It wasn’t just a passing whim; Xu Mengzhou genuinely wanted to start her own company.
Her family had made their fortune in the food and beverage industry. From humble beginnings selling a single packet of instant noodles, they grew into a giant whose instant meals and bottled water dominated half the supermarket shelves nationwide. You could safely say that almost every person in the country had grown up on their products.
The Xu brand was a household name.
When it came to the traditional family business, Mengzhou had zero desire to meddle. She was perfectly content to let her eldest sister do all the heavy lifting while she sat back and collected dividend checks.
An entertainment company, however, operated on a completely different business model. The industry dynamics and competitive landscape were entirely distinct.
For a venture like that, she could simply hire a professional manager to run the day-to-day operations. Her own job would just be acting in movies and dramas…essentially working for herself…and scouting talent along the way.
Besides, who was better suited to pick out talent in the entertainment industry than her?
Just look at her current set: there was a veteran actor caught up in a scandal who was right on the verge of terminating their contract with their agency.
If she had a company of her own, wouldn’t her sphere of influence expand significantly?
Every time she walked into the office, a crowd of employees would bow respectfully, greet her, and take her orders.
It would be a massive enterprise with hundreds of people under her command!
The more Mengzhou thought about it, the more brilliant the idea seemed. She immediately told Xiao Yang to prepare the necessary paperwork and pick an auspicious day to register the business.
She urged her assistant repeatedly, her voice fluttering like a cuckoo perched on a high tree branch in early morning…endless and immensely distracting.
What’s more, she had a loud voice, as if a small megaspeaker were tucked inside her throat, broadcasting noise without a shred of fatigue.
Xiao Yang, completely unbazed, asked, “Boss, starting a company is a huge deal. Shouldn’t you ask the Madam first?”
Mengzhou’s throat suddenly tightened, as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head.
The loud noise cut off instantly, and Mengzhou lashed out in embarrassment, “I’m the one who pays your salary, not my mom! Did she hire you to be a spy?”
“Boss, you wrong me!” Xiao Yang defended herself. “The Madam definitely knows the right professional managers for this. I just thought that asking her to introduce someone would save us a ton of hassle.”
That was actually true.
Mengzhou’s expression softened quite a bit.
Then she heard Xiao Yang add, “Besides… the Madam does pay me too. She gives me a meal allowance.”
“Get out of here!”
Mengzhou didn’t bother arguing with Xiao Yang any further, though she accepted the suggestion and called Ms. Xu to lay out her plan.
On the other end of the line, Ms. Xu seemed to be hanging out with her friends. Upon hearing her daughter’s pitch, instead of answering right away, she laughed aloud to the people around her. “I thought once my daughter grew up, she’d stop asking for money. Who knew she’d regress? The older she gets, the more she asks for.”
A group of wealthy socialites burst into laughter together. A few offered compliments, saying the child was ambitious, driven, and ought to be encouraged.
Mengzhou held up her phone, her reflection on the screen revealing an overly brazen face…utterly self-righteous, without even a fraction of awkwardness.
Looking closely, her face practically had four words stamped on it: It’s only right!
“Mom, do you actually know someone or not?”
She was still waiting to squeeze some funds out of her eldest sister too. But her sister was overseas with a time difference, and it would be late at night over there soon.
“You’re already married. Don’t come asking me about this…go ask your household’s Madam.”
“What do you mean ‘my household’s Madam’? I’m the one in charge here! I’m the Madam! Hey!”
Beep.
The laughter on the other end abruptly cut off. Mengzhou checked her phone screen several times to confirm that Ms. Xu had indeed hung up on her.
She was so furious she almost laughed on the spot.
If she had a mane, it would probably be puffed up right now like a blowfish.
“Do I not look like the head of the household?” She pointed at herself in utter disbelief. “Why does everyone keep saying Ruan Li is the Madam?”
Xiao Yang wisely weighed her words and chose not to answer this life-or-death trap of a question.
When Mengzhou got home and saw Ruan Li, she sized her up from head to toe, her face full of disdain.
Soft, fragile, looking just like a delicate little morning glory that would blow away in the gentlest breeze.
With a huff, Mengzhou raised her eyebrows sky-high, like one end of a seesaw. “I think we need to negotiate the title of ‘Madam’ today. What do you think?”
Ruan Li sat on a cushioned stool, resembling a fine jade vase with her delicate features.
She pulled out her jade hairpin, running her slender fingers through her hair to smooth it out. Letting out a soft laugh, she tapped her pale lips with a fingertip.
“If you dare to kiss me, I’ll admit you’re the one.”
“Fine, you win… I’m not, you are.” Mengzhou gnashed her teeth in frustration, her momentum deflating in an instant.
Yet Ruan Li stood up and closed the distance between them step by step. As if returning the favor for Mengzhou’s earlier inspection, her gaze swept over her from head to toe.
The gaze felt almost physical, making Mengzhou involuntarily shrink back, pulling her collar tightly together.
“How long do you plan to hide?”
Before Mengzhou could answer, Ruan Li asked again, “When are you getting the cast off?”
The two questions were asked so close together that it sounded as if the day the cast came off would be the exact day Mengzhou got eaten alive.
Mengzhou gritted her teeth. “I just turned eighteen!”
“Let’s get it taken off tomorrow then. I’ll make an appointment with the doctor.”
Ruan Li spoke to herself, and before turning toward the walk-in closet, she fixed a meaningful glance on Mengzhou’s hand for a moment. “Just turned eighteen… should I call you ‘junior girl’ or ‘little sister’ then? You might want to check the nightstand…the second drawer down…and get to know yourself a little better.”
What did that mean?!
Did her past self do something completely out of line again?!
Mengzhou’s face turned pale. Trembling with fear and anticipation, even her arm shook as she pulled open the drawer.
The drawer wasn’t large, but it was packed to the brim.
Finger cots, lubricant, various oval and petal-shaped adult toys, a clip with dangling pearls, eye masks, essential restraint gear, and a pile of gossamer-thin pieces of fabric…
Mengzhou’s vision went completely dark.