Chapter14

Back in the car, everything proceeded as usual. Chen Xiang’an continued driving, and Cen Zhen sat quietly in the back seat.

No one knew she had secretly bought something so private and hidden it in her bag.

The Bentley drove through the bustling city center. As dusk fell, neon lights flickered on and off. The flow of traffic outside the window resembled glowing ribbons in motion. Cen Zhen quietly watched them until the colorful lights gradually blurred into shadows.

She felt as though she had been in the car for a very long time. They had driven far from the city center, made countless turns, and eventually arrived at the western coast. The damp air carried a faint salty scent. The sky and the sea became one seamless horizon.

Just then, Chen Xiang’an’s phone rang. He answered it and, after hearing something from the other end, slowly braked and said, “Okay, I got it.”

Cen Zhen, already nervous from the long drive, began overthinking again when the car stopped. Fortunately, after just a brief pause, Chen Xiang’an turned the car around and continued driving.

He said nothing, and Cen Zhen did her best to act calm, though her mind had already become a churning sea.

At last, after another ten minutes of driving, the car came to a stop in front of a harbor.

The cool sea breeze blew in. Several yachts of various sizes were docked at the shore. A triangular sign nearby clearly read: [No Entry Without Invitation].

This… was Meng Fanchuan’s home?

He lived on a boat?

Cen Zhen was confused. Just as she was about to ask, Chen Xiang’an finished communicating with the security staff and came over to open the door for her. “Miss Cen, we just received notice that part of the mountain road is undergoing maintenance due to a landslide. I’m afraid you’ll need to go the rest of the way by water.”

Cen Zhen: “...?”

That sounded even more absurd than the idea of Meng Fanchuan living on a boat.

Where exactly did he live—deep in some uninhabited forest?

At that moment, a man in uniform stepped out of a nearby fishing yacht. He wore white gloves and had a very respectful demeanor. “This way, miss.”

Cen Zhen didn’t move. Chen Xiang’an, understanding her hesitation, added, “Don’t worry, Miss Cen. This is Captain Zhou. He’s responsible for water transport maintenance. This is also the Meng family’s private harbor in Hucheng. No outsiders will appear, and no outsiders will find out.”

That last sentence made Cen Zhen’s ears flush with awkward heat.

Did even Chen Xiang’an know why she was really here? Was that why he offered such... reassurance?

She hadn’t done anything wrong, yet at that moment, Cen Zhen felt an inexplicable sense of guilt and shame, as if she were sneaking around. She lowered her head and stopped asking questions, walking straight toward the dock. Captain Zhou quickly followed and steadied her before she boarded. “Careful.”

Then he asked, “Do you get seasick?”

Cen Zhen didn’t want to speak any more. She shook her head and quickly found a seat. Thankfully, the captain didn’t ask further. He closed the door and went to the helm.

The yacht was modest in size—two levels, capable of seating seven or eight people. Once the doors were closed, it felt quite private. Cen Zhen sat alone and tried to collect herself. The earlier embarrassment slowly faded.

She had chosen this path, so she would no longer care about how others looked at her.

Taking a breath to calm her nerves, the yacht slowly pulled away from the dock.

Waves quickly rose on the sea surface. The cool wind hit her face. The shimmering water behind them stretched long in the evening light. Cen Zhen turned her head slightly to peer out the window. In the distance, the sun’s final rays hovered just above the horizon.

Here, one could see the stars sparkle, watch the sun rise and fall, feel the breeze on their cheeks—the whole world bathed in the golden tenderness of twilight. If she hadn’t come to talk business with Meng Fanchuan, this trip might have felt almost romantic.

As this thought crossed her mind, a sudden wave of dizziness hit. Cen Zhen instinctively grabbed the handrail—only to realize the yacht had suddenly picked up speed.

She’d never been on a yacht before. Despite her earlier confident “no” to seasickness, reality hit fast. She tried to find the bottle of water she had bought earlier, only to discover it wasn’t in her bag. She guessed she must have left it in Chen Xiang’an’s car.

Fortunately, the trip wasn’t long. After about seven or eight minutes, a seaside villa surrounded on three sides by the sea gradually came into view and distracted her from her discomfort.

She forced herself to focus and looked out.

Mountains surrounded the area. In the distance, lights shimmered like waves flowing through the ocean.

The yacht docked. The door opened. An older man was already waiting at the gangway, as if he had been instructed to welcome her. “Good evening, Miss Cen. Please follow me.”

Cen Zhen: “……”

Waves lapped against the rocks. The private lawn was hushed and secluded. Lush greenery traced the outline of the sea breeze. A gentle, fragrant stillness lingered in the air. Looking up, there was an endless expanse of stars.

At that moment, Cen Zhen truly understood what it meant to be luxury beyond imagination.

Some people’s homes merely shield them from wind and rain.

Some people’s homes—are dreams that most could never afford in a lifetime.What awaited Cen Zhen was the villa's housekeeper, surnamed Wei. He was extremely courteous, and after helping Cen Zhen off the yacht, he introduced the place: “This was where the old master used to recuperate. The second young master only recently arrived in Hucheng, and the house in the city is still being sorted out, so he's temporarily staying here. The place is a bit remote—sorry to trouble you, Miss Cen.”

Cen Zhen was indeed rather troubled. Even though her feet were now on solid ground, she still felt like she was rocking on the yacht. Her thoughts were still swaying.

“Thank you,” Cen Zhen politely responded to Uncle Wei. “Where’s Young Master Meng?”

“He’s upstairs waiting for you. This way, please.”

Uncle Wei led the way, and Cen Zhen followed behind him, looking around at the two interlinked townhouses with staggered heights. Similar to the style of the Hua Residence, this place also carried a retro aesthetic from the last century. What caught Cen Zhen’s eye was—

There was a beautiful little terrace upstairs, with roses cascading down in full bloom like a waterfall.

Meng Fanchuan’s room was on the second floor. When they arrived at the door, Uncle Wei knocked twice and said, “Second Young Master, Miss Cen has arrived.”

He then turned the knob and slightly bowed to Cen Zhen, “You may go in.”

Cen Zhen thanked him and stepped into the room alone. The floor was laid with dark wood planks, a branching chandelier hung from above, and large, French-style antique windows let in the breeze. The curtains swayed gently, and light and shadow spilled across the room like scenes from a movie—every frame, a picturesque moment.

But there was no one in the room.

Cen Zhen glanced around again, still not seeing Meng Fanchuan. Just as she was about to call him, he suddenly appeared from behind a door. “You’re here?”

Cen Zhen turned around—

And saw him in a bathrobe, steam still rising from his body—he’d just finished showering.

He’d already… showered?

Even though she had mentally prepared herself in every way, the directness of this moment still exceeded her limit. Her heart rate spiked, blood rushed to the back of her head, and the dizziness from the yacht returned in a rush. Her body swayed slightly, and she instinctively reached out for something to steady herself—only to be supported by a strong arm.

Meng Fanchuan caught her by the forearm. Seeing the pale color of her face, he frowned and asked, “What’s wrong?”

His palm was still slightly damp. The contact between their skin startled Cen Zhen like a burn, and she quickly pulled back. “Nothing, just… a bit seasick.”

Meng Fanchuan studied her for a moment, then pointed to a nearby sofa. “Sit for a while. I’ll have someone bring you a glass of water.”

After saying that, he turned and walked into the inner bedroom. Cen Zhen sat down as told. Before long, Uncle Wei knocked and entered, handing her a glass of mint water. “This will help refresh you.”

But Cen Zhen didn’t need any refreshing—her brain was already too alert. Just the fact that Meng Fanchuan had showered in anticipation of her visit was enough to make her wake up ten times over.

She sipped the mint water, trying to calm herself. But the moment she closed her eyes, his image from earlier reappeared in her mind.

The loosely tied bathrobe, the drops of water on his chest beneath his collarbone, the faint outlines of his lean, toned waistline…

...Are you crazy? What are you even thinking?

Cen Zhen didn’t know if it was nerves or what, but those images refused to go away.

And when she tried to distract herself, even more outrageous thoughts crept in.

—What if he has some weird fetishes?

—What if he’s rough?

—What if… he’s a total pervert?

While waiting for Meng Fanchuan, Cen Zhen’s brain had already prewritten a hundred morally dubious scenarios.

She regretted it for about two seconds—but it was too late now. She was already here.

Taking two deep breaths, she suddenly remembered something. She reached into her bag, pulled out the box of condoms she had bought, opened it, and placed one in her pants pocket.

That way, if he turned out to be the type who didn’t even wait to rip open the packaging, at least she had some protection.

After running through all her mental prep, Meng Fanchuan finally reappeared. “Something came up this afternoon and I couldn’t get away. Sorry for the delay.”

It turned out Hua Xun had shown up around 3 p.m. with a few friends, insisting on eating authentic Beicheng copper-pot hotpot, knowing full well how good the Meng family’s private chefs were. Meng Fanchuan had found it incredibly annoying—not just the crowd, but the lingering smell left on him afterward.

As he spoke, he sat down on the single-seat sofa beside Cen Zhen. “Still feeling seasick, Miss Cen?”

Cen Zhen thought, What sudden issue? Just an excuse. But when she looked up, she saw he had changed into a dress shirt and trousers.

She was slightly stunned. He’d changed his clothes?

Weren’t they supposed to...Meng Fanchuan saw her slow reaction and assumed she was still feeling seasick. He called out toward the outside, and only then did Cen Zhen realize someone had been waiting outside the whole time.

A young housemaid came in. Meng Fanchuan said, “Are there any oranges at home? Bring her two.”

The scent of orange peel could help relieve seasickness. Cen Zhen understood his intention and quickly waved her hand. “It’s fine. I’m okay.”

Seeing that, Meng Fanchuan didn’t insist. He waved the maid off and then pointed to a document placed on the reddish-brown wooden coffee table. “The contract for the promo shoot is here. Take a look.”

Cen Zhen felt uneasy, unable to figure out what exactly Meng Fanchuan was thinking. She reached for the contract, skimmed through it briefly, and said, “It’s fine.”

Meng Fanchuan rested his head in his hand. “Not going to take a closer look?”

Ever since Song Wang entered the entertainment industry, Cen Zhen had helped review all kinds of performance contracts. Having seen so many, she naturally understood the usual traps capital liked to set.

To be fair, this contract from Meng Fanchuan was quite comprehensive. Whether for Cen Zhen or Zhongshi Media, it offered full protection and had no loopholes that exploited the actor’s labor.

Zhongshi had a solid reputation and was known for being generous to the celebrities it worked with. Cen Zhen shook her head. “No need.”

Meng Fanchuan nodded and leaned back into the sofa, speaking in an unhurried tone: “Then let’s hear your conditions.”

Finally getting to the main topic.

Cen Zhen quietly drew a breath, then turned to face Meng Fanchuan, meeting his gaze as she said, “I want the female lead in Falling.”

Though she didn’t know why Xie Qingzong had said it was “not possible for now,” she had confidence in herself. She believed she could portray the character Li Tao well.

Since she had chosen this realistic path, then she would be a bit willful, a bit bold, and lay out all her terms plainly. Even if she were forced to be Meng Fanchuan’s caged canary, she would be one with ambition—one who paved her own way and could kick him aside at any time in the future.

“I want the female lead in Falling.” If the first time was a test run, a probe, then this time her repetition showed resolve.

Meng Fanchuan leaned his elbow against the armrest of the sofa. After hearing her out, he looked down and let out a faint, unreadable chuckle.

The air of confidence Cen Zhen had built up for this negotiation instantly faltered. She didn’t know why he was laughing—was he mocking her greed? Making demands before even getting in bed?

“That’s my only condition,” Cen Zhen tried to make him understand she wasn’t being greedy. She didn’t want luxury homes or fancy cars, didn’t want money—she just wanted one chance to prove herself.

Silence hung in the air for a moment before Meng Fanchuan finally responded. “Okay.”

He agreed to it.

“As long as it helps your career, I can help you fight for it.”

Meng Fanchuan’s tone was relaxed, as though he didn’t think much of her request. This was within Cen Zhen’s expectations. With Zhongshi’s standing in the entertainment world, a single movie role wasn’t a big deal.

Having had her condition accepted, Cen Zhen’s tense posture eased slightly—until she heard Meng Fanchuan say: “Then I suppose it’s my turn to state my condition.”

Her just-relaxed body instantly tightened again.

She clenched her hands on her knees, pressed her lips together, and nodded. “Go ahead.”

Without saying anything, Meng Fanchuan produced another document from somewhere and handed it to her. “Take a look.”

This document was more than twice as thick as the previous one. Cen Zhen was struck by a ridiculous thought—Do people really sign contracts for sugar babies now?

And this thick?

The Meng family was a little too cautious...

Shocked by how quickly society had changed, she opened what she assumed to be her “sponsorship” contract. But when her eyes landed on the first few lines, all expression on her face slowly froze.

She opened her mouth, seemingly in disbelief. She read it again to be sure, then looked up at Meng Fanchuan and asked, “...You want to sign me?”

“Not me,” Meng Fanchuan shook his head, correcting her. “The company.”

“Your future work will be handled by Zhongshi. They’ll assign you a manager and an assistant. They’ll make a professional plan and direction for your career. As for revenue sharing and potential disputes down the line, it’s all clearly laid out in the contract.”

Cen Zhen: “……”

Of all things, she had never expected Meng Fanchuan’s so-called “condition” to be a formal, full-coverage artist contract.

She wasn’t prepared for this at all. Staring blankly at the thick contract in her hands, she took a while before managing to ask, “...Isn’t it true that Zhongshi doesn’t usually sign artists?”

“Miss Cen,” Meng Fanchuan smiled, “nothing in this world is set in stone.”

Perhaps in the past, Zhongshi was all about playing by the rules and standing as a clean force in the industry. But now that Meng Songnian had handed things over to him, no one could dictate what Meng Fanchuan did.

And whatever he wanted to do—no one could stop him.Cen Zhen was still immersed in shock, unable to recover. She flipped through the contract page by page. Aside from the rather long contract term, the revenue split and termination clauses were all quite reasonable—for a newcomer like her, it could even be considered a remarkably fair deal.

“Does it really have to be ten years?” Cen Zhen tried to bargain.

“Yes.” Meng Fanchuan was crisp and firm.

Forget it. Didn’t Qiao Tingting also sign for ten years? Capital always protects its own interests to the greatest extent.

This minor flaw that barely counted as a flaw was quickly accepted by Cen Zhen.

“Then, my agent…” Though she found it unlikely, Cen Zhen still probed tentatively: “It won’t be you, right?”

Just then, Meng Fanchuan’s phone rang. He got up to take the call, giving Cen Zhen a sideways glance before walking off. “What are you thinking? Even if you begged me, I wouldn’t do it.”

“……”

Cen Zhen also realized she was overthinking due to PTSD. He was a young master—how could he possibly take on something as exhausting as an agent’s job?

Meng Fanchuan stepped away to take the call. Cen Zhen continued reviewing the contract in her hands when she suddenly heard his slightly impatient voice in the background: “Stay put in Beicheng. Don’t come here.”

Cen Zhen lifted her head slightly. The man stood by the window with one hand in his pocket. Though he wasn’t wearing a suit today, the lines from his shoulders to his lower back still revealed a fine physique. But hearing those words, even that handsome back seemed a little… scummy.

A woman’s instinct told Cen Zhen that the person on the other end of the call must’ve been female.

Someone in Beicheng.

Could it be that unresolved trouble Wen Hui mentioned?

Meng Fanchuan soon ended the call and returned to his seat. “So, what do you think?”

To be honest, apart from the fact that Zhongshi had never managed artists before, this contract left almost nothing to hesitate over.

But for Cen Zhen, being backed by a major company like Zhongshi—even if they lacked experience—meant she’d have access to more than enough resources to carve out her path.

The only confusing thing for her was how off-track everything had gone from what she expected. Meng Fanchuan was acting completely normal, without a single inappropriate move.

But they’d only met a few times, and he kept tilting resources her way. To say he had no ulterior motives—Cen Zhen didn’t believe that for a second.

She hesitated, then looked at Meng Fanchuan. “Your condition… is just this?”

Meng Fanchuan looked puzzled. “What else would it be?”

She’d seen enough men like Shen Zesheng to be wary, which only made Meng Fanchuan harder to read. But right now, she had no better options. Since she’d chosen him as her collaborator, she was committed to the path—even if it meant burning bridges.

The benefits in front of her were already confirmed. As for whatever came after… she’d handle it when it came.

“Alright.” Cen Zhen reached out her hand. “I’ll sign.”

Meng Fanchuan pulled open a drawer in the coffee table. Inside were a pen and red inkpad, all prepared.

Without hesitation, Cen Zhen picked up the pen and wrote her name, then pressed her fingerprint. Once both copies were signed, Meng Fanchuan noticed her fingers stained with red ink and was about to grab a tissue for her, but Cen Zhen quickly said, “It’s fine, I have one.”

She had the habit of always carrying tissues. Without thinking, she reached into her pocket—but accidentally pulled out the condom she had stuffed in earlier.

It slipped right out of her pocket, falling perfectly to the floor—

Landing directly between her and Meng Fanchuan.

A very recognizable adult item.

Cen Zhen stood there, tissues still dumbly in hand. Her mind went completely blank, and her face flushed redder than the ink on her thumb. Instinctively, she looked at Meng Fanchuan, clinging to a sliver of irrational hope—that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t seen what had dropped from her pocket.

But when she glanced over—

Meng Fanchuan had already withdrawn his gaze from the floor and was now looking straight at her.

Their eyes met—

And the air went dead quiet in an instant.