The voice was somewhat sharp, carrying an unpleasant and frivolous tone.
Fang Ming's eyes flickered slightly, as he recognized the voice.
Zhao Ruilong.
The second son of the Zhao Family in Rong City. His family started in media, and they own Xingxing Entertainment, which is currently riding the wave of trends, doing exceptionally well with live-streaming and short videos.
He was also a typical playboy, a friend of Qin Xiao's, but of a much lower caliber—the kind who's all talk and no game but loves to play anyway.
"Knock, knock, knock."
Fang Ming raised his hand and knocked on the heavy redwood door.
"Come in," Qin Xiao's voice came out, betraying no emotion.
Fang Ming pushed the door open and entered. The large office was hazy with smoke.
Qin Xiao sat in the executive chair, still fiddling with his string of agarwood beads, his expression dark. He was clearly still troubled by Mu Qingxue's stunning comeback and the inability to find the mastermind behind it.
On the sofa opposite him, a young man in a floral shirt with dyed silver-gray hair lounged half-reclined.
Zhao Ruilong sat with his legs crossed, wearing a pair of limited-edition AJs, his feet brazenly propped up on Qin Xiao's coffee table worth several hundred thousand.
Seeing Fang Ming enter, Zhao Ruilong only gave him a sidelong glance, making no move to lower his feet. Instead, he shook them even more vigorously.
"Young Master Qin, regarding public opinion monitoring..."
Fang Ming kept his eyes forward, walked directly to the desk, and handed over a report on the online reputation of Yunlan International, preparing to begin his work report.
"Hey, hey, hey, hold on!"
Zhao Ruilong suddenly interrupted Fang Ming. He blew out a smoke ring, looking at Fang Ming with a mocking expression:
"Isn't this Steward Fang? I heard the company's been having a bit of a hard time lately because of Yunlan International?"
Fang Ming paused, turned around, and put on a professional smile: "You jest, Young Master Zhao. In business competition, it's normal to have back-and-forth exchanges."
"Tsk, what business competition? So pretentious."
Zhao Ruilong shook his head, wearing an expression of exasperation as he said to Qin Xiao:
"Young Master Qin, I've always said you're sometimes too proper. Dealing with a hypocritically aloof woman like Mu Qingxue—what's the point of raw material blockades or price wars? They're too slow. If it were me, I'd have long since unleashed my top influencers and key opinion leaders to tear her Yunlan International apart. Or better yet..."
He made a lewd gesture and chuckled:
"Just find an opportunity to slip her something, film a few clips, and see if she can still play the chaste martyr?"
Qin Xiao frowned, seemingly somewhat disgusted by Zhao Ruilong's low-class suggestion, but he didn't lash out, merely saying calmly:
"This is a company. Mind your manners."
"Fine, fine, a company, a proper place."
Zhao Ruilong shrugged, then stood up and walked over to Fang Ming, looking him up and down.
That look was as if he were appraising a commodity up for sale, or... a dog of a decent breed.
"Fang Ming, I have a party tonight at Jinding Entertainment City. If you're free, come help me drink some toasts. I've recently signed a few female streamers who don't know the ropes yet. They need someone refined like you to teach them some manners."
"You can also learn a thing or two about how to handle women."
The words sounded like an invitation, but were actually an insult.
As Qin Corporation's special assistant, going to drink toasts for Zhao Ruilong's bunch of influencers? Even help him pimp?
This was treating him like a pimp.
Fang Ming adjusted his glasses, his tone still respectful: "Apologies, Young Master Zhao. I have some personal matters tonight and probably can't make it."
"Personal matters?"
Zhao Ruilong snorted as if hearing a joke: "What personal matters could you have? Just going home to play games and jerk off?"
"Enough, Ruilong."
Qin Xiao, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up: "Fang Ming is my man. How I use him is not for you to dictate."
Qin Xiao's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an imposing pressure.
Zhao Ruilong's expression shifted. Though unhappy, he still relied on the Qin Family's resources in the business world and didn't dare to cross Qin Xiao.
"Tsk, so protective."
Zhao Ruilong curled his lip and sat back down on the sofa: "Fine, don't come. As if anyone cares."
Qin Xiao looked at Fang Ming and waved his hand: "Since you have personal matters, you don't need to attend the evening engagement. Leave the report and go."
"Yes."
Fang Ming placed the file down, gave a slight bow, and turned to walk towards the door.
Just as he pulled the door open, one foot already out, about to close it completely—
In the office, Zhao Ruilong's deliberately lowered, yet just audible, taunt reached his ears.
"Old Qin, you're spoiling him too much. He's just a dog that looks pleasing to the eye, what's the big deal? If he were with me, I'd have stewed him in hot pot long ago."
*Click.*
Fang Ming didn't pause, completely closing the door.
Inside the office, Qin Xiao's voice drifted leisurely into his ears.
"Even dogs have dignity. Push them too far and they'll bite. And... as long as he's loyal enough, what does it matter if he's a dog?"
"...A dog?" Fang Ming murmured to himself as he left the office.
Not even sure if I'd left, and they're already talking so brazenly?
Did they not care about my feelings, or did they think I posed no threat? Or perhaps both?
Whichever it was, Fang Ming didn't care anymore.
As a transmigrator, he had no inherent loyalty to Qin Xiao to begin with. Now, turning traitor carried even less psychological burden.
After finishing his work, Fang Ming got off duty and, along with Wang Meng and another underling, had a simple meal together.
At eight in the evening, under the night sky, Rong City was bathed in neon lights, a place of flowing desires.
Jinding Entertainment City was the territory of the Zhao Family's second son, Zhao Ruilong. At this moment, the entrance was packed with all kinds of supercars, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the stench of rotting money.
Third floor, luxury private room 308.
"Come on, drink! Anyone who doesn't drink is a grandson!"
Wang Meng had long since let loose. With one arm around a scantily clad hostess and the other holding a microphone, he was howling like a wolf singing "Borrow Five Hundred More Years from Heaven."
His voice was like thunder, giving everyone a headache.
Fang Ming sat on the corner leather sofa, having undone two shirt buttons, swirling half a glass of whiskey in his hand, looking relaxed.
Beside him, apart from two hostesses, sat a young man who looked somewhat uneasy.
This person was Chen Liang, Fang Ming's high school classmate and fellow townsman from the same hometown.
Chen Liang was thin and small. Back in school, he was honest and timid, often bullied by schoolyard thugs. Fang Ming had stood up for him a few times, and he became Fang Ming's underling.
Two months ago, unable to make a living in his hometown, Chen Liang came to Rong City to seek refuge with Fang Ming.
Fang Ming, thinking him reliable, mentioned it to Qin Xiao and kept him around to run errands and gather bits of information.
Compared to a brute like Wang Meng who only knew how to use his fists, an inconspicuous small fry like Chen Liang sometimes found it easier to infiltrate certain special circles.
"M-Ming... Ming-ge."
Chen Liang nervously glanced at the sea of pale thighs around him, his Adam's apple bobbing: "This place... is really extravagant. That bottle of liquor must cost several thousand, right?"
Though he'd been in Rong City for two months, this was his first time in such a place.
Fang Ming glanced at him, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and tossed one over: "This is nothing. Stick with me, and I'll have you drinking this stuff like water in the future."
Chen Liang caught the cigarette, fumbling to light it for Fang Ming, his face full of admiration: "Of course, Ming-ge. You're the favorite by Young Master Qin's side now. Everyone back in our village knows you're a big shot."
Fang Ming took a drag, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke, his eyes appearing deep under the dim, swirling lights.
A big shot?
That was just for outsiders to see. In the eyes of genuine second-generation heirs like Qin Xiao and Zhao Ruilong, he was just a slightly higher-class dog.
"Enough with the flattery."
Fang Ming tapped his cigarette ash, lowering his voice: "I asked you to go out and look around earlier. What did you see?"
Hearing Fang Ming get down to business, Chen Liang immediately straightened up and leaned in close to Fang Ming's ear:
"I saw that Zhao Ruilong. The door to his private room was open. When I passed by, I peeked inside. Wow... there were at least twenty women in there, all with those influencer faces, dressed in next to nothing."
"I even saw a few slightly well-known small-time streamers on their knees offering drinks to people."