Unsurprisingly, Mu Yanxi was still rejected by Yi Wulan.
She hadn’t wanted to let Yi Wulan leave, but her phone rang at the most inopportune moment. And of all people, it was her manager, Ling Yi, who worried herself sick over her.
For the sake of her manager’s precarious hairline, Mu Yanxi hesitated for a second before regretfully letting go of Yi Wulan’s wheelchair.
Yi Wulan was rather surprised by this. She knew Mu Yanxi worked in the entertainment industry, but in her eyes, it was just the little ancestor’s whimsical hobby.
Although Rongjia had related investments, she didn’t pay much attention to them.
Therefore, she had never bothered to learn about Mu Yanxi.
It seemed now that this little ancestor’s attitude toward her work wasn’t as perfunctory as she had imagined.
Seeing that Mu Yanxi was discussing work, Yi Wulan didn’t linger and steered her wheelchair toward the elevator.
The manager’s call was simply to convey one message: Mu Yanxi could rest at home, but she shouldn’t forget her profession as an artist. There was a Weibo post she needed to forward soon, and this was a special call to remind her.
Mu Yanxi readily agreed. It had been over ten days since her last Weibo post; it was indeed time for her scheduled fan engagement.
After hanging up, she opened Weibo. A screen full of private messages scrambled to catch her eye, giving the impression that she was incredibly popular.
Of course, these netizens weren’t there to praise her. A quick glance revealed that eight out of ten messages were cursing her out.
They either accused her of using fake goods and being a poser, or they pretended to be passersby and used some popular celebrity to belittle her.
It hadn’t always been this ridiculous. But last year, she had liked a Weibo post claiming her looks were number one in the domestic entertainment industry, offending a huge swarm of celebrity fan groups.
Even after the hype died down, those celebrities’ fans still kept her on their blacklist, showing up every few days to curse her out.
These fan groups usually tore each other apart relentlessly, but they became surprisingly united whenever it came to her.
However, Mu Yanxi showed no remorse and continued to do as she pleased. When she had nothing better to do, she would go online to argue with her anti-fans, her shocking remarks often leaving them fuming with impotent rage.
As the little princess of the Xinyu Group, blessed with an exquisitely beautiful face, Mu Yanxi should have been thriving in the entertainment industry, winning awards left and right in just two years thanks to the capital behind her.
Unfortunately, her grand ideals and ambitions were met with stern opposition the very first night she told Mu Yanqing about them. Her sister had even listed dozens of examples of the filth in the entertainment industry.
But Mu Yanxi had always been the type to do whatever she set her mind to. Any hesitation she might have had vanished. She stubbornly signed a contract with Ling Yi, vowing not to use a single cent of her family’s resources.
Mu Yanqing usually gave Mu Yanxi anything she wanted, but on this matter, she refused to yield.
Thus, after struggling in the entertainment industry for over two years, Mu Yanxi remained a ‘vase’ actress plagued by scandals.
Of course, her persona also led to some private messages with a particularly peculiar style:
【I’m catfishing someone and urgently need a pure, no-makeup selfie. Hurry up and send me one.】
Mu Yanxi replied expressionlessly: [Be honest in your online relationships. If you really have nothing to do, go read a book.]
【You there? Do you know how long it’s been since you posted a selfie? Even the donkeys on a production team wouldn’t dare to rest as much as you.】
Mu Yanxi: [Then you can go be a donkey on a production team (smile)]
【You know you suck at singing and dancing, and your acting is trash, so can you please just use your face to do some fan service? Such a pretty face wasted. Chi An still stole Guan Zhou from you. Aren’t you mad, aren’t you mad, hahaha.】
Mu Yanxi: [You seem to have a big mouth. My farm needs a gatekeeper. Want to consider it?]
【You there? Need help controlling your comments? One yuan per comment, honest price for all.】
Mu Yanxi: [If you’re young, read more books. If you’re old, go find a proper factory job.]
It was in this context that Mu Yanxi received a WeChat message from her manager.
Ling Yi: 【Weibo caption: A new journey is about to begin. Looking forward to seeing you all there. Let’s rack our brains together! (Post around 6:30, don’t you dare be late)】
【You’re supposed to add this as a comment when you forward the official account’s promotional post. Don’t mess it up, you hear me?】
【I worked so hard to get you this guest spot on the variety show. The anti-fans who’ve heard the rumors will probably be here any minute. Post it and then close Weibo. Don’t get into fights, understand?】
Mu Yanxi was about to reply with ‘Okay,’ but a few seconds later, her manager sent a ‘giving up’ sticker, clearly having seen her arguing with anti-fans in the comments again.
Her manager conceded: 【My dear ancestor, didn’t I register a bunch of alternate accounts for you? Can’t you switch to one of those when you go down there to argue with people?】
Mu Yanxi was suddenly struck with guilt.
Seeing that it was almost 6:30, she casually copied her manager’s message, switched to Weibo, and forwarded the post:
【Mu Yanxi: Weibo caption: A new journey is about to begin. Looking forward to seeing you all there. Let’s rack our brains together! (Post around 6:30, don’t you dare be late) //@Let’sFallinLoveTodayOfficial: A new…】
Right after posting, Mu Yanxi realized she had forgotten to delete the extra words, so she quickly deleted ‘Weibo caption’.
Repost: 【Mu Yanxi: A new journey is about to begin. Looking forward to seeing you all there. Let’s rack our brains together! (Post around 6:30, don’t you dare be late) //@Let’sFallinLoveTodayOfficial: A new…】
This time, as luck would have it, her manager, who had been watching her Weibo like a hawk, noticed something was wrong and began frantically bombarding her WeChat again.
Mu Yanxi’s hand trembled. She didn’t dare look at what her manager had sent, nor did she understand why her manager had to put the time reminder at the very end.
After all, who reads these kinds of official captions all the way through?
Mu Yanxi quickly deleted it in a second and tried again:
【Mu Yanxi: A new journey of love is about to begin. Looking forward to seeing you all tonight at seven. //@Let’sFallinLoveTodayOfficial: A new…】
Dayu the Great passed his home three times without entering while taming the floods; she posted on Weibo three times before finally getting one right.
She refreshed the page. In just a few seconds, the comments section had already surpassed a hundred. Mu Yanxi didn’t even need to look to know that the contrarians were at it again:
【You’re a celebrity, for crying out loud. Can you not be so careless when you post on Weibo? Don’t deny it, I saw you delete it twice.】
【Your manager actually dares to give you the password to your main account? How brave.】
【Can you please put some effort into it? Are you so useless you can’t even post on Weibo correctly?】
【No wonder throwing yourself at Guan Zhou was useless when you’re this stupid. Wouldn’t it be better to just be a quietly beautiful little vase?】
In just a few minutes, a negative trending topic about Mu Yanxi was on the verge of breaking into the top ten.
Of course, that was its limit. A D-list celebrity like her who didn’t pay for promotion couldn’t climb any higher.
But a trending topic at this level was enough to make her manager notify the PR team overnight.
When other artists posted a broadcast promotion, their comment sections were filled with enthusiastic, well-behaved fans. But when it came to Mu Yanxi, the style changed abruptly. Not only did she make mistakes and post three times, but her comment section was also a complete mess.
And see, the moment she wasn’t being watched, the little ancestor started a shouting match with the fans again.
Fortunately, the manager was battle-hardened. She calmly comforted the new, trembling little assistant beside her, “It’s fine. You’ll get used to it.”
Even if you can’t get used to it, the generous salary will make you get used to it.
And so, that night, the official announcement for the variety show Go! Pikachu received unprecedented attention, its popularity far surpassing last year’s season.
This was especially true after marketing accounts revealed that Chi An would also be a guest star, though it hadn’t been confirmed yet.
Netizens had been lamenting the lack of opportunities to see Chi An and Mu Yanxi in the same frame, and now, it was as if someone had handed them a pillow just as they were dozing off.
And so, with great fanfare, Go! Pikachu successfully shot to the top of the trending list, boosted by the combined presence of Mu Yanxi and Chi An.
But Mu Yanxi was unaware of all this.
She had long since returned to her room for a bath, lying comfortably in a huge, diamond-faceted circular bathtub.
A fizzy bath bomb slowly dissolved in the warm water, its rainbow colors tinting the water red. A ring of fine foam spread across the surface, adding a touch of rich beauty under the warm lighting.
This was the first time Mu Yanxi had been back to the room. On their wedding night, she had passed out before she even had a chance to look around.
She had assumed Yi Wulan’s home would be decorated with the same minimalist, cold style as her office, but unexpectedly, it suited her tastes perfectly.
At least in terms of decorations and furniture, it was in no way inferior to the houses she used to live in.
In the bathtub, she pondered how to bring up the matter of sharing a bed with Yi Wulan tonight. She agonized over it, rejecting one reason after another, and finally decided to just sneak over directly.
She grabbed a slip dress and shuffled in her slippers toward Yi Wulan’s room.
When she pushed the door open, Yi Wulan was still awake, leaning against the headboard and looking at her laptop, seemingly handling some documents.
Seeing Mu Yanxi, she paused. “Are you missing something? If you can’t find it, you can ask the housekeeper.”
Mu Yanxi shook her head and continued walking toward the bed.
“Then you don’t like it? If there’s anything you’re not satisfied with, we can re…”
Before she could finish her sentence, the bed dipped slightly. Mu Yanxi had lifted a corner of the covers and sat down.
Caught off guard, Yi Wulan was defeated by her restricted legs. A moment’s carelessness was all it took for Mu Yanxi to succeed.
She propped herself up with her hands, trying to move back, but her legs were pinning down the corner of the quilt. The moment she moved, her body was uncontrollably pulled by the fabric, and she fell right back onto the bed.
When Yi Wulan started to move, Mu Yanxi, worried about her physical inconvenience, had wanted to move forward to catch her.
So, when Yi Wulan fell back awkwardly, she landed directly on something warm and soft. She was caught by Mu Yanxi’s outstretched arms, and they rolled once on the bed before the momentum finally stopped.
On the snow-white sheets, their long, dark hair tangled together intimately. Before Yi Wulan could compose herself, she heard a soft chuckle by her ear.
Yi Wulan suddenly had a bad feeling. She stiffly raised her eyes and found that she was pinning Mu Yanxi beneath her. Because of the tumble, both of them were disheveled, and the two thin straps of the other woman’s slip dress had slid down.
If she propped herself up even slightly, she would be able to see the lovely spring scenery revealed on Mu Yanxi’s chest.
Their skin was pressed together. Mu Yanxi’s left hand was hooked around her neck, her right hand resting on her back, and her eyes were full of teasing laughter.
For a moment, Yi Wulan had no idea what to do.
Because her legs were weak, her entire body was forced down on top of Mu Yanxi, pressed tightly against her. Yi Wulan looked down at the richly beautiful face beneath her, and for some reason, her ears began to turn slightly red.
But she attributed it all to the awkwardness of the situation.
Mu Yanxi’s hair was a mess, and she was trapped beneath Yi Wulan, yet she didn’t show the slightest bit of embarrassment.
Her alluring, fox-like eyes were half-closed as her fingertips twirled a lock of Yi Wulan’s fallen hair. With a half-smile, she said, “Yi Wulan, are you planning to have improper intentions toward me in the middle of the night?”
Yi Wulan stiffened and hurriedly tried to get off Mu Yanxi. “No, I’m not.”
But distracted by Mu Yanxi, she had forgotten about the slip dress. With a slight movement, Mu Yanxi’s dress slipped down a little further.
Yi Wulan didn’t dare to move again.
The two of them remained in a stalemate.
Finally, it was Mu Yanxi who broke the awkward silence. Her other hand also hooked around Yi Wulan’s neck, preventing her from moving, and she contentedly observed the other woman’s increasingly flustered and angry expression.
“Don’t be so shy.” Mu Yanxi didn’t care how embarrassed Yi Wulan was. Her post-bath voice carried a lazy, lingering quality. “Having improper intentions toward me isn’t something you need to hide.”
After a moment’s thought, she gently pulled Yi Wulan’s head down, leaned close to her ear, and whispered, “Yi Wulan, if you had been a little more proactive since our wedding day, after these ten-odd days, maybe I’d already be pregnant.”
Yi Wulan: …
Pre… pregnant?
In her twenty-nine years, Yi Wulan had received a conventional education and had never heard of two women being able to have a child without technological intervention.
She was stunned by Mu Yanxi’s shamelessness, her ability to twist right and wrong. She completely forgot about getting off of her, and they remained in their ambiguous position.
Her mind went blank as she froze there, her senses filled with the sweet scent of the bath bomb from Mu Yanxi’s skin. Yi Wulan used these same bath bombs herself and should have been long accustomed to the fragrance.
But now, the same scent emanating from Mu Yanxi made every second feel like a year. Every breath was an ordeal, incredibly difficult to endure.
The tips of Yi Wulan’s ears, hidden by her hair, turned red. The observant Mu Yanxi found this more and more interesting, and she stifled a laugh as she hooked Yi Wulan’s neck and pulled her down.
Their faces were almost touching.
Close enough to see each other’s fine eyelashes.
Close enough that a slight tilt of the head would lead to a kiss.
Mu Yanxi blinked, unable to hide the smile in her eyes. “Yi Wulan, why have you gone quiet?”
Yi Wulan desperately suppressed her breathing, afraid that if she breathed too heavily, Mu Yanxi would seize upon it as another fault and accuse her of having ‘improper intentions’ or something similar.
Under Mu Yanxi’s increasingly ambiguous gaze, Yi Wulan finally couldn’t take it anymore. She closed her eyes with an expression of someone facing their doom. “What exactly do you want?”
Mu Yanxi blinked slowly, her eyes curving. “Hmm? You’re asking me?”
Yi Wulan’s tone was forceful, but she kept her eyes closed, not daring to look at Mu Yanxi. “It’s getting late. You can go to sleep now.”
“Is that so.” The softness in Mu Yanxi’s eyes deepened, and her tone seemed to carry little hooks.
The moment Yi Wulan heard Mu Yanxi drawl the last word, she had a bad feeling.
Sure enough, after Mu Yanxi slowly finished her sentence, the hands that had been hooked around her neck moved down to her back.
The warmth of her palms seeped through the thin nightgown, making Yi Wulan’s back burn.
Yi Wulan’s eyes flew open, and she stared at Mu Yanxi in astonishment.
“Since you want to sleep early, why did you pounce on me?” Mu Yanxi smiled gently, her voice even softer than her actions:
“Or is it that for you presidents, holding a woman and rolling around in bed with her doesn’t count as having improper intentions?”
im cackling