“Fu Jing, you’ve worked hard for Xu Mei, sacrificing so much time. Now that the competition’s over, you can finally rest. When are you heading back to Shanghai? I’ll book your ticket,” Qin Yi said, polite and courteous, leaving Fu Jing no room to refuse.
Not return to Shanghai?
Object to Xu Mei hiring an assistant?
Neither was an option.
Unless Fu Jing was willing to abandon her studies and become Xu Mei’s full-time assistant, staying by her side would make sense.
But that was impossible.
Xu Mei risked it all for her celebrity dream. Fu Jing had assessed her own abilities—she lacked Xu Mei’s vocal talent and looks, ruling out a career as a star.
Her degree was her greatest asset. Giving it up to be Xu Mei’s errand-runner wasn’t the life Fu Jing wanted.
Qin Yi’s words felt like burning bridges.
A flicker of suspicion arose, quickly dismissed. Qin Yi was just concerned for her. Among all the guys she knew, he was the most gentlemanly. How could someone like him be so callous?
Uneasy, fearing he’d sensed something, Fu Jing agreed to return to Shanghai to maintain her image. “You’re going to Macau for National Day, right? I’ll stay with Xu Mei through her holiday gigs. After that, you’ll have to take over. You’re our dorm’s model boyfriend—I trust you’ll protect her.”
She brought up the male fans and Hunan elites chasing Xu Mei, feigning worry. “Honestly, I regret helping her hide the contract from you. We only saw the glamour of the industry, not what she’d face entering it. Just… take care of her. I really hope you two make it. Good luck!”
Qin Yi’s expression softened.
At the celebratory banquet, Fu Jing noticeably distanced herself from Xu Mei, no longer inserting herself into everything. Qin Yi wondered if he’d misjudged her.
Maybe female friendships were just clingy?
In junior and senior high, some girls went everywhere together—cafeteria, snack runs, even bathroom trips, hand-in-hand.
Guys didn’t get it. Outside of sports or gaming, there was no need to drag friends along.
As Qin Yi questioned his suspicions, Fu Jing was seething.
Nursing a drink in a corner, watching Qin Yi and Xu Mei work the room while Wen Ying shamelessly mooched off Li Mengjiao’s hospitality, Fu Jing downed several glasses, her steps growing unsteady.
“After all that effort, you’re still an outsider, unable to break into their relationship or their world. Aren’t you mad?” It was Professor Fang’s assistant.
Fu Jing stared at her glass.
Pan Li’s words stung, hitting her sore spot.
Qin Yi thought she should return to Shanghai post-competition, and she’d swallowed it.
Xu Mei hadn’t even tried to keep her around.
A few airy words of thanks—did they cover all her hard work since the auditions?
Xu Mei felt slighted by the Qin family, yet now, post-victory, she was all smiles with Qin Yi’s sister and even chatted warmly with Qin Jiao’s friend Wen Ying.
Hours before the finals, Fu Jing had clashed with Wen Ying—over whom? Xu Mei.
When Fu Jing told Xu Mei, they’d been united in indignation. Yet now, Xu Mei acted like nothing happened, laughing with Wen Ying’s group. So Fu Jing played the villain while Xu Mei got to be the saint?
Reading Fu Jing’s expression, Pan Li saw an opening. Intent on stirring trouble, she advised, “To avoid being sidelined, make them need you. Do something only you can do, so they can’t ditch you. Is your value just running errands? Xu Mei’s a signed artist—the company will assign her staff. A top-tier student like you, scrambling to fetch and carry? That’s beneath you.”
Pan Li wasn’t skilled, but her nightclub days taught her flattery. She’d won over Fang by elevating her to savior status.
Confident she could sway Fu Jing, she was wrong.
A few drinks left Fu Jing wobbly, but her guard stayed up. “Who’re you targeting? Never mind, I don’t care. Don’t play games with me. Like you said, show your worth. Fang knows the organizers’ execs. I don’t care how—find out the terms they’re offering Li Mengjiao. Do that, and we’ll talk.”
Fu Jing left Pan Li in the corner.
Stunned, Pan Li’s anger turned to a smirk. Not too naive—perfect. Too gullible, and she’d be useless against that Wen girl.
At the bustling banquet, no one noticed their corner chat, except Geng Xiao.
More perceptive than Tang Yifeng or Wang Shuang, he tipped off Wen Ying.
“Maybe just small talk, who knows,” he said.
Wen Ying was skeptical. Those two, kindred spirits hitting it off?
Would Pan Li casually chat with Fu Jing?
As Fang’s assistant, Pan Li likely saw her as a stepping stone to bigger things. Fu Jing wasn’t worth her time.
Qin Jiao mentioned Qin Yi had offered to book Fu Jing’s ticket back to Shanghai, and she’d agreed readily.
Wen Ying had thought she’d misjudged Fu Jing, assuming her meddling stemmed from a boundary-blind personality, not malice.
Now? It depended on what Fu Jing was plotting.
She considered warning Qin Yi, but Xie Qian disagreed. “You catch a thief with evidence. You’re not close to Qin Yi, and Fu Jing hasn’t done anything yet. If you tattle, you’re no better than her.”
What was Fu Jing? A fire-starter, a schemer, self-righteous.
Wen Ying flushed.
Xie Qian was right. Whatever Fu Jing did to Xu Mei and Qin Yi was their drama. If they disliked her, she wouldn’t last.
If she stayed, it’d be because one of them wanted her around.
“Fine, I’ll listen. As long as she doesn’t mess with us, I’m hands-off,” Wen Ying said.
Xie Qian fought the urge to pat her head.
This hamster knew when to fight and when to heed advice.
