Chapter Forty: She Was a Bit Tired Last Night

He noticed that throughout the entire process, Song Wanning’s ears remained flushed red, and even the fine, short hairs on her skin stood on end, making her look irresistibly adorable. Wen Jingxing smiled knowingly but said nothing more, as if he really had come over just to teach Song Wanning how to download the app. As soon as the download was complete, he returned to sit on the bed, leaving Song Wanning completely baffled.

How odd, she thought. Couldn’t he have just taught her from where he was? Why did he have to come all the way over? But soon, Song Wanning’s attention was drawn to a push notification from Weibo, and she eagerly opened it.

It was a trending topic about Jian An’an.

#Famous Female Singer Suspected of Disfigurement#

There was a long post accompanied by a photo—a full-face shot inadvertently captured during Jian An’an’s live stream. The topic was quite popular, with most people focused on how Jian An’an could have suffered such serious injuries. Few expressed genuine concern; most treated it as entertainment, calling Jian An’an a real character. Only a handful of her fans hoped for her speedy recovery.

News of this quickly reached Jian An’an’s agent, and Song Wanning saw the agent’s response on the very next trending topic. The agent declared that if the variety show failed to return Jian An’an unharmed once filming ended, she would hold the production team responsible. The comments were full of people applauding this stance. Only a few questioned why the production team should be blamed when Jian An’an herself had said she fell accidentally, but their voices were drowned out by the tide of criticism, and soon even the kind-hearted commenters fell silent.

While Song Wanning was happily scrolling through the trending posts, Wen Jingxing, under the pretense of being busy with work, actually sought out his assistant and secretary, Chen Shaoyuan.

Wen Jingxing: Have you gotten to the bottom of what’s going on with Jian An’an?

Chen Shaoyuan: Yes, Young Master Wen. It appears Jian An’an has been looking to go solo. She’s recently been at odds with her company over her contract, and her agent, Sister Yu, is involved as well. It seems this has been brewing since last year—they secretly took on a film project behind Sweet’s back, but unfortunately, it didn’t pan out.

Wen Jingxing: Understood. Find out how much it would cost to acquire their company. Do a thorough market analysis beforehand, and keep it as discreet as possible. I want this settled in one go.

Receiving this message, Chen Shaoyuan was left with a look of utter disbelief.

Why on earth would he want to acquire someone else’s company out of the blue?

Could it be because of Jian An’an?

Because his boss was participating in a variety show, Chen Shaoyuan—who usually paid no attention to entertainment news—had started checking Weibo trends and live streams every day.

Wen Jingxing naturally wouldn’t tell him what had transpired today.

So Chen Shaoyuan went to investigate on his own.

But truth be told, the pairing of Young Master Wen and Song Wanning was quite delightful to follow…

Maybe it was because Jian An’an secretly bought trending topics to smear Song Wanning, and Young Master Wen was angry and wanted to help Song Wanning get revenge?

Chen Shaoyuan decided it was safer not to speculate about the boss’s intentions and to simply do his job.

Chen Shaoyuan: Don’t worry, Young Master Wen. I’ll handle this as quickly as possible.

Wen Jingxing: Good. If you succeed, this month’s bonus will be doubled.

Seeing this, Chen Shaoyuan grew even more cheerful. Wen Jingxing was always strict with his employees; this was the first time he’d awarded a double bonus so easily.

Song Wanning scrolled through Weibo until midnight before reluctantly closing her notebook. “It’s getting late. I should hurry to bed.”

The original owner’s body was never very strong, which was why she died young when her heart condition worsened. Song Wanning, however, wanted to live a few more years. After all, it wasn’t easy to get a second chance at life—she wasn’t about to die young now.

Wen Jingxing glanced at the time. “You’re right. Get some rest. And remember to close the door for me.”

“Okay!” Song Wanning nodded and happily returned to her room.

The sixth morning was another carefree day for Song Wanning. Wen Jingxing explained to her the reasons and conditions under which Li Weiwei had allowed him to bring electronic devices. Song Wanning decided to sleep in until she lost all sense of time.

After all, she couldn’t use her phone, going outside was boring, she’d already explored the nearby areas, and she didn’t feel like venturing farther.

So when the cameraman arrived for work, he noticed Song Wanning still hadn’t appeared. Yet, he couldn’t simply not film her.

The director had said that even if she was sleeping, they needed footage for editing later.

But facing Wen Jingxing, the formidable gatekeeper, the cameraman dared not insist.

“Well… um, Young Master Wen, the director said we have to film, we need to shoot Song Wanning,” the cameraman stammered.

Wen Jingxing raised an eyebrow, and the cameraman shivered, half expecting him to get angry at any moment.

But Wen Jingxing merely refrained from smiling, and with his naturally stern expression, he looked rather fierce.

“Wanning had some things to handle last night, so she went to bed especially late. She’s probably still very tired and hasn’t woken up yet. You’d better not go in and disturb her rest.” With that, Wen Jingxing closed the door.

The cameraman stood outside, utterly bewildered.

What did he mean, “went to bed late” and “very tired”…?

Wen Jingxing even seemed genuinely concerned for her, asking not to disturb her sleep.

It felt like he’d just stumbled upon some explosive news!

He didn’t even bother dealing with Li Weiwei and immediately messaged the group.

I Hate Tragic Endings: Are you all at work? I have some news to share.

Diligent but Slacking: Not yet. Jian An’an hasn’t shown up for filming, don’t know what’s going on.

I Hate Tragic Endings: Oh, that’s not important. The main thing is, the director told me to find Song Wanning, but she was sleeping. Young Master Wen opened the door instead and said she went to bed late and is probably very tired, so I shouldn’t disturb her.

Every Day at Work: Damn, is this for real? Did you get it on camera?

I Hate Tragic Endings: Oh no, disaster! I forgot to turn on the camera!

Diligent but Slacking: Hah, if you didn’t record it, maybe you’re just making it up.

I Hate Tragic Endings: How could I possibly make that up!

I Want the World’s Lightest Camera: I don’t believe it unless you recorded it.

No matter how much the cameraman explained in the group, no one believed him.

He was so anxious he could have pulled out his hair, and just then, the door behind him suddenly opened. Out came Wen Jingxing and Song Wanning together.

The cameraman blurted out, “Miss Song, didn’t Young Master Wen say you went to bed late? Why are you up already?”

Song Wanning smiled and explained, “It’s true I went to bed late, but it’s almost nine o’clock. It’s not early anymore.”

The cameraman’s eyes widened. Wen Jingxing was telling the truth!?

But then he remembered—he still hadn’t turned on the camera.

The cameraman: Ahh! Why didn’t I record it again!?

Determined not to miss anything else, he quickly turned the camera on and asked, “Miss Song, are you going somewhere?”

Song Wanning shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Wen Jingxing answered for her, “We’re going somewhere fun.”