Chapter Seventy-One: Throwing Mud

Zhou Xiancheng shrugged and handed his phone to Jian Anan. Forget it, why bother with so much? As long as he gets paid, that’s all that matters. Jian Anan took the phone, then moved away from Zhou Xiancheng to stand at a distance, fiddling with the phone.

Zhou Xiancheng sneered coldly, “What are you up to, sneaking off so far? Afraid I’ll see something?”

“Don’t talk too much, or you won’t get a single cent!”

Zhou Xiancheng wasn’t the least bit afraid of her threats. He found a large stone nearby and sat down comfortably.

Relying on her memory, Jian Anan typed a string of numbers into the phone and sent a message.

[I know you’re in that group. You have the photos and the content. I know I offended you before with my harsh words, but I really need your help now. If you can help me send out the content, I’ll pay you double.]

[If you agree to this, don’t reply to me. I’ll check online tomorrow myself. Once it’s done, you’ll get your reward.]

After sending the message, Jian Anan didn’t even glance at it again. She immediately deleted the record, blocked the number, and then handed the phone back to Zhou Xiancheng.

As Zhou Xiancheng took the phone, he took the opportunity to touch her hand.

He thought to himself, This girl looks so fresh—she’s bold, too, daring to come find me alone. Is she not afraid I might do something?

With that thought, he really did try something. Not content with just a little touch, he stepped closer, reaching for her waist.

Jian Anan happened to step back, evading him. Realizing what he intended, alarm bells rang in her mind.

Damn it! What does this man want from me?

She hurriedly threatened, “Don’t try anything! If you dare come any closer, I’ll expose everything you’ve done. I have plenty of fans—if you push me, we’ll all go down together!”

Zhou Xiancheng had only wanted to scare her a little, never really intending to go further.

“Tch, and here I thought you were braver than that.”

He kept his gaze glued to her, and to be fair, her figure was indeed attractive—he wondered how she’d taste if he ever got the chance...

Jian Anan noticed his eyes lingering on her chest, and she was thoroughly disgusted.

With a look of distaste, she snapped, “Fine, meet me again tomorrow night,” and hurried away.

Zhou Xiancheng watched her retreating back, touching his lips, an evil thought brewing in his mind.

...

Wen Jingxing was supporting the slightly tipsy Song Wanning as they returned to their small villa when he received a call from Chen Shaoyuan.

His brow furrowed. Chen Shaoyuan was always cautious—knowing full well he was filming, he wouldn’t call for no reason. Something serious must have happened.

Just as Wen was about to answer, the call ended. Checking his notifications, he saw that Chen had already called five times before.

He was about to call back when the phone rang again.

Wen answered immediately. “What happened?” he asked bluntly.

“It’s something very serious. It’s about Miss Song,” came Chen Shaoyuan’s grave reply.

Wen’s brow knit tighter. “Out with it. When have you ever been so hesitant?”

“One of our contacts in the media received a tip—a very revealing photo of Miss Song. The information came from Jian Anan. But our people intercepted the news, so Miss Song is safe for now.”

Indeed, the world is a small place.

So small that of all people, Jian Anan found the contact Chen Shaoyuan had planted.

So small that among all the numbers she could remember, she chose his agent’s.

Wen Jingxing instantly understood—this must be the photo Song Wanning had taken at the hot spring.

Hearing Chen’s misunderstanding about Wanning, Wen felt a surge of irritation and explained, “That’s not Wanning’s—it’s Jian Anan’s own photo. If she insists on releasing it in an attempt to damage Wanning’s reputation, then you’d better be ready to gather evidence. If necessary, we’ll take her to court in the Wen family’s name.”

If Wen Jingxing ever took action himself, it meant the matter was beyond salvaging.

He always struck decisively; once you fell into his trap, there was no hope of turning things around.

Chen Shaoyuan was taken aback. Young Master Wen was actually willing to go to court for Miss Song under the Wen family’s name.

If it came to that, the matter could be either serious or trivial.

Handled well, it would show strength and protection. If not, the Wen family could be accused of bullying with power.

And as for that photo—he’d known about it from the start.

Wen Jingxing had never told him who the person in the photo was, just instructed him to handle it.

When Chen Shaoyuan copied the video, he hadn’t even looked at its content. To him, the most important thing was to follow orders without unnecessary questions.

...

Meanwhile, after Wen Jingxing had finally settled Song Wanning on the bed, she heard someone calling her—a very familiar voice—and in her dazed state, she followed the sound.

“Ah Hang... is that you? Did you call me?”

Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes dreamy. She staggered toward Wen Jingxing.

He glanced down to see she wasn’t even wearing shoes and immediately asked, “Where are your shoes? Don’t you know the floor is cold?”

Though he scolded her, he gently lifted her and set her on his own bed.

On the other end, Chen Shaoyuan was startled to hear Wanning call Wen by that familiar nickname.

Had he misheard?

Then he realized he should make himself scarce. “Young Master Wen, I just remembered there’s something urgent to deal with. I’ll hang up now.”

With that, he ended the call.

Wen Jingxing tossed the phone aside and reached out to touch Wanning’s feet. As expected—ice cold.

“Where’s that foot warmer I gave you?”

He asked, but Song Wanning was too muddled to remember. “Maybe... still on the bed? Or under it, perhaps...”

The more she spoke, the guiltier she sounded.

The truth was, that day when she woke up groggy, she had accidentally kicked the hot water bottle under the bed and hadn’t seen it since.

Wen Jingxing watched her sheepish expression—maybe it really was under the bed.

“Sit here and don’t move. I’ll get it for you.”

“No, it’s too dark here, I’m scared,” Song Wanning shook her head desperately.

No one would believe that the formidable empress, who had cut down countless foes, was actually afraid of the dark.

On that moonless, windy night of her previous life, her family was reduced to just her and her younger brother. She fled with him into the night, only to encounter human traffickers.

After finally escaping them, she got lost in the forest and nearly fell prey to wolves. From then on, she developed a deep fear of the night, always feeling as if danger was closing in.