The Breakup Didn’t Stop Me From Owning the World - Chapter 23

The progress of Shadows of the Republic was relatively slow, and Jiang Qianrou still hadn’t managed to adapt a complete script. However, since it was funded by Tianhao, no one in the crew dared to question anything—after all, it was the investor’s money being burned, not theirs.

 

Inside the makeup room, Fu Yao had just finished a styling session and was preparing to shoot promotional stills with the male lead. When Jiang Qianrou entered, she immediately dismissed the makeup artist and sat down in front of Fu Yao with a darkened expression to complain:

 

“Yaoyao, Lan Muyu has gone too far this time. She must still hold a grudge against us and has already bribed people around us.”

 

Fu Yao had been busy with promotional work all afternoon and had no idea what had happened online. She frowned in confusion. “What’s going on?”

 

“Our crew hasn’t bought any press releases in the early stages, but with filming about to start, I wanted to generate some hype for the future. So I paid off a few marketing accounts. But who would’ve thought Lan Muyu already knew I planned to leverage the popularity of Clouds and Wind’s original novel? She—she—”

 

“What did she do?” Fu Yao’s expression darkened instantly.

 

Jiang Qianrou kept a straight face, but her eyes gradually welled up with tears. “She must have known my plan in advance. Before I could release any news, she bribed paparazzi to accuse Limited Edition of plagiarism. By the time the press releases I arranged went out, netizens were already convinced they had wronged Limited Edition. And Lan Muyu even took the opportunity to deliberately craft a perfect public image in front of the reporters I hired, just to boost her own popularity. Now, all of Weibo is praising her.”

 

Jiang Qianrou conveniently omitted the fact that she had been the one to bribe paparazzi to frame Limited Edition for plagiarism. After all, she deeply regretted it now. If she hadn’t tried to hype up her own crew while simultaneously smearing Limited Edition with false accusations, she wouldn’t be in such a difficult position.

 

The problem was, she had no solid evidence. She had originally planned to bribe one of Limited Edition’s screenwriters, but who would’ve guessed that a crew full of newcomers would have tighter security than an experienced production team? It was practically impenetrable.

 

Since she couldn’t bribe anyone from the opposing crew, she had to resort to other methods of framing them. But now, despite spending money and pulling strings, the situation had spiraled completely out of her control.

 

Who would’ve thought that the docile Lan Muyu Fu Yao had described could be so sharp-tongued? Now, all the hype was on her side. If Fu Yao didn’t stand with her now, Jiang Qianrou truly didn’t know what to do. So she carefully chose her words, half-revealing and half-concealing the truth, just to secure Fu Yao’s support.

 

Fu Yao opened Weibo and skimmed through the trending topics, displeased. “But why didn’t you just announce from the start that our crew was adapting Clouds and Wind?”

 

Jiang Qianrou’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly recovered. She stood up, feigning hurt, and turned away. “I—I thought letting netizens uncover the truth themselves would generate more hype than if we announced it outright. How was I supposed to know Lan Muyu would… Fine, this is all my fault for meddling. I won’t interfere again.”

 

Fu Yao was skeptical, but seeing Jiang Qianrou so upset, she didn’t press further. “You were just trying to help the crew. It’s Lan Muyu who’s scheming. I never realized she was this kind of person before.”

 

“Exactly. She’s clearly doing this to humiliate you. Remember that investor who helped her at Minglai Pavilion? Now that Lan Muyu has a powerful backer, of course she doesn’t have to worry about anything. She’s absolutely gloating.”

 

“I misjudged Lan Muyu. Thank goodness you returned to the country, otherwise I wouldn’t know how long I’d remain deceived by her.” Fu Yao held Jiang Qianrou’s hand. “Our top priority now is to create an even bigger selling point to overshadow the hype around ‘Limited Edition.'”

 

After some thought, Jiang Qianrou suggested, “How about… you come home with me to the Jiang family tonight? My grandfather’s understanding of films far surpasses ours. Maybe we can ask him for ideas?”

 

“It would be great if Director Jiang could help promote for us.”

 

Jiang Qianrou hinted, “No, no—perhaps he could do even more for us?”

 

Though Fu Yao didn’t fully grasp Jiang Qianrou’s implication, Jiang Yu’s reputation in the film industry was undeniably overwhelming. If Jiang Yu could lend a hand, both her fame and investments would multiply several times over. “Thank goodness I have you.”

 

“Mmm, but… my grandfather won’t just help outsiders for nothing.” Jiang Qianrou looked at Fu Yao with some hesitation.

 

Jiang Qianrou had always wanted to formalize their relationship. The Jiang family might sound prestigious, but they lacked substantial wealth. She also knew exactly what Fu Yao wanted. If she could use this opportunity to firmly bind Fu Yao to her, it wouldn’t be a bad deal.

 

Fu Yao immediately understood Jiang Qianrou’s meaning and played along, “It’s getting late. Let’s hurry and buy some gifts. This is my first time meeting the parents, after all.”

 

Jiang Qianrou was very pleased with Fu Yao’s emphasis on “first time,” and the anger she’d felt before entering the dressing room completely dissipated.

 

 

Meanwhile, on the other side, the “Limited Edition” crew still had night scenes to film, so Lan Muyu stayed with the team, monitoring online reactions alongside Gu Yan.

 

Just then, Lan Muyu’s phone rang—it was Li Ruonan calling. Lan Muyu’s mood visibly brightened. Noticing the caller ID, Gu Yan couldn’t resist teasing, “Go ahead and answer. Don’t keep our investor waiting.”

 

Lan Muyu grabbed her phone and hurried aside, but the call ended before she could pick up.

 

She redialed, and Li Ruonan answered almost immediately, her tone laced with impatience. “Why didn’t you answer my call?”

 

“There was an issue with the crew this afternoon, and I was just handling it. What’s up?”

 

“My secretary recommended another private restaurant today. I had her reserve a table for us. I’ll take you there later.” Li Ruonan spoke as though she was reluctantly including Lan Muyu, but her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

 

Lan Muyu glanced at the busy crew outside and sighed. “Something happened on set today, and I have night scenes to shoot. I don’t have time for dinner with you. I might not even come home tonight, so go to bed early, okay?”

 

Oh? Now she’s so busy filming she won’t even come home?

 

Without hesitation, Li Ruonan ended the call. She looked at the documents in front of her and summoned her secretary. “No need to postpone the meeting. Notify everyone to have dinner quickly—the meeting will proceed as scheduled at six.”

 

The secretary, who had just made dinner plans with her partner, nearly cried at the news. Struggling, she asked, “President Li, what about the reservation you asked me to make earlier…?”

 

“Cancelled, work comes first.”

 

“Alright.” The secretary glanced at the time—only half an hour left until the end of the workday—but she couldn’t say anything. She simply took the documents to arrange the meeting details.

 

The meeting was to discuss the Azure Cloud Pavilion project. For Li Corporation, this project didn’t originally require Li Ruonan’s personal involvement. But since she had called for the meeting, no one dared to object.

 

During the meeting, the conference room was shrouded in gloom, the atmosphere unbearably tense.

 

Li Ruonan swept her gaze over the people at the table, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk as if hammering into each person’s nerves. Whenever the rhythm slowed during a report, the presenting team would immediately grow anxious.

 

After Li Ruonan had rejected countless proposals, the planning staff all wore expressions of despair, unsure how to proceed. They turned to Fang Qi, the original person in charge of the branch company, with pleading looks.

 

But Fang Qi avoided their gazes. What could he do? Li Ruonan was the head of the parent company—how could he possibly oppose her?

 

He could only lower his head, staring at his laptop, pretending to be deep in thought.

 

“Ding dong—” A WeChat notification sounded. Fang Qi, as if seizing an opportunity to break the deadlock, raised his voice sharply, “Who—who didn’t mute their phone for the meeting? Stand up!”

 

Yet no one moved. Even a few of Fang Qi’s close associates beside him shot him meaningful glances. Confused, Fang Qi added fiercely, “Daring to leave your ringer on but not own up to it, huh? If no one admits it, I’ll dock your attendance bonuses.”

 

At that, the people who had been signaling him all covered their faces in unison. Then, they heard Li Ruonan speak coolly: “It was me.”

 

Fang Qi stiffly turned his head, only to hear Li Ruonan add, “But it seems you’ve never paid me an attendance bonus.”

 

The moment the words left her mouth, the entire conference room struggled to hold back laughter. Fang Qi froze in his seat. “O-of course your phone doesn’t need to be muted, President Li. You must have official business—this doesn’t count, this doesn’t count.”

 

Li Ruonan gave a noncommittal hum and picked up her phone to check the message. It was from Lan Muyu:

 

I asked the director for leave and am already home. Are you still at the company? (Shark Shark sad.jpg)

 

The stern line of Li Ruonan’s lips softened slightly as she typed one-handed:

 

Yes. I’m busy.

 

Oh, okay. Then I’ll wait for you at home? (Shark Shark obedient.jpg)

 

Mm.

 

The moment she set her phone down, Li Ruonan’s cold demeanor returned. She addressed the room without mercy:

 

“So, after all these days of preparation, this is what you show me? Are Li Corporation’s hiring standards this low now? What exactly is HR doing?”

 

Everyone in the conference room lowered their heads. The Azure Cloud Pavilion project had been acquired by Li Corporation on short notice, leaving them little time to prepare. None of the proposals were perfect.

 

Fang Qi, as the leader, had been observing Li Ruonan closely and hadn’t missed the subtle shift in her expression when she checked her phone. Tentatively, he ventured, “President Li, do we have a new project? If you have urgent matters, please go ahead. Leave this to me—we’ll definitely come up with a suitable proposal.”

 

“Then I’ll leave it to you.” Li Ruonan tacitly accepted Fang Qi’s reasoning and left the conference room expressionlessly—though her steps were noticeably quicker than before.

 

Although the driver didn’t understand Li Ruonan’s urgency, upon being told to drive faster, he managed to get her home in half the usual time.

 

As soon as Li Ruonan stepped through the door, a strange smell assaulted her senses.

 

Lan Muyu was in the kitchen, wearing an apron and cooking something. Hearing the door open, she turned around with a bright smile. “You’re back so soon?”

 

Li Ruonan’s brows furrowed at the smell. “The driver had something to attend to at home, so I had him drive faster.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Seeing Lan Muyu turn back to the stove, Li Ruonan curiously approached. The contents of the pot were burnt to a crisp, a blackened mess that was impossible to identify.

 

“You’re eating this?”

 

Lan Muyu scratched her head, feeling rather aggrieved that she’d taken time off from filming to come home, only for Li Ruonan to have eaten who-knows-where. “When you’re not home, ordering takeout is risky—what if someone recognizes me? You didn’t leave me any food, so I had to cook for myself.”

 

“What about your manager? Doesn’t she take care of you?”

 

“Earlier, when you asked me out to eat, I thought you hadn’t eaten yet, so I told Sister Ling to go ahead.” Lan Muyu shot Li Ruonan a glance as she scooped the charred contents from the pot. “Stop lecturing me and just let me eat, okay?”

 

Li Ruonan immediately stopped her, burning her fingers when she tried to grab the bowl and quickly pulling back. “You’re not eating this garbage!”

 

“Fine, then I’ll just starve,” Lan Muyu said, her voice dripping with exaggerated misery.

 

Li Ruonan was torn between anger and amusement. Was this woman really so incapable of taking care of herself?

 

“Lan Muyu,” she said coldly, “when I asked you to eat, you said you were busy. Now you’re blaming me? I give you a place to stay and invest in you—is that not enough? Now I have to feed you too? Should I get an award for Philanthropist of the Year?”

 

Lan Muyu turned to her, eyes sparkling. “Really? I’ll order one for you right away. Nine-ninety with free shipping on Taobao—I can afford that.”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Aw, come on! You’re already providing shelter—what’s wrong with adding meals? If you feed me, I’ll provide other services.”

 

“Other services? Do tell.”

 

Lan Muyu swayed her hips suggestively. “You’ll get—a beautiful woman’s dining companionship service! Surprised? Thrilled? Excited?”

 

Li Ruonan: “…”

 

Lan Muyu had a unique talent for making freeloading sound classy.

 

“So, are you going to feed me or not? If you don’t, I really will have to eat this tonight.” Lan Muyu made a move to grab the bowl of blackened food.

 

Li Ruonan sighed in resignation. “I’ll order something for you.”

 

“Great!” Lan Muyu dumped the contents into the trash, adding, “Don’t underestimate this, by the way. It was Buddha Jumps Over the Wall—I had someone specially bring the ingredients. I just lost track of time and burned it.”

 

“Right. Don’t bother next time.”

 

Lan Muyu hinted meaningfully, “The ingredients for Buddha Jumps Over the Wall are really expensive.”

 

“And?”

 

Lan Muyu held out her hand. “I was going to learn to make it for you, so consider it a training expense. You should reimburse me, right?”

 

Too exhausted to argue, Li Ruonan opened WeChat and sent her a 200-yuan red packet.

 

Lan Muyu swiftly pocketed the red packet and bounced over to the sofa, flopping down without even taking off her slippers, looking utterly pleased with herself.

 

Dinner would take some time to arrive. Li Ruonan sat on another sofa, reviewing the proposal sent to her laptop, but the lingering scent of cooking oil wafting from Lan Muyu finally became too much. She couldn’t hold back any longer: “Go take a shower.”

 

Lan Muyu slowly lowered her head, biting her lip. “Though I sell my talents, not my body… if you really need it, I can—”

 

“Can what?” Li Ruonan abruptly stood up, scolding Lan Muyu. “Get those ridiculous thoughts out of your head.”

 

With that, Li Ruonan strode straight toward the staircase. Suppressing a laugh, Lan Muyu called out loudly, “Then who’s going to get the takeout for me?”

 

Li Ruonan paused mid-step, turned around with an exasperated sigh, and resignedly walked back. “Go shower. I’ll get it for you.”

 

“Thanks.” Lan Muyu picked up her phone and sent Li Ruonan a one-yuan red packet. “Consider these hundred yuan your delivery fee!”

 

Li Ruonan chuckled softly, opened the red packet on her phone, and froze at the sight of “1.00.” She really shouldn’t have expected too much from Lan Muyu.

 

Her little fox was as cunning as ever.

 

By the time Lan Muyu finished showering, the takeout had arrived. It was nearly nine o’clock. Since Li Ruonan had barely eaten at the office earlier—having been turned down by Lan Muyu—she decided to join her for dinner.

 

But as they ate, Lan Muyu’s pace gradually slowed, her gaze drifting absently into space.

 

Li Ruonan picked up a clean pair of chopsticks and tapped Lan Muyu’s bowl. “What’s on your mind?”

 

“Huh?” Lan Muyu snapped back to reality. “Oh, nothing, nothing.”

 

Remembering Lan Muyu mentioning earlier that something had gone wrong on set today, Li Ruonan assumed it must be serious if Lan Muyu didn’t want to trouble her. She pressed, “Tell me the truth.”

 

Lan Muyu set down her chopsticks, hesitating for a few seconds as if facing an insurmountable dilemma. “I was thinking…”

 

Li Ruonan reassured her, “What is it? Tell me, and I’ll help you solve it.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

Lan Muyu grinned slyly. “I was thinking… since it’s almost nine, maybe we don’t have to cut the power tonight?”

 

Li Ruonan: “…”

 

So much for worrying about her. Turns out she was just overthinking for no reason?

 

Li Ruonan scoffed. “You want to stay up late again?”

 

“Mmm… can I?”

 

“Finished reading your script? Memorized your lines? Can you come home every day to have dinner with me?”

 

Ouch. That was hard to argue with.

 

Still, Lan Muyu struggled to defend herself. “You have to believe me—I have the self-control befitting an adult.”

 

“Oh? Don’t think I don’t know you kept the lights on all night after snatching the circuit breaker key that one time.”

 

Damn it! Was it really because she lacked self-control that she hadn’t slept that night?

 

No—it was because Li Ruonan had been too tempting!

 

She wasn’t a nun. After rolling around like that in Li Ruonan’s room, how could she possibly stay composed?

 

But Lan Muyu couldn’t say that outright, so she swallowed her words and picked up her chopsticks again, eating with exaggerated frustration.

 

Watching her antics, Li Ruonan served her more food and teased, “Such a child.”

 

Lan Muyu was about to retort when Ling Shan’s call came through: “Are you free right now? Go check the trending search immediately!”