Chapter 81: A Guilty Conscience

Even as Lian Youyou gazed at the plump little corgi that Lu Ming placed in her arms, she felt as if she were dreaming.

After settling the bill, Lian Youyou cradled the dog while Lu Ming carried bags filled with household necessities. The shop owner helped them lift the dog house, delivering it all the way to their car.

Seated in the car, Lian Youyou placed the corgi on her lap, gently stroking its soft fur as she asked, "Why did you suddenly decide to give me a gift?"

"To apologize to you," Lu Ming replied.

"Did you do something wrong to me?"

Lian Youyou couldn't think of what Lu Ming might have done recently to warrant an apology.

Lu Ming said, "Because I lied to you for so long, not telling you that I was the president of Haohan. I wanted to apologize. After we started seeing each other, I considered telling you the truth, but I never found the right moment."

"You’re so wealthy—why did you become a teacher at the school?"

He certainly couldn’t tell her that he’d done it to protect her daughter. Besides, it was nothing to boast about, especially since he hadn’t managed to protect her daughter as he’d intended.

Lu Ming casually offered an excuse: "The more skills you have, the more opportunities you find. Look, now that I’ve lost my job at Haohan, I still have my teaching position."

Clearly, he was brushing her off.

She had so many other questions—like, since Haohan was founded by Lu Zhijun, why was the chairman his nephew Lu Feng, not his own son Lu Ming? And when she went to audition for ‘Chronicles of the Martial World,’ was it Lu Feng or Lu Ming who let her advance directly?

But since Lu Ming was deliberately avoiding the topic, she decided not to press him. No matter what, she trusted the man before her.

The next day, Lian Youyou chose the film she wanted to audition for and scheduled a meeting with Richard to discuss it at Xincheng.

As she waited for the elevator, she happened upon two other artists from Xincheng: Yang Chuyao and Song Caiwen.

As the youngest in the company, Lian Youyou smiled politely at them. "Good morning, Sister Yang, Sister Song."

Second-tier Song Caiwen nodded in acknowledgment, but top-tier Yang Chuyao not only ignored her, she even rolled her eyes.

Such hostility so early in the morning?

The three entered the elevator together. As Lian Youyou reached to press the floor button, Yang Chuyao blocked her hand and pressed it first. Seeing that Yang Chuyao had chosen the top floor, Lian Youyou refrained from pressing another.

Inside the elevator, Song Caiwen asked, "Sister Yang, I heard you’re auditioning for the film ‘Homesick’?"

What a coincidence…

That was the very film Lian Youyou intended to discuss with Richard today, hoping to win the female lead.

Yang Chuyao glanced at Song Caiwen with disdain. "What, are you planning to audition too?"

"No, no, I wouldn’t dare go for a director’s film," Song Caiwen waved her hands, "I don’t have that kind of experience yet."

Despite her own reputation, Song Caiwen became utterly meek before Yang Chuyao.

Yang Chuyao smirked, "Glad you know your place."

The name Xiang Gaoxian was legendary. One of the era’s most renowned directors, he had won countless international awards. Every film he directed became a hit, and all actors he launched were dubbed ‘Xiang’s Men’ or ‘Xiang’s Women.’

Xiang Gaoxian’s achievements were no accident or marketing ploy. Lian Youyou remembered him vividly from his early days as a fresh graduate—his sharp mind, striking use of color contrasts, and bold compositions made him distinctive.

Throughout the exchange, Yang Chuyao never glanced at Lian Youyou, treating her as if she were invisible.

The top floor housed only Richard’s office, so the three arrived together and knocked before entering.

Richard, just finishing paperwork handed over by his secretary, looked up to see all three entering and was pleasantly surprised. "Well, what’s this? Three beautiful ladies together today?"

They exchanged glances, unsure who should speak first.

Lian Youyou broke the silence. "I’m not in a hurry. Sister Yang and Sister Song, please go ahead."

"Alright," Richard capped his Montblanc pen, gesturing for Yang Chuyao and Song Caiwen to sit. "You two first."

Song Caiwen obediently adjusted her skirt and took a seat opposite his desk. Glancing at Yang Chuyao still standing, she felt uneasy—how could she sit comfortably when her senior remained standing? So, Song Caiwen quickly got up again.

Richard observed Yang Chuyao’s stern expression. "Chuyao, you seem upset today."

"Not at all," Yang Chuyao replied coldly, producing a resignation letter and placing it on the desk. "President Li, next week both my contract and Caiwen’s expire. We’re resigning."

"Oh?" Richard was somewhat surprised, but not shocked.

He looked at Song Caiwen, whose head was lowered so deeply she seemed to wish she could bury it in sand.

Richard didn’t take the resignation letter, calmly asking, "Last month we discussed this. Both of you seemed eager to renew your contracts then."

Yang Chuyao’s face seemed more petulant than resolute. "We agreed to renew, but we never signed. We’ve considered it and decided not to pursue further opportunities here."

Truthfully, Xincheng’s selection process for artists was extremely strict—signing with Xincheng was difficult, and most artists fought tooth and nail for the chance. Lian Youyou had never seen anyone leave upon contract expiration, like Yang Chuyao.

Richard’s voice, deepened by years, turned to Song Caiwen: "And you, Caiwen? Are you switching agencies too?"

Whether moved by Richard’s tone, feeling ashamed, or simply overwhelmed by his kindness, Song Caiwen began to cry, head bowed. "I’m sorry… President Li… Thank you for everything over the years…"

Richard shook his head with a helpless smile, handing her a tissue. "There’s nothing to cry about, Caiwen. Everyone has their own path—I won’t hold it against you. No need to apologize."

In stark contrast to Song Caiwen’s tears, Yang Chuyao’s brows were furrowed with anger.

Something felt off, but Lian Youyou couldn’t put her finger on it.

"Take your resignation back," Richard pushed the letter back toward Yang Chuyao, "Your contract is expiring anyway, so it’s not really resignation."

Yang Chuyao’s hand reached for the letter, but Richard pressed his fingers down a bit harder.

"Are you sure, Chuyao, Caiwen?" Richard asked. "If you choose to leave now, there’s no going back."

His words were a warning not to act rashly. Once they left Xincheng voluntarily, other agencies might not want them either.

If they disregarded the industry’s top company, who would dare take on artists so full of themselves?

Yang Chuyao snatched the resignation, crumpled it, and tossed it in the trash. "I’m sure. President Li, that’s all—I’ll leave now."

With that, she strode out, dragging Song Caiwen, who was still crying.

Lian Youyou, quick-eyed, saw Song Caiwen’s phone left on the desk and hurried after them, calling out in the corridor to return it.

"Sister Song, your phone."

"Thank you, Youyou," Song Caiwen wiped her tears, her voice hoarse from crying. "You really are a good girl."

Seeing Song Caiwen cry so bitterly, Lian Youyou felt she was leaving unwillingly.

"Sister Song, why are you leaving Xincheng? Are the resources bad, or is President Li mistreating the artists…?"

Song Caiwen was about to reply when she glanced timidly at Yang Chuyao.

Yang Chuyao folded her arms, glaring at Song Caiwen, then turned sharply to Lian Youyou. "Do you want to know why we’re leaving Xincheng? It’s all because of you, Lian Youyou!"

She’d barely interacted with them since joining the company—how could she have harmed them?

Yang Chuyao’s gaze was fierce. "Don’t pretend to be innocent! You know perfectly well your relationship with President Li! There are plenty in the company more talented and prettier than you—so why does President Li give you first pick of the best resources?"

Once again, she was misunderstood as Richard’s ‘goddaughter.’

Ah, such rumors are impossible to clear.

"Because—"

"What, can’t answer?" Yang Chuyao cut her off. "You hog all the best opportunities and pretend to be nice? I’m not interested in picking over your leftovers. So I’d rather leave than stay in a place like this!"