Confess?
There’s an old saying: confess and the prison term is lenient, resist and you get to go home for New Year.
Of course he should hide it if he could! If he hid it to the grave, Li Mengjiao would never find out about this embarrassing “failed start-up” episode.
If he really couldn’t hide it… well, then confession was the only option.
At least if he told her himself, he could still spin it a little. If she heard some twisted version from someone else, who knows what she’d think!
Wang Shuang agonised for ages and finally made up his mind.
But Li Mengjiao had already charged into the office area.
“Wow, so grand~”
Li Mengjiao strutted around like a landlord inspecting her estate, hands behind her back, circling again and again, clearly delighted with Tianjiao’s new Shanghai office.
For one thing, the space was huge.
Last year when Mrs Wang came to Shanghai to buy property, she’d learned from agent Yao Xiaojia that while residential prices kept rising, office building prices were actually falling.
Yao Xiaojia explained: Shanghai had a massive oversupply of office space.
Capital had flooded in, new buildings had gone up like crazy, and non-prime locations had tons of vacancies.
When units sat empty or rents disappointed developers, they had to find other ways to recover capital. Selling at a discount brought in cash fast. Some buildings were now over 10% cheaper than early 2006!
Mrs Wang’s eyes lit up: at Shanghai’s growth rate, any price dip was just a short-term adjustment. Not snapping up a bargain would be dumb. After discussing with Yuan Fenghui, she decisively bought two entire floors at an average of 20,000 RMB per square metre.
One floor became the office area; the other was turned into various functional zones.
There were rest rooms for artists, an audio-visual room, a practice studio.
Of course they also allocated a fitness area—artists had to stay in shape, and staff could escape sub-health.
They had even prepared a private office for Wen Ying.
Wang Shuang opened the door and showed off to her proudly. “What do you think? The renovation’s pretty good, right?”
A computer sat on the desk.
Against the wall was a floor-to-ceiling wooden bookshelf filled with reference books and the three novels Wen Ying had already published.
Wen Ying tried the chair—super comfortable.
It wasn’t just an office; close the door, hang the “Do Not Disturb” sign, and it became her personal writing sanctuary.
When inspiration lagged, she could open the blinds and look down on Shanghai’s bustling traffic. Very pleasant.
“The renovation is excellent. Auntie Dong really went all out. And you deserve a lot of credit too!”
A casual compliment from Wen Ying made Wang Shuang puff out his chest as he led Li Mengjiao to see the recording studio.
Compared to a professional studio it was small, and real album recording would still need external facilities.
But for demos and casual recording it was more than enough.
Li Mengjiao grabbed the mic and tested the acoustics, then turned to Wang Shuang. “Has Zhang Yangning tried it yet? She’s going to fall in love with this place!”
Looks were one thing—functionality was another.
Tianjiao’s Chengdu office wasn’t shabby, but compared to the new Shanghai setup, it simply wasn’t professional enough.
That wasn’t Yuan Fenghui’s fault.
Back when the company started, cash was tight.
Even shooting dramas required bank loans—where would they find spare money for pro equipment? A small recording studio, with no upper budget limit but a very real lower one, cost at least seven figures!
Later when they finally made money, Yuan Fenghui knew they’d eventually move headquarters to Shanghai, so she didn’t want to sink big cash into a temporary space.
Money had to be spent where it counted.
Like on property Tianjiao now owned outright!
Seeing Li Mengjiao so thrilled, Wang Shuang felt proud by association. “Zhang Yangning hasn’t been yet. Yun Chen came once—he loves the practice room but refuses to set foot in the gym.”
“Hahahaha, of course he refuses! Loves food but terrified of gaining weight—eat and you gotta work it off!”
Li Mengjiao gloated.
She loved eating too and sometimes couldn’t control herself.
When she broke Yuan Fenghui’s diet rules and sneaked high-calorie treats, she’d simply skip a few meals. Young metabolism was on her side; the occasional slip never showed.
Yun Chen was different.
He’d debuted late. After 25, metabolism slows for everyone. If he didn’t watch his mouth and refused to exercise, he’d balloon.
For an idol who relied on looks, gaining weight was career suicide.
To stay in shape, Yun Chen had no choice: eat gourmet food, then hit the gym hard. He couldn’t even starve himself like Li Mengjiao—male idols without muscle looked like pale steamed chicken!
Thinking of Yun Chen’s tragic life made Li Mengjiao smug.
She had never been a classic beauty; she was the quintessential petite Sichuan girl—more cute than stunning, a spicy little firecracker.
At some point, Wang Shuang’s gaze had started unconsciously following that little firecracker.
As an outsider, Wen Ying had long seen the truth: Wang Shuang was done for. A whole year apart hadn’t changed anything—he was still completely wrapped around Li Mengjiao’s finger!
Wang Shuang finally snapped out of his daze. While Li Mengjiao was happy, he wanted to come clean about the failed start-up.
Then his phone rang.
He instinctively flinched.
After Hang Xiaowen’s barrage of calls, he now had phone PTSD.
Then he remembered—he’d blocked her!
He checked: local Shanghai landline.
He hesitated.
What if Hang Xiaowen had switched numbers?
Xie Qian had said she was still lurking outside the complex late at night…
Li Mengjiao frowned. “Why aren’t you answering?”
Wang Shuang hemmed and hawed.
His brain was a mess. He looked desperately at Wen Ying for help, but she very unloyally slipped away: “You two chat. I want to enjoy my private office a bit more!”
Wang Shuang was speechless.
The ringing finally stopped.
Before he could speak, it started again.
Li Mengjiao grew even more suspicious. “Something’s definitely off with you. Not just now—you’ve been distracted the whole ride. Be honest: did you secretly take out some shady loan or something?”
“Of course not! Sigh, it’s not a loan. It’s a long story…”
Li Mengjiao smirked. “Answer the phone first. We’ve got plenty of time for your long story later.”
Not answering would only make him look guiltier. Wang Shuang braced himself and accepted the call.
His worst fear came true.
Hang Xiaowen’s anxious, aggrieved voice poured out: “Wang Shuang, I sent you messages and you didn’t reply, I called and you didn’t pick up. I waited forever at the complex and you never showed. We’ve known each other for so long—are you really going to be this ruthless? At least give me a chance to explain!”
The smile vanished from Li Mengjiao’s face in an instant.
Wang Shuang panicked and covered the mouthpiece. “It’s really not what you think!”
Li Mengjiao folded her arms and said frostily, “Oh? And what exactly do I think?”
This scumbag Wang Shuang!
It wasn’t even the first time he’d treated a girl like this.
Whoever dated this scumbag would only end up hurt.
Li Mengjiao was a rising star, but also just a girl who’d finished the gaokao. She’d scored 985-level; her memory was excellent.
At that moment, every glorious entry in Wang Shuang’s dating history flooded back.
Countless “girlfriends.”
Secretly crushing on Qin Jiao.
This absolute dog of a man…
Li Mengjiao turned on her heel and stormed toward Wen Ying’s office.
