Chapter 43

Chapter 43: Turning Into a Player?

By moonlight, a woman sat before a floor-to-ceiling window in nothing but a coat, watching the city outside.

The Capital, lively through most of the night, gradually sank into quiet. Only starlight and streetlamps remained. The moon drifted toward the far edge of the sky, slow and indifferent.

Her gaze rested on the horizon. Lazy. Chilly. Like she lived in this world, yet didn’t belong to it.

Between her slender fingers was a cigarette—unlit.

One long leg was tucked onto the chair beneath her; the other rested on a footstool as if she had all the time in the world.

She held that pose until the sky began to pale.

Qiao Qing Yan turned her head and glanced at the tall figure sprawled on the bed.

From the original host’s bag, she took out the only bank card she could find and set it on the nightstand.

Then she lifted the suitcase and left without making a sound.

*

“Sister Yan, are we going straight back to the company, or…?”

At the airport, the young assistant with glasses hurried alongside her, trying to keep up.

“Do you need me to have the company arrange bodyguards to come over?”

Qiao Qing Yan didn’t break stride. “Little Zhu.”

Little Zhu blinked. “Yes?”

“How long have you been with me?”

Without hesitation, Little Zhu answered, “One year and eight months.”

Qiao Qing Yan nodded once, as if that was enough. “I’ve already quit the industry. From now on, you don’t need to be my assistant anymore.”

Little Zhu’s mouth fell open.

“Go choose an artist you really like.”

“Sister Yan, could it be…” Little Zhu’s voice caught, fear and guilt rising together. She thought of the online leak—the recording timestamped exactly one hour before the awards ceremony.

“Sister Yan, I swear, that recording really wasn’t—”

“I know.” Qiao Qing Yan took the ticket from her hand, then repeated herself with the patience of someone drawing a clean line. “I know it wasn’t you.”

Little Zhu’s eyes turned red anyway.

“But you should also know I’ve announced I’m quitting. This time I’m going back to Cloud City mainly to terminate my contract.” Qiao Qing Yan’s tone stayed calm. “Your home is in the Capital. You don’t need to come with me.”

“Go home. Rest a few days. Then…” She paused, gentle in a way that hit harder than any scolding. “Welcome your new job.”

She patted Little Zhu’s arm, rolled her suitcase forward, and walked into security without looking back.

Little Zhu stood frozen as Qiao Qing Yan disappeared from sight. For some reason, her chest ached as if she’d just lost something she didn’t know how to name.

She had followed Qiao Qing Yan for more than a year. Whatever people said online, Qiao Qing Yan had always treated her well. She wasn’t unreasonable like the rumors claimed.

She was just… a bit spoiled.

Fifteen minutes later, the plane bound for Cloud City lifted into the air.

In the airport hall, a clumsy young girl with glasses sat down and finally broke—covering her mouth as tears spilled anyway.

*

The horizon turned fish-belly white. The first ray of sunlight pushed through sheer curtains and spilled across the hotel bed.

Fu Yan Shi opened his eyes.

He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. A dark mark still lingered there, tender under his fingertips.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to piece together the fragments of last night.

At the height of passion, everything had felt inevitable. Natural.

He hadn’t expected that woman to be so clear-headed—to cut him off at the last moment as if she were snapping a thread.

When he closed his eyes, he saw those peach blossom eyes again: perfect clarity. Not a ripple of need.

He didn’t know whether to feel relieved… or furious.

Fu Yan Shi forced down the restless surge in his chest and got up to search for her.

The only thing waiting for him was the bank card on the nightstand.

In the entire room, there wasn’t even the faintest trace of her.

No lipstick smear. No stray hair. No forgotten item. Even the bathroom looked as though no one had ever stepped into it.

Fu Yan Shi stared at the card lying there like an insult.

So he had been—

Had she truly not recognized him? Had she taken him for a male escort from a bar?

A disbelieving laugh slipped out of him, bitter and sharp.

For the first time in his life, he felt… defeated.

Qiao Qing Yan.

From this moment on, Fu Yan Shi carved that name into his heart.