Chapter Fifty-Two: Granting Myself a Holiday

The reason Chen Fang helped Wang Situ was simply because he saw a reflection of his former self in her. Back when he was still on Earth, before he started investing in entertainment companies, he was just an inconspicuous trainee in the industry—far more humble than Wang Situ was now.

He was willing to do anything for a shot at fame.

Many people think it’s shameful for actresses to sleep their way to the top. But Chen Fang didn’t see it that way. In fact, he almost envied them. At least those patrons, directors, and producers gave those women a chance to move up. Chen Fang didn’t even have a chance.

More times than he could count, he’d wished a wealthy woman from the industry would take a liking to him—even if it meant scrubbing steel wool every night for her. But unfortunately, that never happened.

His looks and height were unremarkable; the only thing worth noting was that he’d always been hard-working. But effort was useless—a brutal truth. If hard work were enough, those background actors in Hengdian, who work harder than anyone, wouldn’t be scrambling for a ten-yuan boxed meal, flitting from one set to another, rushing over at the director’s call for extras.

Later, when he became the boss of an entertainment company, everyone he met told him, “Mr. Chen, you achieved so much at such a young age!” But in truth, when he was actually young, people around him would say, “This is as far as you’ll ever go in life.” He remembered those days of destitution and embarrassment vividly, every frame, every second, never forgotten.

That was why he chose to help Wang Situ. If, at first, it was simply an appreciation for her long legs, after careful thought, he truly wanted to help her from the heart.

Ji Mei said nothing. Chen Fang’s tone was calm, but for some reason, a faint ache welled up in her chest. Her soft, fair hand gently stroked his hair, as if comforting a child.

Chen Fang closed his eyes to rest. Not long after, the taxi came to a slow stop. Ji Mei finally roused him.

As they stepped out, she asked curiously, “So what if Wang Situ can’t come up with five thousand yuan in two days?”

Chen Fang snorted. “Then we each go our own way. If she can’t produce five thousand, why bother teaming up? An Tinghan paid me a million to write a song!”

He would not allow his partner to be penniless. Of course, Pang Tong was an exception. Back when Chen Fang was broke, Pang Tong had stuck by him out of loyalty.

Ji Mei smiled and said nothing more. The two returned to the villa. It was still early, so she cooked a lavish meal for Chen Fang herself.

His eyes glittered green with anticipation.

Truth be told, aside from women, his greatest passion was eating. Singing? That was just a job. Fine food was what made life worth living.

When Chen Fang sat down and gazed at the exquisite dishes on the table, his expression turned a bit odd. “Are you not planning to sleep tonight?”

There were kidneys, garlic chives, oysters, clams...

There was also a bottle of dark red, translucent liquor on the table. At first, Chen Fang assumed it was red wine, but when he turned the bottle, he saw the bold letters: “Jin Liquor.”

There was Jin Liquor back in China, too. Chen Fang took a sip; the taste was much the same as the one on Earth, though the effects seemed stronger. With just a sip, he felt a rush of heat.

His body, after being strengthened twice by health potions, was as resilient as a golden ox; if he ate all these dishes, someone was sure to pay the price.

“If you’re up for it, then I won’t sleep tonight,” Ji Mei teased, her eyes glistening like waves, crashing against Chen Fang’s reason.

He pulled her into his arms. His reaction was unmistakable, and even through layers of clothing, Ji Mei could feel the heat, so intense it made her restless.

“Let’s agree on something first,” he whispered.

“Agree on what?”

“No crying.”

He nuzzled her ear and chuckled softly.

Her cheeks flushed, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, her alluring eyes full of challenge as she licked her red lips.

How could anyone resist that?

Even the most stoic of saints would struggle, and Chen Fang was no saint.

In the next instant, the living room transformed into a Roman coliseum, clothes flying like loot drops in a game.

It was June. Spring had left the city, but in the villa, it was still in full bloom.

Soon, the living room was a mess. The dishes on the table were barely touched, but the water in the fridge was nearly gone.

After a long while, Chen Fang exhaled deeply, exhaustion swept away. Ji Mei, by contrast, looked worn out, her heaving chest pressing against his. “The food’s getting cold,” she murmured.

Only then did Chen Fang remember. “Let’s eat first, then.”

He picked up his chopsticks, intending to feed her, but in the next moment, Ji Mei, who was sprawled against his chest, slipped under the table, knelt, her face flushed as she gripped him. “I’ll eat this,” she said.

Chen Fang sucked in a breath. Her technique was a little clumsy; the scrape of teeth stung, yet the mix of pain and pleasure was intoxicating.

He never would have imagined Ji Mei had secretly learned this.

This time, it lasted even longer. By the end, Ji Mei’s jaw was sore, and only then did Chen Fang finally relent.

Now the food was completely cold.

After two rounds of release, the fire in Chen Fang’s eyes faded a little.

“I’ll go heat up the food,” Ji Mei said, standing and rubbing her jaw.

Chen Fang pulled her into his arms, asking gently, “Where did you learn that trick?”

“...Short videos.”

“You shouldn’t watch those,” he scolded, feigning seriousness.

Ji Mei thought he was displeased and replied, a little disappointed, “Oh.”

But Chen Fang cupped her cheeks, a mischievous grin on his lips. “Next time, remember to watch them with me. It’s better with two.”

At that, Ji Mei’s face turned bright red.

“Get out!” she said, playfully punching his chest, then hurried off with the dishes to the kitchen.

Watching her retreating figure, Chen Fang felt a profound sense of contentment.

A moment later, Ji Mei returned with the reheated dishes. Seeing her bareness, Chen Fang felt desire flicker again.

She glanced at him, her words stumbling. “Eat first, we’ll talk after.”

Chen Fang obeyed. Ji Mei sat in his lap, both of them bare, feeding each other.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. “The third round of the Starlight Road auditions is over. What’s your next assignment? Will you be the director of the official program?”

Ji Mei shook her head. “I’m on leave now. I probably won’t have work for quite some time.”

In an instant, Chen Fang frowned. He’d already found it odd today at the competition that Ji Mei wasn’t backstage but in the audience. Now it was clear—it must have to do with her extended leave.