Chapter 24: The Superstar Mu Qingyan

Chapter 024: The Superstar Mu Qingyan

After spitting, Li Changying returned, resembling a triumphant soldier, completely unfazed by the strange looks from colleagues around him. He looked at Chu Fei and asked, “When will you have an answer? We don’t have time to waste waiting for you.”

He scanned the room, positioning himself as a representative of the group, clearly wary that Chu Fei might intentionally drag things out.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make a call soon. The result should come quickly,” Chu Fei replied crisply, disgusted by Li Changying’s behavior.

“Fine, three days. If you don’t…” Li Changying began, though he regretted spitting so soon; he should have waited until Chu Fei was about to drink.

“No need for three days. By this afternoon at the latest, there’ll be an answer,” Chu Fei interrupted.

“This afternoon?” Li Changying was momentarily stunned, Chu Fei’s confident tone unsettling his own certainty.

But the feeling passed quickly, and Li Changying resumed his usual demeanor, sneering, “Alright, I’ll see how you manage to sign that little model back.” He turned and strode back to his own cubicle, refusing to participate in any further discussions—his relationship with Chu Fei was now completely fractured.

The onlookers dispersed, leaving only a few from Group Six behind. They stared at Chu Fei with odd expressions, but none spoke.

“Chu Fei, how could you do this?” murmured Murong Wei, her delicate face filled with anxiety.

“What have I done?” Chu Fei feigned ignorance.

“If you dare to drink that, I’ll never speak to you again!” Murong Wei said angrily, on the verge of tears. Though she’d spoken firmly before, she never truly believed Chu Fei could succeed.

The bet itself wasn’t infuriating, but the wager was disgusting. Just picturing Chu Fei gulping from that little bucket made Murong Wei queasy.

“Silly, do you really think I’m foolish?” Chu Fei tapped her forehead lightly, touched by her genuine concern.

“Really? You actually have a plan?” Murong Wei wasn’t naive; she sensed his calm confidence but struggled to believe it.

“When have you ever seen me act without certainty?” Chu Fei smiled.

“But…”

“I’m going to make a call now—just wait and watch the show…” Chu Fei laughed, stood up, and exited the cubicle under everyone’s gaze. He certainly couldn’t make the call in front of so many; any stray rumor could cause trouble.

“Could he really be confident?” Murong Wei stared after Chu Fei’s departing figure, and her nerves unexpectedly settled.

—

Meanwhile, Chu Fei.

He walked to the stairwell, lit a cigarette, ensured he was alone, and then took out his phone. He scrolled to a contact marked with a string of symbols only he understood, and dialed.

The phone rang for a long time before a gentle woman’s voice answered, “Hello, this is Xu Mei.”

“Aunt Mei, it’s Chu Fei,” he introduced himself.

There was a distinct pause on the line—almost ten seconds passed before she spoke again. “So, you finally remember to call? How long has it been? Who do you think you are? I’ll tell you, Qingyan doesn’t have time to take your call today.” Her tone was full of irritation, scolding him thoroughly.

Chu Fei waited for her to finish before laughing, “Aunt Mei, I’m calling you specifically this time.”

“Me?” she was surprised.

“Yes, I need a favor…” Chu Fei briefly explained the situation. “That little model reportedly signed with Qingyan’s studio a few days ago. Please, could you help?”

“So you want me to fire her?” she asked, uncertain.

“No, just let her fulfill her previous contract. After all, a model breaking a contract isn’t good for Qingyan Studio’s reputation,” Chu Fei smiled.

“Is that a threat?” Aunt Mei’s voice cooled.

“I’m asking for your help,” Chu Fei said with a forced smile.

“Hmph.” She snorted, then said, “Normal studio business is handled by Old Wu. I shouldn’t interfere.”

“I trust your abilities…”

“Don’t flatter me. This matter…”

“And please, don’t tell Qingyan I called you…” Chu Fei quickly hung up, afraid she’d scold him further.

He was right to worry. At the same moment, in a luxurious villa at a top resort in South Korea, a fashionable, beautiful woman glared at her phone and cursed between clenched teeth, “That bastard, damn him!”

Anyone from the entertainment industry would recognize her immediately.

This woman was none other than Xu Mei, chief agent of superstar Mu Qingyan. Thanks to Mu Qingyan’s status, Xu Mei’s position in the entertainment world was equally exceptional.

After venting, Xu Mei didn’t call back. She hesitated, then walked to a bedroom nearby.

She pushed open the door.

Inside, on a lavish Simmons bed, a girl in pajamas, wearing headphones, was humming softly—her voice sweet, with a soul-stirring charm.

“Aunt Mei?”

Hearing the door, the girl jumped out of bed, happily hugged Xu Mei, and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Naughty girl, don’t mess around.”

Xu Mei gently pushed her away, her gaze full of affectionate indulgence. Outsiders knew her as Mu Qingyan’s agent, but few knew she was also Mu Qingyan’s godmother and wet nurse. Mu Qingyan’s mother died in childbirth, and Xu Mei raised her from infancy, even nursing her. Though not biological mother and daughter, their bond surpassed that of blood, more intimate than Xu Mei’s relationship with her own child.

The girl in pajamas, with a casual ponytail, styled like the girl next door, was none other than the superstar Mu Qingyan.

Even dressed so simply, her flawless beauty could not be concealed. Her loveliness was beyond description, surpassing any notion of perfection.

She embodied a fusion of innocence, sensuality, allure, and a hint of icy coolness—all contrasting qualities perfectly blended into her unique aura.

Though she appeared to be eighteen or nineteen, pure and youthful, she was actually twenty-five, which lent her a touch of mature femininity and allure.

Her exquisite face was only part of her appeal; Mu Qingyan’s figure was stunning—most notably her long, perfectly proportioned legs, capable of captivating any man instantly.

Ximen Lu’s legs were considered top-tier, but compared to Mu Qingyan’s, they paled. Mu Qingyan’s legs, like her beauty, were the epitome of temptation.

Within the entertainment world, Mu Qingyan held two titles: “Asia’s Diva” and “Queen of Beautiful Legs.” Either title marked her as peerless, and thus she became a unique icon in the Chinese entertainment industry.

She rarely accepted film roles—just three small, artistic films since her debut, each selling for astronomical prices far surpassing international blockbusters, a true miracle.

She seldom participated in public runway shows. Only in her first year did she appear at the world’s top Victoria’s Secret show, instantly crowned “Queen of Beautiful Legs.” Since then, she never attended another public runway, yet her title remained unchallenged.

Because of her extraordinary achievements, Mu Qingyan became an industry outlier. Three years ago, she boldly left her company to establish her own studio. Since then, she began creating her own music, only occasionally joining charity projects. She seemed to have vanished from the entertainment scene, yet no one surpassed her. When her first original song was released, her fame soared to new heights. That pure love single, “Looking Up,” swept Asian charts and lingered at the top, even dominating Western charts and cementing her as an unrivaled diva.

Since then, every Mu Qingyan release caused a stir and frenzy across Asia, subtly shaping the music scene, becoming a trendsetter.

Fans called her a perfect legend.

Professionals said Mu Qingyan was the source of countless legends—her very existence was legendary, every action a miracle.

It was rumored her core fanbase exceeded five hundred million, across races and borders—perhaps exaggerated, but indicative of her influence.

Now, Mu Qingyan was staying here to shoot the MV for her upcoming single. Her MVs were always self-directed, offering the most glimpses of her personal presence.

“Aunt Mei, why did you come in? Weren’t you just taking a call? Whose call—was it Old Wu’s?” Mu Qingyan affectionately wrapped her arms around Xu Mei’s neck, like a child seeking affection, a side unknown to outsiders.

“Yes, I took a call, but it wasn’t Old Wu. Guess whose call it was?” Xu Mei didn’t push her away, but asked meaningfully.

“Was it my dad?” Mu Qingyan’s expression changed, looking displeased. “Aunt Mei, don’t answer my dad’s calls anymore. It’s so annoying—he keeps trying to set me up on blind dates. Does he think I can’t find a husband?” She grumbled, letting go and sitting on the bed’s edge.

Xu Mei sighed, hesitated, then finally said, “It wasn’t your dad—it was Chu Fei.”

“What? My husband called?”

Mu Qingyan jumped up, excitement in her voice, “Quick, quick, give me the phone!”