Chapter 1: Mr. Fu’s Masterful Tactics

The biting winds of January scoured the imperial capital, while fine snowflakes spun and drifted in the air, adorning the streets in a blanket of silver white. Jiang Yu lifted her hand to adjust the red evening gown draped over her shoulder, her cold, stunning makeup concealing a trace of impatience.

She emerged from the styling room and went straight to the waiting nanny van.

“Sister Yu, Mr. Fu wants us at the Cloudtop Club. He said you’re meeting with some partners,” her assistant, Song Zhi Ning, murmured as she handed over a shawl.

“Right now?” Jiang Yu arched an eyebrow.

“Yes, Mr. Fu is in a rush.”

A cold laugh escaped Jiang Yu’s lips, a fleeting sneer flickering in her eyes.

The dress she wore was haute couture—bare-backed, the hem barely grazing her knees, fit only for red carpets and photoshoots. And now she was expected to negotiate in such an outfit?

Fu Boyun certainly had grand designs.

As the car glided past the gates of Cloudtop Club, Jiang Yu glanced at the opulent, gilded building, the chill deepening at the corner of her mouth.

Fu Boyun—a domineering, cold titan of industry, holding half the entertainment world in his grasp.

Had it not been for her mother’s illness three years ago, forcing her into desperate need of money, she would never have boarded this pirate’s ship.

She had become Fu Boyun’s kept woman before even graduating from university, bound to this man of overwhelming power by a single contract. He had never truly doted on her, but at least, in the eyes of outsiders, she was well “protected,” spared the filth and sordid deals others endured.

But tonight, that “protection” seemed to have vanished.

“Fu Boyun! What is the meaning of this? Have you grown tired of me already?” Jiang Yu bit her lip, pondering how best to respond.

In the VIP suite, as the door swung open, she was confronted by several faces that turned her stomach. Seated in the center was the most conspicuous—Yu Zhiyuan.

A renowned producer within the industry, notorious for his lechery and ruthless tactics.

Such a man was utterly repugnant.

Jiang Yu immediately turned to leave, only to have her way barred.

“Miss Jiang, Mr. Fu insists you must stay tonight,” came a cold voice from the side.

Jiang Yu looked up to see Fu Boyun’s secretary, Zhuang Luoyan, standing there, a hint of mockery in her eyes.

Zhuang Luoyan had worked beside Fu Boyun for years, often managing Jiang Yu’s affairs over the past three. The two had inevitably accumulated their share of grievances.

Jiang Yu narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t something Mr. Fu would arrange.”

“Believe what you wish.” Zhuang Luoyan’s voice was indifferent as she handed over a contract. “Mr. Fu said, for your future development, he’s arranged a role for you—but it will depend on your performance.”

“Performance?” Jiang Yu laughed coldly.

No sooner had she spoken than Yu Zhiyuan’s voice rang out behind her.

“Come now, Jiang, don’t be so distant. Tonight is your chance—Mr. Fu himself recommended you, and I see great potential in you.”

Jiang Yu turned to face the man whose face was thick with flesh. He clamped a cigar between his lips, the smoke blurring his features but failing to hide the greed in his eyes.

Jiang Yu was no fool; she quickly grasped the nature of this setup. Yu Zhiyuan might be famous, but compared to Fu Boyun, he was insignificant. No doubt, he believed he had caught the eye of a man no one in the capital dared offend.

“Mr. Yu, I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well today. Let’s discuss this another time,” Jiang Yu said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, turning to leave.

“Miss Jiang, if you walk out now, people will say you’re not professional enough,” Zhuang Luoyan said lightly, clapping her hands. Two bodyguards at the door immediately blocked Jiang Yu’s path.

Jiang Yu shot Zhuang Luoyan a cold glance, her voice low: “Fu Boyun is truly creative, using such methods?”

“Miss Jiang, this is your opportunity. Cherish it.” Without another word, Zhuang Luoyan turned and left the suite.