Hua Ling turned gracefully toward Mao Li, expression cool and poised, though her eyes flickered with tension.

She lifted her head slightly. "Boss, if this keeps up, there’s a real chance he’ll overtake me."

Mao Li’s gaze shifted to the screen. He remembered the vote tallies clearly—Fu Jing Rong’s name had surged faster than any artist he’d ever seen rise.

The man had been absent from public life for over a year, yet now he was closing in on Hua Ling’s lead.

And who had driven that surge?

Fu Jing Rong himself!

Just his existence brought in attention Mao Li had hoped belonged to Hua Ling alone.

He swallowed.

From the top of the hierarchy to the guest lounge, his protective instincts tightened. Hua Ling wasn’t just an artist.

She was the centerpiece of everything Blue Entertainment had built in the past year after Hua Jing’s accident.

If anyone was to be the face of their empire, it had to be her. He couldn’t allow someone—even the legendary Fu Jing Rong—to overshadow that.

He stood straighter, stepping closer to the glowing screen. The numbers didn’t lie. But neither would he let circumstances define her.

Hua Ling watched, biting back worry. She cleared her throat again, voice softer this time.

"Maybe... we should do a little maintenance work on the narrative."

Mao Li didn’t break eye contact. He understood completely. In this industry, a well-timed water army, subtle media nudges, quiet edits—this was survival. It wasn’t manipulation.

It was strategy!

Everyone was doing it and he did not become the director of the entertainment company simply by playing nice!

He gave her a firm nod. "Don’t worry about a thing." His voice lowered, confident. "You just focus on yourself. Rest well before the show."

Hua Ling exhaled, relief softening her posture.

She nodded once. "Thank you."

Zhou Yi stood behind her, eyes bright with relief, already imagining headlines and hashtag strategies in his head.

Zhou Yi nodded in approval. "Spoken like a real boss."

"Speaking of the show," Mao Li added, turning to Hua Ling, "you’re still performing Just Drop, right?"

Hua Ling gave a light nod.

Just Drop was her newest single—an upbeat pop anthem with an addictive chorus and attitude-heavy lyrics. It had debuted on all major charts just two weeks ago and had already broken streaming records. Flashy, dance-heavy, and undeniably catchy, it was meant to be the crown jewel of her performance career.

The Blue Awards would be the song’s first-ever live performance.

"Rehearsals are locked in?" Mao Li asked.

"Tomorrow morning. Full crew," Zhou Yi replied smoothly. "She’s ready."

"Good," Mao Li said, standing. "Make sure everything’s flawless."

Once he was gone, Zhou Yi tapped his tablet a few more times, then turned to Hua Ling.

"Sister Ling," he said with a sigh, "your next three days are jammed. Two rehearsals, one radio interview, and a fitting with the designer team."

Hua Ling nodded. "Noted."

Zhou Yi smirked and tilted his head. "Should I assume you’re unavailable tonight because of a certain someone?"

She didn’t reply.

But the faintest blush dusted her cheeks.

"Oh-ho~" Zhou Yi leaned in, grinning. "A date with Young Master Xu again, huh?"

Still no answer.

That was answer enough.

"Just don’t get caught walking into his building again," he warned with a wag of his finger. "You know how ruthless the paparazzi are. One photo, and your image takes a hit before the awards."

"I know," she said simply.

With that, she stood and left.

By the time she reached Xu Ming’s penthouse, the city was drowning in golden hour. He opened the door wordlessly, and the second their eyes met, nothing else existed.

Inside Xu Ming’s penthouse, the lights were dim and the air heady with expensive perfume and bad decisions.

The second Hua Ling walked in, she was already in his arms — no greetings, no words. Her coat barely touched the floor before his lips found her neck. She giggled, low and soft, fingers trailing down the line of his shirt like she was sketching a claim on him.

Xu Ming had always liked her like this — shameless, brazen, and insatiable for attention. She knew exactly what buttons to press and how far to push before he snapped.

"Be careful," she whispered, her voice silk and poison, "What if someone’s taking pictures?"

He laughed against her skin. "Let them. Who’s gonna stop me?"

She smiled, teeth flashing. Of course he wouldn’t care. He never had. Especially not about Hua Jing.

As his hands wandered and her breath caught, she tilted her head and murmured, "Tell me... did Hua Jing ever taste this sweet?"

He paused — just for a beat — then chuckled cruelly. "That country girl? Don’t insult yourself."

Hua Ling’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "Then who’s better, hmm?"

"You," he said, instantly, like it wasn’t even a question. "She was nothing. You? You know how to drive me mad."

That’s all she needed.

In the back of her mind, she remembered how it all started — when Xu Ming was still calling Hua Jing his everything. When she was still playing the sweet younger sister, waiting on the sidelines. Back then, she’d hated how gentle his eyes became when he looked at Hua Jing.

So she stole him.

Bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by lie — until she had him wrapped around her finger and Hua Jing left with nothing but a broken heart and silence.

Now, in this penthouse above the city, Hua Ling curled her fingers into his hair and smiled against his mouth. She didn’t care how twisted it was. She had him now.

And she wasn’t letting go!

Their shamelessness proceeded in their actions and it was almost impossible to break them apart.

In this world, Xu Ming had not even cared that Hua Jing had gotten into the accident a year ago.

When the news spread, he was already in bed entangled with Hua Ling.

Throughout their relationship, he was cheating profusely and he was probably the biggest winner when he heard about the accident!

Compare Hua Jing to Hua Ling?

Utterly ridiculous!

Hua Jing had never even let him touch her!