Eldest Senior Sister Became a Sensation After Being Blacklisted Online - Chapter 30

Song Cheng returned home and immediately headed to her backyard. The once tranquil and dreamlike garden, which she and Shen Gu had been using for the past two days, had taken on a completely different atmosphere with the addition of two large cauldrons.

The first time smoke billowed from the cauldrons, it had drawn anxious glances from the neighbors. But after several consecutive days of smoke rising, only the uninformed neighbors still came around to investigate. The rest had grown accustomed to the sight.

Approaching the cauldrons, she scooped a spoonful of the thick, medicinal broth and tasted it with her finger.

One taste was enough. She spat repeatedly, “Pah, pah, pah!” and glanced up at Shen Gu, whose earlier enthusiasm had now wilted. His eyes flickered slightly. “Alchemy is inherently difficult,” she said, swallowing hard. “Even though this potion simplifies the process… well, no amount of sugarcoating can change the fact that we’re just not cut out for this.”

She plopped down on the lawn, staring blankly ahead as she meticulously recalled the alchemy steps and ingredient ratios she had overheard. Persistence pays off—the moment the memory surfaced, she sprang to her feet, braced herself with one hand, and strode to the nearby table. Grabbing a brush, she added the correct dosages beside the listed ingredients.

After writing down the formula, only five herbs remained unused.

Shen Gu leaned over to inspect the situation and immediately clenched his fist. “Don’t worry,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “We’ll just brew a few more batches. I refuse to believe we can’t figure this out.”

Song Cheng turned to look at the tent in the corner, which had originally been piled high with medicinal herbs but was now more than half empty.

All that money!

She shook her head, suppressing the pang of heartache, and gestured for Shen Gu to step aside. “I’ll handle this myself.”

Shen Gu readily agreed, eagerly assisting her as she worked.

Whether it was luck or skill, by the second batch, the medicinal aroma filling the air closely resembled that of the Nourishing Body Pill. This pill had been specially formulated by Third Martial Uncle for his robust mortal friend, not only repairing minor physical ailments but also strengthening the body.

The reason for brewing such a large quantity was that Third Martial Uncle’s friend had pleaded with him for an entire day and traded precious medicinal herbs for the formula. This incident had made Third Martial Uncle the laughingstock of the cultivation world. Later, fellow disciples discovered that the pill also benefited cultivators, though its potency was slightly lower than the Q Accumulation Pill. However, since it required fewer ingredients, its price was significantly lower, eventually gaining favor among some rogue cultivators.

Suppressing her excitement, Song Cheng watched as the medicinal broth in the pot thickened. She promptly moved the pot aside, scooped up a spoonful, and tasted it. Her eyes widened. “This is it—the exact flavor!”

She and her Junior Martial Uncle had always enjoyed venturing into the mortal realm. Adhering to the principle that money makes things easier, they habitually carried Nourishing Body Pills with them, even snacking on them like candy when cravings struck. Over time, she had grown intimately familiar with their taste.

“Does that mean we’ve succeeded?” Shen Gu exclaimed, jumping up and down on the spot.

Song Cheng set down the spoon. “We need to test whether these pills truly strengthen the body, eliminate minor ailments, and promote overall health. Only then will we know if we’ve truly succeeded.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” Shen Gu said, his grin stretching nearly to his ears. He could already see mountains of money beckoning him.

Seeing this, Song Cheng shook her head in amusement. After meticulously recording the proportions used, she carefully stored the formula in her pocket and entered the living room.

Knowing Shen Gu was now completely consumed by thoughts of wealth, she decided to take precautions. She went to the market and bought several white mice with varying health conditions to better validate the pill’s efficacy.

Thus, Song Cheng, Shen Gu, and Song Tianfu began taking turns monitoring the mice under different conditions.

Knowing she had work to do during the day, Song Tianfu insisted she rest early, entrusting the experiment monitoring to him and Shen Gu.

After some hesitation, she accepted Song Tianfu’s kindness and returned to her room to practice the Tranquil Mind Manual. She meditated until dawn.

A brief nap in the car restored most of her energy. When she arrived at Phoenix Sky Entertainment’s music room, she found Liu Zimang and Gong Lin already there.

“I’ve reviewed the lyrics,” Yang Qiong said, handing Gong Lin’s finished lyrics to Song Cheng. “They perfectly suit your style.”

Song Cheng took the lyrics and immediately began reading them, her eyes scanning the page. As Yang Qiong had said, they were indeed to her taste.

“If there are no issues, let’s get started!” Yang Qiong said, already pulling up a chair. “Everyone’s eager to see you work your magic. This is also a good chance for me to assess my recent teaching progress.”

Song Cheng glanced up and saw three pairs of eyes fixed on her with anticipation. She immediately took the lyrics to the electronic keyboard, read them over a few more times, and began composing.

Individual notes flowed from her fingertips, weaving together into a melodious tune.

When she noticed something amiss, she quickly adjusted it. This process repeated itself until she had composed a third of the song in just an hour.

“As expected of my idol! This speed and quality are absolutely incredible!” Gong Lin clapped enthusiastically, his excitement palpable.

Yang Qiong and Liu Zimang had both witnessed Song Cheng’s lightning-fast composition speed, and they remained relatively calm.

Yang Qiong stood up from her chair. “Don’t just praise her. You need to consider whether you can keep up with her lyric-writing pace.”

Gong Lin’s expression stiffened as he scratched his head. “I… I’ll do my best. I won’t hold my idol back.”

“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself,” Yang Qiong reassured him. “Just pick up the pace a little.” She understood that inspiration was just as crucial as talent for musicians, and forcing speed was counterproductive.

While she understood this, she couldn’t let Gong Lin slack off completely. She wanted him to feel a bit of pressure.

Gong Lin nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I understand.” He turned to pick up his polished briefcase. “I’ll go back and start writing the lyrics right away.”

His eagerness made Yang Qiong’s heart sink. “Hey, don’t rush,” she called out, chasing after him. “You need to relax. Speed isn’t important—quality is what matters.”

Her words were met with only silence.

Seeing her return empty-handed, Song Cheng, who was leaning against the table with her arms crossed, chuckled softly. “You reap what you sow.”

“And who was I doing this for? To get you to hold your concert sooner!” Yang Qiong kicked the leg of a chair. “I’m done. My good intentions were wasted on an ungrateful fool.”

Seeing this, Liu Zimang quickly turned to glare at Song Cheng before moving to Yang Qiong’s side to soothe her. “Teacher Yang, don’t lower yourself to her level. She’s just like that,” she whispered, “a bit sharp-tongued.”

Hearing this, Song Cheng immediately straightened up, ready to retort. But when she caught Liu Zimang’s icy gaze, she swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue and waved her hand dismissively. “Anything else? If not, I’m leaving.”

“Get lost already,” Yang Qiong sneered, her face and tone dripping with disdain. “You’re a pain to look at.”

With this dismissal, Song Cheng immediately strode toward the door. But Liu Zimang grabbed her arm just as she reached it. “Where are you going now?”

“Lunch. Then to the Zhang Family,” Song Cheng replied. Noticing Liu Zimang’s disapproving expression, she quickly added, “Let’s eat together! Wang Dong told me about a great, cheap place nearby.”

Yang Qiong snorted coldly, cutting in, “It’s probably some roadside stall or a dive.” She raised her hand. “Not that I’m prejudiced, but don’t you think going to such places in broad daylight would draw too much attention?”

Liu Zimang nodded solemnly. “Teacher Yang has a point,” she said sternly. “How many times have I told you? You need to be more aware of your status as a celebrity. I don’t want to hear such talk again.”

“Being famous is such a hassle,” Song Cheng muttered under her breath. Glancing up, she saw Liu Zimang’s expression darkening and immediately raised her hand. “I’ll definitely remember my position and won’t give those annoying reporters any chances to sneak photos.”

Hearing this, Liu Zimang’s expression softened slightly. She turned to Yang Qiong. “Teacher Yang, why don’t you join us?”

Yang Qiong waved her hand dismissively. “No, thank you.” Her gaze settled on Song Cheng. “I can’t eat with her around.”

Song Cheng leaned forward to retort, but Liu Zimang quickly pulled her away.

“Teacher Yang is still your teacher,” Liu Zimang said sternly. “As a student, you should show her more respect.”

Song Cheng desperately wanted to explain that this was just their unique way of interacting, but to avoid angering Liu Zimang, she kept her mouth shut.

When Song Cheng didn’t reply immediately, Liu Zimang stopped and turned back to her. “Answer me.”

Frowning slightly, Song Cheng glanced at Liu Zimang before finally replying, “Okay.”

For some reason, Song Cheng felt that Liu Zimang had been acting strangely these past few days, getting angry far too easily.

To avoid upsetting Liu Zimang, Song Cheng decided to agree with everything she said from then on. As it turned out, this strategy worked perfectly. The rest of the meal passed pleasantly.

After paying the bill, Song Cheng bid farewell to Liu Zimang and headed to the Zhang Family.

Just as with the Liu Family, Zhang Heng had summoned all the Zhang Family disciples back home. Once he confirmed that the three families’ techniques had overlapping points, he immediately called Xu Jinrong and Liu Tianhong, instructing them to bring a few disciples over.

Though puzzled, both complied.

“Don’t rush,” Song Cheng said. “Let’s observe first.” With a gesture, she signaled the disciples from the three families to begin their demonstrations.

After watching for a while, Xu Jinrong began to grasp Song Cheng’s intention. He approached her and asked, “Are you trying to merge the techniques of the three families?”

Song Cheng remained silent, her gaze urging him to continue watching.

Due to gaps in their inherited knowledge, each family had incorporated their own martial arts philosophies into their techniques, resulting in overlapping points among the three styles.

Seeing the disciples halt their movements, Song Cheng stood with her hands behind her back in the center of the courtyard. She casually took a wooden staff from a nearby disciple and began demonstrating techniques before the entire group.

Every eye was riveted, no one daring to miss a single detail.

Song Cheng demonstrated only three techniques. After finishing, she returned the staff and asked, “Did everyone see clearly?”

The twelve disciples nodded in unison.

“Then demonstrate what you’ve each grasped, but don’t forget the techniques you learned from your own families. Remember, martial arts training isn’t about rote memorization,” Song Cheng said before returning to her chair under the eaves.

Bringing together disciples from three different families didn’t mean merging their techniques. She had learned that the disciples had trained for varying lengths of time—some for over a decade, others for just a few years. This meant they had already internalized their families’ techniques and developed their own unique styles. By introducing new techniques, she could prevent them from simply following a rigid, step-by-step approach.

The disciples’ performances validated her theory. Though they demonstrated the same techniques she had just shown, each family’s disciples displayed a distinct feel, reflecting their individual styles. Of course, comprehension ability also played a role, but the disciples selected for this training were among the most promising from their respective families, so even the least perceptive among them were still quite capable.

After the twelve disciples finished, Song Cheng rose from her chair. “My time and energy are limited. If you want me to teach you more, this is a good way to do it.”

Xu Jinrong and Zhang Heng exchanged glances before speaking in unison, “I have no objections.”

With both of them agreeing, Liu Tianhong had no choice but to swallow his objections. Meeting their gazes, he lifted his chin and said, “What are you looking at me for? I don’t have any objections either.”

He secretly welcomed this arrangement, as it would eliminate any suspicion that Song Cheng might be giving preferential treatment to the other two families.

As for how much each disciple would learn, that would depend entirely on their individual comprehension.

“Then it’s settled. You three can decide on the location yourselves.” Anticipating their bickering, Song Cheng quickly excused herself and slipped away.

Back home, she rushed to the backyard and knelt beside Song Tianfu, carefully observing the five white mice.

The most striking change was in the previously lethargic mouse, which was now eating heartily. The two mice that had been slightly unwell were now leaping and scurrying around their cage with renewed energy.

“This health supplement is truly remarkable,” Song Tianfu remarked sincerely.

Song Cheng didn’t let herself become complacent. Who knew what complications might arise later? The thought made her regret not having learned alchemy properly when she had the chance.

If her Junior Martial Uncle hadn’t developed a sudden interest in alchemy and insisted on dragging her along, she probably wouldn’t even know a single Pill Formula by heart.

A few days later, at Phoenix Sky Entertainment, Song Cheng saw the program schedule Zhang Yux handed her and jumped to her feet, pointing at the list. “Why is my teacher on this show? And why are we paired together?”

The variety show Zhang Yux had signed her up for was called Classic Concert, its purpose, as the name suggested, being to preserve and pass on musical classics.

The show’s format was simple: invite the original singers of classic songs, along with aspiring or newly debuted artists like Song Cheng who shared a passion for music. The program featured twenty original singers and twenty emerging artists.

Given this ratio, even if Song Cheng and Yang Qiong were on the same show, they shouldn’t have been paired together. Yet, by sheer coincidence, they were.

Zhang Yux rolled her eyes and sank onto the sofa. “Being paired with your teacher is a good thing, isn’t it? It’s an opportunity most people would kill for.”

“Who wants to be paired with her?” Song Cheng pouted. “I’m sick of seeing her every day from studying with her.”

When meeting someone she didn’t know, she would clearly state her intention to change any melodies she found unsatisfactory. But if that person was Yang Qiong, things would be more complicated.

If disagreements arose, her promise to Ziman about winning the championship might fall through.

Liu Zimang, who was reading the script, overheard this remark and immediately stood up from her chair. After a moment’s hesitation, she changed the question she was about to ask to: “Get ready, we’re leaving soon.”

SL had chosen M City, a branch office nearly a thousand miles away, as the filming location. Driving would take too long, so they opted to fly.

Upon arriving at their hotel, Zhang Yux received a call from Lisa, the advertising director at AL, who requested a meeting with Liu Zimang and Song Cheng to discuss the filming details for the next day.

During the meeting, Song Cheng realized that the only change from the original plan was the addition of a scene to be filmed in bed.

She was a bit confused by this.

She glanced at Liu Zimang and, seeing no objection, decided to ignore it. After all, Liu Zimang would be there with her.

After their conversation, Song Cheng, Liu Zimang, and Zhang Yux took the elevator upstairs together. Song Cheng accepted the room key from Zhang Yux, swiped it to open the presidential suite, and walked inside to set down Liu Zimang’s suitcase. She then turned to leave.

Liu Zimang watched her retreating figure and asked, “Where are you going?”

Song Cheng paused, pointing toward the door. “To my room.”

“This is your room,” Liu Zimang said, already shrugging off her coat to reveal a cream-colored, lace-trimmed slip dress beneath. Her graceful figure and glimpses of snow-white skin made Song Cheng swallow hard.

Despite trying to look away, Liu Zimang seemed to possess a magnetic pull, drawing her gaze back again and again.

Zhang Yux, who had been sitting on the sofa with her hand covering her mouth, lowered her hand and turned to leave.

The movement snapped Song Cheng back to a semblance of reason. She gritted her teeth, slowly tore her gaze from Liu Zimang, and asked with feigned composure, “Aren’t we supposed to have separate rooms?”

Liu Zimang reclined casually on the sofa, her legs slightly curled. The already short hem of her dress barely covered anything, fully exposing her long, slender, and porcelain-white legs. Seemingly oblivious to Song Cheng’s subtly shifting gaze, she gracefully propped her chin on her hand and gazed out the window. “Oh, Yu X said booking two rooms would save us some money.”

Zhang Yux, who had already reached the door, nearly stumbled. Had she really said that?

Well, she had, but her exact words were: “Let’s book two deluxe rooms, slightly less extravagant than the presidential suite. That way, we’ll maintain appearances while saving some money.”

And what was Liu Zimang’s response? To upgrade both deluxe rooms into a single suite.

At the time, Zhang Yux had found it odd, but now she understood: this wasn’t just “making do”; it was a premeditated scheme.

Look at that lace-trimmed slip dress, look at that provocative pose that even made her bl00d boil—wasn’t it all designed to lure Song Cheng into bed?

Realizing Zhang Yux was still there, Song Cheng shifted to completely block Liu Zimang on the sofa, urging, “Weren’t you leaving?”

Zhang Yux: “……”

Fine, she’d leave. She had no desire to stay and be a hundred-watt lightbulb.

As soon as Zhang Yux crossed the threshold, Song Cheng slammed the door shut. The thought of the seductive demon behind her sent her excitement surging.

But a faint weariness reminded her that now wasn’t the time.

She shook her head and began practicing the Tranquil Mind Manual.

Click-clack…

The sound of Ziman’s heels approaching. What did Ziman want now…?

The moment the thought crossed her mind, Song Cheng noticed the room darkening. A pair of hands wrapped around her waist, and Ziman’s soft body pressed against her back.

The Tranquil Mind Manual, which had just begun to take effect, abruptly ceased working as Ziman’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt.

Those delicate fingertips slowly moved upward, each inch of progress stiffening Song Cheng’s body further. The beast caged within her heart stirred restlessly, yearning to pin this Demon beneath her and ravage her mercilessly.

“Song Cheng, you’re a bit hard here. Are those your abs?” Liu Zimang asked, releasing her waist and ducking her head under Song Cheng’s arm. Ignoring Song Cheng’s protests, she lifted the hem of her shirt to examine her midriff closely.

Liu Zimang couldn’t resist poking her abs again. “They’re quite fun,” she murmured with a sigh. “But it’s hard to see clearly here. Why don’t you take your shirt off so I can get a better look?”

Song Cheng swallowed hard, her gaze burning into the mischievous glint in Liu Zimang’s eyes. She slowly reached out and firmly grasped the still-roaming hand, pulling it away with a slightly hoarse voice: “Stop teasing. We should get some rest.”

“It’s still early,” Liu Zimang countered.

Song Cheng tilted her head and took two steps back, trying to create distance between them. But Liu Zimang seemed determined to play this game, advancing a step for every step Song Cheng retreated.

“Song Cheng, you’re avoiding me,” Liu Zimang said, her fox-like eyes glistening with unshed tears, her face etched with hurt.

Her pitiful expression melted Song Cheng’s heart. She immediately stepped forward and pulled Liu Zimang into her arms. “I’m not. I… I just thought this… this isn’t good for you.”

“And flirting with me in public is good for me?”

Song Cheng fell silent.

Liu Zimang huffed softly, grabbed Song Cheng’s collar, tilted her head slightly, and kissed her directly.

The moment she decided to book a room, she had resolved to claim Song Cheng, to sleep with her, to make Song Cheng unable to live without her. As for any pretense of modesty, to hell with it!

Only what she held in her hands was real, only that could give her security.

Song Cheng froze at the sudden move. Dissatisfied with her reaction, Liu Zimang nipped at her lip.

That bite jolted Song Cheng into action. She spun around and pinned Liu Zimang against the wall.

A gentle breeze occasionally drifted through the window cracks, stirring the pale blue curtains like a shy woman dancing gracefully.

Soon, hurried breaths filled the room. The pair, who had been pressed against the wall, had moved into the inner chamber, where a massive bed nearly three meters wide lay just a meter away. Rose petals were arranged in a heart shape on the bed.

As the two women settled onto the bed, the red rose petals scattered, showering their faces and bodies.

Liu Zimang’s cheeks flushed crimson with arousal, her beauty intensified by the contrast with the scarlet petals.

Four words immediately flashed through Song Cheng’s mind: More beautiful than flowers.

While circulating the Tranquil Mind Manual, Song Cheng shifted her body, pulling the quilt from beneath her to cover Liu Zimang’s chest. She forced herself to look away from the tempting expanse of snow-white skin, gripping the quilt tightly beneath her. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, “What do you want to eat? I’ll go order it for you.”

Liu Zimang, who had been fully prepared, was left speechless.

Knowing she couldn’t stay any longer, Song Cheng gritted her teeth, flipped off the bed before Liu Zimang could reply, and fled stiffly from the room.

No more slacking off, she vowed. I must master the Tranquil Mind Manual quickly and eliminate this damned physical weakness. Only then will I be able to truly claim that demon in bed.

I’ll make her beg for mercy beneath me.

Outside, she strode to the coffee table, grabbed the water bottle, twisted it open, and tilted her head back to drink deeply.

After chugging two bottles of water and circulating the Tranquil Mind Manual, the burning sensation in her body finally began to subside.

Liu Zimang was suffering just as much. She sat slumped on the bed, slamming her fist against the mattress. Crimson rose petals immediately floated upward from the impact.

She couldn’t understand it. Song Cheng had clearly felt something too, so why had she fled at the last moment?

Did she find her repulsive?

At this thought, her eyes welled up with tears, an indescribable sense of grievance rising in her heart. What was wrong with her? Why would Song Cheng reject her?

Song Cheng, oblivious to Liu Zimang’s anguish, calmed herself down and decided to go downstairs to find something to eat.

The moment she opened the door, she was met with Zhang Yux’s astonished gaze.

Zhang Yux pointed inside, swallowing hard. “Just… is that all?”

Unlike Liu Zimang and Song Cheng, who had splurged on a suite, Zhang Yux had only booked a business room for herself. She had already changed and was lying in bed when she suddenly remembered the two women upstairs might be going wild.

Tomorrow was the shoot. If they overdid it, how would they hide all the marks?

She immediately got out of bed and came upstairs, hesitating whether it was right to knock and interrupt. Just as she was about to, the door swung open.

She had only ever heard of men finishing early when they were too excited, but she never imagined it could happen to women too…

Song Cheng didn’t understand the implication in Zhang Yux’s words, but Zhang Yux’s expression told her it wasn’t anything good. She frowned slightly and reached out to block Zhang Yux from entering. “What do you want?”

Zhang Yux’s heart felt like it was being scratched by a cat. She was desperate to go inside and ask Liu Zimang what was going on. She stood on tiptoe, craning her neck to peer inside, and said, “I, I forgot to tell Ziman something important.”

“Tell her tomorrow,” Song Cheng said firmly. She had no intention of letting anyone see Ziman, who was more delicate than a flower.

Zhang Yux refused to give up, spouting nonsense without hesitation. “No, it’s really important.”

Song Cheng stared at her for a moment. Seeing Zhang Yux’s genuinely serious demeanor, she finally lowered her hand from the doorframe. “Just say it from here. She can hear you.”

This stopped Zhang Yux in her tracks.

Just as she settled into place, Liu Zimang’s voice, tinged with resentment, rang out: “Get out and let Yu X in.”

Zhang Yux couldn’t have been more pleased. She lifted her chin slightly, her eyes brimming with smug satisfaction.

Song Cheng grabbed Zhang Yux, who had already stepped halfway through the door, and with a slight tug, forced her back. Ignoring Zhang Yux’s protests, she slammed the door shut, quickly removed her own coat, and walked to the bed with pursed lips. Under Liu Zimang’s furious glare, she draped the coat over Liu Zimang’s shoulders and zipped it all the way up.

Only after confirming that no skin was exposed did Song Cheng finally relax and stand up.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Liu Zimang demanded, her pent-up anger finally erupting.

Song Cheng pressed a hand to her forehead, averting her gaze. “I-I was worried you’d catch a chill.”

Liu Zimang rose from the bed, tugging the zipper down as she sneered, “Really? Because I don’t feel cold at all.”

Catching a glimpse of Liu Zimang’s partially exposed arm, Song Cheng’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Ziman, stop being difficult.”

“How am I being difficult? Don’t you despise me? If you do, Yu X certainly doesn’t.”

Song Cheng’s voice was a mix of panic and helplessness. “I don’t! How could I ever despise you?”

“Then why haven’t you…” Liu Zimang trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“N-not yet. Not for now.” Before the words had even left her lips, Song Cheng turned abruptly, opened the door, and hurried away, leaving Zhang Yux staring after her with wide eyes.

The heavens were surely punishing her. The woman she cherished was right before her eyes, yet she was powerless to reach her. This feeling drove her even madder than losing a martial arts match.

What must Ziman be thinking of me right now?

Her mind was so preoccupied that even the fragrant and flavorful Australian lobster couldn’t tempt her appetite.

What truly crushed her spirit was returning to the presidential suite only to find Ziman had locked her out.

Glancing at the sofa barely large enough for two people to lie down on, and the thin blanket, she sighed, cast one last look at the tightly shut bedroom door, and resigned herself to the sofa.

The day’s events had left her too restless to sleep. She opened the Tranquil Mind Manual she carried with her, sat cross-legged, and began her cultivation practice.

The manual appeared simple at first glance, but its true difficulty became increasingly apparent as she progressed.

As for the two missing pages at the end, she chose not to dwell on them for now. Her master had taught her that with sincere dedication, everything would naturally fall into place.

This principle applied to both Cultivation and cultivating the mind.

Her practice continued until dawn. After washing up, she received breakfast from room service. Liu Zimang opened the bedroom door and emerged, but didn’t even glance in her direction.

As Song Cheng approached Liu Zimang to speak, a knock sounded at the door.

She didn’t need to guess; it had to be Zhang Yux.

She initially hesitated to open the door, wanting to use this time to talk properly with Zimang. But Zimang stirred.

“You eat first. I’ll get the door,” Zimang said, walking to the entrance and opening it.

Zhang Yux acted as if Song Cheng weren’t even there, shoving her aside and striding in. “I’d heard the hotel breakfast was amazing, so I woke up early to try it. But it’s nothing special compared to other hotels. I asked a waiter and found out the lavish breakfast is only for guests in the presidential suite.”

Song Cheng glanced sideways and saw Zhang Yux had taken her seat. She quickly moved forward, grabbing the bowl of porridge from the tray before Zhang Yux could touch it.

She wasn’t going to film on an empty stomach.

Zhang Yux curled her lip and picked up a steak, settling on the other side of the coffee table to eat.

Noticing Liu Zimang hadn’t touched her food, Song Cheng quickly said, “The porridge is pretty good. Want to try some?”

Zhang Yux cut in with a disdainful tone, “You don’t even know Ziman hates porridge? You deserve to sleep on the sofa.”

Song Cheng: “……”

“Then how about steak?” Seeing Liu Zimang’s eyes flicker, Song Cheng immediately pulled the other steak plate toward herself. The knife in her hand seemed to possess a life of its own, moving with remarkable speed and precision to cut the steak into perfectly uniform pieces.

Watching this, Zhang Yux swallowed her mouthful of steak and shifted closer to Liu Zimang. In a voice only the two of them could hear, she whispered, “Aside from certain… areas, she’s not bad. Should we just make it work?”

Song Cheng seized on the key point: When exactly was she “not good”?

As if sensing her thoughts, Liu Zimang shot her a sharp glance. Song Cheng immediately recalled her hasty retreat the previous day and hung her head. Fine, she was the one who couldn’t handle it.

But this was only temporary.

The words that had risen to her lips died unspoken as she met Liu Zimang’s profile.

After finishing their meal, they descended to the lobby, where SL’s car was already waiting at the hotel entrance.

True to her principle of not wasting time, Song Cheng confirmed that Liu Zimang didn’t want to talk and closed her eyes for a light nap.

Thirty minutes later, the car stopped. She pushed open the door and found herself facing a courtyard house steeped in historical charm.

“This season, our main theme is vintage colors. After much deliberation, we decided this courtyard was the perfect setting,” Lisa said, gesturing for them to follow as she continued, “The stylist is ready. Once you’ve finalized your looks, you can start makeup immediately.”

Noticing Liu Zimang was admiring the courtyard’s design and hadn’t noticed the uneven ground, Lisa quickly doubled back to her side. “Watch your step,” she said, naturally extending her hand for Liu Zimang to take.

Liu Zimang initially hesitated, but under Lisa’s persistent gaze, she decisively raised her hand and placed it in Song Cheng’s palm.

If I can’t get her into bed, I’ll at least mark her as mine, she thought, letting everyone know our relationship is special.

Song Cheng, oblivious to Liu Zimang’s ulterior motives, found herself walking slowly to accommodate Liu Zimang’s pace. Bored, she began to study the courtyard’s design.

To the left of the path stood an artificial rockery, from which crystal-clear water trickled slowly through moss and weeds. A few meters away, several pomegranate trees with gnarled, ancient trunks suggested they had stood there for decades.

To the right of the path, peonies and other unfamiliar greenery added a touch of vitality to the otherwise desolate courtyard.

After traversing a corridor nearly ten meters long, they entered the side courtyard, where a completely different scene unfolded. Photographers and staff were bustling about, but the moment they saw the women arrive, they paused their work and instinctively turned to look, their faces and eyes filled with delight and awe.

However, when Lisa’s gaze met theirs, they immediately lowered their heads and resumed their tasks.

Climbing the steps, Song Cheng and Liu Zimang stopped in the pavilion. At Lisa’s signal, the stylist immediately approached.

“Teacher Song has a strong aura of an ancient martial arts heroine. I suggest keeping her makeup and styling simple. Teacher Liu already possesses natural advantages, so her styling should also remain understated. What do you think, Director Lisa?”

“What do you two think?” Lisa asked.

“Sounds good,” Liu Zimang replied, already stepping forward to follow the stylist into the prepared dressing room to change.

Song Cheng was about to follow when she remembered Lisa’s mention of a bedroom scene yesterday. She immediately walked over to Lisa. “Will the added scene be shot indoors or outdoors?”

“Indoors.”

“And the wardrobe? Will it be revealing?” Song Cheng pressed.