Chapter 1: The Small-Time Star and His Short-Tempered Sugar Daddy (Part I)
PS: The affection is mutual; every pot has its proper lid. This is for extreme Gong-control and Shou-control enthusiasts. If that’s not you, please raise your hands and wave goodbye. Thank you.
“Xiao Ji, I’ll f*ck…”
Fang Yinnian’s curse was barely out of his mouth before a slender, beautiful hand clamped over it.
Xiao Ji’s kiss landed on the side of Fang Yinnian’s neck, his low voice resonating right against his ear:
“Behave, baby. Keep your mouth clean.”
The bedroom windows were wide open. The thin gauze curtains danced in the wind, swaying back and forth relentlessly.
Fang Yinnian felt as though every bone in his body had been dismantled. He lay motionless on the bed, staring at the red scratch marks streaked across Xiao Ji’s naked back. His voice was hoarse:
“Take the money and get lost. Don’t let me see you again.”
Xiao Ji sat on the edge of the bed and lit a cigarette. His tone was indifferent, a stark contrast to the intimacy they had just shared:
“I want resources.”
Fang Yinnian sneered. “What kind of daydream are you living in?”
Xiao Ji didn’t look back, the ember of the cigarette between his fingers flickering in the dim light.
“Reneging on your debt?”
His tone was calm, yet the words made Fang Yinnian’s thighs tremble involuntarily.
Fang Yinnian had never been one to take threats lying down. “If word of what happened today gets out, I will blacklist you from the industry.”
He was just a third-tier small-time star under Fang Yinnian’s own company. To climb into his bed, torment him for an entire night, and then dare to demand resources—it was simply absurd.
Fang Yinnian thought that saying such harsh words would make Xiao Ji angry.
But it didn’t.
Xiao Ji simply stubbed out the cigarette and began changing clothes right in front of him.
He bent down, tossed his own torn shirt aside, picked up Fang Yinnian’s clothes, and casually threw them on.
Truth be told, in all the years Fang Yinnian had run the family entertainment company, he had seen countless handsome men and beautiful women. Logically, he should have been immune to beauty due to aesthetic fatigue.
But Xiao Ji’s face was god-tier.
At this moment, looking at Xiao Ji’s lean, powerful chest, his well-defined but not exaggerated abs, and those two long, straight legs beneath certain impressive assets, Fang Yinnian began to feel hot and thirsty again.
Unfortunately, for his first time, he was already overloaded. If they went another round, he probably wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for three days.
Fang Yinnian watched as Xiao Ji finished dressing, waiting for him to continue arguing for resources.
He had already calculated exactly how he would manipulate Xiao Ji’s next words. Unexpectedly, his mental preparation was wasted.
Xiao Ji simply fastened his belt, bent down to pinch Fang Yinnian’s chin, gave him a brief kiss, and picked up his phone from the nightstand. He dropped one sentence:
“Fine, I’m rolling.”
With that, he turned and left瀟洒ly (dashingly) without looking back.
Under the lamp on the nightstand, the check Fang Yinnian had filled out during a lucid moment in the first half of the night still lay there obediently, untouched and ignored.
Left behind, it took Fang Yinnian a long while to realize the man was truly gone. For a moment, he couldn’t tell who had technically whored out whom.
A sense of powerlessness washed over him. With nowhere to vent his anger, he immediately dialed his secretary, Xiao Lin.
“Where are you?”
At 4:00 AM, Xiao Lin, woken from a deep sleep, was bewildered. “President Fang? I’m at…”
Before he could finish, Fang Yinnian cut him off. It sounded like a casual question, but in reality, he didn’t care where the secretary was.
“Where is Cheng Nuo?”
Xiao Lin was even more confused.
Everyone knew that the Film Emperor Cheng Nuo and Fang Yinnian were childhood friends—brothers. Cheng Nuo’s smooth sailing in the industry over the years was largely due to Fang Yinnian.
If Fang Yinnian didn’t know where Cheng Nuo was, how would a secretary know?
But facing his “bread and butter,” Xiao Lin obviously couldn’t say that out loud. He simply said, “At this time, Film Emperor Cheng should have returned to the film set, right?”
Fang Yinnian let out a cold laugh. “Call him. Tell him I said to die on that set. Don’t let him come back to f*cking see me for the rest of his life.”
Xiao Lin’s heart jumped. “Right now?”
“When else? Wait for New Year’s?” Fang Yinnian snapped.
Xiao Lin was complaining internally, but before he could utter a word of self-preservation, Fang Yinnian hung up and switched off his phone.
When Xiao Ji stepped out of Fang Yinnian’s house, the sky was still dim. Only a few streetlights stood by the road, half-heartedly continuing their work.
Xiao Ji strolled along the road into a 24-hour convenience store. He went in, ordered a few skewers of Oden, sat on a high stool by the window, and began to eat breakfast methodically.
Halfway through, he seemed to suddenly remember something. He paused for a moment, but unfortunately didn’t fully recall it, so he continued eating.
It wasn’t until a burst of static electricity broke through the restraints in Xiao Ji’s mind and emitted a sharp, piercing scream:
[Are you trying to die?! Are you f*cking tired of living?!]
[I told you to capture his heart! To get his true love! I didn’t tell you to sleep with him the moment you arrived!]
Only then did Xiao Ji remember. A short while ago, because he had “business” to attend to, he had blocked the Law Enforcer sent from above to supervise him.
Now, listening to the Law Enforcer, coded 037, howling in his brain, Xiao Ji frowned slightly, feeling that this Enforcer was quite high-maintenance.
[He asked for it himself. You said to take him down.]
037 was speechless.
It regretted this. Truly.
It thought that with its vast experience as a Law Enforcer, there was no one it couldn’t sanction. But facing the current situation, it had to lament that in this day and age, money is hard to earn, and life is a shit sandwich.
Xiao Ji was a block of ten-thousand-year-old glacial ice born in the deep sea. Upon taking human form, he became a god in charge of the law in the Heavens, acting strictly according to the rules.
God knows what the Heavenly Emperor was thinking. Letting Xiao Ji clean up the soul fragments of fugitives in the lower realms was acceptable.
But when the Phoenix, Yin Nian, had his red string of fate tied incorrectly during his tribulation, expecting Xiao Ji to go and set things right—and even delusionally hoping that Yin Nian (who was also no saint) would influence and emotionalize Xiao Ji—was simply unreasonable.
Even more unreasonable was that this “great errand” had fallen squarely onto 037’s head.
After completing the handover procedures, 037 had anxiously prepared to explain the mission rules to Xiao Ji. Instead, it found that Xiao Ji had blocked it and had already executed “justice” on Fang Yinnian right there on the spot.
Seeing that 037 hadn’t spoken for a long time, Xiao Ji asked another question:
[Is there a mistake with the mission target?]
Listen to that. Is that something a human would ask?
The cause and effect were unknown, he didn’t even know who the target was, yet he had already finished the deed.
037 was so angry it felt like vomiting. Gritting its teeth, it said: [No mistake.]
Xiao Ji was confused. [Then what are you yapping about?]
Speechless and exasperated, 037 shoved the original destiny trajectory of Fang Yinnian’s current life into Xiao Ji’s brain all at once, attempting to make him dizzy enough to vomit.
But Xiao Ji remained unmoved. He simply poured milk into his mouth while calmly receiving the information transmitted by 037…
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