Chapter Forty-Three: I’m Still Not Full

“Junior sister, this is in front of the company—be mindful of your behavior,” Han Ziyu said, forcing down his anger as he tried to persuade her.

“Alright, alright,” Luo Shui reluctantly let go of Qin Mu’s warm neck, tiptoeing over to the passenger seat. “We’ll continue when we get home.”

Hearing this, Han Ziyu’s expression darkened further, and he felt an inexplicable sense of humiliation. Go home and continue? Continue what? He didn't need to guess.

He and Luo Shui had known each other for several years at the company, their relationship as bland as plain water. Yet she had only just met this man and was already eager to follow him into bed? So much for her claim of being pure and chaste—what a shameless woman!

Once Luo Shui got into the car and Qin Mu drove the Bugatti Veyron away, Han Ziyu finally turned back toward the company. Upon returning to his private office, he couldn’t hold back his rage.

“One day, I’ll have you in my bed and make you regret ever crossing me!”

As he was fuming, the door swung open and a voluptuous woman in her forties sashayed in.

“So, who’s got our top star in such a state?” she asked, her tone teasing.

It was Zhang Hong, one of the company’s top agents.

“Who else would it be? That Luo Shui under your management,” Han Ziyu replied irritably.

“Her? She had an accident last night, I reported it to the company, but she came back today as if nothing happened. Management just wants us to cover up what happened last night—everything else is business as usual.” Zhang Hong seemed puzzled.

“Hmph, nothing happened? That shameless thing ran off with a man last night.”

“What?!” Zhang Hong gasped.

Luo Shui, seeing someone behind the company’s back while they were investing so much in her? Was she trying to ruin herself?

“I saw it with my own eyes. She’s hooked up with some rich guy. Just now, right in front of our company, she was clinging to him, kissing him—absolutely disgusting!”

The thought that the goddess he had always fancied was now throwing herself at another man, seemingly eager to give herself away, filled Han Ziyu with rage. He slammed his fist on the desk.

“She left in such a hurry—she’s probably off to sleep with that rich guy!”

“That’s not quite right. I watched her head to a restaurant,” Zhang Hong said, glancing sideways at her phone.

“Hongjie, how do you know that?” Han Ziyu asked in surprise.

“Just a little trick of the trade,” Zhang Hong waved it off, not elaborating.

The company had a secret method: to ensure their artists didn’t break the rules, they installed a tracking system on their phones. That way, wherever they went, the company could monitor them.

“Hongjie, tell me where she is,” Han Ziyu said, a cunning idea flashing through his mind.

“Oh? That depends on how well you perform,” Zhang Hong replied with a sly smile.

Without hesitation, Han Ziyu wrapped his arms around her, unconcerned by their nearly twenty-year age difference.

“Of course I know what to do. Hongjie, just tell me where Luo Shui is, and tonight I promise to make you very comfortable.”

...

Inside the Bugatti Veyron.

Qin Mu glanced in the rearview mirror at Han Ziyu, who was stomping angrily outside, and smiled indifferently.

“Aren’t you worried he’ll hold a grudge, with you putting on such a show?”

“He’s always pestering me. I’d be glad to find an excuse to get rid of him,” Luo Shui replied helplessly.

She felt nothing for Han Ziyu—their relationship was nothing more than that of superior and subordinate. Especially after last night, she could finally see clearly who truly cared for her, and who was only interested in her looks.

“By the way, some good news—I was supposed to take a role in that dance drama, but it got canceled at the last minute. The director, Chen, apparently ran into some trouble.”

“Really?” Qin Mu replied casually.

It seemed the news in the industry had indeed been tightly contained by Zhang Feng, not spreading out and certainly not implicating Luo Shui.

“Well, that saves me from having to dance with that guy,” Luo Shui muttered, unwilling to let Han Ziyu take advantage of her.

“To celebrate my newfound freedom, let’s eat out tonight instead of at home!” Without waiting for Qin Mu to respond, she pulled out her phone, opened the map, and began directing him.

Luo Shui led Qin Mu to a bustling food street, and, pulling a large pair of sunglasses and a mask from her bag, disguised herself tightly.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” Qin Mu teased.

“Absolutely not! Unless you want to be mobbed while eating?” she retorted.

Qin Mu, not being a celebrity, naturally couldn’t understand Luo Shui’s worries.

Soon, Luo Shui led him by the hand into a restaurant that wasn’t too crowded but had a pleasant atmosphere.

“This one will do!” she declared.

They picked a window seat on the second floor.

“My treat today—order whatever you like!” Luo Shui said happily.

In the past, whenever she dined out in a good mood, she always ate alone, which made her feel especially lonely. But now, with Qin Mu sitting across from her, she felt a rare sense of joy.

“I’ll follow your lead,” Qin Mu replied.

“Then—boss, two standard Western set meals, and a bottle of red wine.”

After ordering, Luo Shui propped her chin on her hands, fingers tugging at her sleeves, and stared at Qin Mu’s face.

“The more I look at you, the more handsome you seem,” she remarked with a click of her tongue.

“Any longer and you’ll start drooling,” Qin Mu warned.

Thinking he was serious, Luo Shui quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth.

Soon, the two Western meals and a bottle of red wine were brought to the table.