"I don't want to talk about that," he murmured, his voice husky. "Kiss me, Jiejie."
I cinched the belt of my silk robe and leaned down, planting a brief, dismissive kiss on his cheek. "That's enough out of you. You have a shoot today, so don't start any trouble."
He sighed, a note of petulance in his tone. "...You're always so cold the moment we're out of bed."
I let out a sharp laugh. "Please, DiDi. That new general role you're so proud of? Who do you think pulled the strings to get you that audition?"
"You know that's not what I'm talking about," he insisted.
"Then what are you talking about?" I crooked a finger, and he obediently shuffled closer, letting me cup his jaw. My thumb traced the line of his lips before sliding down to the sharp angle of his throat, resting lightly against his pulse. "Baby, don't push your luck. I made the terms clear: just physical, no emotions."
His eyes darkened, a flicker of something hot in their depths. "Then let's have some more fun, Jiejie."
The sugar baby arrangement with Han Luming was never part of the plan. It started by accident when I was leading my team in a tense negotiation with an ad agency. He happened to be on-site for a photo shoot, and after I'd hammered out the main contract points and left the fine print to my subordinates, I stepped out for some air. With nothing better to do, I watched him work. He had a star's presence, I noted idly; with the right push, he could be huge. When he finished, he made a point of approaching me. His manager, a woman with a practiced smile, handed me a business card, leaving me utterly baffled until I realized she'd mistaken me for one of the agency executives.
While his manager was distracted by a phone call, Han Luming himself stammered, "So... what do you think of me?"
"You're handsome," I said, my tone flat. Why is he calling me 'Jiejie'? We're not close. "But so what?"
He hesitated, then mouthed the words, so clearly I couldn't mistake them: "Sugar mommy?" The sheer audacity of it, the lazy ambition, instantly extinguished any appeal his face had held. "Not interested," I said, turning my back on him without another word.
It should have ended there, a forgettable encounter. But fate, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor. That evening, I took my team out to celebrate the successfully negotiated contract, and there he was again, standing alone outside the restaurant, head bent over his phone as he tried to hail a ride. When he saw me, his eyes lit up. "Jiejie! Are you leaving? Can I catch a ride with you?" The shamelessness was breathtaking. I frowned, but before I could shut him down, my planning director, Fang Yu, slung an arm around my shoulder. "Well, well," she said with a sly grin. "Look at our boss, already on a first-name basis with the talent." Han Luming just blinked, playing innocent as Fang Yu shot me a look that screamed, Let me handle this! And just like that, he was in her car, my opinion of him sinking even lower. Young people today, always looking for the easy way out. When I was his age, I was clawing my way up, chasing investors, not trying to trade on my looks.
Somehow, he managed to charm his way into our celebration dinner. Somehow, the drinks flowed a little too freely. And somehow, I woke up the next morning with him in my bed. Perhaps my drunken brain, stripped of its usual logic, had simply surrendered to instinct and a pretty face. Though a large part of me suspected this was a calculated move, a deliberate seduction. The little sneak. My head was splitting. "Get out," I grumbled.
He actually had the nerve to look wounded. "Are you really going to just use me and throw me away, Jiejie?"
Use you? Kid, let's be real about who used whom. I pressed my fingers to my throbbing temples. "What do you want?"
He shifted closer, his hands beginning to expertly massage my scalp. "Be my sugar mommy," he said, a smug satisfaction in his voice. "I'm clean, no diseases. And I'm good at what I do. You can't say you weren't satisfied last night, can you?"
A vein pulsed in my temple. "Name your price. A script, a role, a spot on a reality show. I'll give it to you as a one-time payment for services rendered. After that, you and I are done."
He fell silent, though his hands kept up their miraculous work on my hangover. After a long moment, he leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Since you're offering... I have just one request. I just got a small part, fourth male lead, and we start shooting in two days. Will you come visit me on set?"
I turned my head, narrowing my eyes. "You're sure? That's all you want? One visit, and you'll never bother me again?"
Han Luming just flashed me a wide, dazzling grin. It was, I had to admit, a very effective smile. I cleared my throat. "Don't you dare go back on your word, DiDi. You're playing a game you can't win."
When Fang Yu found out I'd slept with Han Luming, she threw a fit, calling me a cradle robber. I just rolled my eyes. "Please, you're hardly one to talk. Take a good look in the mirror and tell me which one of us is the 'tender green shoot' here." I glanced at my schedule. "You're running the afternoon meeting. It's our first with the new partners, so don't screw it up."
"If it's so important, why aren't you running it?"
I just gave her a cryptic smile.
* * *
"Someone," I said with a pointed look, "was all but begging me to visit his film set. I gave my word, and I don't go back on my promises." Fang Yu shot me a furious glare before storming out, the door slamming shut behind her. I just clicked my tongue. So dramatic.
When I arrived, they were in the middle of a take. The producer, a woman I'd worked with on a previous campaign, spotted me and gave a friendly wave. I returned the gesture and found an unobtrusive corner to watch Han Luming work. His character was a young beggar, huddled in a corner as the story's hero and heroine galloped through a chaotic marketplace. He was collateral damage in the ensuing mayhem, and I winced as various props were hurled in his direction. A heavy-looking cauldron slammed into his back, and I frowned. That was going to leave a nasty bruise.
When the director yelled "Cut!", his manager rushed over, helping him up and handing him a thermos. He took a few sips, his back held rigidly straight, and his eyes began scanning the crew. The moment they landed on me, they lit up. He set the thermos down and jogged over, a wide, surprised grin on his face. "Jiejie, you actually came?"
"I keep my promises." I studied his face, noting the slight flush on his cheeks. "Does it hurt?" He flinched, almost imperceptibly, before shaking his head. "It's nothing."
"Bullshit," I said with a sigh. "When you get back to your hotel tonight, have someone put some soothing ointment on that."
"I started out as an extra, Jiejie. A little knock like this is nothing," he said, though he seemed pleased. "But I'm happy you're worried about me."
"Don't forget the other promise you made, DiDi," I reminded him coolly. "The one about not bothering me again."
"I know..." he mumbled, just as the director called for the next take. He shot me one last look. "It's okay if you don't want to be responsible for me," he said in a rush. "I'll just... like you quietly. From a distance." And with that, he was gone, jogging back into position. I narrowed my eyes. Like me? What happened to wanting a sugar mommy?
His manager, a woman named Zhu Qian, came over, her expression apologetic. "Ms. Song, I'm so sorry if Luming has been a bother. He didn't even tell me he'd invited you."
"It's fine," I said smoothly. "He's a hard worker. I just thought I'd come see a future star in action." I met her gaze. "Xiao Zhu, that scene looked rough. Make sure he gets that back looked after tonight. An injury that doesn't heal properly now can cause a world of trouble later on."
"Thank you for your concern, Ms. Song." She gave a little bow. "I actually have to step out for a moment, but my assistant should be here any minute. Would you mind terribly keeping an eye on him until she arrives?" I met her gaze with a flat, unreadable expression until her own smile faltered. Then I gave a slow nod. So that's her game. Using me as a stepping stone for her client. Smart. She's got a decent head on her shoulders, but she probably didn't take what I just said to heart. The "any minute" assistant, of course, never materialized. Han Luming used his breaks to hover near me, a dozen unspoken questions in his eyes.
"If you have something to say, say it," I finally prompted. "Your manager left you in my care, after all."
He hesitated. "Tonight... after we wrap. Would you have dinner with me?"
I was about to refuse, but then I saw the crew's dinner being served—limp vegetables and greasy meat in sad-looking boxes. I wrinkled my nose, grabbed him by the arm, and steered him toward the exit. "Are you expected to eat that pig slop?"
"Worried about me, Jiejie?" he teased, leaning over from the passenger seat of my car. "The big names get private catering. The rest of us nobodies get stuck with this garbage."
"Sit back and put on your seatbelt," I said, my voice flat. "Don't get me a ticket."
Running into the producer at the Japanese restaurant was an awkward coincidence. Her eyes flicked from me to Han Luming and back, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Your latest acquisition, Ms. Song?" she asked, her tone making it sound like I did this every week.
I glanced at Han Luming, who was standing a few feet away, pretending not to listen. "He's my boyfriend," I said, the lie coming easily. "Sponsorship" was a messy word, one that invited far too much gossip. Han Luming, however, simply shot me a wink, his smile infuriatingly ambiguous. I'd joked with friends about getting a sugar baby, but now that one had literally fallen into my lap, the reality felt... complicated.
My initial rejection of him had been purely based on his apparent lack of ambition. But seeing him on set today, taking hits from a prop cauldron without complaint, I had to admit he was dedicated. So, after dropping him at his hotel, I made a decision. "About your proposal," I said, turning to him. "I've changed my mind. But let's be crystal clear: this is purely physical. No emotions. And I want a full health screening report on my desk by Friday."
He beamed. "I thought I'd have to work a little harder to win you over."
"Don't flatter yourself. I can see your little schemes from a mile away," I said coolly. "I just don't have the time or energy to play games with you. Besides, you're not bad at what you do." Honestly, that first night had been incredible. But the boy was a born troublemaker. As the car idled by the curb, he refused to get out, insisting I had to be the one to apply his ointment. I looked at his wide, hopeful eyes and, against my better judgment, followed him into the hotel. I was still in a daze when he pulled me through the door of his room and pressed me back against it, his mouth descending on mine.