Chapter 26

After hitching a ride back to the castle, Bai Manruo looked at her visibly shrunken balance with mixed emotions.

Before earning that three million, she had 222 yuan in her card; now, after paying the fare, she was left with 33.33. She was even poorer than when she first arrived. It felt like she was destined to never leave this castle in this lifetime.

Bai Manruo didn’t want to take another look at her balance; she was afraid that before her waist injury healed, she’d suffer a stroke from high blood pressure. At this moment, she began to regret turning down the production team’s invitation two days ago.

She lay on the living room sofa like a salted fish, staring blankly at the ceiling. One of the cars in the garage had been driven away; the boss was gone. The tension in her heart finally eased; she wouldn’t have known how to face the boss otherwise.

Thinking back to that brief five-minute massage last night—her heart beating irregularly, her mind a total blank, only able to feel those slender fingers wandering over her waist—and today, she had to do it again.

Those words looped in her mind. Bai Manruo, who had just been mourning her money, now had a head full of last night’s imagery. It felt as if the lingering warmth from that night still remained on her waist.

She gave her waist a little pinch, letting out a low hiss of pain. The images in her head finally dissipated. No, I can’t keep overthinking this.

Because of the injury, she didn’t have to work for a few days. Though she hadn’t done much work usually anyway, not having to hear Butler Li’s nagging made this back injury feel somewhat worth it.

Just as she was about to go back to her room to rest, a notification popped up on her phone—a friend request. Seeing that the avatar was Zhao Min, she didn’t even think before blocking her. The mere thought of her made her heart ache for her balance.

A few seconds later, another stranger’s friend request popped up. Bai Manruo furrowed her [read the original at bailiantales.com]brow and, after hesitating for a few seconds, clicked “Accept.” She was typing out 【Hello, who is this?】 but before she could hit send, a message came from the other side:

【You aren’t holding a grudge over that three million, are you?】

…Zhao Min.

Bai Manruo gave a cold laugh and blocked her immediately, giving her no chance for a second word.

But as soon as she blocked one, another appeared. The woman was more persistent than a piece of duct tape. I don’t believe this—let’s see who’s faster: her at adding me or me at blocking.

After ten minutes passed without a new notification, Bai Manruo smiled triumphantly. However, because she had been hunched over her phone for too long, a sharp pain shot through her back when she tried to straighten up.

It was all that “duct tape” Zhao Min’s fault; she’d almost forgotten the important stuff. Bai Manruo rubbed her waist and continued her online consultation with a doctor about her injury. After half an hour of questioning, she realized the boss hadn’t been joking: she really did need a full week of the medicinal liniment treatment.

She had originally thought about asking Xiaoyu to help her before the boss got back, but then she remembered the liniment was on the third floor—and all the doors there were locked.

It was hard not to suspect the boss was doing it on purpose, considering she never used to lock the doors before. As the thought crossed her mind, Bai Manruo lowered her eyes and propped her chin up with her fair hand. The boss wouldn’t be that bored… right?

Bai Manruo looked at the bracelet on her hand and recalled the online comments. She opened Weibo to find that netizens were still discussing it. However, most fans were now clamoring for selfies in the comments, wanting to see “fresh beauty.”

Since she’d been “tripped” by the thirst in the comments twice before, she was much more composed while scrolling this time. She noticed the top-voted comment: 【Like this if you’re a CP shipper from the show!】

CP? A CP with who?

Confused, she clicked on the fan’s profile. The first things she saw were “ambiguous” photos of her and Xu Huanxin. The Photoshop was so realistic that even she, as the person involved, hesitated for a few seconds.

After scrolling through the videos and photos on the profile, Bai Manruo realized that people had been shipping her and Xu Huanxin even before the show aired. Seeing the “paparazzi” shots of their “rendezvous,” she felt it was necessary to clarify things. It didn’t matter if an eighteenth-tier star like her was misunderstood, but she couldn’t let it affect Huanxin.

She noticed that Xu Huanxin’s comments were filled with inquiries about the romance and attacks from extremist fans. Yet, even so, Xu Huanxin hadn’t clarified the rumors, and she avoided the topic in interviews. The more she avoided it, the more people assumed it was real.

Bai Manruo assumed Huanxin simply found it inconvenient to post, given she was filming and currently had a movie in theaters. But as a small-time starlet, Bai Manruo had no such concerns. After thinking it over, she directly reposted the original rumor-mongering tweet and clarified the truth behind the “rendezvous.”

Then she posted another tweet, satisfying her fans with a new selfie.

After finishing all that, she suddenly remembered that the boss had also watched the show. She wondered if the boss had stumbled upon her dating rumors. Bai Manruo stared at her phone, debating with herself: The boss is so busy, she probably doesn’t have time for entertainment gossip.

As soon as her clarification went live, “shippers” wailed in the comments, but they were quickly drowned out by a wave of “face fans.” Seeing the excited fans calling for a livestream and wanting to see her “in action,” she felt inspired.

Livestreaming? She remembered watching game streams before and even dropping her pocket money to become the top donor once—after which she had to eat instant noodles for a week. The idea was interesting, but with her back injury, she couldn’t do it now. She’d look into it once she recovered.

Just as she exited Weibo, a message from Xu Huanxin popped up. She must have seen the news online. Before ​stolen content​Bai Manruo could type a reply, her phone rang.

Hearing Xu Huanxin’s self-blame on the other end, Bai Manruo joked, “Don’t worry, it doesn’t affect an eighteenth-tier star like me.” Then she said seriously, “I was just afraid the netizens’ misunderstanding would cause trouble for your private life.”

There was a sudden silence on the other end. Bai Manruo didn’t notice the shift in emotion and kept chatting until a staff member’s voice was heard in the background. Xu Huanxin then asked to take her out for dinner next time. Looking at the “Call Ended” screen, Bai Manruo didn’t even have time to politely decline.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go; it was just that her back was hurt and her wallet was empty. Even getting a ride was a struggle. She sighed, thinking she’d explain it once Huanxin was done with work.

At noon, Bai Manruo sat at the dining table, staring at Butler Li who was staring right back at her.

She took a expressionless sip of plain porridge. Even though the ingredients were expensive and rich, the taste was too bland. For a lover of heavy flavors like her, this was a form of “torture.” To make it worse, the boss had actually asked Butler Li to watch her eat.

Bai Manruo took a tiny sip of porridge, set down her spoon, and said, “Butler Li, aren’t you tired of sitting? I’ll be done in a bit, why don’t you go back and rest?”

Butler Li saw right through her little scheme and repeated, “The Young Mistress said I must watch you finish every last drop.”