Chapter 193: Fan Xiaopang

Late June, just before leaving "The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng," Hua Yi's final offer finally arrived.

Female lead in "Mo Gong" plus two film contracts.

To be honest, it was roughly what Yan Li and the others had expected—even slightly lower—and Fan Xiaopang had briefly thought Feng Xiaogang's "Night Banquet" was part of the package.

"They still don't treat me like a person."

Fan Xiaopang fumed; the casting for "Night Banquet" was in full swing, and as Hua Yi's most expensive project ever, it drew intense public attention.

The Four Little Fairies and Li Bingbing, along with several top female stars from Hong Kong and Taiwan, were all hot candidates.

Even if Hua Yi tried to keep Fan Xiaopang with "Night Banquet," it wouldn't work—but the fact they didn't even offer "Night Banquet" as a retention tool left Fan genuinely disheartened.

"Be grateful—you've got at least one 'Mo Gong.' The number-one actress is worse off."

Yan Li couldn't help complaining—he'd just spoken with Li Bingbing and her sister the day before and yesterday, and Hua Yi's offer to them was even lower.

Hua Yi clearly counted on Li Bingbing's loyalty, assuming she wouldn't jump ship with Wang Jinghua, so their retention package only promised to solidify her film industry status, offer fashion and commercial resources, and dangled a vague promise of international breakthrough.

And that was it.

All empty words and flattery—they withheld the concrete "Night Banquet" project from their own number-one actress.

If Fan Xiaopang turned down "Mo Gong," the role might well go to Li Bingbing.

Yan Li even felt a little sorry for Li Bingbing, the number-one actress.

The Four Little Fairies' Xiao Yanzi and Zhang Ziyi might overshadow her, but the other two and the crop of young Hong Kong and Taiwan stars simply couldn't match Li Bingbing's film credentials—she'd starred in "Cell Phone" and "No Man's Land."

Li Bingbing's attitude was barely acceptable; Li Xue, however, was openly resentful.

She ranted to Yan Li over the phone for ages, even saying, "No wonder Hua Jie left."

Yan Li came up with a shrewd idea for the Li sisters: use Chengtian to pressure Hua Yi.

For example, if Chengtian announced a major project for Li Bingbing, it might heighten Hua Yi's sense of crisis and win Li Bingbing better terms.

Li Xue was unsure, but Yan Li believed in asking high and settling low.

Hua Yi's artists are nearly all gone; Li Bingbing stayed out of loyalty—surely they owe her real rewards.

If they won't negotiate on resources, at least give her a "loyalty bonus"—even a few million wouldn't be too much.

Besides Li Bingbing, Li Xue should also push hard—Wang Jinghua left, and Hua Yi now has no senior figure in artist management.

If Li Xue seizes this chance to rise, it benefits both her personal career and their collective influence within the company.

Also, stay—but don't renew your contract. Renewal is fine, but that's a different price.

Li Bingbing's contract has two years left; after this earthquake, Hua Yi won't recover in two years. When they can't hold her, they'll have to pay heavily to keep her.

Don't empathize with capitalists—grab the opportunity and squeeze them dry.

Yan Li talked sentiment to Fan Xiaopang, but with Hua Yi, he urged the Li sisters to demand money, power, and resources.

It disrupted Hua Yi, and the Li sisters felt he genuinely cared for them, deepening their trust.

In fact, they did treat him like a strategist.

After Hua Yi made its offer, they called Yan Li—not to inform him, but to ask for advice.

First, one of Li Bingbing's key career turning points was shaped by Yan Li's efforts; the "Two Lis" rivalry stunt brought her real benefits—the revolutionary bond is real.

Second, Yan Li's ability and status made the Li sisters trust him, and he could better read the intentions of the Wang brothers, fellow film company bosses.

Third, they had no conflicting interests; instead, they'd collaborated before. As a friend, Yan Li stood firmly on their side.

And Yan Li's advice genuinely prioritized the Li sisters' interests, devising ways to extract value from Hua Yi.

Hua Yi's feelings were unclear, but the Li sisters were quite satisfied.

Li Xue aside—even Li Bingbing, who'd been subtly avoiding Yan Li since their "Two Lis" reunion on New Year's Eve—said she'd treat him to drinks when he returned to Beijing.

Too bad she specified alone—if both sisters invited him together, that'd be better…

Fan Xiaopang poked Yan Li, frowning: "What scheme are you cooking up? You've got that sleazy grin."

"Nonsense."

Yan Li instinctively touched his mouth, then realized he'd been tricked—he'd thought his facial control was better than that.

"What sleazy grin? I was thinking about the drama I'm setting up for you."

That shifted Fan Xiaopang's focus: "Got a project?"

"Mm."

Yan Li had promised Fan Xiaopang he'd create a drama centered on her as the female lead after she joined.

Originally, he'd considered delaying it to next year due to insufficient funds.

But Yi'an's previous projects had released smoothly; "The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng" and "The Investiture of the Gods" were both highly sought after by TV stations, leaving the company's accounts flush and investors eager—so there was no reason to delay.

"We have two scripts ready: one is our in-house writer's palace intrigue drama, 'The Great Qing Imperial Harem,' set in the Daoguang era."

"I read the script—it has echoes of 'Empresses in the Palace,' decent quality."

"The other is wuxia: 'The White-Haired Demoness.' It's a classic—you've probably heard of it; Lin Qingxia, Cai Shaofen, and Jiang Qinqin have all played it."

"Wuxia is hot right now; we have experience. If you're willing to take it, all conditions are ripe. A smash isn't guaranteed, but you'll definitely get visibility."

"…."

To be fair, Yan Li wasn't especially satisfied with either project—he felt something was missing.

But at this stage, finding a female-led drama that suits Fan Xiaopang and leans commercial isn't easy.

Family dramas are out—no daughter-in-law, mother-of-children, or broke-newlywed couples; none help Fan Xiaopang now or fit Yi'an's packaging strategy.

Similarly, niche, obscure genres are eliminated. Only modern urban, ancient costume, and Republican-era dramas truly qualify.

Yi'an has received other scripts, but none satisfied them—these two are already the best.

Republican-era scripts are mostly tragic love stories, occasionally adding national or historical elements, but hard to make compelling.

Modern urban dramas currently have no standout scripts in mainland China.

The mainland's white-collar class has only just emerged; many screenwriters lack any concept of urban drama.

If they must do this genre, Yan Li considered acquiring scripts from Hong Kong.

Even without considering other factors, Hong Kong still leads the mainland in professional urban-themed content.

But Hong Kong and the mainland differ greatly; scripts brought back would need rewriting, and cultural adaptation remains uncertain.

Ancient costume dramas cover a vast range—palace intrigue, wuxia, tragic romance, historical epics—vast creative space, and higher TV prices.

"Take a look at these two first. If you're not satisfied, we'll keep talking—besides these, we have one half-finished script and one outline."

Fan Xiaopang was fine with it—these days, no actor expects every project to be a hit; actors cast widely. She'd seen far worse scripts before.

"The Great Qing Imperial Harem" and "The White-Haired Demoness" both have substantial budgets and exceed industry standards.

In the industry, these are already good projects.

Many top young actresses don't get such "tailor-made" treatment—most just take whatever comes, with only slightly more choice.

Take Sun Li, currently on "The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng"—she's practically a half-company number-one actress, at least the most heavily promoted young star.

But Hai Run never promised her anything tailor-made—just tried to assign her the most suitable roles from confirmed projects, or if two comparable projects existed, gave priority to the one with a fitting role for her.

Yan Li offered her two mid-to-large-scale productions with absolute lead female roles, letting her choose—clearly, his promise to push her hard isn't empty talk.

And even this, Yan Li wasn't satisfied—he was still considering other projects.

At Fan Xiaopang's curious prompting, Yan Li revealed the half-finished script and the outline.

The outline was an idea from Yi'an's writing team, blending the popular time-travel element.

It was originally proposed by a screenwriter named Zuo Le—he'd brought a time-travel "sleeping on brushwood and tasting gall" script during his interview, and now he proposed another time-travel concept, this time with a woman as the protagonist.

The target is Chen Yuanyuan, weaving her tangled love affairs with historical figures from the late Ming and early Qing dynasties—perfect for tragic romance and historical drama, packed with appeal.

Also, Chen Yuanyuan as a "beauty who brings disaster" is undeniably gorgeous, fitting Fan Xiaopang's image.

In contrast, the half-finished script was more "down-to-earth."

A traditional historical drama, starring Yang Guifei, titled in Yi'an's signature "Legend Series"—"The Legend of Yang Yuhuan."

As previously mentioned, Yi'an plans to highlight Fan Xiaopang's beauty—what kind of beauty, what kind of role.

What's more iconic than the Four Great Beauties?!

Yi'an plans a "Beauty Multi-Series" for Fan Xiaopang: start with "The Legend of Yang Yuhuan," then follow with "The Legend of Wu Zetian," "The Legend of Diaochan," "The Legend of Li Shishi," and so on.

Oh, and that outline could also be adapted into a historical drama titled "The Legend of Chen Yuanyuan."

Whether they'll shoot the later legends is uncertain, but "The Legend of Yang Yuhuan" will almost certainly be made.

Yan Li always felt Fan Xiaopang's physique and aura were perfect for portraying Tang palace beauties.

"I plan a substantial investment in 'The Legend of Yang Yuhuan'—it's a flagship project. The script needs serious polishing. If you're willing to wait, let's do this one."

Yan Li recommended Fan Xiaopang take this role.

Yang Guifei's name carries weight—great for promotion and sales; arguably the most promising of all these projects for a smash hit.

"Uh, can I shoot one first, then wait while filming?"

Fan Xiaopang was interested in "The Legend of Yang Yuhuan," but didn't want to pass up the other two.

If she could manage it, she wanted to do both; if not, one was fine.

Maybe one would explode; if not, more pay and more screen time still helped.

"…."

Yan Li was speechless—eating from one bowl while eyeing another, this girl was greedy.

Fan Xiaopang replied confidently: "I'm just trying to help the company earn more money—the more I shoot, the more you, Boss Yan, earn."

That was true!

From a boss's perspective, Yan Li loved Fan Xiaopang's relentless, hardworking spirit.

"Alright—if you can't handle both, I suggest choosing 'The White-Haired Demoness.' 'The Legend of Yang Yuhuan' will have plenty of palace intrigue scenes, which overlap with 'The Great Qing Imperial Harem.'"

Yan Li laid out his thoughts; Fan Xiaopang thought for a moment and nodded: "I'll follow your advice."

"Mm."

Yu Yanli pinched his fingers to calculate: "Hua Jie's side will probably take one or two months—September or October—your contract should arrive then. The terms will follow what we agreed on, and we'll throw you a grand signing ceremony."

After so much planning, the terms regarding Fan Xiaopang had long been settled.

Five-year contract, sixty-forty split: company sixty, Fan forty.

And within two to three years, if Fan Xiaopang meets certain contract benchmarks, the split will shift to fifty-fifty, or even forty-sixty—with Fan taking the larger share.

This contract was extremely generous—and the key reason it won Fan Xiaopang over.

All the fancy talk in the world means nothing compared to real money: annual earnings of several million, even tens of millions—ten percent alone means millions.

Yu Yanli didn't feel cheated. Compared to Huayi, Yi'an still lacked depth; Fan Xiaopang was a top rising star—accepting a standard seventy-thirty split would be an insult.

The later concessions were also meant to better win Fan Xiaopang over.

In the future, Fan Xiaopang will only grow more popular, eventually standing alone—her confidence will swell, and if you don't give her a cut, she'll walk.

Don't think six-four becoming four-six means less money. If Fan Xiaopang becomes big enough, even a thirty-seventy split would earn her more than before.

Yu Yanli didn't plan to treat Fan Xiaopang like a fat lamb, squeezing her dry over a few years and then discarding her. He knew her true value from the system—if possible, he wanted a long-term partnership.

When the five-year contract ends, if Fan Xiaopang stays with Yi'an, that's best. If not, Yu Yanli would help her start her own company and pursue another form of deep collaboration.

This wasn't written into the contract, but both sides had reached mutual agreement.

A boss must provide the money and resources—and shouldn't shy away from painting big pictures.

"How grand?"

Fan Xiaopang was intrigued by Yu Yanli's signing ceremony idea. Yu Yanli thought for a moment.

"At least a million yuan minimum."

Right now, everyone was doing these high-profile signing ceremonies—showing respect for the artist, demonstrating the company's financial strength, and serving as great publicity.

Fan Xiaopang loved the spotlight. Though she thought the money would be better given directly, the chance to go all out made her eager.

"What style? How about a queen's coronation? Or a goddess descending? Or throw me a birthday party—September's my birthday anyway."

Fan Xiaopang enthusiastically suggested. Yu Yanli retorted: "Why not wear a wedding dress, let your dad walk you down, and 'marry' our company?"

"Hey, that's not a bad idea."

Fan Xiaopang's eyes lit up: "You're the boss—you play the groom. It's both a signing and a wedding. Invite Dong Xuan and Qin Lan as guests. Hey, why are you running—"

Yu Yanli hurried away. If he didn't run, he feared Qin Lan would sneak poison into his drink.

"Coward."

Fan Xiaopang sniffed, then reconsidered the wedding-signing idea—it was actually pretty thrilling.

Then she imagined Qin Lan and Dong Xuan forced to watch helplessly from below—it was utterly exhilarating. But if she really did it, those two wouldn't sit still—they'd storm the stage.

————

At the end of June, Fan Xiaopang officially wrapped filming and left the set, busy with accumulated events and commercial engagements.

Then she prepared to join a new film Yu Yanli had negotiated for her—*The Tokyo Trial*.

Huayi had released Liu Tianwang's *Mo Gong*. Yu Yanli couldn't rely solely on TV dramas—he needed to get Fan Xiaopang some film exposure.

Though Yu Yanli had few film resources, he wasn't completely empty-handed.

For instance, *The Tokyo Trial*, directed by Gao Qunshu—a longtime contact of Yu Yanli's. He leveraged his connections and added some resources to successfully place Fan Xiaopang in the cast.

But Fan's role in this film was minor, and Yu Yanli didn't take it too seriously.

After Fan Xiaopang wrapped, Yu Yanli was also nearing his countdown—even *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng* was expected to end in July.

Filming began March 12, totaling over four months—for a 40-episode wuxia drama, that was slow.

But slower still was *The Return of the Condor Heroes*: it started filming last October and only wrapped in mid-April, shooting sporadically for about half a year.

Of course, they had multiple location changes and several pauses, wasting considerable time.

*The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng* also shot many exterior scenes, but far fewer than the other, and used multiple crews, saving much time.

In comparison, *The Investiture of the Gods* started earlier and had fewer episodes.

But due to numerous war ensemble scenes, its wrap date might be later than *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng*.

Broadcast timing would be even slower—so many special effects meant lengthy post-production. Even if everything went smoothly, it wouldn't air until next summer.

*The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng* should air much earlier—likely early next year, at the latest by mid-year.

Exact timing depends on post-production progress and scheduling alongside *The Return of the Condor Heroes*.

Yu Yanli and Zhang Dahuzi had stirred up a media frenzy over the "Feathered Phoenix vs. Condor" rivalry—but their goal was mutual profit, not a bitter feud.

So most likely, the two won't air simultaneously, but won't be too far apart either—otherwise, they couldn't leverage each other's buzz.

Yu Yanli's idea: space them one or two months apart. That way, there's competition without direct head-on clash, avoiding ugly battles that hurt overall ratings.

Zhang Dahuzi hadn't responded yet, but it shouldn't be a problem.

If he refuses to cooperate and tries to ride *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng*'s coattails, Yu Yanli isn't afraid.

Let him try!

Honestly, if he beat Zhang Dahuzi, he'd gain face; if he lost, he wouldn't lose face—after all, the experience gap wasn't minor.

Of course, his earlier "boastful words" would be mocked by some—but Yu Yanli had thick skin. As long as he made money, he wouldn't care.

Hengdian, guesthouse room

Yu Yanli sat cross-legged below, bare-chested, revealing a muscular, well-built upper body. Beside him, Zeng Li blushed, holding a small whip, eager to strike.

She'd probably seen Yu Yanli's shirtless scenes in *The Investiture of the Gods* while visiting the neighboring set.

The more she saw, the more she thought: such a great physique shouldn't go unseen.

So *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng* was given a shirtless scene.

The plot was reasonable: after cultivating demonic arts, the side effects required self-punishment—sometimes alone, sometimes by his subordinate, Sha Man.

For maximum effect, being whipped bare-skinned made sense—and subtly hinted at Gong Jiu's forbidden lust for Sha Man, who resembled his late mother.

These directors were all masters of interpretation, pulling elaborate justifications out of thin air.

They even slapped on labels: *The Investiture of the Gods* was the adopted son. Yu Yanli showed skin there—why shouldn't the biological son, *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng*, do the same?

Yu Yanli hesitated long, but finally agreed to sacrifice himself—on one condition: only one scene.

Even with mental preparation, seeing Zeng Li in gauzy robes, whip in hand, still made him flinch.

This was far more embarrassing than *The Investiture of the Gods*…

Even during setup, he stayed silent, closing his eyes as if meditating—out of sight, out of mind.

"Boss Yu, shall I start?"

The director signaled ready. Zeng Li whispered a reminder. Yu Yanli didn't answer, just gave a faint "Mm."

The whip wouldn't actually strike—just mimicked the motion. It looked brutal, but never landed. Even the rare hits were painless.

Though it didn't hurt, Yu Yanli still had to act pained. As a dark sect boss, he couldn't cry out.

So he just frowned, sweated slightly, and occasionally let out muffled groans.

That was fine—but whenever he groaned, Zeng Li couldn't help laughing or blushing, forcing retakes.

Because in the plot, Sha Man had struck Gong Jiu before, and the scene hinted at lust—so her emotions should be calm, numb, even slightly resentful.

Thus, Sha Man had to control her expression and maintain precise physical boundaries.

She feared Gong Jiu, and this act was meant to delay the demonic arts' side effects—so she couldn't strike too hard, or it would contradict their relationship.

But she couldn't strike too lightly either—it would look like flirting and fail to show Gong Jiu's hidden cruelty.

After much adjustment, Zeng Li finally found the right tone. Yu Yanli was both speechless and relieved.

Thank goodness it was Zeng Li—someone unrelated to him. If Fan Xiaopang, Qin Lan, or Wang Ou had played this role, chaos would've erupted.

Wang Ou wouldn't dare. Qin Lan was unpredictable. But Fan Xiaopang—that wild woman—might "misjudge" and land two real lashes.

After enduring the scene, Yu Yanli opened his eyes—and saw Qin Lan watching, her face twisted between sourness and amusement.

Oh no.

Sure enough, that night, Qin Lan returned home and said she wanted to play too.

Last time she tied him up, she hadn't dared to strike—now Zeng Li had beaten her to it. It was unbearable. She had to whip Yu Yanli herself.

Yu Yanli's face darkened. He had a feeling this scene would become his "black history"—those women would never let him live it down.

"Come on, come on, please?"

Qin Lan kept pouting. Yu Yanli refused: "No whip—but how about other kinds of whips?"

"..."

Qin Lan turned to flee, but Yu Yanli grabbed her. "Want to whip me? First, let me whip you…"

…

Another day passed. Qin Lan packed her things, preparing to leave the set.

Wang Ou was gone. Fan Xiaopang had left. Qin Lan's guard was down—no need to stick around until wrap.

Mostly because her agent, Lü Jie, was pushing hard: *The Song Dynasty Chief Inspector* was a ratings hit, and she had plenty of new jobs.

Her roles in *The Investiture of the Gods* and *The Legend of Lu Xiaofeng* were minor—barely a month's shoot each. Yet she'd dragged it out this long. If Qin Lan weren't protected, Lü Jie would've stormed Hengdian long ago.

Of course, another reason was that one beast was just too beastly.

He tormented her every night. She was truly worn out.

If not for Yu Yanli's occasional trips back to Beijing, her monthly cycle as a buffer, his restraint out of pity, his "snacking without satisfying" approach, and his rivalry with Fan Xiaopang, she'd have fled long ago.

Qin Lan's tacit acceptance of Yu Yanli's promiscuity—ignoring Wang Ou, turning a blind eye to Dong Xuan—was also due to this.

One person simply couldn't handle it!

He was a reincarnated workhorse—and getting worse.

Short-term pleasure, long-term torment.

Qin Lan also has the advantage of recovering quickly; if Yan Li holds back, he can sustain it for a long time.

Dong Xuan can't handle it—she once even moved back to the dorm to avoid him, and another time nearly lost her temper and chased Yan Li away to find someone else.

Yan Li himself felt fine; he thought his physical enhancement hadn't been that dramatic lately—certainly nowhere near Xiao Chaoren's level—and it was probably more about improved technique.

Back when he was young, he knew less, and just buried himself in hard work, managing to exert only half of his full ability.

Now, with more experience, combining raw strength and technique, he achieves twice the result with half the effort—his full ten points of ability can now be stretched to fifteen or more.

People really must grow!

Yan Li flipped through the newly triggered July monthly intelligence: "Heaven-Turning, Earth-Shaking One Hundred and Eight Forms," and figured that once he mastered it thoroughly, his ability could reach twenty points.

He carefully stored this most important intelligence and flipped through the remaining useful reports.

"2009 Popular TV Drama 'The Snail House'"

Yan Li studied the intelligence in detail—it was adapted from a novel, not yet released, but he remembered the screenwriter/author's name, Liu Liu, and planned to look her up later.

"2008 Financial Crisis Timeline"

Yan Li was speechless—the system was truly afraid he'd get crushed in this financial crisis, having triggered related intelligence three times already, yearly and monthly.

He grumbled aloud, but he also realized this financial crisis was indeed brutal—many had lost everything, even their families and lives; he had to be careful.

"2009 New Four Little Fairies: Liu Tianxian, Huang Shengyi, Yang Mi, Wang Luodan Elected"

Wow~

Yan Li was surprised by these four selections—Liu Tianxian was understandable; she was already very popular now, and any future selection of the Four Little Fairies would have to include her.

Huang Shengyi's momentum from "Kung Fu Hustle" couldn't last that long—she must have a new project coming.

Wang Luodan—he recalled that shy little junior sister, who'd recently joined Hai Run; he hadn't expected she'd one day become one of the Four Little Fairies.

Two students from the same 2001 class at Beijing Film Academy becoming Four Little Fairies? Remarkable.

As for Yang Mi… Yan Li didn't know her.

Yan Li searched past intelligence—her name appeared once, briefly, with no concrete details.

She must be a rising star—he noted her name and planned to ask around later.

Aside from these, the other intelligence items were relatively ordinary, so Yan Li skimmed them daily.

But Huang Shengyi's appearance today reminded Yan Li of someone else.

After their last conversation, she hadn't replied to him again, only sent a few brief text greetings.

She must have made her choice!

Yan Li wasn't too surprised—he'd anticipated this from the start; after all, they'd had deep conversations, and he understood this junior sister fairly well.

Short-sighted, greedy, easily swayed, and dim-witted.

The first two weren't unusual—most people were like that—but combined with the last two, it became troublesome.

Yan Li believed he'd given her plenty of help—he'd done his part by their relationship. If Huang Shengyi chose another path, then fine: each walks their own road.

As for the Four Little Fairies—Fan Xiaopang was already chasing the real thing; why care about a few "counterfeits" years down the line?

If Yan Li were willing to throw money and resources into it, Wang Ou might even claim one of those spots herself.

Yan Li remembered Wang Ou was only half a year older than Huang Shengyi—she'd definitely be within the eligibility range.

Hmm…

Yan Li was genuinely curious—what would his little junior sister feel if Wang Ou replaced Huang Shengyi?

…

But Yan Li had no energy to dwell on Huang Shengyi—his next opponent was about to enter the battlefield.

After Wang Ou, Fan Xiaopang, and Qin Lan had all left the group, Wu Jiani looked around and realized her spring had arrived.

Heaven had mercy on her—Wu Jiani felt she'd suffered too much.

Because her senior, Wang Ou, was too weak, constantly suppressed by Fan Xiaopang and Qin Lan.

She herself hadn't even gotten a glimpse of bone, and after brief contact with Yan Li, she'd instantly become a background extra among extras.

Now that the three towering figures above her were gone, Yan Li seemed uninterested in Zeng Li and Sun Li, who remained.

Wu Jiani believed this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Miss this chance, and relying on Wang Ou, that useless waste, to make connections? By then, the tea would be cold.

Wu Jiani had even doubted that before she could even connect with Yan Li, Wang Ou would already be kicked out—fine, she'd do it herself.

Taking advantage of the wrap of the "Phoenix Dancing in the Nine Heavens" unit—where Yan Li played Gong Jiu and she played Beef Soup—Wu Jiani invited Yan Li out for karaoke.

She chose karaoke because it was her personal hobby—she loved singing—and it was also one of the main group activities, making it easy to suggest.

More importantly, a karaoke room was a perfect place.

Once the music played, no one outside could hear; lights dimmed, the interior grew dim, alcohol could be served to heighten the mood, and the atmosphere became lively—far more relaxed than dinner.

She'd learned this trick from Wang Ou before—but last time it was just a test; this time, it was an upgrade.

Wu Jiani feared Yan Li might refuse a private invite, so she pulled a small trick—telling him she'd invited several others, but when he arrived, she was the only one in the room.

"They had last-minute plans and left."

"Oh, what bad luck."

Yan Li set down his bag containing safety supplies: "Just us two singing? Boring. Let's play a little game."

"What game?"

Despite the perfect plan and smooth progress, being alone with Yan Li still made Wu Jiani blush and tense up.

"There's dice here—just us two. Simple game: roll for high or low. Loser gets punished."

"What kind of punishment?"

"Whatever I feel like—drinking, singing, performing… no forced penalties. If you can't accept it, we can switch."

"Fine."

Wu Jiani thought Yan Li's suggestion was good—she had to go through with it now; regret was useless.

Yan Li picked up the karaoke room's dice, and they took turns rolling, comparing numbers directly.

He had no intention to cheat, nor could he cheat—win or lose didn't matter; the goal was to bridge the gap and liven the mood.

In the first few rounds, they won and lost alternately, punishments mostly involving drinking. When they felt the pace was right, Yan Li downed two glasses and finally won again.

He studied Wu Jiani, watching her face turn red, before speaking slowly.

"You graduated from Beijing Dance Academy, right? I want to see you dance."

"... lright."

Wu Jiani hesitated, too shy to perform anything too sensual like Latin dance, and chose a simple folk dance instead.

Just as she was about to begin, Yan Li stopped her, stood up, and went to the song selection screen to pick a pure instrumental track as accompaniment.

"..."

Wu Jiani finally understood why Wang Ou said Yan Li knew how to play—she gave him a half-irritated glance but obediently began dancing.

Yan Li leaned back on the sofa, watching the beauty dance, sipping his wine contentedly.

Elegant!

(End of Chapter)