Chapter 5: The Bodyguard

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Xing Chi and Mang Zhou did not attend the same school—one studied in the city, the other in the county town’s middle school—so their chances of meeting were exceedingly rare. Xing Chi never went to Mang Zhou’s home again, and Yitong never troubled her after that. She silently concluded her college entrance exams and left her hometown.

Mang Zhou was a part of her memories of that place, and because of his final words, Xing Chi had once hated him.

Mang Zhou had no right to call Juan Juan a bad woman; he had never even met her. Nor was he entitled to speak of Xing Chi in such terms. He had helped her before, applied medicine to her wounds. Xing Chi always remembered the little boy’s careful, hesitant manner as he smeared ointment on her back. She felt like a gently treated kitten in front of him.

Yet, Xing Chi’s hatred was genuine. Mang Zhou’s childishness shattered the friendship she once believed existed—no one cared about her, no one showed concern. She was the bad woman.

After leaving her hometown, she hardly thought of him. Her impression of Mang Zhou remained frozen in time, decades past. But in the resume photo, the handsome face once hidden beneath youthful innocence was fully revealed—Mang Zhou possessed the physique and gaze of a man.

Xiao Yan Chang firmly opposed the idea, but Xing Chi insisted, “No one else but him.”

“Aren’t you enemies?” Xiao Yan Chang advised repeatedly, sensing a dangerous intent stirring in Xing Chi toward this man. “Having someone who just annoys you by being near—does that make you happy?”

“I am happy!” Xing Chi replied happily.

That afternoon, Mang Zhou arrived at Fengchuan Media.

Xiao Yan Chang received him—more accurately, them.

Mang Zhou’s security company operated in teams, and he had brought two others along. Xiao Yan Chang looked again: “Twins?”

The brother was He Nian, the sister He Yue.

Mang Zhou nodded: “Yes, He Nian and He Yue.”

Xiao Yan Chang sent her assistant to inform Xing Chi of this latest update, secretly hoping for refusal: Xing Chi had agreed only to Mang Zhou; surely she wouldn’t accept two more people.

Two minutes later, the assistant poked his head in: “She said it’s fine, she wants all of them.”

Xiao Yan Chang sighed deeply, hand on forehead.

The three stood rigidly before her. The company had already conducted basic background checks when screening resumes, and based on trust in their partner company, she knew these three were reliable. Still, she felt uneasy—a strange premonition.

“You will be protecting our artist, Xing Chi,” Xiao Yan Chang handed the documents to Mang Zhou. “It’s a 24-hour close protection service, primarily to shield Xing Chi from overzealous fans and ensure her safety. Here are some work-related requirements; you must stay with her round the clock. Occasionally, you might need to act as a caretaker. She enjoys smoking and drinking, and this job has certain stipulations regarding those habits, so be mindful... What is it?”

Mang Zhou, flipping through the documents, raised his hand slightly.

“...Xing Chi?” He repeated the name as if pondering a mystery.

“Yes.”

After a moment of silence, Mang Zhou stood calmly and said, “Sorry, we are not babysitters. Also, due to personal feelings involved in protection, I cannot accept this job.”

Xiao Yan Chang was speechless.

He Nian and He Yue exchanged glances, each tugging at Mang Zhou’s sleeve.

Mang Zhou’s tone and pace remained unchanged: “I will communicate with the company and dispatch another security team to fulfill Miss Xing Chi’s protection duties.”

Xiao Yan Chang grasped his hand tightly, smiling broadly: “Very well!”

Meanwhile, in Lin Shuchuan’s office, Xing Chi had just finished her first cigarette.

Lin Shuchuan detested anyone smoking in his space, and Xing Chi deliberately did so to provoke him.

Her smoking habit had grown gradually since their breakup.

Lin Shuchuan was her first manager and her first boyfriend.

As Xing Chi’s dealings with Fengchuan Media deepened, so did her interactions with Lin Shuchuan. She trusted her manager; that trust gradually morphed into dependence and admiration over time.

Lin Shuchuan’s response was a harsh twenty-year contract.

Their romance lasted three years, ending with Xing Chi’s decision to break up.

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Lin Shuchuan stood by the window, avoiding the smoke, frowning as he studied Xing Chi. “The production team of ‘Brilliant and Sweet You’ is top-tier. What dissatisfaction do you have? Though your role is second female lead, it’s very prominent—you could elevate yourself further.”

Xing Chi was about to reply when Lin Shuchuan calmly added, “At your age, choices are limited.”

“Do you hate me?” Xing Chi asked.

Caught off guard, Lin Shuchuan paused, then smiled: “You hate me more, don’t you?”

“You said I didn’t love you, that I just went along with your feelings.”

Lin Shuchuan chuckled: “Did I say something wrong?”

After their separation, Xing Chi endured a long period of sadness and dejection until work busied her and she gradually recovered. She recalled how their relationship began—it was indeed “going with the flow.” She was alone, striving; besides friends, Lin Shuchuan was her closest person.

Drunk, she sought Lin Shuchuan; injured on set and ignored, she sought Lin Shuchuan; lost and wandering, her first thought was Lin Shuchuan.

He was her first instinct in all matters. He could handle everything, the best manager one could ask for.

Her boundless trust in him made her briefly question the fairness of the twenty-year contract, but Lin Shuchuan quickly persuaded her otherwise.

He knew she distrusted marriage utterly; his promise was “to love you forever”—longer than the contract, longer than life itself.

Now, Xing Chi laughed bitterly at such vows, but at twenty, she was hopeful. She doubted love and marriage for many years, and for the first time, someone seemed able to break the curse. She fell deep into the dream Lin Shuchuan wove, unable to escape.

Even after breaking up, they could not sever ties. For an artist like Xing Chi, terminating a contract was no easy feat—she lacked the funds and couldn’t find a suitable company.

Lin Shuchuan once threatened that if Xing Chi left, he could make her vanish from the industry.

It was both a threat and the truth.

Later, Lin Shuchuan assigned the more idle manager Xiao Yan Chang to her. Xiao Yan Chang managed no big stars, but everyone was steady and reliable. Xing Chi enjoyed working with her and once believed she had escaped Lin Shuchuan’s influence.

Yet, the longer she worked in this field, the clearer it became that Lin Shuchuan still controlled her, subtle and unseen.

“You don’t hate me because I went with the flow,” Xing Chi said. “You hate me because I broke up with you.”

Lin Shuchuan finally looked up: “Are you settling old scores?”

Xing Chi pressed on, “I disrupted your rhythm, escaped your control. That’s why you’re so angry.”

Lin Shuchuan’s face darkened further. Usually, Xing Chi would have been afraid, but today she felt armored, resolute.

“Rather than revenge, let’s part amicably.” Xing Chi smiled. “Oh, we already have. Now we’re partners. Since we cooperate, why not...”

Before finishing, Lin Shuchuan suddenly crossed the room, grabbed her arm, pulling her from the sofa. He raised his hand as if to strike.

Xing Chi stared him down: “Going to hit me again?”

After a tense moment, Lin Shuchuan withdrew his hand. Xing Chi added, “You could hit me if you wanted.”

Lin Shuchuan sneered: “Now you know how to fight back and talk back?”

Xing Chi laughed: “Not learned it, always have.”

Lin Shuchuan didn’t believe her.

During their relationship, his temper and bad habits had surfaced. When angry, he didn’t reason or calm down; he used his fists to assert power—a communication method learned from his father.

He remembered the first time he raised a fist to Xing Chi, and the look in her eyes—fear, scorn, and a sudden coldness.

Those eyes, once always smiling, gentle and sweet, stunned him. In anger, he couldn’t distinguish sadness from rage, only knowing violence subdued her.

Xing Chi quietly moved out, broke up, as if all their past passion never existed.

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“If you were going to hit me, you should have done it then,” Lin Shuchuan said, watching her back. “Still pretending to be strong now—what’s the point? You have no right to bargain with me.”

“I still loved you then, so I held back.” Xing Chi turned. “See? We’re fundamentally different, never meant to be. Honestly, I hit hard—I regret sparing you.”

Lin Shuchuan sneered: “I only regret not hitting you harder. You didn’t learn your lesson; now you dare talk back.”

Xing Chi opened the heavy office door, eyes sparkling with a smile: “Then try again now.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted someone outside. Turning, it was Mang Zhou.

His gaze swept over her, lingering on her face and the cast on her hand.

Xing Chi, unsure how much he had heard, closed the door. The hallway was empty on both sides. Mang Zhou was just leaving Xiao Yan Chang’s office, heading to the elevator. Two companions trailed behind him, looking at her curiously over his shoulder.

By professional habit, Xing Chi smiled at the two and flicked a finger, pulling another thin cigarette from the pack, realizing she’d left her lighter in Lin Shuchuan’s office.

“Got a light?” she asked Mang Zhou.

He didn’t answer, instead asking, “You know me?”

“You don’t recognize me?”

Mang Zhou looked at her with a slight sting in his eyes, making her uneasy all over. She began to doubt her decision. Over more than a decade, the boy she knew had transformed completely; only his rigid, cold demeanor remained unchanged.

Letting such a man stay close under the guise of protection, Xing Chi wasn’t sure it was the right choice. What she was sure of was that she didn’t care whether Mang Zhou was a qualified bodyguard.

With no men around and no excitement, she was eager to tease this old acquaintance, to make him truly taste the bitterness of a “bad woman,” to make him bitterly regret his careless words in youth.

Before she could think it through, Mang Zhou reached out and took the cigarette from her lips with a natural motion.

Xing Chi was speechless.

He tossed the cigarette into the trash bin and turned to say, “The contract requires you to quit smoking one month before joining the ‘Brilliant and Sweet You’ crew.”

“Are you a bodyguard or a nanny?”

“Both.”

Xing Chi took another cigarette from the pack and headed toward the stairs. She disliked being controlled, especially by someone she looked down upon. Waiting for the elevator, she finally borrowed a light, lit her cigarette, and defiantly glanced back down the hallway. Mang Zhou and his two companions were still standing there.

Portraits of Fengchuan’s artists adorned the walls: beautiful, handsome, diverse. On the opposite side, floor-to-ceiling glass windows caught the fiery sunset, illuminating half of Mang Zhou’s face and figure like a towering, solemn sculpture. He rivaled any meticulously made-up and retouched photo on the walls, standing there, striking directly at the eyes and heart.

What could possibly anger Mang Zhou? Xing Chi thought. That would be a tremendous challenge for her.

It was a pity never to see the youthful shyness and innocence on his face again.

Before stepping into the elevator, she stubbed out her cigarette and threw the pack into the trash.

The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off Mang Zhou’s gaze.

Xiao Yan Chang was on the phone in the conference room, feigning frustration: “Hi, I have to find a new bodyguard for Xing Chi again. This lady really doesn’t make things easy...”

The door half-opened; Mang Zhou knocked and entered. She only spoke after hanging up, brief and to the point: “Hello, I accept the job.”

Xiao Yan Chang was speechless.

Mang Zhou bowed slightly: “Pleasure to work together.”