Chapter Thirty-Eight: Threatened

Jin Jianyi kindly offered, “Let me help you apply the medicine.”
Jian An’an reacted like a startled cat whose tail had been stepped on, refusing at once, “No need!”
Only after speaking did she realize she might have overreacted. She hurried to soften her tone, “Thank you for your kindness, Brother Jianyi, but I can do it myself—I’d really prefer to handle it on my own.”
Seeing how insistent she was, Jin Jianyi could only give up in the end. He reminded her to be careful when applying the medicine and told her to get to bed early.
Jian An’an was already growing impatient inside, but outwardly she had to keep up a look of delight, even as her feet edged slowly toward the stairs.
Why did Jin Jianyi have so much to say? She was about to miss her nightly meeting with that staff member!
Usually, even when there was nothing going on, he followed her around like a shadow, making it hard for her to do anything she wanted. She was forced to sneak around, almost slipping up several times.
Noticing her drifting farther and farther away, Jin Jianyi swallowed the rest of his words and turned them into a simple, “You should rest early. I’ll go upstairs now.”
When she saw that he was finally leaving, Jian An’an was so relieved that she forgot to control her expression.
Startled, she quickly composed herself and glanced at Jin Jianyi.
He hadn’t looked back, and she let out a long sigh of relief.
She didn’t know that he had already turned around, hoping to catch a look of longing in her eyes—only to see a fleeting smile instead.
A sharp pain stabbed through Jin Jianyi’s heart.
He tried to console himself, thinking perhaps she’d just remembered something amusing.
Jian An’an lingered at the foot of the stairs for a long while, and after hearing Jin Jianyi truly go into his room, she waited a little longer, listening for any sounds. When there was nothing, she finally relaxed.
On tiptoe, she changed into a pair of fuzzy slippers before quietly slipping out the small building’s door.
Jian An’an didn’t want to wear those slippers, but whoever had designed the little house—some fool, no doubt—had laid wooden floors, so any step she took made noise if she wasn’t careful.
In the end, she was forced to wear the slippers.
Once outside, Jian An’an walked a long way before stopping at a secluded street corner.
She looked around, found the familiar entrance to the artificial rockery, and slipped inside.
But upon entering, she saw that the staff member was absent tonight.
Jian An’an frowned. Had something happened to him? Usually, he was already waiting—why wasn’t there a trace of him this time?

How was she supposed to borrow a phone to contact her agent now?
There was one thing Jian An’an really hated: every night, Li Weiwei sent someone to inspect the props.
That wasn’t the worst of it—the busybody would also check the guests’ phones.
Jian An’an cursed the fool silently. If everything was properly put away, how could anything go missing unless someone took it? This meant she had to return her phone every night before midnight.
She waited a long time before finally hearing hurried footsteps.
The sound grew closer, and Jian An’an’s heart leapt—was the staffer finally here?
Though delighted, she put on a show of annoyance, scolding the sweaty, breathless worker, “You’re late today. I’m docking half your pay.”
“What! Why? I’m only a little late!” Zhou Xiancheng remembered that Jian An’an used to be quite generous; why was she nitpicking now?
The truth was, after being swindled out of 120,000 by Song Wannian last time, Jian An’an was strapped for cash.
Her family kept pressing her for living expenses.
Jian An’an had no choice but to look for excuses to cut costs.
“There’s no ‘why’ about it. Who’s paying whom here?” Her meaning was obvious: keep arguing and she’d dock it all.
Zhou Xiancheng pursed his lips. Did she think he even wanted this job? The risk was enormous, and for what—one thousand a night? If he got caught, he’d lose his thirty-thousand-a-month job as prop master.
He stood there, saying nothing.
Growing impatient, Jian An’an stretched out a hand, “Where’s my phone? Hand it over.”
Zhou Xiancheng scratched his head. “I… actually, that’s what I came to tell you. I don’t think I can help you with your phone for now.”
“Why not?”
“The director said a sponsor’s relative has their eye on my position. She asked me to step aside and promised she’d remember my help.”
He spoke without noticing Jian An’an’s face growing darker and darker.
She cursed him again inwardly—once he stepped aside, there’d be no coming back, and she’d have to find someone else for help.
Back when Jin Jianyi didn’t like her so much and wasn’t always at her side, she’d wander the crew, seeking out staff who also disliked Song Wannian—befriending those she could, sowing bad impressions where possible.
Now she had no such opportunities!

“If you can’t get me my phone anymore, then I won’t pay you today, and you don’t need to come looking for me again.”
“No way, you have to pay me!” Zhou Xiancheng’s face changed abruptly.
“You didn’t do the job—why should I pay you?”
“If you dare not pay, I’ll tell everyone you’ve been sneaking your phone out!”
Jian An’an knew she couldn’t afford to be blackmailed, so she pretended nonchalance. “If you want to, go ahead and tell.”
She could always explain she was just addicted to games and felt unwell if she didn’t play every day.
But Zhou Xiancheng clenched his fists. “Then I’ll tell them about you bringing paparazzi in to secretly photograph Song Wannian!”
“Do you have proof?” Jian An’an was even more brazen—after all, it had all been verbal agreements.
To her surprise, Zhou Xiancheng pulled out his phone—he’d been recording their conversation.
Jian An’an’s eyes widened. “Give me my phone!” She lunged to grab it.
But a woman’s strength was no match for a man’s. Zhou Xiancheng shoved her hard by the shoulder, sending her sprawling to the ground, her elbow scraped and bleeding.
Jian An’an cried out in pain, “Ah!”
Zhou Xiancheng spoke unhurriedly, “You two-faced woman, I knew what kind of person you were the moment you asked me to bring the paparazzi up the mountain. So you’d better hand over my money, or I’ll send out these recordings—this one and all the previous ones!”
Realizing she was out of options, Jian An’an quickly put on a pitiful act. “I… I’m sorry, I’m just so broke. I can’t pay you, but I also didn’t want to embarrass myself, so…”
“So just because you have problems, you’re docking my pay? Dream on!”
She hadn’t expected Zhou Xiancheng to break script; Jian An’an was momentarily stunned.
“Give me a little time, please. As soon as I have money, I’ll pay you.” Jian An’an pressed her injured hand and got shakily to her feet.
Her white dress was already smeared with black mud, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was for Zhou Xiancheng to agree, to keep him from spilling the secret.
Little did she know, this choice would spell endless trouble for her in the days to come!