The Gorgeous Omega Came to Seduce Me [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 11

“How unusual for you to seek me out voluntarily.”

Qin Su, Sky Brilliance’s executive vice president, stood before the antique coffee machine she’d meticulously paired with her office bar counter, watching the indifferent young Alpha on her sofa with amusement. Her slightly husky voice carried an unconscious arrogance, her tone confident and unhurried.

The sound of coffee pouring into the cup echoed through the overly quiet office. The earlier remark had fallen flat, unanswered.

Qin Su lowered her eyes with a smile, unbothered by the lack of response as if dealing with a willful child.

“Here, made to your taste—no milk or sugar,” Qin Su said leisurely as she approached the sofa, placing the coffee before Ji Liao.

“Thank you,” Ji Liao replied flatly.

“Let’s hear it then. What made you change your mind so suddenly?” Qin Su settled into the single armchair of the sofa set, crossing her long legs as she regarded Ji Liao with a knowing smile.

“No particular reason. I just don’t feel like leaving anymore.” Ji Liao didn’t even glance at Qin Su, her long lashes were lowering as she took a sip of coffee.

Qin Su chuckled softly. “Those conditions you insisted on when signing the contract gave me such a headache back then. It made tremendous effort to convince the board. And now you’re just casually discarding them?”

“Has the value I’ve created not outweighed those initial demands?” Ji Liao met Qin Su’s gaze calmly, her understated confidence evident.

Qin Su paused in surprise, opening her mouth before laughing helplessly. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Ji Liao gave her a sidelong glance, unsure what Qin Su meant.

Qin Su studied Ji Liao with interest. “Outwardly humble and low-key, yet there might not be anyone in all of Sky Brilliance more audacious than you.”

Ji Liao hesitated, withdrawing her gaze. She thought this was pure slander—she always simply spoke her mind.

Seeing Ji Liao’s detached demeanor, Qin Su relaxed her posture, adopting a more candid tone. “Look, I’ve always admired you. I’d like to back you no matter what. But times have changed, and the circumstances are slightly different now.”

Ji Liao swept a glance at her but remained silent.

“…” Left without a response, Qin Su had to continue on her own. “You know your current scandal involves conflict with your contracted artist. Commercially speaking… it’s hard to assess the impact.”

This time, Ji Liao looked directly at Qin Su, still composed. “If you hadn’t already thought of ways to profit from this controversy, you wouldn’t have agreed to meet me. Just say what you want to say.”

Qin Su fell silent for a moment before shaking her head with a wry smile.

“Fine,” Qin Su said, slumping back into the sofa after her laughter, finally dropping the pretense to reveal her shrewd business persona. “Then you must be prepared now. Even if just to resolve this scandal, you should lower your pride and accept the company’s arrangements.”

“Not necessarily,” Ji Liao took another sip of coffee. “I still won’t accept anything too unreasonable.”

Qin Su laughed in exasperation. “Is this how you ask for favors?”

Ji Liao: “You could always freeze me out.”

Qin Su was momentarily speechless.

The only reason she didn’t force Ji Liao to stay was because years ago, when Ji Liao had agreed to add an exorbitant penalty clause to the contract in exchange for certain conditions. If Ji Liao stubbornly insisted on terminating the contract, the massive payout couldn’t simply be ignored.

On the other hand, if Ji Liao chose to slack off and ignore the scandals entirely, Sky Brilliance would suffer the greatest losses.

Having a highly talented genius sitting idle without generating value was a waste in itself, and if the company initiated the termination, it would only hand an opportunity to their competitors. As for Ji Liao, she could just stay at home, comfortably living off the royalties from her hit songs—what could be more leisurely?

However, if someone else had said this to Qin Su, she would have scoffed without hesitation.

She had seen plenty of people in the fame game who were eager to climb the ladder—each one sharp, shrewd, and calculating. No one would let even the slightest chance to turn things around slip through their fingers.

But if Ji Liao said it… Qin Su truly believed she meant every word.

Whether it was the adoration of outsiders or the temptations of wealth, power, and indulgence, Ji Liao’s attitude remained indifferent, as if she were merely passing through the entertainment industry, rolling through the world of fame, and emerging just as clean and detached as before.

Knowing she couldn’t threaten or entice Ji Liao, Qin Su simply changed the subject: “Here’s the company’s stance—your scandal issue must be resolved, no half-measures. Only if your commercial value rises another tier, surpassing Cheng Mi’s, can we convince the board to allocate resources to you instead of Cheng Mi, who’s currently at the peak of her career.”

Ji Liao sipped her coffee, considering the words.

Truthfully, she didn’t care whether resources were directed her way or not. At worst, she’d be exploited a little more and assigned lower-quality projects. It wasn’t that she couldn’t write, but in Qin Su’s eyes, such an arrangement would likely be considered “wasted potential.”

Qin Su had always favored her over Cheng Mi, deeply regretting her own efforts to support Cheng Mi all this time.

Now, asking her to elevate her commercial value beyond Cheng Mi’s seemed less about preserving her status as a “precious asset”—a top-tier composer—and more like a gamble… Betting on Cheng Mi or betting on herself? Whose judgment would prove better?

Ji Liao smiled faintly and looked at Qin Su. “Are you getting promoted?”

Qin Su paused, then laughed, her gaze at Ji Liao unreadable—somewhere between admiration and something else. “Don’t be so sharp.”

Ji Liao averted her eyes. “So, what’s your plan?”

Qin Su ran her thumb along the rim of her coffee cup, studying Ji Liao. “Show your face.”

“What?” Ji Liao blinked.

“The company is collaborating with Fruit TV on a dating show that’s been hyped for a while now. They still have one guest slot left,” Qin Su said.

Ji Liao fell silent for a moment. “…You want me to go on a dating show?”

Qin Su: “Not to date—to be a Love Consultant.”

Ji Liao frowned, the term sounding familiar. After a moment, she asked, “Are you talking about that variety show A Moment of Affection?”

Qin Su stirred her coffee. “Yes.”

Ji Liao’s expression cooled. “Isn’t that Cheng Mi’s show? The production team has already announced her as a permanent cast member. What do you want me to do there—feed into the drama?”

Qin Su glanced at her but didn’t respond.

Meeting Qin Su’s meaningful gaze, Ji Liao closed her eyes briefly, exasperated. “Do we really have to go head-to-head with her?”

“Otherwise, is there a better solution?” Qin Su asked. “Any avoidance would just give Cheng Mi the chance to distort the truth and create smokescreens. Only by facing her openly can you shut everyone up.”

…And incidentally step over Cheng Mi to climb higher.

Ji Liao rubbed her thumb thoughtfully but remained silent.

Qin Su steeled herself and took a gamble: “Of course, you can refuse. But aside from this opportunity, the company won’t discuss anything else with you.”

“Either get shelved and waste the next ten years like this, or join this variety show and surpass Cheng Mi to become Sky Brilliance’s biggest cash cow.”

Ji Liao stared blankly at the coffee in her cup for a while. Just as Qin Su thought this rebellious woman was about to refuse, Ji Liao’s phone on the side pinged.

The crisp notification tone was a soft meow, gentle like a Ragdoll cat. Ji Liao snapped out of her daze and glanced at her phone, sighing helplessly. “I understand.”

Qin Su raised an eyebrow. “So… you agree?”

Ji Liao: “Mhm.”

Qin Su couldn’t help but look at Ji Liao’s phone again. “Then I’ll notify the production team. Come sign the contract when it’s ready.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Ji Liao stood up, gripping her phone.

Qin Su was long accustomed to Ji Liao’s habit of leaving immediately after conversations and didn’t think much of it. But her gaze lingered on Ji Liao’s phone for a long while. Just as Ji Liao was about to open the office door to leave, Qin Su finally called out:

“Are you… seeing someone?”

After all, Ji Liao was someone who only used default ringtones. There was no way she’d customize notification sounds for unimportant people.

Ji Liao already had her hand on the doorknob. At Qin Su’s question, she tilted her head slightly, paused for a beat, then replied with three words: “Not really.”

After all, she still hadn’t figured out Mu Shenshen’s intentions.

Though Mu Shenshen stubbornly chased after her and clung to her, it felt more like a spoiled young lady’s whim than genuine romantic interest. Right now, she was only taking responsibility because of the temporary mark she’d left on Mu Shenshen… That hardly counted as dating.

Ji Liao walked down two floors to the administrative office area before stopping to enter the restroom.

Everyone in this building knew her, and she couldn’t be bothered with small talk. The administrative area was usually sparsely populated, so she didn’t have to worry about interruptions.

At the sink, Ji Liao turned on her phone and opened the messages. There was a new notification under Mu Shenshen’s name.

A small red circle displayed the number 3. Ji Liao tapped it to see Mu Shenshen simply asking when she’d be back, along with two cat-rolling-around stickers.

Ji Liao couldn’t help the slight curve of her lips as she prepared to reply. Suddenly, the restroom door swung open, and the person who entered froze upon seeing her.

When Ji Liao looked up, there was still a trace of warmth at the corners of her mouth, but her expression cooled instantly upon recognizing the person at the door.

The flustered female alpha standing there was one of Cheng Mi’s assistants—the very person who had first “discovered” her and Cheng Mi in that compromising situation.

“Ji… Ji-laoshi,” Chen Mian stood awkwardly at the doorway, clearly confused.

Ji Liao expressionlessly put away her phone and acknowledged the greeting with a hum, preparing to leave. But Chen Mian hastily spoke up: “Ji-laoshi! You… are you here at the company for… something?””Mm,” Ji Liao glanced back at her, “handling some matters.”

“Uh… well,” Chen Mian struggled to find a topic, “Cheng—Xiao Mi still misses you a lot. Recently you…”

But Ji Liao had no intention of humoring Chen Mian’s questions. His gaze swept over the document folder in her hand. “Here to get a stamp?”

“Ah, yes,” Chen Mian looked down at the folder in her hands, “this is…”

“Then go get it done.”

Ji Liao coolly and decisively cut off the conversation, indifferently shifting his gaze before turning to leave the restroom.