Meanwhile, on Lu Zhiheng’s side.
He had just gotten ready to rest when his phone vibrated.
A message from his assistant popped up:
[President Lu, Su Qinghe is trending again. Someone took photos of her at the hotel tonight, and some marketing accounts are claiming she had a “late night rendezvous” with you. She just posted a response on Weibo. Would you like to take a look?]
Lu Zhiheng frowned slightly. What was that woman up to now?
He had no intention of getting involved.
Yet, for some reason, his finger moved on its own and tapped the link his assistant had sent.
The page loaded to Su Qinghe’s Weibo profile.
Her latest post.
He lowered his gaze and read through it.
His eyes lingered on the final sentence for two seconds.
“Mr. Lu Zhiheng and I have no relationship whatsoever. We never did before, and we never will in the future.”
Never did before?
That part was true. But never will in the future?
Lu Zhiheng stared at those words, his eyes darkening slightly.
She sounded remarkably certain.
As though she found him particularly undesirable.
Even though she had been the one who drugged him tonight, the one who went crazy, the one who forcibly climbed into his bed.
And now she was acting as though she wanted to draw a clear line between them, distancing herself so cleanly and decisively that it seemed as if nothing had ever happened.
Setting down his phone, Lu Zhiheng leaned back in his chair. His long fingers tapped lightly against the armrest.
A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.
What exactly is she trying to do?
Playing hard to get?
It didn’t seem like it.
The look in her eyes when she apologized had been far too open and honest, without the slightest trace of pretense.
She genuinely didn’t care.
She didn’t care about him, nor did she care about the image she left in his mind.
It was almost as though…
She had become a completely different person.
After a moment of silence, Lu Zhiheng picked up his phone again and sent a message to his assistant.
[Keep an eye on her. See what she’s been doing lately.]
The moment he sent it, he froze.
Keep an eye on her? Why would he want to do that?
He should be staying as far away from that crazy woman as possible.
Rubbing his forehead, Lu Zhiheng tossed the phone aside.
The effects of the drug from tonight must not have worn off yet.
That had to be it.
The next morning, Su Qinghe was awakened by a phone call.
Still half asleep, she fumbled for her phone and glanced at the caller ID.
Mother Dearest.
She accepted the call.
A gentle female voice came through the speaker.
“Hehe, I saw the Weibo post you made last night. Tell Mom the truth. Did something happen? Why did you suddenly come to your senses?”
Su Qinghe became a little more alert and sat up against the headboard.
The original owner’s mother, Lin Wan.
In the novel, she was a gentle and kind woman who doted on the original owner endlessly. In the end, she was dragged down by her daughter, her family business collapsed, and she turned white-haired overnight.
A complicated emotion rose within Su Qinghe.
Taking a deep breath, she softened her voice.
“Mom, I’m fine. I just… suddenly figured things out. You can’t force love. I don’t want you and Dad worrying about me anymore.”
The other end of the line fell silent for two seconds.
Then Lin Wan’s voice became choked with emotion.
“Hehe, you really… you really mean that?”
“I do,” Su Qinghe replied seriously. “Mom, I promise. Starting today, I won’t pursue Lu Zhiheng anymore. I want to focus on my career and my acting. I want to make you and Dad proud.”
Lin Wan sniffled.
“Good, good. Mom believes you. If you can truly think this way, then I can finally stop worrying. By the way, the resources at your little company are terrible. Do you want Mom to help you look around and find a better agency?”
After some thought, Su Qinghe shook her head.
“Not yet, Mom. Let me think about it a little more and figure out my next step.”
She did need to change companies.
But now wasn’t the right time.
The original owner still had one year left on her contract with that small agency, and the penalty for breaking it wasn’t cheap.
She needed to save some money first, or secure a new company before making any moves.
More importantly, she had to prove her own value first.
In this world, she was no longer the top actress she had been in reality. She was merely an obscure D-list celebrity mocked across the internet. Although she frequently trended, it was always for negative reasons. She had little commercial value and was treated as nothing more than a clown, someone who could never be taken seriously.
Everything would have to start from scratch.
After hanging up, Su Qinghe opened Weibo.
The comments under her post from last night had completely exploded.
The most-liked comments read:
[Holy crap? Did Su Qinghe suddenly change personalities?]
[“We never did before and never will in the future.” That’s pretty absolute. I actually kind of believe her.]
[LMAO. Has Su Qinghe finally come to her senses? Lu Zhiheng is free at last.]
[Exactly. I’m not even a Lu Zhiheng fan, but congratulations anyway, baby.]
[Sis, blink twice if you’ve been kidnapped.]
[Am I the only one who thinks her response was pretty classy this time? No fighting, no playing the victim, just a direct clarification. It’s actually making me like her more.]
[+1. Way better than all those deranged posts she used to make.]
As Su Qinghe read through them, a faint smile curled her lips.
The tide was beginning to turn.
People were still criticizing her, but some had already started wavering.
That was exactly the effect she wanted.
No explanations.
No arguments.
No victim act.
The calmer and more dignified she appeared, the more it would seem that the previous deranged villainess supporting character had been someone else entirely.
From this day forward, Su Qinghe intended to become a new person.
Just then, her phone vibrated again.
A private message.
She opened it.
The sender was an unfamiliar account with no profile picture and a username consisting of random characters.
There was only one sentence:
[Su Qinghe, are you really going to stop chasing Lu Zhiheng?]
Su Qinghe raised an eyebrow.
Who was this?
She didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she opened the profile.
It was completely empty.
Nothing at all.
After thinking for a moment, she typed a response.
[None of your damn business.]
Send, then she blocked the account.
A smooth, efficient sequence of actions.
Whoever it was, she didn’t care.
She had no intention of entertaining them.
Meanwhile, in Lu Zhiheng’s office.
Assistant Xu pushed open the door and entered, his expression somewhat strange.
“President Lu, there has been… some activity on Miss Su’s side.”
Without lifting his head, Lu Zhiheng said, “Go on.”
Assistant Xu cleared his throat.
“This morning she posted on Weibo saying that she’ll be focusing on her career from now on and won’t be dating. Then… then she blocked an account that asked about her relationship with you.”
Only then did Lu Zhiheng look up.
“What account?”
Assistant Xu’s expression became even more peculiar.
“Miss Su replied with, ‘None of your damn business.’ Then the owner of that account, probably a fan, posted a screenshot. It’s trending again.”
Lu Zhiheng: “…”
The office suddenly fell silent.
A thought crossed his mind.
Su Qinghe, you’d better mean it.
If you say it, then follow through.
Assistant Xu saw that his boss’s expression didn’t look particularly pleasant.
“President Lu, then I’ll take my leave.”
Receiving no response, Assistant Xu quietly opened the door and slipped out.
The boss’s thoughts are as deep as the ocean, he mused inwardly.
Serving him really is like serving a tiger. Better not try to guess what’s on his mind.
On Su Qinghe’s side, she suddenly sneezed for no apparent reason.
Strange! She wasn’t even catching a cold.
Puzzled, Su Qinghe returned to tinkering with the kitchen appliances.
The original owner’s spacious luxury apartment had a fairly large semi-open kitchen.
The appliances were quite complete, but every single one of them looked brand new. Some still had the original labels attached.
As expected of a wealthy young lady who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen.
In her previous life, Su Qinghe at least knew how to cook. But as she stared at this particular brand of air fryer, she fell into deep contemplation.
How exactly were you supposed to adjust the temperature on this thing again?
Her phone rang.
The caller ID read: “Our Little Courtyard Production Team.”