Chapter 72 Where the Heart Finds Peace

Ma Siwei was terrified. Wasn’t this Yang fellow the one who fought with a mid-level gangster in Jiangzhou? How could he have such a powerful background? As far as she knew, there wasn’t a chief surnamed Yang with that kind of status.

Yang Changfeng rolled his eyes. “Get lost, will you. Alright, I’m heading back. I know about your business; just wait and watch others get slapped in the face.”

Sun Zhaoxing laughed. “Fine, I won’t meddle anymore. Give my regards to our old classmate when you get back. Tell her if she’s free tomorrow, let’s pay a visit together. Also, there’s a leader in Jiangzhou who said there’s an issue with her company. Let her know I’m in a good mood and the message has been delivered. As for everything else, she’ll have to handle it herself.”

Well, this guy was certainly straightforward!

Yang Changfeng replied, “Alright then. If anything comes up, give me a shout. Drinks and dinner are on me.” With that, he stepped on the accelerator and sped off.

Sun Zhaoxing’s expression quickly darkened again. Before entering, he said, “Even though this was a misunderstanding, my word stands. That’s the end of it for you. Use your head—don’t let yourself be played for a fool. If you don’t mind, I do, because it drags me into trouble.”

Ma Siwei and her agent lingered at the door for a long time. Only now did Ma Siwei truly realize she was a nobody—before these powerful figures whose influence reached everywhere, she didn’t even have the right to speak.

Her agent felt her eyes had been opened tonight; there were still such formidable people in Jiangzhou. If she didn’t try to get close to them now, then when?

But Ma Siwei wasn’t up to it. She had probably offended him by refusing his request. Besides, this woman must be out of her mind—after riding in his car and having him deal with the paparazzi, she hadn’t even invited him to dinner as thanks.

“You didn’t get his phone number?” Back home, her agent urged Ma Siwei to call and make an appointment—maybe that Yang fellow had some ideas about her. But to her surprise, Ma Siwei, lost in thought, didn’t even have his number.

The disparity today was overwhelming for Ma Siwei. First, she hadn’t expected that Yang had connections with Young Master Sun, and by the sound of it, a deep background. Second, the agent she’d always thought she could trust turned out to be so weak in the face of self-interest.

Lan Yiheng had already been abandoned by her. Now, her mind was set on forging ties with a true aristocratic family—the real elite.

But for whose sake?

Ma Siwei didn’t believe it was for her own good. In the end, it was all for the agent’s own benefit. If she’d really wanted what was best, wouldn’t she have known what Ma Siwei was thinking? The way she’d pushed her toward Lan Yiheng, without her even knowing, showed she’d been hiding things and manipulating her behind her back. And now, she wanted to throw her into Yang’s bed? Did she see her as nothing more than a tool?

Forget it—she didn’t want to dwell on such troubling thoughts anymore.

Wait, Lan said her idol would be in Jiangzhou for a competition. Maybe she should go tomorrow to clear her head, and tell Lan straight out that she had her own life and didn’t want to muddle along with a wayward actor.

The thought that her idol was actually in Jiangzhou made Ma Siwei feel guilty. She’d promised to support him, yet he was holding a competition right on her doorstep, and she hadn’t even known. What kind of fan was she?

“I’m annoyed—stop talking. If this goes on, I’ll ask the company to assign someone else to help me. You can go work for someone else.” Fed up with her agent’s endless chatter, Ma Siwei didn’t want to put up with her any longer. If today she could go so far as to secretly bring Lan without telling her, who knew what she might do tomorrow? It was better for her to leave sooner rather than later. Ma Siwei finally lost her temper.

Her agent was stunned, hardly able to believe it.

She wanted to get rid of her?

Of course—the real boss was Ma Siwei. She was just the agent, not the moneymaker.

The agent had indeed thought about quitting—just half an hour ago, she was ready to walk away since Ma Siwei had offended Young Master Sun. It seemed her career was over.

But now, things were different. She couldn’t leave, no matter what. Young Master Sun no longer cared, and Ma Siwei’s prospects were still bright. Even without connections to the elite, she was a money tree.

The agent fell silent, not daring to think otherwise.

Ma Siwei was now a star who could speak on equal terms with people like Young Master Sun. In their circle, there were perhaps no more than five actresses with such powerful backing. What did that mean? Money—mountains of it!

Ma Siwei was exhausted, yet she couldn’t sleep.

Who exactly was this Yang? What gave him the nerve to act so arrogantly, not even bothering to show a friendly face?

While Ma Siwei tossed and turned, Yang Changfeng slept soundly.

Because when he got home, he found someone waiting for him.

Chen Aijia was dozing on the living room sofa, her head nodding as she held her phone.

Anya lay nearby, also struggling to stay awake.

A home, two women waiting for his return under the soft light—this feeling was both unfamiliar and oddly familiar to Yang Changfeng.

He’d never had a woman wait for him before, especially in such a beautiful villa.

But he’d always had comrades waiting for him to return—whether in the army or abroad.

That feeling was truly intoxicating.

When they heard him come in, both women woke up at once. Anya hurried to pour some water, and Chen Aijia asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Wang Hu probably won’t be able to come to work tomorrow, but I suspect he’ll use his connections to keep fighting me,” Yang Changfeng said, tossing his car keys on the table and sinking into the sofa. He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. With Wang Hu, we’ll use an onion-peeling tactic for now. Just keep an eye on the company’s higher-ups—I’ll handle the rest. Don’t act impulsively. We’re fighting on two fronts, and Wang Hu will be too busy to keep up.”

Suddenly recalling Sun Zhaoxing’s words, Yang Changfeng added, “I ran into Sun Zhaoxing tonight. He said a high-ranking official doesn’t like our company and might try to trip us up. But Sun’s already given the heads-up, so there’s no need to worry about the higher-ups in Jiangzhou. Just focus on the company.”

Chen Aijia was puzzled. “Why would he help me?”

Help you? That guy was helping me—for the sake of tomorrow’s race. He won’t let anyone distract me.

Yang Changfeng thought so but didn’t say it aloud.

Chen Aijia understood, giving him a sidelong glance and muttering with disdain, “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

Anya handed him a glass of water, curious. “You’ve already planned for tomorrow? What do you think will happen?”

She wore a loose, old nightdress and was barefoot. Gone was the professional poise of the office—now, she was a gentle, charming woman at home, an alluring little enchantress.

Yang Changfeng smiled. “You’ll see tomorrow. I can’t say now—if I’m wrong and you find out, you’ll just laugh at me. Don’t worry, as a man, I have a pretty good sense of things.”

Chen Aijia pouted. This man was always pushing his luck—couldn’t he learn to hold back just a little?