Chapter 30: Feng Chenchen's Wit

In the early morning, Feng Chenchen woke first, but she continued to feign sleep, lying still. For reasons unknown, she felt a sense of liberation at the moment she decided to humble herself and come in to admit her fault. The sleep that followed was unexpectedly deep and restful—the best she’d had in recent times.

Soon, Xiaoma stirred as well, sitting up with a headache. Feng Chenchen joined him, pretending to be suffering from a splitting hangover. When Xiaoma looked over, he was startled, even a bit excited—was this the aftermath of drunken passion? He fantasized for a moment, uncertain whether he’d finally lost his virginity. Being an amateur, he was far too embarrassed to ask her.

Feng Chenchen understood the mind of a neurotic man thoroughly, secretly amused by his confusion. She’d mastered the art of restraint; her expressions and demeanor were perfectly measured, and she merely smiled slyly without uttering a word.

She then got up, pretending to look around, hopping off the bed to retrieve her underwear. With the skirt discreetly hiding her movements, she slipped them on, twisting slightly. Still silent, she walked to one side, smoothed her hair, and said nothing. After gathering her things, she glanced at her luxury watch and said, “Let’s talk later—I have some business, my assistant is waiting.” She then came over, patted Xiaoma’s head, gave him a mysterious smile, and “casually” left.

After she disappeared, Xiaoma muttered nervously, “So am I still a virgin or not? The hints aren’t enough…”

Feng Chenchen, of course, had no urgent business. She was merely playing hard to get, crafting the script of a drama—what’s commonly called showing off. Standing by the gate of Crystal Palace Estate, waiting for her ride, she had to admire her own beauty and cunning. She’d managed everything impeccably; success surely wasn’t far off now. Young Jiang truly lived up to his reputation, giving her such a good opportunity to get close to “important people.”

Who exactly he was, Feng Chenchen didn’t know, but since even Fat Jiang went out of his way to curry favor, it was certainly interesting. Most importantly, this young man was not only likable but free of the usual vices of men in their circle…

Damn.

When Xiaoma left the bedroom, he jumped in shock, finding the door across the hall open. Chen Xiao was leaning against the doorframe, half-smiling, and said, “You’re showing off again, aren’t you?”

“Seriously, is that the latest trend? Everyone keeps saying it.” Xiaoma was at a loss with their banter.

Chen Xiao laughed, punching Xiaoma’s shoulder. “Since President Hong started saying it, of course it caught on. So, what’s up?” She continued, “By the way, I heard Hong came looking for you last night. Why didn’t you see her?”

“Why should I?” Xiaoma retorted.

Chen Xiao knew he was a bit neurotic, so she paused, then said, “Thanks, Xiaoma. I felt right about you—you give a sense of security, you’re responsible. Hong told me what happened on the way back yesterday. It was all down to you: you spotted it, called Hong for help, and then brought Young Master Ye and the others to save us.”

“That’s nothing, just what I should do,” Xiaoma replied.

Chen Xiao couldn’t help but laugh, clutching her stomach. “I just love seeing you act all nervous.” She added, “So, the person who retaliated against us was Feng Chenchen. Why did she come looking for you yesterday?”

“She realized her mistake… She came to reconcile and apologize.” Xiaoma actually started speaking up for Feng Chenchen.

Chen Xiao’s expression turned odd. “So spending the night with you was her way of apologizing? If she comes to apologize to me, I’ll be crying my eyes out!”

Xiaoma said, “Between us, it seems nothing happened. Her apology was rather reserved overall.”

“Seems?” Chen Xiao’s face darkened.

Xiaoma replied awkwardly, “I don’t want to use that word, but it’s the most accurate I can find.”

Chen Xiao felt awkward herself, vaguely suspecting they’d hooked up. But thinking it over, it didn’t seem plausible—a woman like Feng Chenchen wouldn’t just show up and sleep with some nobody. So her mind muddled, she thought “seems” was the perfect word. This guy clearly wasn’t a PE major.

Shaking her head, Chen Xiao continued, “By the way, President Hong is actually pretty decent. Why do you keep clashing with her? Was it about the contract to use you on the cover?”

“Not entirely. She’s generally a bit scatterbrained. I think she’s had enough,” Xiaoma said, grumbling about Ni Feihong.

Chen Xiao stuck out her tongue and laughed. “I heard Hong mention hiring you as her assistant. Try to understand her. She’s not unreasonable—she just texted me to report this afternoon, to go on stage. If I get a chance, I’ll try to smooth things over. She’s short on assistants, so if she’s busy, she might agree to hire you.”

Xiaoma replied, “Sure, you can try. But I have to say, as someone with some money, I don’t intend to rely on her to make a living. I just want a job—as an attitude, not a necessity. Besides, working there makes it easier for me to show off.”

“Oh wow, you really are showing off now.” Chen Xiao laughed so hard she nearly fell over.

The commotion was loud enough to disturb Taozi, who was still sleeping. Her irritated voice floated out, “Can’t you let people sleep? What are you all so excited about—did you win the lottery?”

Xiaoma was a little indignant, but Chen Xiao, being good-tempered, lowered her voice, “Give her a break—she’s sulking. Hong invited me to report this afternoon but didn’t invite her. Taozi was the one who brought me into the business, so it’s understandable.”

Xiaoma watched her for a moment, his expression becoming strange and thoughtful. He asked softly, “Xiaoxiao, what do you wish for in the future?”

“To make some money, go home, build a house, and find a man who’s pale, sweet, and fun to spend my days with,” Chen Xiao said with a giggle.

This time, Xiaoma collapsed to the floor. “The house is easy, but a pale, sweet, and fun man—I can’t help you there.”

“Get lost! Worry about yourself first—your job is always on my mind, and you still want to meddle with mine?” Chen Xiao shot him a glare and walked away…

Next, Xiaoma began his training.

He studied the editing videos Feng Chenchen had given him. Though many were complex, as long as he applied himself, he gained something from them. By afternoon his “skills” had improved a little.

He now felt confident he could emulate the Demon King more convincingly in behavior and demeanor.

With his training done, he turned to studying the “Good Kid” show, multitasking as usual—one eye on the factory phone playing the program, the other on the computer screen, hands operating the game like a phantom.

This body was remarkable.

Unfortunately, his control over it was still limited. He’d improved since his rebirth, with fewer distracting thoughts, but was still far from full mastery…

Three o’clock in the afternoon.

Chen Xiao was summoned by Ni Feihong to report. Taozi also left, picked up by someone in a Mercedes. Xiaoma paid little attention to these events.

His eyes tired from gaming, Xiaoma stepped out for a walk.

Perhaps unconsciously thinking of the little girl, he wandered aimlessly and, before he knew it, boarded the subway to his old neighborhood.

It was still early; the little girl hadn’t returned from school yet. Xiaoma went to the familiar corner shop, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and turned to say, “Put it on my tab…”

He stopped short—not the person he used to be anymore.

The shopkeeper was a rather attractive woman in her thirties. She stared at Xiaoma, wondering who this was, coming in and asking to put things on a tab.

But seeing his excellent looks and demeanor, she found herself intrigued, her cheeks faintly flushed, though she said nothing. She thought perhaps this was some kind of flirtation.

Xiaoma’s expression was equally enigmatic as he looked at her. He’d lived here before; unlike other places, this neighborhood had a sense of “community.” The shopkeeper, attractive though she was, had a questionable reputation. Rumor had it her husband was always catching her cheating.

Rumors were just rumors; Xiaoma didn’t know the details. She was decent enough—as a former recluse, Xiaoma had paid her considerable attention. The practice of “putting things on a tab” was really an excuse to chat and increase interaction.

Of course, nothing ever came of it. Apart from realizing she was decent, it served no real purpose.