Second Sister's Annoyance: Are You Really That Greedy

"Wu Jilong might seem unmarried on the surface, but who knows how messy his private life is? He divorced his ex-wife because of his agent, and then the female agent also got divorced. After that, the two were spotted wearing matching outfits, shoes, hats, and bags… tsk tsk."

"No wonder now that the show 'Heart Shock' is blowing up, the agent feels cheated and jumps out to bite Cao Cheng."

"How can this be tolerated? Every random nobody thinks they can ride the hype? What kind of low-tier agent does this woman think she is? Does she really believe she’s some hotshot, daring to provoke my man?"

"Attack her."

Cao Cheng’s fans, who were initially just here for the drama, quickly joined the fight—after all, they had nothing better to do.

Ren's Agent was bombarded to the point of questioning her life choices.

With Cao Cheng’s fans leading the charge, others followed suit, hurling every insult imaginable.

Some even started digging up old photos, and sure enough, they found plenty of intimate interactions between Wu Jilong and his agent from Taiwan.

The more you looked, the more suspicious it seemed.

This was some juicy gossip—one divorced his wife, the other divorced her husband. It was impossible not to speculate.

But hey,

at least it brought them some attention.

...

That afternoon.

A hotel.

The female agent sat bare-legged, her laptop resting on her thighs as she scrolled through the online backlash.

Beside her, Wu Jilong frowned deeply. "This is getting out of hand. How do we even clean this up?"

"Hah, haters are still fans. Negative buzz is still buzz."

Ren's Agent scoffed. "How much can you even earn in Taiwan? Sure, the shops and companies we own look profitable on paper, but you know the real numbers, don’t you?"

"But the mainland… such a massive market…"

"You think I’ve been hustling for resources here just to make you famous?"

"Artists barely make anything."

"What I want is clout. The three of you got lucky back then, riding the fame of 'Little Flying Tigers' for half your lives. But that fame won’t last forever."

"Remember when you performed at the Spring Festival Gala two years ago? It was all the rage, but once the show ended, everything went back to normal. Do you see anyone asking for a reunion now?"

"'Little Flying Tigers'? They’re washed up!"

"Gone."

"The fans don’t care anymore."

"The old fans are either aging or gone, and the younger generation has no taste. Who even knows you now?"

"The only one doing somewhat okay is that Su guy. He’s smart—sticking to the mainland. Look at the garbage he’s been filming these past two years just to stay relevant."

"'Searching for Third Sister Liu'?"

"Or that 'New Kangding Love Song'?"

"What even is that?"

"But no matter how trashy his projects are, he still wins awards. That’s his genius."

"And he looks younger than you, more cheerful, better at faking it. His public image is miles ahead…"

As the agent ranted, Wu Jilong’s expression darkened.

He wasn’t mad at her—he knew this was just her blunt way of speaking.

But he directed his frustration at Su instead.

Nothing stings more than comparison.

Even within 'Little Flying Tigers,' the three were constantly measured against each other.

Mention one, and the other two would inevitably come up.

In other words, the better Su did, the worse the other two looked.

That was an inescapable truth.

Seeing Wu’s face grow stormier,

"Regretting following me now? Go find Su then. Maybe he’ll give you what you want."

The agent knew she’d pushed enough. Any further, and he’d snap.

After all these years, she knew him too well.

With a coquettish laugh, she stretched out her leg, brushing the sole of her foot against his cheek. "Relax, you’re the hottest of the three. Why else would I adore you so much?"

That flattery smoothed things over.

Then,

the agent continued, "So we’re doing this for pride. We need the hype, a comeback in the mainland. Doesn’t matter what Taiwan thinks—your reputation here isn’t bad."

Wu Jilong knew she was right.

"The mainland market is enormous, nothing like Taiwan."

"A resurgence is the goal."

"Then we can milk the fans for all they’re worth."

"Fans don’t have brains."

"If we don’t take their money, who will?"

"But first, we need fame. A name."

"Plus, nostalgia from your old fans will pull in new ones."

Wu nodded along as the agent rambled.

This could’ve been their chance. Sure, the pay for 'Heart Shock' was insultingly low,

but it was based on a popular novel with a built-in fanbase.

That’s why they’d agreed to it.

Yet in the end…

they got replaced.

Once the agent finished, Wu hesitated. "But directly attacking Cao Cheng… won’t that backfire? I’ve heard he’s not just rich but petty. What if he blacklists me? It won’t kill my career, but we’d be stuck in Taiwan."

"Relax."

The agent hid her own unease. "We didn’t name names, and we’re not lying. We were swapped out last minute—the contract was practically signed…"

"Besides, with 'Heart Shock' so hot right now, this scandal can paint you as the victim. Sympathy points are gold."

"Sympathy?" Wu pointed at the laptop. "All I see is people cursing us out."

The agent smirked. "People naturally side with the underdog. The more they hate us now, the more they’ll pity us later. So we stay quiet."

"Wait for the right moment."

"When it comes, you’ll step into the spotlight. Remember—during interviews, no anger, no cold stares. Play the helpless card. Say you had no idea, that it was all my doing as your agent. Apologize sincerely, make the fans feel for you."

Wu finally relaxed.

As long as they didn’t actually cross Cao Cheng.

He still remembered meeting Cao Cheng once—how effortlessly the young billionaire joked around with CCTV executives.

A tycoon. The youngest one at that.

With theaters, capital, media companies, and now a skyrocketing cosmetics brand under his belt.

Was this someone he could afford to mess with?

Even if he had money—even if he bragged about making hundreds of millions a year—it was nothing compared to Cao.

As for pinning the blame on the agent? Standard procedure.

Everyone in the industry did it.

If agents didn’t take the fall, what were they even for?

Bottom line:

The artist’s image must stay pristine.

"You’re the best, Yue’er."

"Only realizing that now? Hmph."

"Heh, I’ve always known."

Soon, the two were tangled up…

The laptop lay forgotten on the bed.

Half an hour later.

Both men, now comfortable, resumed their discussion.

They brainstormed how to manipulate fans, garner sympathy, and ideally, establish a talent agency in the mainland to sign local artists. That way, they could elevate their status. After all, the mainland’s development was booming, progressing faster than ever...

Oh, right.

They could also collaborate with that little punk surnamed Su to ride on his popularity.

That Su guy had an unreal level of public goodwill.

No surprise there—whether it was the "Little Flying Tiger's Good Boy" or the "Fifth Prince" role, both were nostalgia bombs for fans. Plus, he kept showing up as a groomsman at weddings, and his industry connections were ridiculously solid.

"Tsk—"

What an eyesore!

Cao Cheng watched an unnamed video. The past half hour... well, how to put it?

He had to hand it to Old Wu.

Despite his age, the man had serious skills.

Though Cao Cheng himself had wrapped things up in five minutes, Old Wu didn’t just zip up and bail. Instead, he spent over twenty minutes working his magic to ensure mutual satisfaction...

Setting everything else aside, that approach alone put him ahead of 95% of men.

No wonder Ren's Agent was willing to divorce and follow him.

There was a reason for it.

Everyone had their shining points.

Even Cao Cheng was impressed.

He’d gladly dub him: Wu·Golden Fingers·Long!

Clearly a disciple of the legendary Teng Ying.

"Ah—"

"You’re insane, watching this stuff..."

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Three sharp smacks landed.

Cao Cheng rubbed his shoulder, grimacing exaggeratedly.

It didn’t hurt.

But he had to react.

The assailant was Second Sister.

Today, Ren's mother and Old Cao had taken the little one to the hospital—something about checkups or vaccines. Cao Cheng hadn’t gone, opting to stay home and drink tea.

As the youngest grew older, the household had settled back into its old rhythms: some worked, others lounged, no fuss over who did what. Just different roles in the revolution, no hierarchy.

So,

Cao Cheng remained in the living room, sipping tea. No choice—it was raining outside, making the backyard unusable.

Second Sister’s return, accompanied by the rain, had an almost stealthy vibe.

Maybe Cao Cheng had been too absorbed, studying the techniques on screen, because Second Sister caught him red-handed from behind.

The video’s content was... glaring.

Two squirming blobs of flesh.

Visible from a mile away.

Pale and jiggly...

Second Sister delivered three swift "Buddha’s Palm" strikes.

Then she glared at Cao Cheng, equal parts disgust and flustered irritation. "Are you that desperate? How long has Tang Xin been gone?"

"..."

Cao Cheng was being misunderstood.

Desperate?

Hell no.

Tang Xin had visited just last month.

Plus, he had a young mixed-race girl on the side.

Had he not gently rejected Lingling, he’d have three by now.

Of course,

the reason he’d turned Lingling down was to avoid hurting her or disrupting the household peace.

But the mixed-race girl?

No emotional attachment—just a tool.

So there was no question of "acceptance," since she’d never enter the family.

That was the core difference between her and Lingling.

"No, I was just—"

"Save it. I get it, but if you’re gonna watch this, do it in your room. Not in the living room where anyone could walk in." Second Sister felt almost moved by her own magnanimity.

Cao Cheng raised an eyebrow. "You get it? So you watch this stuff too—"

"I don’t," Second Sister cut him off, cheeks flushed with anger. "Don’t you dare start imagining things."