Chapter 256: The Talent Point: The Most Beautiful Singer and the Two Soldiers Reveal Each Other

The first day of the first lunar month, morning

When Fan Xiaopang woke up, he saw Yan Li practicing a set of martial arts with strict form—somewhat like the tai chi old men do in the park, slower in pace but not excessively so, with occasional bursts of speed.

He pulled out a small stool from somewhere and sat on it watching Yan Li practice.

She knew Yan Li stuck to practicing martial arts, but she hadn't seen him do it often.

Mostly because Yan Li preferred to exercise early in the morning, disliked the cramped space at home, and favored going outside where he could move freely and breathe the fresh air.

Whenever Fan Xiaopang was with him, work would suddenly pull him away, or he'd be too exhausted from late-night activities to get up the next day—there was never time or energy to watch him practice.

Today Yan Li had also taken it easy, waking up later than usual; plus, with the New Year, the streets were packed with people, and the sihe courtyard had enough room to move around, so he decided to practice at home.

After finishing his routine, Yan Li stood in stillness, wiping sweat with a towel beside him.

Fan Xiaopang asked curiously, "Is this the qigong you mentioned?"

"Hunyuan Wuji Zhan Gong. I obtained it from a master (the system)—a refined blend of the finest elements from various martial styles, nourishing the body, invigorating the spirit, strengthening blood and activating qi."

Hearing Yan Li's explanation, Fan Xiaopang became interested: "Can I practice it too?"

"Yes."

This zhan gong might have been tailor-made by the system for Yan Li; others could benefit from it, but not nearly as effectively—only slightly better than ordinary health exercises.

And since this zhan gong leaned more toward male physiology, its effect on women was relatively weaker.

Yan Li had once considered triggering health routines better suited for women or the elderly to practice at home.

But he never encountered anything suitable—mostly generic stuff easily found online with a bit of effort.

"Then I'll give it a try."

Nobody wishes to be unhealthy, and Fan Xiaopang especially didn't—she was beautiful and wealthy; dying early would be a waste.

She worked out regularly; nearly all female stars in the industry trained, though their focus, intensity, and results varied.

"Come on, follow me."

Yan Li broke down the movements himself, then corrected her posture hand-over-hand.

As Fan Xiaopang practiced, she was already panting and flushed with sweat before even finishing one round.

Don't misunderstand—Yan Li was teaching properly, nothing else; her exhaustion was purely physical.

"You made it look so easy, why am I so worn out?"

Fan Xiaopang was baffled. Yan Li smiled and explained: "It looks simple, but many movements engage most of your body—or even your whole body. As a beginner, you're bound to struggle."

After all, this was a zhan gong triggered annually by the system and likely customized for Yan Li, with proven results—how could it be like the tai chi old men do in the park? There were far deeper layers to it.

Yan Li received this zhan gong in early 2006 and spent months just barely entering the threshold.

Now, after more than a year of practice, he could barely call himself proficient; to achieve mastery, he'd need at least three to five more years, during which the effects of zhan gong would also improve.

Of course, by then Yan Li would be over thirty, his physical condition certainly not as strong as now.

Yan Li didn't expect much—just matching his current state would satisfy him; slightly better would be ideal.

"I'm done. Too tiring."

Fan Xiaopang didn't persist. Sometimes she gained weight—not just due to a tendency to gain fat, but also because she couldn't control her eating and was a bit lazy about exercise.

Of course, that was compared to the hyper-driven female stars; relative to ordinary people, her physique management was still quite good.

Yan Li shook his head—he'd taught Qin Lan and Dong Xuan before.

Dong Xuan performed best, perhaps because of her childhood dance training—she had stronger stamina, explosive power, and core strength, and her movements looked quite polished, though she had little interest in it.

He'd expected Fan Xiaopang to do better, but surprisingly, she was even slightly worse than Qin Lan.

Then again, endurance and dance/punching training were different things—physical traits and talent points varied…

…

After a shower, Yan Li boiled the frozen dumplings from the fridge, prepared a few cold dishes from home ingredients, reheated last night's leftovers, and they ate their New Year's Day brunch.

After eating, they watched a replay of the Spring Festival Gala. Energized, Fan Xiaopang dragged Yan Li to the temple fair.

During the Spring Festival, Beijing hosted temple fairs of all sizes, offering every kind of folk games, food, drink, and entertainment—extremely lively.

Yan Li had come to Beijing in 2000 and lived there many years, but had never once visited a temple fair.

During university winter breaks, he went home for the New Year; the past two years, he'd been either too busy with work or on set—no time for temple fairs. Today was his first.

Fan Xiaopang had arrived in Beijing even earlier than Yan Li, but had only been once.

Because she went home for the New Year and was busy with work, when she occasionally spent the holiday in Beijing alone, she found it dull and gave up.

This year she didn't return home and had time, plus she was with Yan Li—so her enthusiasm for the temple fair was high.

Yan Li hesitated slightly but didn't dampen her spirits.

Speaking of "dating," the most normal relationship he'd had was with Dong Xuan—they did everything real couples did during college, properly in love.

With Qin Lan, they had little fame and were a normal couple for a while.

But back then, Yan Li was busy with his startup, Qin Lan had her own job, and later they got embroiled in rumors with Shuang Bing—so their time and frequency paled next to Dong Xuan's.

As for Fan Xiaopang, their relationship was unusual, and by then both were famous and busy—so this kind of "dating routine" was clearly rare, leaning more toward "romantic moments."

But then again, while Fan Xiaopang and Yan Li had fewer "dating routines," they had more unique experiences.

Things like multi-day European trips, spending New Year's together for years in a row, grand signing ceremonies that felt like a "wedding"—all things Dong and Qin never experienced.

Yan Li always said he kept things balanced, but he knew from the start that true balance was impossible—there were always reasons it tilted.

Still, he didn't obsess over it. If balance couldn't be achieved, there was no need to force it.

Sometimes it was fine to tilt—so long as the water didn't spill.

Everyone had their own special memories and treatment—he could maneuver more freely, and if all else failed, he had the "double compensation" method as backup.

They both prepared disguises—coats, hats, sunglasses, masks—all ready.

The temple fair was packed, bustling with people; couples and pairs were everywhere—it was hard for anyone to single out one pair and recognize them through the disguises.

Even if someone suspected, they wouldn't be certain; a casual dismissal was enough. It was the New Year—everyone had their own business, few cared whether a couple they saw were celebrities.

Fan Xiaopang, rarely so carefree, dragged Yan Li through several temple fairs.

They watched flower processions, dragon and lion dances, bought games like arrow throwing, ring toss, and shooting galleries, and purchased sugar figures, clay sculptures, trinkets, and a whole mess of other random things.

Yan Li also found some good items at the Changdian temple fair near Liuli Chang.

Two Ru ware pieces, one Xuande incense burner, one painting each by Tang Bohu and Qi Baishi, and two ancient jade artifacts from the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods.

Authenticity didn't matter—they'd spent only a few thousand yuan total; Yan Li bought them purely because he liked how they looked.

The Xuande incense burner was used for burning incense, the Ru ware held objects, the paintings were displayed as decoration, the ancient jades were polished for enjoyment—a complete collection of "national treasures" at his service, regardless of authenticity, the display was flawless.

And sometimes, with antiques, authenticity was only one factor—ownership mattered too.

An old man in tattered clothes shouting that his Ru ware was real.

Even if it were genuine and matched every detail, few experts would dare give a definitive verdict.

Yan Li's net worth exceeded a billion yuan; even if he held a street-market fake and claimed it was a genuine piece bought abroad for a fortune,

Even if it looked obviously fake, many experts still wouldn't dare give a clear answer.

Many bigwigs collected antiques—some even ran private museums—and how much was real versus fake, only they knew.

This was still antiques—at least they had some basis in authenticity and historical value. The real murky waters lay in wenwan trinkets, exotic flowers and birds, strange stones, and various artworks.

Authenticity and value were impossible to define—market forces decided, but who controlled the market?

Yan Li had once considered collecting antiques to pose as a connoisseur, but after learning many behind-the-scenes truths, his interest faded.

He might still collect, but only pieces he personally liked or that held strong preservation or appreciation value—as personal hobbies and financial investments.

Not just antiques—he'd also learned the inner workings of jade mining and gambling. He realized his earlier thinking had been shallow.

He could still find bargains—the market might be deep, but with his system's precise tracking, he always managed to snag a few overlooked gems.

But these gems were just for fun; higher-value returns came from making women happy. Thinking of getting rich or making quick money? Too troublesome, not worth it.

After buying a pile of things, Fan Xiaopang drove Yan Li to Xinghewan in Chaoyang, showing him their future home.

Xinghewan, a top-tier residential community in Beijing over the past two years, claimed to be building China's number one luxury estate.

Such boasts weren't unique—Yan Li had heard several other Beijing developments labeled "【China/Asia's】 Number One Luxury Estate."

But whether Xinghewan was truly number one, its facilities were undeniably distinctive among Beijing's high-end communities, and its pricing was formidable.

The opening price was 18, 00 yuan per square meter; actual transaction prices were higher. For prime buildings, ultra-large units, premium floors, or special views, prices reached over 30, 00 yuan per square meter—larger penthouses and duplexes were outright ten-million-yuan mansions.

Fan Xiaopang bought a duplex of about 450 square meters.

Including parking and miscellaneous expenses, the total cost neared 15 million yuan.

The idea of buying property came from Yan Li—he'd bought homes for Dong Xuan and Qin Lan, even promised to sponsor Wang Ou's—so he couldn't leave Fan Xiaopang out.

He'd previously mentioned to her that her apartment was too small and she should buy another place.

Yan Li recommended two properties, both expensive, but Fan Xiaopang wasn't impressed.

Unlike Dong, Qin, and Wang, Fan Xiaopang was a genuine billionaire.

Her net worth was in the tens of millions, she had strong earning power, and she already owned property—so when buying again, she aimed for improvement and luxury, especially since Yan Li had brought it up—she saw it as a "wedding home," and she believed in Beijing's real estate market.

With a firm resolve, she went straight for Beijing's top luxury housing.

After choosing the property, she didn't ask Yan Li to pay—she planned to cover the down payment herself, showing the power and wealth of a top actress.

By the time Yan Li found out, she was already processing the paperwork—there was no stopping her.

He thought about it—her reasoning was sound. She had the means and right to live in a luxury mansion; why should she compromise and live in a "small house" just to match Qin and Dong?

So Yan Li didn't interfere—only told her not to take a loan; he'd cover any shortfall.

The others had all paid; he didn't mind spending a bit more for Fan.

After all, the homes for Dong and Qin were always meant to be temporary—once he had more money, they'd upgrade. With money, Beijing had no shortage of good housing.

Although Xinghewan was purchased, it hadn't been delivered yet, and renovation was still needed—getting in this year would be good enough.

Fan Xiaopang, seizing the free time, took Yan Li to take a look and dream aloud about their beautiful future in the new home.

This wasn't the first time Yan Li had experienced this.

When Qin Lan bought Fuli City, she'd often update him on the renovation progress, and Dong Xuan had also whispered to him about details of the new home.

So Yan Li knew exactly what to do: play the perfect straight man, go along with the woman's words, occasionally mention minor flaws or his own small needs, increasing his sense of participation and shared connection—highly effective.

How effective?

One night, Fan Xiaopang, tipsy with emotion, declared she wanted to have a baby with Yan Li, not waste the children's room in their new home; Yan Li spent hours persuading her to calm down, only relaxing after reviewing intelligence reports at dawn.

…

The next day, neither of them stayed idle: Yan Li had to handle office matters and visit a few close relatives to offer New Year greetings.

Fan Xiaopang had her own work too, including interviews after the Spring Festival Gala.

Though she couldn't outshine the language acts, her breakout song "Invisible Wings," combined with her popularity as a leading actress and her stunning stage appearance, leveraged the Super Stage of the Gala to give her a moment in the spotlight.

The title "Most Beautiful Singer" had somehow landed on Fan Xiaopang's head.

This term originally carried a derogatory tone.

At first glance it sounded flattering, but in reality it subtly implied that beyond her face, Fan Xiaopang's singing ability, stage performance, and creative skills fell short of other female singers.

It wasn't entirely wrong: "Invisible Wings" went viral, and to many, its success seemed partly accidental.

Fan had luck—she got a great song, already had high popularity, and benefited from Yi'an's powerful marketing.

Many said: "market-driven hit song," "this song was wasted on her."

Even the Gala received praise, but plenty of sour comments too—some mocked others for singing with their voices, while Fan Xiaopang sang with her face, claiming the show succeeded purely because she was beautiful.

Fan Xiaopang's team studied it and decided they might as well turn this into a starting point, cementing the title "Most Beautiful Singer" for her.

Some singers have great voices, others have high achievements, others have great charisma—why can't beauty be an advantage for a singer?

If she couldn't be the most popular, hottest, or best singer, then she'd be the most beautiful—one that everyone remembers, while maximizing her strengths and minimizing her weaknesses.

Honestly, even her own team felt a bit embarrassed praising her singing; but praising her beauty? They were confident—and Fan Xiaopang had no qualms about it.

So, capitalizing on her strong Gala performance, her team launched targeted marketing, slowly transforming the originally derogatory label into a positive one.

This was standard practice in the entertainment industry: reverse or counter PR.

Actively embrace, amplify, and redefine a negative label, turning it into a favorable—or even essential—persona trait.

Take "Goddess Sister"—this nickname originally carried mockery, a black term, but after repeated reinterpretation, it became her defining identity.

Same with "International Zhang"—it started as a black term, but gradually shifted to neutral or even positive.

The most famous recent example was "Spring Brother" from Super Girl: without this persona, and the nationwide discussion it sparked, she might never have become as popular as she is today.

Besides reverse PR, Fan Xiaopang's team also routinely engaged in lowballing rivals.

While few singers are known primarily for beauty, they aren't nonexistent.

The older generation—like Deng Lijun or Zhou Huimin—were either deceased or faded; lowballing them had no effect and risked alienating fans and the public due to their high national recognition.

Avoid targeting powerful singers with large fanbases—they'd retaliate, and it'd be messy.

So they targeted idol singers who relied solely on looks and crossover artists: weak in talent, poor in achievements, with fewer fans and lower popularity—easy prey.

Beyond these, another primary target for lowballing was the Four Dan and Two Bing.

Aside from Xiao Yanzhi and Zhou Young Master, who had some achievements, the others had little to show for in music.

Fan Xiaopang started late; her film achievements barely caught up, and her official honors were trounced—so whenever she led in any other area, she had to shout it loud and crush the competition.

Not just musical achievements—even the number of Spring Festival Gala appearances was compared.

All three of the Four Dan had appeared on the Gala: Xiao Yanzhi the most, twice total (2000, 2004); Zhou Young Master (2002) and Zhang Shengyi (2000) each once.

Both Bing had appeared: Fan Xiaopang had twice—this year and previously in 2005, when she performed as the Seventh Fairy alongside Li Bingbing.

Hmm, the Two Beauties from Dream of the Red Chamber led; the bottom was still Xu Cai'nv.

Over the past two years, the Two Bing had aggressively targeted the Four Dan; the impact on the other three was unclear, but Xu Cai'nv had been relentlessly humiliated—she must have hated the Two Bing to the core.

Though they had work, it was still the second day of the New Year, so no heavy schedule—Fan Xiaopang wrapped up in a few hours and went home.

Yan Li returned earlier and was now studying the promotional schedule for "The Legend of Xue Rengui."

Seeing Fan Xiaopang come in, he greeted her: "Get ready—we're going out for dinner."

"Who?"

Fan Xiaopang asked curiously; Yan Li pointed to a name on the schedule—she instantly exploded.

"Why eat with that old woman? I've endured two days—what new scheme are you cooking up now?"

Yan Li was speechless: "You accuse me of being heartless? Your heart isn't cold? It's just a normal Spring Festival social dinner—she's not alone, her sister's coming too. I'm bringing both of you—do you expect me to leave her sister out?"

"That's hard to say."

Fan Xiaopang didn't trust Yan Li's morals and couldn't understand why he insisted on dining with them.

"Sister, we still need them for 'Painted Skin'—they're actively trying to build ties, inviting us to dinner—I can't just turn them away."

"Enough. Just understand one thing: as long as they help you and our family make money, that's all that matters."

"You don't like her—but you like money, right? For the sake of money, can't you give her a smile?"

"…."

Fan Xiaopang was convinced: Yan Li had already explained how "Painted Skin" relied on the Two Bing's hype.

A commercial blockbuster centered on a female lead wasn't easy to pull off; the Two Bing collaboration was indeed a clear path.

Fan Xiaopang understood this, and so did Li Bingbing—that's why they agreed to cooperate.

Resources for commercial blockbusters were too hard to secure!

Though they were popular, ahead of them stood the Four Dan and various Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japanese, and Korean leading ladies—even if they snagged one or two roles, most were supporting parts, not the central, spotlight roles like in "Painted Skin."

Yan Li proposed the project, invested over a hundred million (publicly claimed), leveraged the Two Bing's bond, guaranteed both would shine and get exposure, and ensured equal status and treatment—no one overshadowed the other.

This was highly tempting for the Two Bing today, and combined with their personal ties to Yan Li, it sealed the deal.

The Sihe Academy had no suitable clothes—Fan Xiaopang planned to return to her apartment, rummage through her wardrobe, and pick out a stunning outfit to outshine Li Bingbing.

Yan Li shook his head: "It's just dinner. Why treat it like such a big deal? That makes it seem like you care too much—and you'll lose face."

Fan Xiaopang thought about it—still felt insecure: "But if I don't dress up, what if that old woman outshines me?"

Yan Li rubbed her head: "With your face? Even bare-faced, with acne, wrapped in a burlap sack—you'd still outshine everyone."

"You're the one wrapped in a burlap sack!"

Fan Xiaopang pouted, then happily kissed Yan Li before heading to her room to apply makeup.

Not too formal, not bare-faced—just light makeup, a neat, elegant outfit: not outrageous, not shabby—relying on her natural beauty to outshine the two sisters.

When she was ready, Yan Li drove her to a hotpot restaurant and pointed to the entrance.

"Familiar?"

Fan Xiaopang thought, then nodded in realization: "Isn't this where you told Hua Jie and us about the Two Bing marketing strategy back then?"

"Exactly. Returning to the old place brings a special feeling—and proves I wasn't just blabbering. The Two Bing rivalry truly succeeded."

Fan Xiaopang understood: "You're thoughtful."

Yan Li chose this place to reminisce, strengthen bonds, and further emphasize the symbiotic nature of the Two Bing, reinforcing their cooperation.

Honestly, Yan Li's move worked well.

Fan Xiaopang thought of the past, then the changes of the last two years—even knowing Yan Li's intent, she felt deeply moved; she imagined Li Bingbing felt the same.

The Two Bing rivalry had been crucial to both their careers—a milestone and a catalyst.

Yan Li arrived early, entered the private room first; less than fifteen minutes later, Li Bingbing and her sister arrived.

As soon as she entered, Li Bingbing took off her coat, revealing her figure-hugging sweater and graceful curves, smiling brightly at Yan Li.

"Good choice. We'll drink plenty tonight."

Fan Xiaopang glanced at Li Bingbing's outfit, muttered under her breath, then smiled with quiet triumph.

"Someone once said I was too obscure—now look: the wheel of fortune has turned."

Li Xue wasn't gentle: "How far have you gotten? Didn't you just latch onto my sister?"

"True."

Fan Xiaopang didn't deny it, but added: "I benefited from your sister back then—but now it's your sister benefiting from me, and she'll keep doing so for years to come. Honestly, you two are the ones getting the better deal."

Li Bingbing sneered: "You've published a couple of press releases, blown yourself up, and now you're delusional enough to brag to me?"

She admitted: Fan Xiaopang's momentum had been strong these past two years, especially last year; their collaboration had officially launched the "Four Dan, Two Bing" rivalry.

Given Fan Xiaopang's momentum and age, Li Bingbing might someday benefit from her.

But that's the future—not now!

Li Bingbing's momentum hadn't skyrocketed like Fan Xiaopang's, but she remained Huayi's top actress, in her peak growth phase—right now, it was unclear who had the upper hand.

"Heh."

Fan Xiaopang smirked: "Still pretending to be dignified? 'The Kung Fu King' gave a little girl the lead—Liu Tianxian is over a decade younger than you—how did you end up like this?"

At this, Li Bingbing and her sister turned livid—everyone knows: don't hit someone on the face. Fan Xiaopang's words cut deep.

But Li Bingbing wasn't one to back down—she fired back instantly.

"You're so capable? Then why did 'Red Cliff' cast you as a supporting role to a model from Taiwan? Liu Tianxian was still a popular rising star—what's that model even done? Aren't you embarrassed?"

Fan Xiaopang got angry: "At least I wasn't overshadowed by outsiders in my own company's project! How dare you call yourself 'Number One'? Pfft—just step aside and give the spot to Zhou Young Master."

Li Xue stepped in to defend her sister: "You're shameless! You got lucky and now you're flaunting it? Without Yan Li promoting you, you're nothing!"

"I'm happy to flaunt it—I have a man who adores me, I don't stress about anything, and I don't need you two to gang up and suffer together."

Fan Xiaopang wasn't ashamed—she proudly flaunted her closeness with Yan Li, stinging the Li sisters.

Li Bingbing's relationship with Yan Li needed no explanation; Fan Xiaopang always sensed hostility from Li Xue, whose gaze toward Yan Li was always complicated.

Fan Xiaopang wasn't sure about their relationship, but that didn't stop her from hitting both.

The blow hit hard—Li Xue's face flushed crimson, nearly rising to scream.

Li Bingbing also focused her Qi, but her mental discipline was stronger than her sister's; at the critical moment, she held back her temper and struck back with force.

She looked at Fan Xiaopang and suddenly laughed lightly: "In 'Painted Skin,' I play the elder wife—you're the mistress."

Fan Xiaopang: "..."

Before she could react, Li Bingbing pressed further: "He doesn't love you—he loves me."

"He'd rather die with me than stay with you."

"Hey, do you know why Yan Li always makes you play the mistress between us?"

"..."

Fan Xiaopang gritted her teeth: "Because you're older, and because you're ugly."

Li Xue slammed the table: "Who are you talking about?"

Fan Xiaopang slammed the table too: "I'm talking about both of you—your sister and you."

Crash!

Clatter!

First Li Bingbing slammed the table, but before she could speak, Yan Li smashed a bowl and plate; when all three turned to look, he spoke coldly.

"That's enough. You're getting wilder by the second. I chose this place so you'd reflect on the past and look to the future—not to tear each other apart and point fingers."

A clash between the two Li sisters was something Yan Li had anticipated.

Not only was their relationship strained and mutually irritating, but there was also a quiet struggle for influence and initiative.

Whoever held the upper hand would gain the advantage in this 'Painted Skin' collaboration and rivalry.

Yan Li understood this well—he didn't stop their quarrel because he wanted to test the limits of their cooperation and resilience.

The result was worse than he expected: these two were firecrackers—three words out of place and they'd start fighting.

Yan Li was increasingly inclined to play Wang Sheng himself—not for any other reason, but no one else could control these two shrews.

Under Yan Li's forceful intervention, the two Li sisters finally calmed down, but they still carried resentment.

Yan Li had no interest in forcing them to reconcile—unless they were in bed, it was nearly impossible to make them truly cooperate.

Better to lay out the stakes clearly: no amount of persuasion beats a binding of interests.

As for Fan Xiaopang, no explanation was needed—she couldn't shoulder a commercial blockbuster on her own and relied on the Li sisters' bond; as Yan Li said, 'Painted Skin' was a money-maker for her family.

Li Bingbing's position wasn't any better—the internal competition at Huayi was fierce.

Prince Zhou was watching closely, and so were Lin Xinru, Hu Siyan, and others; now Huayi was also cozying up to Liu Tianxian.

With years of emotional ties and a focus on the Li sisters' bond, Yan Li was the Li sisters' most trusted ally and external support—helping them maintain their top position and forcing Huayi to give them resources.

Yan Li needed the Li sisters to drive 'Painted Skin'; the Li sisters needed 'Painted Skin' and each other to boost themselves.

This project was mutually beneficial—so long as Yan Li kept the Li sisters in check, kept them fighting but not breaking apart, even with their rifts, they'd keep cooperating.

After Yan Li's persistent persuasion, it was unclear whether the Li sisters had calmed down, but the 'Painted Skin' project remained unaffected.

The meal wasn't exactly joyful, but it yielded results.

Everyone confirmed their shared goals and aligned interests, laying groundwork for 'Painted Skin' and future rivalry between the Li sisters.

After dinner, seeing the time was still early, Yan Li asked the Li sisters if they'd like to come over to his place.

It was both polite small talk and an attempt to ease their tension—though their hostility didn't hinder filming, harmony would help cooperation.

But the moment he spoke, Fan Xiaopang and Li Bingbing both shot him strange glances—even Li Xue's expression turned peculiar.

Come over to his place? What did he mean by that?!

Yan Li: "..."

What image did he have in these women's minds? He sounded like a lecher—every word he spoke could be twisted into something sexual...

PS: Daily acupuncture and IV drips take about three hours, often requiring waiting in line, and I can't stay up late.

So update times are limited—updates may be delayed these days; please understand.

(End of Chapter)