The Breakup Didn’t Stop Me From Owning the World - Chapter 17

The speaker was Fu Yao, accompanied by Jiang Qianrou. The last time Lan Muyu had seen Fu Yao, she had been in a sorry state after losing face at the press conference. Now, however, she seemed much more spirited, with a trace of her former arrogance in her eyes.

Since Tianhao had pushed Fu Yiming out as a scapegoat, the factions within the company had undergone another reshuffle. All of Fu Yiming’s shares had been transferred to Fu Yao’s name. But Fu Yiming was no pushover—he quickly sought out Old Mrs. Fu for an explanation.

Old Mrs. Fu had always doted on this grandson, the son of her eldest son. But Tianhao had originally been the property of her second son. When her grandson came begging, she naturally couldn’t refuse to help.

Yet this time, despite all the crying, tantrums, and even a hunger strike, her second son wasn’t as filial as before. He merely helped Fu Yiming settle his remaining gambling debts and made no further mention of letting him return to Tianhao.

Fu Yao’s father had finally shown some backbone. Although life for Fu Yao’s family within the Fu household remained difficult, Fu Yao had recently been thriving at Tianhao. She had conducted a thorough review of the company’s artists, restricting resources for those who had previously curried favor with Fu Yiming.

For a time, the artists at Tianhao were all on edge, scrambling to ingratiate themselves with Fu Yao whenever they saw her. This greatly satisfied Fu Yao’s vanity, and with her mood improved, her overall demeanor naturally brightened. So when Jiang Qianrou suggested a visit to Minglai Pavilion today, Fu Yao had agreed without hesitation.

The front desk handed Lan Muyu the processed membership card. “Miss Lan, here’s your card. Please keep it safe.”

Lan Muyu nodded in acknowledgment, paid the membership fee, checked the time, and—ignoring the people behind her—headed toward the reserved private room.

“Lan Muyu, are you really not going to speak to me at all now?” Fu Yao’s voice rang out again, the click of her high heels growing closer. Just as she was about to grab Lan Muyu, Xiao Zhang intercepted her.

Xiao Zhang firmly positioned himself between Fu Yao and Lan Muyu. Fu Yao, incensed, shouted, “Lan Muyu, stop right there!”

Lan Muyu turned around, her gaze calm as she looked at Fu Yao, as if she were nothing more than a stranger on the street.

Jiang Qianrou, standing beside Fu Yao, spoke up. “Lan Muyu, you’re so ungrateful. After all the affection YaoYao showed you, you treated her like that at the press conference. Do you have any idea how close you came to ruining her?”

“I do.”

“And you still did it anyway?”

Lan Muyu countered, “Then what should I have done?”

“You—”

Fu Yao patted Jiang Qianrou’s arm and challenged Lan Muyu, “As your former lover, let me give you a piece of advice—Fu Yiming is no good man. He has countless lovers. That you would stoop to attaching yourself to him just to get away from me… I really misjudged you.”

For a moment, Lan Muyu was stunned. She genuinely wanted to crack open Fu Yao’s skull to see how much nuclear wastewater had been poured into her brain. So in Fu Yao’s eyes, she was the kind of person who would casually sell herself for gain?

Meanwhile, Jiang Qianrou comforted Fu Yao. “I told you she wasn’t worth it. I heard from Fu Yitong that Fu Yiming had already taken a liking to Lan Muyu at that birthday banquet. He didn’t even get angry when she threw wine at him. Think about it—when has Fu Yiming ever been that patient?”

Fu Yao’s expression grew increasingly unpleasant; her gaze filled with disdain as she looked at Lan Muyu. “Fu Yiming has nothing without Tianhao. You really miscalculated this time. I heard you just landed the role of the second female lead in some trashy movie. Is this the treatment you get after going to such lengths to leave me and join Xingyao?”

“None of your business.”

When Fu Yao learned about Lan Muyu’s new project, she had wanted to confront her. But she never expected that even after falling to such a state, Lan Muyu would still treat her with the same cold indifference—so aloof and dismissive.

Fu Yao sneered, “I told you you’d regret leaving me. I didn’t expect your downfall to come so quickly. Lan Muyu, even if you beg me in the future, I won’t help you.”

Lan Muyu glanced at Jiang Qianrou behind Fu Yao and feigned surprise, “You even know about the new project I just took? You’re so concerned about me?”

Something felt off to Fu Yao, but before she could react, Lan Muyu continued with a teasing tone, “Thank you, President Fu, for keeping such close tabs on me. I wonder if you still have any time left for Miss Jiang here?”

The moment Lan Muyu finished speaking, Jiang Qianrou’s face darkened, but the instant Fu Yao turned her head, she forced a smile back on. “Don’t listen to her nonsense. I trust you.”

Jiang Qianrou tightened her grip on Fu Yao’s arm and smirked at Lan Muyu. “Lan Muyu, don’t think you can drive a wedge between me and Yaoyao with your tricks, just so you can swoop in.”

Fu Yao, momentarily stunned, quickly caught on and took Jiang Qianrou’s hand. “That’s right. I won’t fall for your schemes.”

Lan Muyu suppressed a laugh. “Then I wish the two of you an eternal happiness.”

As she walked away, Lan Muyu became increasingly convinced that Fu Yao and Jiang Qianrou were a perfect match—one desperately pretending to be magnanimous while twisting others’ words, and the other deluded into thinking she was some priceless treasure.

She began to miss Li Ruonan and hoped this dinner would end soon. Maybe she could still bring some late-night snacks back for her.

By the time she reached the private room, the lively chatter inside was already audible. There was no one at the door, and Lan Muyu didn’t want Xiao Zhang to keep waiting outside, so she told him to grab a meal first and return for her later.

Lan Muyu pushed the door open and stepped inside. The gathering wasn’t large—Han Feifei sat beside a middle-aged man, laughing and acting intimately with him.

Han Feifei wore a low-cut, body-hugging dress, paired with voluminous curls and bold red lips, making Lan Muyu question if she had entered the wrong place.

—It felt less like a dinner and more like a nightclub.

Her entrance drew the attention of those inside. Han Feifei greeted her enthusiastically, “Lan Muyu, you’re finally here! Hurry up and join us!”

The middle-aged man beside her brightened at the sight of Lan Muyu and asked, “And who is this?”

Han Feifei playfully tapped his chest. “President Wang, this is Lan Muyu! We worked together on my last film. Don’t you think fate brought us together?”

“Oh, her.” President Wang’s eyes gleamed greedily as he scrutinized Lan Muyu from head to toe.

“President Wang!” Han Feifei leaned into him, pouting. “Why do you keep staring at her?”

Mr. Wang had just gotten Han Feifei not long ago and was still in the honeymoon phase. He reluctantly tore his gaze away and turned to indulge his little lover, casually pinching Han Feifei’s waist. “She’s nowhere near as exciting as you.”

After saying this, Mr. Wang snapped at Lan Muyu, “Hey, you—Lan whatever. You’re already late, so why don’t you hurry up and take a seat?”

Being late was just an excuse. Even now, there were still over ten minutes left before the agreed-upon time.

The rest of the crew, long accustomed to the entertainment industry, were clearly unfazed by such situations. But Lan Muyu was no stranger to these kinds of scenes either. She glanced around and walked over to sit in a more distant seat.

This dinner had been Han Feifei’s idea. Bringing the investor along was nothing more than an attempt to intimidate the crew and elevate her own status.

The crew played along, giving Han Feifei plenty of face as they took turns toasting her and Mr. Wang. The private room was filled with flattery and Han Feifei’s exaggerated, coquettish laughter. Meanwhile, Mr. Wang’s pudgy hand had already found its way to Han Feifei’s thigh—a sight too cringeworthy to watch.

Yet no matter how hard Han Feifei tried to steal the spotlight, Mr. Wang’s gaze kept drifting back to Lan Muyu. After being stared at one too many times, Lan Muyu grew irritated and excused herself to the restroom.

Lan Muyu turned on the faucet, letting the cold water soothe her impatience. Just then, the door opened again. Han Feifei shot her a sidelong glance before walking to the mirror to touch up her makeup. “Lan Muyu, doesn’t it feel awful to be overshadowed?”

Lan Muyu paused mid-motion. After dealing with Fu Yao and Jiang Qianrou, she hadn’t expected Han Feifei to be next. She had no intention of engaging with her and responded dismissively.

“We’re both in the entertainment industry, but I suggest you sharpen your taste in sugar daddies. Fu Yiming is no match for Fu Yao—what can a man kicked out of Tianhao possibly offer you?”

Lan Muyu frowned. It made sense for Fu Yao to assume this, given that Fu Yiming wanted to overthrow her and had even handed Lan Muyu crucial evidence. But why would Han Feifei think the same way?

“Fu Yiming?”

“Stop pretending. Fu Yiming originally tried to team up with Xingyao to bring down Tianhao, but it didn’t work out, did it? Still, he must really care about you—he didn’t expose you and even let you stay safely at Xingyao.”

Han Feifei studied Lan Muyu’s expression closely. Seeing her silence, she pressed on, “Mr. Wang out there is a bit older, but I hear he’s extremely generous with his lovers. He’s got plenty of spare cash, and investing is all the same to him. With his backing, you’d have a say in the crew. Doesn’t that tempt you?”

“Sure, why not?”

Lan Muyu’s compliance left Han Feifei momentarily stunned. “You—you—”

“Just playing along,” Lan Muyu sneered, glancing at Han Feifei’s small purse. “Otherwise, how would you record this and complete your mission?”