Chapter 58

Every Day the Villain Continues to Fail 

[Quick Transmigration] 

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o0o

"No way, I don’t agree!"

A woman's sharp voice rang out in the conference room. "You know exactly what kind of person he is. With all the solid black marks on his record, having Pei Xinan shoot a magazine spread with him will only ruin his public image! It might even shake the foundation of his fanbase!"

"Ah, you’re being too biased," another voice chimed in—a middle-aged man, speaking slowly but refusing to back down.

"After all, this is one of the Big Three fashion magazines. And it's a special invitation from the magazine itself. No matter how you look at it, it’s a testament to our Xiao Pei’s status. If we refuse, it’ll affect the reputation of all K Agency artists."

A man wearing brown-tinted sunglasses sat with his hands folded, speaking lazily, "I’m telling you, you’re being way too cautious. In this industry, having both fans and haters is normal. Controversy brings attention."

That was utterly shameless.

"You!" Qin Shuang’s fingers, painted a bold red, clenched into a fist, clearly seething.

She was about to say more when Pei Xinan happened to push open the door.

Earphones from the recording studio were still hanging around his neck. After pulling an all-nighter recording, his lower eyelids had taken on a faint blue tint, making his already cold aura even more intimidating. 

"What are you all arguing about? Who am I supposed to shoot a magazine with?"

Qin Shuang arched a perfectly drawn brow, signaling for the man to answer.

Faced with the company’s golden goose, the man’s tone turned noticeably more accommodating. 

"Ahem, well, it’s like this—Gray Blue has invited you to shoot the cover of their next issue. Since it’s a rare opportunity, we went ahead and accepted on your behalf."

"However… they’ve specifically requested another artist to shoot with you."

Qin Shuang took over. "You might not know this person very well, YM Entertainment’s Ruan Yao."

A layer of frost settled even heavier over Pei Xinan’s elegant features.

Qin Shuang assumed he was displeased about having to share a cover with some unknown, bottom-tier celebrity. Feeling smug, she cast a sideways glance at the PR director. "If you don’t want to..."

"I’ll do it."

"W-what?" Qin Shuang’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Pei Xinan thought back to the information he had spent half the night reviewing.

In a grainy video, the boy’s face had been breathtaking, like a rose in full bloom, an almost mesmerizing kind of beauty.

It was the first time someone had made him set his music aside, leaving him so captivated that he spent the entire night just watching video clips.

How... interesting.

With just a single sentence, he locked in his schedule. "Confirm the shoot date with them."

o0o

Meanwhile, over at YM Entertainment, the crisp click-clack of heels echoed down the hallway.

Well-dressed, screen-ready men and women passed by in twos and threes, but nearly all of them unconsciously slowed their steps when they approached a certain recording room.

Their gazes flickered discreetly toward the tightly shut door.

There was nothing particularly special about the door, just a plain white sheet of paper taped to it, bearing two sharp, black characters: Ruan Yao.

"They agreed." A man ended his call with K Agency’s PR director, a mocking smile appearing on his refined, scholarly face. "I honestly thought, with all your scandals, they’d want to stay as far away from you as possible."

Ruan Yao rested his cheek against his hand, his legs swinging idly over the high stool. "An invitation from Gray Blue… sounds pretty valuable, doesn’t it?"

In the world of fashion magazines, being invited to shoot a cover for a top-tier publication was the kind of achievement that would have most artists trending for three days straight.

And this was the prestigious September issue, the launch of fashion season.

Yang Fei curved his lips, though his eyes remained devoid of warmth. "What did you trade for it this time?"

Ruan Yao was wearing knee-length shorts today. His pale, slender legs were exposed beneath the wide fabric, and there was a faint peach-pink hue over his knees.

It made one want to reach out, to grab those delicate kneecaps and toy with them, press them into their palm until that soft pink spread across his entire body.

His round, deer-like eyes held a trace of sharp wariness. "What’s it to you?"

Yang Fei stood, pressing both hands down on Ruan Yao’s too-thin shoulders. "It’s none of my business, but you better make sure that when you show up for the shoot, your body is spotless. Not a single mark. Not one."

"This magazine is your only job this month. Every other appearance has been canceled. You’d better make the most of it."

The two of them were alone in the recording studio. The silence between them thickened, pressing down on Ruan Yao like an invisible weight. His breath hitched for just a second. Turning his face away in distaste, he muttered, "Got it."

Beneath his palms, the fragile bones of those thin shoulders seemed to burn with heat. Yang Fei glanced at the blue-haired boy, his expression darkening before his voice softened a little.

"You’ve got good instincts. Pei Xinan is the hottest singer in the industry right now. He’s young, and working with him will help clean up your... completely ruined public image."

Ruan Yao thought to himself: And who do you think ruined it in the first place?

But outwardly, he only nodded obediently, flashing a bright-eyed, smug little grin. "Of course my instincts are good."

"However..." Yang Fei’s tone flipped 180 degrees, turning stern again. "If you want to survive, don’t get too close to him. You know why."

"Be good. Don’t make him angry."

Ruan Yao sifted through his memories, trying to piece together the vague image of some suit-wearing psychopath. He couldn't quite recall the man’s face, but just the thought of him made him involuntarily shudder.

Yeah… definitely someone you didn’t want to piss off.

o0o

Pei Xinan lounged on the sofa, watching Ruan Yao’s past performances on a projector screen.

This person… was fascinating.

Like he’d said before, with a face like that, Ruan Yao should’ve been a superstar. And yet, no matter how many resources had been thrown his way, he remained frustratingly lukewarm. In fact, he seemed to have more haters than actual fans.

Pei Xinan opened Ruan Yao’s personal account, scrolling through the endless flood of comments.

"Ruan Yao, why don’t you just go die?"

"Ruan Yao, get the hell out of the entertainment industry!"

"You’re nothing but a cheap whore! Hurry up and crawl back to your sugar daddy, hahaha!"

Even as someone who had come up from the underground rock scene, Pei Xinan frowned at the sheer volume of insults.

Patiently, he clicked through the latest post’s top 1,000 comments. Most were just mindless abuse. Only a handful were from genuine fans, cautiously leaving messages like:

"Yao Yao, looking forward to your new song!"

"Just be yourself, Yao Yao!"

"No matter what, I’ll always love you!"

Pei Xinan, curious, checked out the profiles of some of Ruan Yao’s devoted fans. He was surprised to find they had been following him since his debut, his ability to hold onto fans was actually pretty impressive.

Then he clicked on a few of the more active haters’ profiles.

Aside from a handful of die-hard antis, a suspiciously large number were paid bots.

Someone was actually spending money to smear an unknown, bottom-tier artist like Ruan Yao?

A massive mystery wrapped around Ruan Yao like a thick fog, sealing him in completely. Unraveling it would come at a steep price.

Pei Xinan bit down on his straw, eyes gleaming with a long-lost excitement. It had been ages since he had come across something this challenging.

No matter what, he had to figure out exactly what kind of secret Ruan Yao was hiding.

Maybe even Ruan Yao himself didn't know. A single sentence, a casual smile, had already ensnared the protagonist's intense interest.

Two years ago, Ruan Yao had debuted through a talent show. Right from the start, he skyrocketed in popularity, maintaining a strong momentum all the way through.

Yet somehow, in the final episode, he ended up just one spot below the debut line, missing his chance at stardom by a hair.

Pei Xinan had never been fond of loud, over-the-top variety shows. Now, there was barely a trace left of the uproar his fans had once caused.

All he could find was what happened on the night of the finale. Just as Ruan Yao was set to debut, a flood of scandals suddenly swept in, snuffing out his rising career.

The so-called scandals claimed Ruan Yao had been kept by a wealthy backer, accompanied by a few blurry photos and a string of vague, speculative theories.

There was hardly any footage of him left either.

After digging through endless archives, Pei Xinan only managed to unearth a handful of clips from the talent show, barely adding up to thirty minutes.

It felt as if someone had deliberately erased all traces of Ruan Yao, a twisted, terrifying sense of possession lurking beneath it all, even through the screen.

Dealing with someone like that would be troublesome.

A warning blared in Pei Xinan's mind, he was poking at something best left alone. He should call Qin Shuang right now and cancel the shoot with Ruan Yao. But a shiver of heat rushed through his veins, setting his pulse thrumming.

Teenagers could never resist a challenge. And under the moonlight, that little ripple of blue hair felt like an ocean, one he was all too willing to drown in.

"Ruan Yao..." Pei Xinan murmured, crouching on the sofa, his voice a whisper in the dark. The only light came from the faint blue glow of the projector, casting silvery traces over his hair. Curled up in the shadows, he let out a low, almost delirious chuckle.

o0o

A shiver crept up Ruan Yao's spine.

He chalked it up to the air conditioning, fumbling through the pile of sheet music on the coffee table until he found the remote and turned up the temperature.

Right at that moment, someone knocked on the recording studio door.

Ruan Yao assumed it was Yang Fei. Without looking up from his score, he simply said, "Come in."

The man who stepped in, however, wasn't the usual sharp-tongued producer. Instead, it was a towering figure clad in a black suit, his bald head marked with a vicious-looking scorpion tattoo.

He looked like a villain straight out of a Western action film, the type who could knock Ruan Yao out with a single punch.

The blue-haired boy instinctively shrank back, eyes widening. "Who are you?"

The man stood stiffly, hands clasped behind his back, his voice gruff. "President Sheng requests your presence in the car."

Ruan Yao froze.

Sheng Yirong, that was the name of the ultimate antagonist, the man who desired the protagonist but could never have him.

The tyrannical mogul who ruled over half the entertainment industry. The one who spiraled into madness, kidnapping the protagonist and subjecting him to all sorts of unspeakable things.

The system chimed in helpfully: "Technically, Sheng Yirong is the main love interest. But since he dies in the end, we'll just call him the villain."

"He's also your current financial backer."

Ruan Yao scratched his head, unable to understand how a tragic demise and being stripped of his lead status were connected.

All he knew was that this man was bad news. Just hearing the name sent his body trembling on instinct.

"Let me pack up my things first." His voice was soft, his pale face drained of color, though a lingering flush touched the corners of his eyes.

The bald man didn't budge. "President Sheng ordered me to stay with you."

Ruan Yao pressed a hand to his forehead. This was going to be a problem.

The YM building stood tall in the heart of the city, always bustling with people. Luxury cars coming and going were a common sight, especially with celebrities passing through. But today, something was different.

Every person in the entertainment industry who saw this particular vehicle immediately thought of one name, Sheng Yirong.

A man whose mere presence could send tremors through the entire industry.

Many passing small-time artists instinctively stepped away upon seeing the car, afraid of getting in the way of someone they couldn’t afford to offend. Their eyes, filled with jealousy and resentment, turned towards the window at the far end of the fourth floor.

That was Ruan Yao’s recording studio.

He rarely came to the company, and even when he did, he spent all his time locked inside, recording songs.

When Ruan Yao stepped out wearing a mask and a fisherman’s hat, everyone’s gazes instantly fell on the slender and delicate-looking young man.

A small tuft of soft blue hair peeked out from under the wide brim of his hat, making the pale skin on the back of his neck look as white as freshly fallen snow.

Even in an entertainment industry filled with fair-skinned people, it was rare to see someone with such pure, icy-white skin. Just a small glimpse of it was enough to make others' eyes burn with envy.

Ruan Yao noticed all the eyes on him and quietly grumbled to System in his mind, “It’s gotta be this bald guy’s fault. He’s way too eye-catching, making everyone stare at us.”

The system replied, “Or maybe they think you owe him money from a loan shark, and he’s dragging you away to get your fingers chopped off.”

That’s even scarier.

The tiny figure in his consciousness stood with hands on hips, puffing up in indignation. “Do I look like that kind of person?”

The bald man looked fierce, but his service was surprisingly considerate. When Ruan Yao reached the car, the man even raised his hand to shield the top of the door, making sure he wouldn’t hit his head.

Ruan Yao tugged at the hem of his T-shirt and softly murmured, “Thank you, Da-ge.”

The man, whose skin was already dark, seemed to turn a shade darker, almost as if there was a hint of red.

The moment Ruan Yao got into the car, he bumped straight into a sharp-looking man in a tailored suit.

He hadn’t noticed someone sitting in the backseat. Before he could react, his entire body tumbled right into the man’s warm embrace.

The man had been checking messages on his phone, but the sudden arrival of a soft, fragrant beauty made him pause. Cool strands of hair brushed against his neck, sending a tingling sensation all the way to his heart.

Without thinking, he caught Ruan Yao in his arms, holding him there. The important messages on his phone no longer mattered; he casually locked the screen and set it aside.

“You’ve gained a little weight recently.”

The so-called villainous Big Boss wasn’t as terrifying as the rumors suggested, nor did he reek of sleaze like the typical sugar daddy. Instead, he was impeccably clean, with a strikingly androgynous face.

He looked almost too young. If it weren’t for the high-end bespoke suit that Ruan Yao couldn’t afford even if he sold himself, he would’ve seemed like a shy, good-looking university student.

It was a world of difference from the ruthless tyrant everyone feared.

For a moment, Ruan Yao was too stunned to react. He stared blankly at Sheng Yirong’s face.

His hat and mask had already been removed by Sheng Yirong, exposing those light amber eyes filled with innocent confusion. His soft, rosy lips parted slightly, like a flower on the verge of blooming.

A single finger pressed against the plush lips. The touch was like fresh, warm mochi—soft and yielding, sinking slightly under pressure.

Sheng Yirong’s eyes curved with a smile, but his movements were rough. His fingers kneaded Ruan Yao’s lips, rubbing them until the pale pink flesh was glistening and swollen with color.

His calloused fingertips pressed deeper, slipping between Ruan Yao’s lips and pinching his tongue.

By the time Ruan Yao snapped back to his senses, his mouth was already aching from the abuse. His light-colored eyes shimmered with unshed tears, long lashes trembling as if he were a butterfly caught in a hunter’s grasp.

It hurt.

He couldn’t help but tremble from the pain, the corners of his eyes stained with a deep, decadent red. His delicate, pale fingers shakily grasped the man’s wrist.

Right then, the system just had to pop up with a reminder:

“To maintain the persona, the host absolutely cannot refuse any of Sheng Yirong’s requests while being kept as his lover!”

What a load of crap.

Never trust appearances. Someone who seemed easygoing on the surface could be completely rotten inside.

Ruan Yao’s lashes fluttered, catching a crystal-clear teardrop at the tip. It clung there, wavering between falling and holding on.

Sheng Yirong seemed to have a particular interest in his mouth. With his tongue restrained, Ruan Yao couldn’t stop the saliva from spilling over, trickling down the corners of his lips.

His lips glistened, looking almost sinfully enticing.

A quiet chuckle slipped from the man’s throat. The way Ruan Yao glared at him with murder in his eyes only made him more pleased.

Just when it seemed like he was about to make Ruan Yao cry, he finally withdrew his fingers.

Ruan Yao whimpered softly in protest, shutting his lips tight to keep himself from drooling even more. But it was too late; his shirt was already stained, a damp patch spreading across the thin fabric.

Late August was still sweltering, and with such a lightweight shirt, the moisture made the fabric cling to his skin, revealing the soft white flesh underneath.

What the hell is wrong with this guy?!

Flushed with anger and embarrassment, Ruan Yao’s cheeks burned red.

No wonder he’s the main villain. Serves him right for getting wrecked in the end!

The man, however, wasn’t finished. One arm remained firmly wrapped around Ruan Yao’s waist, keeping him trapped in his embrace, while the other lifted the fingers still slick with Ruan Yao’s saliva.

“Be good, Yao Yao,” the man murmured in a deep, velvety voice, bringing his fingers close. “Lick it clean yourself.”

Ruan Yao froze, wide-eyed, his soft voice tinged with desperation. “There are people in the front… don’t…”

Sheng Yirong’s gaze was locked onto his face, an expression of amused anticipation playing on his lips. He wanted to see him squirm even more, wanted to see those unshed tears finally fall, soaking through his clothes.

“Yao Yao disappeared for so many days,” Sheng Yirong mused, a sinister smile appearing on that deceptively innocent-looking face. “And now you’ve learned how to say ‘no’?”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against the delicate curve of Ruan Yao’s ear, his whisper like a dark promise:

“If you don’t clean it now, don’t blame me for what happens later.”

“Crying won’t help.”

Damn it. He wanted to run.

Ruan Yao stiffened all over, his wide, teary eyes staring helplessly into the man’s deep black gaze, pleading for mercy.

Sheng Yirong simply chuckled. “Don’t look at me like that, Yao Yao. You know it’s useless.”

A single tear finally slipped down Ruan Yao’s cheek, soaking into his already damp collar.

He was trembling, his flushed eyes rimmed with red, but in the end, his tiny, quivering tongue hesitantly darted out, lapping at the man’s calloused fingertips like a helpless little lamb.

The stark contrast between his soft pink tongue and the man’s broad, rough fingers was overwhelming, sending a shiver of pleasure through Sheng Yirong’s body.

The light in Ruan Yao’s amber eyes dimmed, filled only with humiliation and grievance.

“That’s enough.”

His long lashes were soaked with tears, drooping miserably. He refused to look at the man anymore.

Unbearable humiliation. Ruan Yao was bullied to tears.

Serves this bastard right for getting wrecked in the end!

What a goddamn scumbag!

o0o

"Why did you film this? Why did you choose him?" Sheng Yirong held Ruan Yao tightly in his arms, as if he could completely possess him. The feeling of control brought him an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.

As expected, as long as Ruan Yao stayed by his side, that was enough.

He didn't need to be famous. He didn't need disgusting outsiders coveting him. From head to toe, Ruan Yao should belong to him alone.

The system had warned him never to refuse any of Sheng Yirong’s demands. Even though he wanted to beat the man to a pulp, in the end, he could only sniffle and say, "I need a partner. He fits—his style, and..."

He had finally learned how to be obedient after all the torment. Like a kitten, he leaned against the man’s chest, his breath feather-light as it brushed past his ear. "And the way he hates me."

That was what Sheng Yirong truly wanted to hear.

Although he believed that anyone who laid eyes on Ruan Yao would inevitably awaken their most depraved desires, at least finding someone with a sliver of self-control meant Ruan Yao was still listening to him.

Pleased, the man pressed a gentle kiss to Ruan Yao’s brow. "Then have fun."

Inside his mind, Ruan Yao dramatically gagged and made a retching sound.

The system, ever so perceptive, immediately handed him a cup of mouthwash.

He nearly rinsed his soul away.

By the time Pei Xinan arrived at the studio, Ruan Yao had already finished hair and makeup.

Since Sheng Yirong had given specific instructions, the stylists and photographers tread carefully, terrified of displeasing him. Every detail of his styling had been meticulously crafted.

The head stylist, a renowned figure in the industry, typically looked down on people who relied on wealthy backers to climb the ranks. It didn’t matter if they were kept by Sheng Yirong.

Disgusting.

Besides, Ruan Yao’s reputation was a mess. The constant rumors and malicious slander had nearly erased him from the entertainment industry altogether.

Yet, the moment she saw him in person, every preconception shattered.

The stylist, a fashion legend well past fifty, looked as if she had just discovered her ultimate muse. She circled Ruan Yao for what felt like forever, scrutinizing him with such intensity that a blush crept onto his face.

"Uh... Ms. Zhu, you..."

Ruan Yao started to wonder if he had fallen so far that even a stylist couldn’t salvage his look. Clutching his chest in despair, he whispered to the system, "Bro, have I lost touch with human fashion? Am I just too outdated now?"

The system glanced at the stylist, whose eyes gleamed like searchlights, and stammered, "I don’t think it's because you look bad... I think it's because you look too good."

The stylist immediately scrapped every outfit she had prepared, instructing her assistant to rush back and fetch her most treasured designs.

"These tacky pieces don’t deserve you."

Like a porcelain doll, Ruan Yao’s chin was lifted by her fingertips as she examined him from every possible angle, finally offering a satisfied smile.

She looked like a starving wolf that hadn’t seen fresh meat in eight hundred years.

When Pei Xinan pushed open the studio doors, Ruan Yao was already lounging on a beanbag chair, nibbling on a small cake his assistant had brought.

The assistant, a young man, gazed at Ruan Yao’s exquisitely painted face with pure admiration.

"Mr. Pei is here," an employee announced.

At the sound of his name, Ruan Yao instinctively looked up.

His gaze met Pei Xinan’s head-on.

"Beep... Detecting an increase in the protagonist shou's favorability by 10%. Host, please keep up the good work."

What? Even this can raise his favorability?

Ruan Yao was dressed in a lace gown, clearly meant for a woman. The scalloped neckline had no buttons, left wide open under the harsh studio lights. A thin ribbon cinched his impossibly slender waist. The skirt parted at the front, revealing long, pale legs. Near the soft curve of his thigh, a faint red mark stood out—likely from an accidental bump, but it looked disturbingly like a fingerprint.

An irrational, violent impulse stirred within Pei Xinan.

He wanted to grab Ruan Yao’s thigh, press down hard, and watch him squirm—see him sniffle and try to escape, only to realize he had nowhere to run.

At that moment, Pei Xinan understood.

Ruan Yao had an uncanny ability to bring out the darkest parts of a person’s soul.

He was like a walking aphrodisiac. No one could withstand such an extreme temptation and still hold onto their crumbling rationality.

Even from across the room, a single smile from him sent Pei Xinan’s heartbeat into a dizzying spiral.

Someone like this... should be hidden away.

Because Pei Xinan’s schedule was tight, the crew wasted no time. As soon as he finished hair and makeup, the shoot began.

Ruan Yao watched Pei Xinan step onto the set, then suddenly let out a soft laugh.

"Feels like a wedding."

Pei Xinan didn’t know where to put his hands and feet, his mind a whirl of confusion. After all, he was still an eighteen-year-old boy. Though he had seen and heard about matters of love and desire, he was still naïve.

But Ruan Yao had a kind of magic about him, a charm that made him feel like he was somehow learning all the wrong things by instinct.

Ruan Yao wasn’t wearing shoes and stepped barefoot onto the dark carpet, an action that somehow made everything feel more seductive.

There was a series of about ten photos.

Following the photographer’s direction, Ruan Yao wrapped his arms around Pei Xinan from behind, his pale arms brushing against the boy’s chest. The cool touch of his soft skin against his sensitive neck made him shiver, as if the sea siren herself had wrapped around him, pulling him closer to the brink of temptation. With just the slightest parting of his lips, that pure and innocent boy would fall into an endless abyss.

The most alluring and the most innocent.

Pei Xinan’s eyebrow piercings were removed, the tiny scars replaced by the marks of a broken mask, hinting at the collapse of the boy’s heart under the siren’s spell.

“Why me?” Their faces were so close, Pei Xinan’s whisper barely audible, but Ruan Yao could hear every word.

His doe-like eyes were round, sparkling with a thousand tiny stars, though Pei Xinan couldn’t see them. He could only feel the rush of an alluring breeze by his ear. “Because you saved me,” he said, his voice light.

“It’s not just that, is it?” His voice was cold, distant. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

Silence followed. Ruan Yao bit his lip, as if contemplating something. Then, suddenly, he smiled brightly, his joy almost infectious. “No, no... If I had to give a reason, it’s because…”

“I like you.”

Ding! “Detected an increase in protagonist's favorability by 10%, and a 10% increase in dislike.”

Wait, what? Confessing actually made his dislike rise? What kind of bizarre situation was this?

Pei Xinan had no idea how the photoshoot had finished. He had never experienced a moment like that before, his entire body enveloped in a strange, sugary sweetness. Even his usual “dead-face” expression softened slightly, a rare hint of warmth appearing on his features.

The shoot was finished efficiently. The photographer kept praising them. “You two are the perfect pair. I hope we can collaborate again in the future.”

Ruan Yao smiled shyly, thanking the photographer and the staff, looking nothing like the domineering figure described in the negative press articles.

Pei Xinan felt an unexplainable hope rise in him.

What if everything the tabloids said was a lie? Could it mean that he had no benefactor at all?

Maybe someone had framed him. Maybe he was innocent.

Ding! “Detected a 10% decrease in protagonist's dislike and a 20% increase in favorability.”

Ruan Yao was confused. This was the first time he’d heard the system report a decrease in dislike, and he felt unexpectedly moved.

He still couldn’t figure out what was going on in the rebellious mind of this eighteen-year-old, but he was happy to see the numbers go up.

When the shoot ended, Ruan Yao and Pei Xinan shared the same elevator. Both of their managers were downstairs waiting for them, so the elevator ride was rare time alone together.

Pei Xinan was 185 cm tall. From what Ruan Yao had read in his profile, he was only 177 cm, which meant he could see the soft, cute swirl of hair on the top of his head.

“You…”

Ruan Yao suddenly lifted his eyelashes, his light-colored eyes sparkling like waves. Pei Xinan’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt a strange sensation, like his pulse had paused.

After meeting Ruan Yao, his body seemed to be out of control.

“Is it true, everything they say about you?”

Ruan Yao’s seductive face froze for a moment, then a cold smile appeared. “What are you trying to say?”

Pei Xinan furrowed his brow, a strange sense of discomfort filling him. If it turned out to be slander, he’d make sure Ruan Yao got justice. He didn’t realize that, despite only meeting him a couple of times, he was already becoming quite affected by this stranger.

“Don’t misunderstand. I just want to know who’s behind the rumors about you being kept…” He muttered, awkwardly avoiding his gaze, trying to keep his pride intact.

Ruan Yao’s smile faded. In the tight space of the elevator, a heavy, oppressive air spread between them.

The numbers on the display slowly ticked down. Ruan Yao stepped forward, standing right in front of the elevator doors.

The numbers went from two to one.

Ruan Yao turned and glanced back at the rebellious boy, his gaze glittering like gold. Pei Xinan felt his heart heat up.

It was at that moment he realized that Ruan Yao wasn’t some naïve, innocent girl. He was a siren, seductive and deadly. Getting too close would lead to being swallowed whole.

“What if I told you that what they say is true?”

He didn’t look back as he spoke, his voice light as he waited for the elevator doors to open.

His words hit him like a thunderclap.

Pei Xinan’s hands and feet went numb.

He’d just casually admitted it, like it was nothing more than a trip to a café. Even in the dirty entertainment industry, he had never met someone so blatantly honest.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell people?” Pei Xinan asked, his voice barely audible, a desperate attempt to stop him.

The elevator doors were about to open, and if they did, he might never see him again.

Ruan Yao was calm. “Everyone already knows my business. Whether you say it or not, it doesn’t matter.” His tone was one of resignation, as if he had already given up on defending himself.

Pei Xinan wanted to say something more, but just then, the elevator doors opened.

It wasn’t their managers waiting outside.

Instead, a stranger stood there. The man was tall, with a muscular build, and seemed to tower over both of them. His presence was intimidating, and Ruan Yao and Pei Xinan together would probably still be no match for him.

“Your manager?” Ruan Yao glanced at Pei Xinan, assuming the man was there for him.

Pei Xinan had never seen this person. The man wore a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a face mask, looking oddly suspicious.

He barely managed to mutter a “no” before the man spoke up.

He lifted his gaze, removing his sunglasses, and his red-rimmed eyes, wild and tense, looked like they might snap at any moment.

“Yao Yao,” the man’s voice was hoarse. “I really like you.”

He grinned, but it was twisted. “Come die with me, okay?”

o0o

Author's note: Reflecting on it, rushing for word count is not a good idea. Even with the words, the quality doesn’t match. Ultimately, it’s because I’m still too inexperienced. (typing while my fingers cramp)

Chapter 57

Chapter 59