As soon as the live stream ended, before I could even catch my breath, I saw a man who seemed to be the "leader" among the crew outside the camera frame walking toward me. I heard everyone calling him Mr. King.
Mr. King took off his metal-framed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Nan Zhi, what did we train you for before? How to speak during a live stream, what topics to avoid—did you forget all of it?"
I stayed silent, so he continued, "Apart from your looks, you're utterly useless. You're just lucky to be born in this era where faces dictate morals. Without your looks, you'd be nothing."
Wait, was that an insult? But for some reason, it sounded almost laughable. Maybe it's because I've never been a beauty before—do actual beauties really get upset over comments like this?
Mr. King snorted coldly, putting his glasses back on as if tucking away his emotions along with them. "Candy, make sure she watches how others do their live streams later. She can go live again once she's learned."
I rolled my eyes internally—today was my first time live-streaming; how was I supposed to know the rules?
Besides, I couldn't help but agree with the comments calling out the company for exploitation. I had just been discharged from the hospital, and they were already pushing me in front of the camera, treating my "life-and-death news" as a chance to chase clout. The netizens were absolutely right—this was the work of heartless capitalists!
When I stepped out of the live-streaming room, sunlight streamed through the glass—it was already noon. Candy and I walked side by side toward the second-floor cafeteria. I had to admit, Xingyue Entertainment must have been raking in serious cash because the cafeteria food was actually pretty good. After eating my fill, I grabbed an iced Americano to take home.
Just as I left the cafeteria and turned the corner to head home, my footsteps suddenly froze.
That face—I'd recognize it even if I were reduced to ashes.
It was her! Qingqian Baby.
Today, she was wearing a white knit sweater that barely revealed her slender waistline, her face adorned with a carefully crafted "sweet smile," making her look like an innocent, harmless girl. But in my memory, that same smiling face had once been smug and arrogant, standing by my scumbag ex-husband's side at my hospital bed—the very image of a homewrecker.
"It's you?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
She froze for a split second before her smile instantly shifted into another mode.
"Oh my, Sister Nan Zhi—" She hurried over, her eyes full of flattery. "Long time no see! You've gotten even more beautiful."
I was almost nauseated by her act. In my past life, she had been nothing but arrogant in front of me, her eyes brimming with the pride of a victor, as if my suffering was her greatest trophy.
It suddenly hit me—she was also an internet celebrity, wasn't she? Just with a pitifully small following, probably not even a fraction of the original Nanzhi's fan count.
She kept calling me "Sister," her demeanor obsequious to the extreme, while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes gleaming with calculation.
"Sister Nanzhi, how about we do a collab stream in a few days? I've got a cosplay-themed live coming up—you could join in for fun."
I smirked inwardly—she was clearly trying to ride on the original Nanzhi's clout. The corner of my lips curled slightly as I replied, "Oh, sure. Let's collab when I'm free."
She clearly hadn't expected me to agree. Her eyes lit up instantly, like a lottery winner who'd just hit the jackpot, and she quickly added,
"Really? Thank you, Sister! Oh my, I'm so honored." She giggled uncontrollably, her voice dripping with excitement.
Watching her barely contained glee, I figured a top-tier influencer with millions of followers like the original Nanzhi would never usually give her the time of day. Right now, she was probably already fantasizing about her follower count skyrocketing after the collab.
But we had plenty of time—no need to rush.
I didn't say anything more and turned to follow Candy toward the elevator. Just as we rounded the corner, the elevator doors dinged open. Distracted, I nearly collided head-on with a man stepping out.
I instinctively stepped back, but half of my iced Americano splashed out, staining his shirt.
"Ah, I'm so sorry—" I reflexively reached out to brush it off, but before I could even touch him, a pair of slender yet strong hands gripped my wrist.
The man's voice was deep, laced with a chill. "Don't move."
Only then did I look up—
He was tall. Up close, his features were sharp, as if carved by a blade—high cheekbones, deep-set dark eyes, exuding an undeniable aura of dominance. Even just standing there, he looked like a painting of icy elegance.
My heart skipped a beat—this presence was anything but ordinary.
He glanced down at me, his gaze flickering imperceptibly, as if assessing me.
Candy whispered nervously beside me, "Mr. Fang, she didn't mean to."
Mr. Fang?
My mind raced—was this Fang Yichen, the CEO of Xingyue Entertainment?
"I'm sorry, I—" I started to apologize, but he cut me off coolly, "Watch your step next time."
With that, he turned to leave.
Without thinking, I blurted out, "Let me buy you a new one!"