Ji Yanting's face was frosty.
The incident where a sasaeng fan harassed his great-grandmother had been suppressed by him and never made the news.
At first, he refused to believe Zhou Yachen could do such a thing.
But the evidence was undeniable.
"Brother, brother, let explain—" Zhou Yachen's voice trembled with panic. "I only saw that secretly taken photo in the fan group, and I even told them not to act recklessly. Brother, you have to believe —"
"Enough!" Ji Yanting cut him off. "If you can't focus on honing your acting skills, then go abroad and study for a few years to mature."
"Brother, I don’t want to leave! Brother, please—!"
The call ended abruptly.
Ji Yanting pinched the bridge of his nose.
His mind drifted back years ago, when Zhou Yachen was just ten, always trailing behind him, calling him "brother."
Whenever he was in a bad mood, Zhou Yachen would cheer him up.
When he faced ostracism on set, Zhou Yachen would travel far just to keep him company.
How had that innocent boy turned into this?
Was it the corruption of the entertainnt industry?
Had he made a mistake bringing Zhou Yachen into this world?
"Yanting, don’t bla yourself."
A gentle voice spoke beside him.
The woman wore a white blouse and jeans, her hair tied in a low ponytail, exuding a quiet, intellectual grace.
She was Qiu Sang, Ji Yanting’s agent.
She handed him a glass of warm water. "I warned you long ago not to feed Zhou Yachen’s ambitions. You always said he was still young. But he’s twenty now—old enough to face the consequences of his actions. Sending him abroad might be for the best. A few years of hardship could teach him responsibility."
As soon as she finished speaking, her phone buzzed. Zhou Yachen’s na flashed on the screen.
Over the years, Zhou Yachen had clung to Ji Yanting like a parasite. Every endorsent and project she secured, Ji Yanting would hand over to him. She had long grown disgusted with his entitlent.
Qiu Sang declined the call.
Then blocked him entirely.
"Let’s change the subject," she said. "You have a brand event in an hour. Go shower—I’ll pick your outfit."
Ji Yanting headed to the bathroom.
Qiu Sang stepped into the walk-in closet. With practiced ease, she selected a striking ensemble, a wristwatch, sunglasses, and finally, a pair of briefs.
Just as she turned to leave, her gaze caught on a small red velvet box resting on the glass shelf.
Her lips pressed into a tight line.
"Have you made your decision?"
Ji Yanting erged from the shower, a towel slung low around his waist, water droplets gliding down his sculpted chest.
Qiu Sang’s cheeks flushed.
He picked up the box and flipped it open. A dazzling diamond ring glittered under the light.
Without hesitation, he seized her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. "Qiu Sang, you said you needed a week to think. But I’ve waited three months."
"You know my answer," Qiu Sang said, removing the ring. "I’m your agent—nothing more. I need this job. Please, don’t push ."
"Why?" Ji Yanting’s stare burned into her. "Why reject ?"
Her lips paled from how hard she bit them. "I’m five years older than you. It’s not appropriate. Stop asking!"
She shoved past him, retreating to the living room.
Ji Yanting unwrapped the towel.
Dressed thodically, his turbulent emotions steadied with each layer. By the ti he pocketed the ring and stepped out, his composure was flawless.
Qiu Sang exhaled in relief. "Let’s go. The event won’t wait."
The car ride passed in silence.
At the venue, the mont Ji Yanting stepped out, fans erupted in cheers. Caras sward, flashes exploding like fireworks as bodyguards and assistants ford a protective barrier.
Onstage, Ji Yanting fielded interviews with the effortless charm of a veteran—though his mind wandered back to Qiu Sang.
Suddenly, a staff mber rushed over, whispering urgently, "Mr. Ji, Zhou Yachen and Qiu Sang are arguing backstage. You need to intervene."
Ji Yanting excused himself and strode toward the commotion.
A crowd had gathered.
"Yachen, calm down," Qiu Sang’s voice was steel wrapped in silk. "I’ll arrange the best acting school for you. This is for your own good. There’s no need for this scene."
Zhou Yachen’s expression darkened.
Every ti his brother gave him opportunities, this woman interfered.
She must have poisoned Ji Yanting’s mind—why else would he insist on exiling him abroad?
He didn’t speak a word of English. Going abroad would be a death sentence.
"‘For my own good’? You’re forcing out of the industry!" Zhou Yachen spat. "This is all your fault! Without your ddling, my brother would never treat like this!"
Noticing reporters edging closer, Qiu Sang lowered her voice. "We’ll discuss this privately."
To Zhou Yachen, her restraint was guilt. He raised his voice. "Last year, you sabotaged my lead role offer! Then that pri variety show—"
Qiu Sang trembled with fury. "Zhou Yachen, have you no sha? That lead role was Ji Yanting’s. Had he given it to you, he’d have offended the most revered director in the industry. Should he ruin his career for you? As for the variety show—it was never yours to begin with!"
Zhou Yachen’s face twisted. "Ji Yanting is my brother! His resources are mine! What right does an outsider like you have to interfere?"
"Zhou Yachen!"
Ji Yanting’s voice cut through like a blade.
He pushed through the crowd. "Apologize to Qiu Sang. Now."
"Why should I?" Zhou Yachen jutted his chin. "I won’t!"
The last straw snapped. Ji Yanting spoke softly, lethally. "Fine. If you refuse to go abroad, then stay. From now on, do as you please. We’re done."
For the first ti, real terror flashed in Zhou Yachen’s eyes.
Reporters closed in, caras clicking frenetically—a public feud between a top actor and his protege was explosive material.
Qiu Sang’s face drained of color. "Yanting, stop them! These photos can’t leak—"
Ji Yanting’s sharp gaze swept the room. Two icy words: "Delete them."
The reporters, seasoned professionals, dared not defy him. Reluctantly, they erased the goldmine of footage.
But the shrewdest among them already pivoted—if they couldn’t publish the star’s clash with Zhou Yachen, perhaps the agent’s showdown would still trend...
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