Chapter 245: Another Ice, a Thoughtful and Considerate Wang Ou

Late October, Love Transfer began filming, and Yu Yanli appeared as producer at the ceremony.

This film had a very short preparation period.

Probably after summer vacation, host Liu Yiwei had the idea, began gathering a script, then connected with China Film Group, brought in Yu Yanli, and once the team and funding were in place, they started shooting.

The estimated shooting schedule was only about a month, with each cameo actress allocated one or two days, or at most three.

This pace had a hint of the old Hong Kong New Year films, though Hong Kong was even more efficient—could wrap and release within one or two months.

Love Transfer had little chance of making this year's New Year slot, and couldn't possibly compete at the box office with big films like The Golden Armor.

So it was slated for release in February next year, around Spring Festival, riding the holiday and Valentine's Day wave.

Big profits were out of the question, but a modest return was still possible.

Though it was a small-scale production, the cast was still impressive.

The Teddy Sisters group contributed the most, sending four: Ma Yi and Li Xiao led the team, with Xiong Naijin and Zhao Ke also joining.

Qin Lan, Hu Siyan, and Liu Yun were all shooting dramas; otherwise, they could have taken minor roles.

Dong Xuan and Fan Xiaopang also didn't participate due to this, but Wang Ou took a role because he needed to return to Beijing for work.

Wu Jiani was busy with her dance studio, and Yang Rong didn't want Wang Ou to know she was in Beijing, so she didn't join.

But Yu Yanli didn't know only them—he made one call and borrowed Tong Lei from Hai Run.

She was currently dating Zhou Yiwei, making her his half-sister-in-law.

Also present was his college classmate Che Xiao, who was the most successful among the 2000 class of Beijing Film Academy's vocational program besides Yu Yanli and his roommate.

She had played female leads, gained some fame, and recently signed with Huayi Brothers.

Though both were in Beijing, they hadn't seen each other for a while, only hearing vague rumors.

They only reconnected when Yu Yanli attended the After-Party for The Banquet; Che Xiao attended as a Huayi artist, and after catching up, Yu Yanli invited her to help out—Che Xiao agreed readily and agreed to appear for free.

Honestly, who in the 2000 vocational class of Beijing Film Academy didn't envy Lin Jiachuan and the others?

Lin Jiachuan and Zhang Songwen weren't hugely famous, but they never lacked roles, frequently appearing on TV dramas—over the years, audiences might not know their names, but they'd definitely recognize them as actors.

Zhou Yiwei had starred in Haiyan dramas and played the male lead more than once; he wasn't a current heartthrob, but he was reasonably well-known.

To their old classmates, this was clearly due to Yu Yanli's backing—otherwise, how could they have enjoyed such success?

Let's be honest, few from the 2000 vocational class—or even the undergraduate class—had made it; many had simply switched to behind-the-scenes work or changed careers entirely.

So among these old classmates, nearly everyone wanted to cling to Yu Yanli's coattails.

But too many wanted to cling to Yu Yanli, and he couldn't possibly help them all—only a few close friends got any benefit.

Che Xiao's feelings toward Yu Yanli were complicated.

As previously mentioned, before Yu Yanli pursued Dong Xuan, he and Che Xiao, his classmate, had been somewhat romantically involved.

Without Dong Xuan, they might have gotten together; back then, Che Xiao had even confronted Dong Xuan over Yu Yanli's relationship with her.

Time had passed, and logically, that regret should have faded long ago—but Yu Yanli's current success made the regret not only linger, but grow larger.

Yu Yanli didn't dwell on it much—it was just a past romantic entanglement with a classmate from five or six years ago; he'd nearly forgotten about it.

Besides these, China Film Group and the crew also invited Qin Hailu, Ning Jing, Qu Ying, and Jiang Hongbo.

There seemed to be two newcomers too, but Yu Yanli didn't know them, and since their scenes weren't shot at the launch, they didn't show up.

Today, only Qin Hailu, Li Xiao, and Jiang Hongbo were present.

Jiang Hongbo was essentially a half-female lead, playing the ex-wife, appearing at the beginning and end.

Qin Hailu played a hypersensitive woman, lacking inner security, highly perceptive—most men couldn't handle her.

Li Xiao played a post-85 girl, fiery and energetic, lacking depth, unsuitable for middle-aged men seeking marriage and stability.

Jiang Hongbo and Qin Hailu didn't know each other; Yu Yanli didn't know the details, but casting Li Xiao in this role was definitely the director's sharp eye.

A girl who loved to play, chased trends, and lacked depth—Li Xiao could play this role perfectly as herself.

Though an investor, Yu Yanli joined late and had little interaction with the main creators.

But this posed no challenge to the socially skilled Yu Yanli; combined with his status, he easily blended in with them.

Since there was shooting that night, no dinner was arranged; after chatting with everyone, Yu Yanli prepared to leave.

But as he was leaving, he noticed Li Xiao glancing his way; he thought for a moment and waved her over.

Li Xiao had spread the rumor about Chengtian; though Chengtian didn't fall for it, she had still put in effort.

Regardless of other matters, what Xu Nuo had promised, Yu Yanli had to honor—otherwise, who would work for him in the future?

"These next few days, have your boyfriend go to Yian—I'll arrange a role for him."

Yu Yanli kept his word, but the reward depended on Li Xiao's performance; if she'd successfully tricked Chengtian and done a major favor, he could even arrange a male lead for her boyfriend.

But now she'd only spread a rumor—she had done something, but not enough.

A role was certain, but a male lead was unlikely unless Li Chen's luck was astronomical—unless the crew admired him and no one else competed for it.

A male lead was improbable, but he wouldn't just give a trivial role to brush her off—that would be disrespectful; at least an important supporting role.

"Then I'll thank you on his behalf, Director Yu."

Li Xiao didn't know Yu Yanli's intentions, nor whether the deal was sealed.

But since Yu Yanli offered a role, she accepted it—role quality didn't matter much, since it wasn't her acting anyway; yet one thing.

"Director Yu, could you make sure it's not a role with kissing or sex scenes?"

Li Xiao made a request—after all, he was her boyfriend; she didn't want Li Chen to have intimate scenes with other actresses.

Yu Yanli understood, thought briefly: "I recall there's a Shaolin Legend—I'll arrange a monk role for him if you're okay with shaving his head and doing fight scenes; definitely no romantic scenes."

Li Xiao clapped: "Perfect, let him play that."

After agreeing, exchanging a few polite words, Yu Yanli left.

Li Xiao stayed to shoot, working until past two in the morning before finally wrapping up.

The crew had a hotel, but since some actors had homes in Beijing, they could choose to go home.

Li Xiao's place was nearby, and since her next scene wasn't until tomorrow night, she didn't need to wake up early for makeup, so she took a taxi home.

When she arrived, Li Chen, who'd been idle lately, was already asleep; hungry from shooting, Li Xiao woke him up to make her a midnight snack.

"What kind of film are you shooting? So exhausting?"

Li Chen looked at Li Xiao, slumped listlessly on the sofa, and couldn't help asking.

Li Xiao didn't feel like talking: "Why ask so much?"

The girl she played was energetic, impulsive, always doing something—dancing at clubs, gaming, picking fights, jumping and screaming during the World Cup, even mimicking Zidane's headbutt.

Li Xiao was a wild girl herself, but enjoying her own wildness was entirely different from portraying one.

From the launch ceremony, through interviews and costume fittings, to actual shooting, she'd been up until midnight, still performing lively, energetic scenes—it was no wonder she was exhausted.

Seeing this, Li Chen didn't make things harder—he made her noodles, then went to the bathroom to fill the tub and waited for her to bathe.

Seeing her boyfriend was considerate, Li Xiao was satisfied: "I got you a role from Yu Yanli—go to Yian in the next few days, so you won't just sit around at home."

Acting was a semi-independent profession.

The famous never had time to rest; the unknown couldn't find work even if they tried.

Actors like Li Chen, with minor fame but not enough, were in an awkward position.

They had enough pride not to sink to playing extras or bit parts, yet lacked connections and clout, so they could only be chosen.

If lucky, they might shoot a few months a year with decent income; if unlucky, they'd get no work all year and just burn through savings.

So many minor actors obsessed with networking and social circles, or tried to get official positions, just to secure more opportunities or a stable fallback job.

Li Chen hadn't had much work this year—he'd been idle nearly half the year or taking odd jobs—so Li Xiao wanted to get him a film.

Hearing Li Xiao's words, Li Chen paused mid-motion, glanced at his tired, late-returning girlfriend, and his expression changed slightly.

"Why would Yu Yanli help you?"

Li Xiao, completely unaware of anything odd, sipped her soup and proudly flaunted her closeness to the big shot.

"I've told you a hundred times—we're close! I call him brother; it's just one word from him."

"Go check it out—if it's bad, I'll ask him again, we'll switch."

Li Xiao was boasting—she believed she had some connection with Yu Yanli; if worst came to worst, she could beg Qin Lan—she wouldn't lose face.

In truth, Li Chen had seen this before—Li Xiao loved to show off, mixing truth and lies.

But Li Chen had already held a misconception; now, seeing Li Xiao suddenly land him a role from Yu Yanli, his suspicions deepened.

Don't trade your girlfriend for a role.

Worse, Li Chen darkly wondered: was Li Xiao securing him a role—or was Yu Yanli tired of him, trying to get him out of Beijing, clearing space?

After much hesitation, Li Chen couldn't help saying: "Stay away from Yu Yanli—he's no good."

Regardless of whether it was a misunderstanding, he wanted Li Xiao to avoid Yu Yanli.

The statement made sense—if Li Chen associated with a girl of poor reputation, Li Xiao would feel uneasy too.

But their relationship gave Li Xiao absolute dominance; she was used to being pampered and couldn't tolerate being controlled.

Moreover, Li Xiao had no bad impression of Yu Yanli.

He spent money freely, but was kind, generous, capable, and powerful—she didn't think he was a bad person unworthy of association.

And she felt she'd been so good to Li Chen, even securing him a role, yet now he acted like she'd wronged him.

Li Xiao slammed her chopsticks down: "Li Chen, what do you mean?"

Li Chen, holding back until now, couldn't contain his anger: "I just don't want you getting too close to him."

"What's wrong with being close? We're completely innocent—you're just jealous of Yu Yanli, jealous and petty."

"Jealous? Don't flip the blame—you know what you've done."

"…."

Li Xiao and Li Chen had a huge fight, smashing bowls; Li Xiao moved back to her own place and sent Yu Yanli a text: Don't give the role to Li Chen.

…

Yan Li was still bewildered when he saw the text the next morning—why would they suddenly drop the role?

He called Li Xiao, but the other side said nothing, only forbade assigning the role to Li Chen.

Yan Li sensed something off in the tone and wondered if the two had quarreled.

He didn't care about the couple's squabble, but made it clear he'd remember this for Li Xiao—later discussion.

If they made up, he'd find another role for Li Chen later; if they broke up, he'd give it to Li Xiao or her next boyfriend—Li Xiao could decide, as long as he didn't break his word.

"What's wrong?"

Yang Rong walked out of the kitchen with a plate of warmed buns and asked Yan Li, who shook his head.

"Nothing important."

Eating the buns, Yan Li looked at Yang Rong: "Are the tickets booked?"

"Yeah, afternoon flight."

Yang Rong had taken leave in Jingcheng; she still had theater duties, and her agency had lined up a new drama for her, so she had to return to Shanghai today.

Yan Li felt a faint pang of reluctance—Yang Rong hadn't clung to him or grown cold, she was healthy, had a good temperament, and he genuinely liked her.

"If you leave, I'll be alone again."

Yan Li played the victim slightly; Yang Rong, still eating, rolled her eyes: "Whoever's lonely, it won't be you."

She knew full well he'd been absent from her place often lately—he was definitely seeing someone else.

She didn't know who exactly, but Wu Jiani was definitely one—she'd seen it in the QQ group.

Plus, Wang Ou would be returning to Jingcheng soon; even if only briefly, she wouldn't let Yan Li be lonely.

"You're just afraid I'll bring Wang Ou here, aren't you?"

Yan Li saw through Yang Rong's scheme—she'd come to Jingcheng even hiding it from Wang Ou, afraid Wang Ou would drag her into it.

Not just Wang Ou—she was also wary of Yan Li. She knew she couldn't handle them both alone, so she'd better flee first.

Yang Rong stayed silent, clearly admitting it; Yan Li bit into his bun with a scowl.

Running won't help—you're all meat in the pot. Eventually, I'll stack you all together.

After eating, watching Yang Rong tidy up, Yan Li couldn't resist delaying work and pulled her back to bed for a nap.

By the time she returns to Shanghai, who knows when we'll meet again—eat while you can.

…

After Yang Rong left, only Wu Jiani remained in Jingcheng, but she was too busy to be useful—Yan Li struggled even to satisfy his cravings.

Yan Li used to think he had too many women and barely had time for them all. But now he realized his view was narrow—many were female stars, busy with work, and he often found himself wishing he had more.

He wanted to visit sets, but still had chores, and hunting for casual flings yielded no suitable options—he also considered safety.

Yan Li could only find ways to release his pent-up energy during spare moments.

Gym, martial arts, running, horseback riding, soccer—these helped a little, but only treated symptoms, not the root; worse, the more he trained, the more restless he became.

So when Wang Ou returned to Jingcheng, she found Yan Li in a state of high tension—and together with Wu Jiani, nearly got worn out so badly they couldn't leave the house.

"You're nearby in Jingcheng—why don't you feed him sometimes?"

The next day, Yan Li arrived at work refreshed; Wang Ou, clutching her waist, complained to Wu Jiani.

He's so clueless—look how he's been pent up. I even feel sorry for him.

Wu Jiani felt wronged: "I have to be able to handle him too."

If I could satisfy him alone, I wouldn't say a word—but I truly can't. Even with Wang Ou's help, we got utterly crushed.

Wang Ou thought about it—Yan Li seemed to be practicing some kind of health cultivation, and his stamina had become absurdly exaggerated; otherwise, she wouldn't keep dragging Wu Jiani in.

Occasional fun is fine, but over time, thresholds rise, appetites grow, and that's not healthy.

But there's no way—no single woman can handle Yan Li.

Wang Ou isn't Qin Lan or Fan—they can tolerate him seeking others, but she won't let him run wild.

To win his favor and increase his affection, she had to ensure he was not just fed, but satisfied—and one woman wasn't enough, so she had to bring Wu Jiani in.

As for Yan Li's appetite and thresholds, Wang Ou had other plans—she could satisfy his needs and novelty by adding or replacing people.

Like that little flirt, Yang Rong.

But speaking of Yang Rong, a shadow crossed Wang Ou's mind—her good friend had been acting strangely lately. Before, she'd always called to listen to her livestreams—but last night, Yang Rong hung up.

This was unprecedented—something was definitely wrong!

Wang Ou wasn't worried about anything else—she feared Yang Rong had finally wised up and wanted out, to find a boyfriend and live a normal life.

In that case, as a good friend, Wang Ou absolutely wouldn't drag her down.

But this would be a devastating blow to Wang Ou's plans.

Wang Ou knew Yang Rong's nature—she didn't crave competition, had no ill intentions, and wasn't trouble-seeking.

She had a good figure and looks, quiet yet subtly alluring, and Yan Li was already interested—there had been plenty of groundwork.

Most importantly, their bond was strong, trust was high—Wang Ou didn't fear betrayal from within.

She could help, could be trusted, and wouldn't challenge Wang Ou for leadership or steal the spotlight.

In Wang Ou's eyes, Yang Rong was the ideal ally—even superior to Wu Jiani.

Now, if Yang Rong backed out, where would Wang Ou find another suitable candidate in a hurry?

Tormented, Wang Ou reported to the set of "Love Transfer."

Her role was a female police officer—dashing, a workaholic, obsessed with catching criminals, with a strong personality; the male lead couldn't accept it, and they eventually parted amicably.

The role wasn't difficult. Wang Ou read the script while heading to the makeup room.

Inside, another actress was trying on makeup. Wang Ou nodded politely, stepped forward—then suddenly halted, staring at the oval face in the mirror.

Huh… this face… kind of resembles mine.

But upon closer look, not really—both had oval faces, soft, sweet features; at first glance, they seemed similar.

This girl's facial structure and features were gentler, more refined, with a more approachable aura.

Wang Ou, by contrast, leaned toward cold elegance and allure, more aggressive, with stronger presence.

The actress, sensing Wang Ou's prolonged stare, didn't dare delay and stood to greet her.

"Miss Wang, hello. I'm Bai Bing—I play Zhou Xinrui in this production."

Another ice queen!?

Wang Ou slightly recoiled at the word "ice," but smiled warmly, shook Bai Bing's hand, and chatted enthusiastically.

Bai Bing was flattered—Wang Ou was now a top rising star, among the leading actresses in "Love Transfer," yet she was so kind to a newcomer.

Thus, Bai Bing's fondness for Wang Ou soared; lacking experience, she spilled plenty of secrets under Wang Ou's gentle probing.

Bai Bing was indeed a true newcomer—she'd switched careers late, was only 20 this year, and had just debuted.

In the past two years, talent shows surged; CCTV launched one called "Dream China." Bai Bing, studying in the northwest, applied, performed well, and was signed by Hong Kong's Yinghuang Company.

Yinghuang took her seriously—released a single, cast her in a drama, and recommended her to China Film for "Love Transfer."

Wang Ou found her interesting, chatted with her, exchanged contact info, and changed how she addressed her.

"Don't call me 'Teacher'—you're making me sound old. I'm only a few years older—call me Oujie."

Bai Bing naturally didn't refuse Wang Ou's warmth, and obediently said: "Oujie."

Wang Ou smiled: "Since you call me sister, I'll call you Bingbing."

"No problem."

Thus, they called each other Bingbing and Oujie—Wang Ou felt blissful.

Even a knockoff Bingbing was still Bingbing—after being bullied by that sly fox Fan for so long, didn't she deserve some comfort?

Since they weren't filming in the same location, they parted after makeup.

Bai Bing, eager to keep this new celebrity friend, planned to approach her after work.

But Wang Ou left immediately after wrapping, never returned to the makeup room, didn't even return a prop handcuff.

Bai Bing felt slightly disappointed—though they had contact info, she didn't dare intrude. Would Wang Ou even remember her next time?

But the next day after work, Bai Bing received a call from Wang Ou—celebrating her wrap.

Indeed, Bai Bing had minimal scenes—makeup and filming completed in two days. Wang Ou had slightly more, but was also expected to wrap tomorrow or the day after.

Bai Bing hadn't expected Wang Ou to reach out again—or to celebrate her wrap—and immediately accepted the invitation.

But Wang Ou was delayed by something, making Bai Bing wait a long time at the restaurant before appearing.

"Sorry—I thought I could come right after wrap, but the company had a last-minute event."

Wang Ou explained; Bai Bing shook her head, saying it was fine—even a little envious.

She'd just debuted, with almost no work opportunities—only occasional side gigs or tagging along with company events, otherwise she sat idle.

"Your company's big—arranging a drama shouldn't be hard, right?"

In Wang Ou's mind, Yinghuang was a major company, even bigger than Yi'an—how had Bai Bing ended up so down on her luck?

"Our company's big, but so are the numbers—and we prioritize Hong Kong artists."

Bai Bing, touched by Wang Ou's humility, held her in high regard; as a newcomer with no connections in Jingcheng, she opened up under Wang Ou's gentle prompting.

These days, Hong Kong entertainment firms, with their big names and abundant resources, attracted many mainland artists.

But Hong Kong wasn't easy to break into.

First, many Hong Kong firms signed mainland artists to access the mainland market, so they mostly offered mainland resources.

These Hong Kong firms had solid power, but as outsiders in the mainland, their resources were limited.

Most importantly, these Hong Kong firms preferred their own people—Hong Kong actors.

Take Yinghuang as an example—most of their artists are Hong Kongers, already famous with deep internal ties; newcomers like Bai Bing, with no name or roots, stood no chance against them.

The previous few resources Bai Bing received were still residual benefits from the talent search.

The company hasn't said anything about future plans yet, but from her agent's tone, it seems they still want her to join another talent search.

If she debuts through a talent search and then goes back to join another one, wasn't her first attempt pointless?

Watching Bai Bing's troubled expression, Wang Ou comforted her while sighing.

Every time this happened, she felt especially grateful she'd met Yan Li and seized the opportunity—otherwise, she had no idea what her life would be like now.

Maybe she'd be a minor actress, or still scrambling in the modeling world, or even returned home because she couldn't make it in Jingcheng.

If lucky, she'd get a job as a dance teacher with some income; if unlucky, she'd marry and become a housewife raising kids, counting every few jiao and kuai spent on groceries.

It was Wang Ou's constant, unintentional "self-gratulation" that made her increasingly content with her current state and more dependent on Yan Li.

So she had to find every way possible to make Yan Li unable to live without her, to make him feel she was his most perfect lover.

Thinking of this, Wang Ou glanced at Bai Bing: "If you really can't find any work opportunities, I'll arrange something for you—try to get you more screen time."

"Really?!"

Bai Bing was thrilled and immediately thanked her—this sister was definitely worth knowing, so loyal and generous.

"It's nothing, just a small favor."

Wang Ou waved her hand casually; though her fame wasn't huge, her connections were strong—she had more influence than many more popular actors.

Arranging a supporting role was no trouble for Wang Ou; if absolutely necessary, she could even ask Yan Li.

But Wang Ou's casual wave made Bai Bing notice something odd: "Sister Ou, why is your wrist red?"

Wang Ou instinctively covered it, pursing her lips: "I bumped it."

How do you bump your wrist all the way around?!

Bai Bing was puzzled, but seeing Wang Ou didn't want to discuss it, she didn't press further.

After dinner, Wang Ou drove her own hundred-thousand-yuan Jaguar, asking Bai Bing to accompany her to Guomao to shop.

After finishing Love Transfer, she had another event and needed outfits and accessories to match.

In such cases, some items were paid for by the company, others by the artist themselves—the former belonged to the company, the latter to the artist.

Many artists earned heavily and spent heavily; clothing expenses were a significant outlay.

Bai Bing, as an artist herself, had some experience with this.

But for events, she mostly borrowed clothes from the company or rented them—she rarely bought anything.

After all, she couldn't wear cheap stuff; even the cheapest cost several hundred yuan, slightly better ones cost over a thousand, and often could only be worn once—then she'd have to buy something new for similar events, terrible value for money.

Yet Wang Ou not only bought things herself, but never bought cheap ones—each piece of clothing easily cost several thousand, even tens of thousands; accessories were even more expensive.

By the time they left Guomao, the bags they carried totaled nearly 200, 00 yuan in value.

Bai Bing carried the bags for Wang Ou, feeling somewhat dazed.

Her family background was actually decent—her parents ran a business; though not extremely wealthy, they'd always provided for her needs.

So Bai Bing had always thought she didn't care much about money—but today, seeing Wang Ou show off, she suddenly realized she didn't care about money because she'd simply seen too little.

Spending nearly 200, 00 yuan on a few outfits—that could buy a house in a small county town. Was this what a star's life was like?

Not many stars spent like this!

Wang Ou knew well—without Yan Li backing her, she'd never dare spend so lavishly.

Even with Yan Li giving her money, she normally didn't waste this much; today was intentional.

To fish, you must first scatter bait, offer some sweetness, and make her see an even greater sweetness, so she'll yearn for it.

This trick Wang Ou learned from Yan Li, then added her own twists.

She'd tested it briefly with Wu Jiani; today was her first time doing it alone.

Wang Ou was fairly satisfied with herself—she planned to show off to Yan Li when she got home, but Yan Li was speechless.

Is this little bitch addicted to pimping?!

But regardless, Wang Ou's maneuver was clever: besides treating him to a meal and offering emotional value, and just talking about roles, all the actual cash spent on clothes and accessories came from her own pocket.

Even if the fishing failed, she didn't lose anything—no risk of being caught by the fish instead.

The advantage was safety, subtle and quiet, drawing them closer; the downside was it was too slow and required too much effort.

"Enough, you don't need to fish—I know your little schemes. Let me tell you straight: a few days ago, Yang Rong came and stayed with me."

Yan Li wasn't interested in Wang Ou's fishing plan—why bother fishing at all? An actor from Yinghuang—he just had to make a call, and that Bai whoever would come over to dine with him. A little maneuvering, and he could net her in seconds.

He had no appetite for wild fish now; if Wang Ou had this idea, she might as well help him bring Yang Rong into the fold too.

"Alright."

Hearing this, Wang Ou suddenly understood—she'd always thought Yang Rong was acting strangely.

She'd assumed Yang Rong had a lover outside, but it turned out she'd found an "inside" one—and had been sneaking off to enjoy it alone, hiding it from her.

Wang Ou was furious, pulled out her phone to call Yang Rong and demand an explanation—how could she not treat her as a true sister? but Yan Li stopped her.

"If you expose her, she'll just avoid you even more."

"Keep her in the dark—whether you slowly tease and toy with her, or catch her off guard to use as leverage—it's far better than calling and confronting her outright."

"That makes sense."

Wang Ou nodded vigorously, already spinning countless cruel schemes in her mind to make that little slut suffer silently.

Yan Li fondly wrapped his arm around Wang Ou—if every woman were as easygoing, thoughtful, and considerate as Wang Ou, he couldn't imagine how comfortable his life would be…

(End of Chapter)