Chen Die understood that look and knew it meant trouble. She only wanted to quickly escape from his grasp.

But the next second, he kissed her.

The kiss landed gently on Chen Die’s lips, so tender that she was momentarily dazed.

He pinched Chen Die’s chin, lifting it up. The kiss was gentle, but his actions still carried an undeniable possessiveness and aggression. He traced Chen Die’s lip line, gently kissing and licking.

His breathing gradually became rapid, and his kisses were no longer so gentle. He bit her lip, tugging it lightly.

After a while, he firmly pinched Chen Die’s chin again and said hoarsely: “Open your mouth.”

Three words.

Chen Die came to her senses.

This man was too dangerous—even a kiss was like a frog slowly being boiled in water.

Gently caressing until she lowered her guard, then attacking and conquering.

Chen Die pulled her hand from his grip and pushed him.

It didn’t work.

So she simply grabbed his hair, pulling it back hard.

Wen Liang had one arm around her waist; with the other hand, he pried her fingers away, then dragged her by the thigh and threw her onto the bedding.

Chen Die didn’t know why, but they always seemed to turn the atmosphere into something like a wrestling match.

He leaned over her, pressed against her, kissed her again, and finally bit her chin in frustration before lying on top of her, saying hoarsely: “You really won’t be satisfied until you torment me to death.”