Chapter 8:
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After Xiao Ran left, she glanced back through the glass partition at Jiang Nian’s rigid back.
Serves him right that Jiang Zhi-jie ignores him! The entertainment world was rife with messy relationships, but she’d believed the gentle, refined Jiang Nian was different—a lotus blooming unsullied from the muck. Turns out, all crows are black under their feathers! Hmph. Men were only reliable when they were six feet under!
Jiang Zhi, having never taken a day off in three years, found her leave request instantly approved by the pragmatic Sister Qing. Her belongings were mostly still at Jiang Nian’s apartment. Thankfully, she always carried essentials in her bag. The rest—clothes, cosmetics—were replaceable. Client files and critical documents were securely backed up in the cloud, a habit she now blessed. It spared her a return trip and further entanglement with Jiang Nian.
One week. That’s all she had. After that, reality would bite. As his agent, bound by a five-year contract, true freedom was still two years away. But for these seven days, she refused to let his shadow darken her peace.
She took a taxi to a department store, grabbed basic necessities and a few changes of clothes, and returned to Seventh Court. No sooner had she set down her bags than Cheng Shuwen’s call pierced the quiet.
“Jiang Zhi! Did you even see the Shangs?! Why is there zero movement?! Have you done anything?!” Cheng Shuwen’s voice was shrill with panic. “Creditors are besieging the house! Get back here and fix this!”
Jiang Zhi’s heart sank. She’d assumed marrying Shang Chi, the Shang Group’s sovereign, meant action was guaranteed. She hadn’t factored in his sudden business trip—and the likely delay it caused. Rubbing her temples, she replied, “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
She checked the time. He hadn’t mentioned his destination; he could be mid-flight. She fired off a text as she raced towards her uncle’s house, unsurprised when no reply came.
Chaos greeted her. Over a dozen burly men crowded the entrance to the Qin villa, the front row looking particularly menacing. Seizing a moment during the shoving match between security and creditors, Jiang Zhi slipped through the side garden. Inside, Qin Ming paced, phone glued to his ear, looking utterly harried. Cheng Shuwen paced frantically beside him.
Spotting Jiang Zhi, Cheng Shuwen launched into theatrics, her voice thick with fake tears and thinly veiled barbs.
“Look at them! Blocking the door! Those thugs look like they’d tear us limb from limb! My fate is so bitter! If only Yu Chuan were a girl… cursed with a son! Now I’m old, forced to kowtow to my juniors! The Shang family is vast! Saving our company would be child’s play! If Yu Chuan were a girl, I’d drag her there myself and—”
“Enough!” Qin Ming roared, slamming his phone down.
Cheng Shuwen choked back the rest, dabbing imaginary tears. “Am I wrong? My life is misery!”
Too weary to argue, Qin Ming turned his intense gaze on Jiang Zhi. “Zhizhi. What exactly did you promise Shang Chi?”
Jiang Zhi avoided the question. Instead, she pulled two cards from her bag, placing them on the table. She slid one towards Qin Ming. “This holds all the money you’ve sent me over the years. My own earnings covered my expenses; it’s untouched.” She nudged the second card forward. “This has about two million. I know it’s not much, but use it for emergencies.” Shang Chi’s black card was off-limits. She had principles; she wouldn’t touch what wasn’t hers.
Qin Ming stared at the cards, his expression grim. He knew this represented her life’s savings. He looked back up, insistent. “Zhizhi! Tell me!”
Knowing the truth couldn’t stay hidden, Jiang Zhi sighed softly. “He’s traveling. When he returns, we’ll visit you together.”
Qin Ming’s face contorted in anguish, lips trembling. “I told you! Shang Chi is dangerously shrewd! He’s not a good match for you!”
Cheng Shuwen gaped, processing. Jiang Zhi agreed to marry Shang Chi? But if true, why were creditors still at the door? And everyone knew Jiang Zhi was obsessed with that Film Emperor Jiang Nian—her room upstairs overflowed with his photos! She couldn’t believe Jiang Zhi would selflessly change course overnight. This had to be a stalling tactic, a lie to placate Qin Ming until the company collapsed, leaving her unscathed. Besides, what agent for a top star only had two million?! Cheng Shuwen was sure Jiang Zhi was holding back.
Feigning shock, Cheng Shuwen pressed, “Zhizhi, what exactly do you mean?”
Jiang Zhi met her gaze squarely. “I married Shang Chi.”
Cheng Shuwen pounced, voice dripping with skepticism. “Not that I doubt you, dear, but show us the marriage certificate. Let your uncle and I see proof.”
The marriage certificate? The image of the red booklet vanishing into Shang Chi’s black jacket pocket flashed in Jiang Zhi’s mind. She frowned slightly. “He has it.”
Cheng Shuwen’s smirk widened. Confirmation! Couples usually held one certificate each. Strangers, barely acquainted, wouldn’t entrust both to one person. Only lovers did that.
“Negotiations failed, didn’t they?” Cheng Shuwen sneered. “Your uncle might buy your act, but you can’t fool me!” The contract forbade Shang Chi marrying anyone else before thirty, but at twenty-seven, three years were nothing. He could still date freely. Why would he sink vast resources into this mess unless desperate to marry his true love? Jiang Zhi offering marriage was likely rejected.
Qin Ming’s brow furrowed, doubt creeping in. He’d rather face bankruptcy than see Jiang Zhi shackled to someone like Shang Chi. Yet… the call earlier had distinctly addressed Jiang Zhi as ‘Mrs. Shang’.
Before Jiang Zhi could retort to Cheng Shuwen’s accusations, a thundering crash echoed from the front hall. The next second, the door burst open—
