老司机试看午夜

Sang Yanqing remained silent.

She had noticed upon entering that Si Fuqing’s computer screen was filled with strings of characters, resembling code rather than any recognizable language.

When Yu Xiheng had approached her, he had merely asked her to manage a star.

Was this merely managing a star?!

The door was knocked.

“I’ll get it,” Sang Yanqing stood up to open the door.

The person outside was disheveled, with scratches on her face and neck.

It was Feng Peizhi.

Her face lit up with joy upon seeing the door open, “Qingqing, I’ve come to see you, 1—”

Her words halted abruptly upon seeing Sang Yanqing, her expression turning to one of almost fright: “Sang, Sang…”

“So, you’re Feng Peizhi,” Sang Yanqing’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the matter, regretting your actions and crawling back to my artist? What’s that you see there?”

Feng Peizhi looked down dumbfoundedly.

The ground was bare, nothing was there.

Sang Yanqing, arms crossed, said, “That’s your face and dignity you’ve dropped, better pick them up.”

Feng Peizhi’s face turned red with extreme humiliation and embarrassment, her ears ringing, her lips trembling.

At this moment, she felt like a clown being looked down upon by Sang Yanqing, unable to lift her head.

“Stay away from me, get lost.” Sang Yanqing slammed the door shut with a bang.

Feng Peizhi nearly got hit by the door, stumbled back a couple of steps, lost her balance, and fell to the ground.

She was completely devastated.

Naturally, she hadn’t succeeded in using private photos to blackmail Meng Xue.

Under the threat of Lemon Media, she was forced to delete Meng Xue’s photos.

Now jobless and without any artists under her management.

Feng Peizhi had never imagined she would end up so destitute.

She had heard about Si Fuqing establishing a studio that morning and had shamelessly come over.

Si Fuqing had braved dangers to save people from a sea tornado; surely, she would take her in.

But Feng Peizhi hadn’t expected Si Fuqing to be working with Sang Yanqing!

The top agent in Great Xia.

She dared not compare herself with Sang Yanqing.

Feng Peizhi sat on the ground, disheveled, utterly devoid of any image. Without a legal team, all her assets had been seized by Tianle Media, now she couldn’t even afford a hotel.

Regret gnawed at her, eating away at her insides.

If only she had been nicer to Si Fuqing before, would things be different now?

But it was too late for regrets.

Feng Peizhi knew she was utterly finished.

After preparing the schedule with Sang Yanqing, Si Fuqing, undeterred, ventured into the kitchen again that evening.

And unsurprisingly, another explosion ensued.

She silently surveyed the kitchen’s chaos, unable to comprehend how she, a mechanic, could cause such a disaster.

Yu Xiheng leaned against the door, eyebrows slightly raised, his tone leisurely,

“You said you can’t cook. It seems the word ‘can’t’ is actually a compliment.”

“Don’t look down on me!” Si Fuqing wiped the flour off her face, defiantly, “So what if I can’t cook? Ningning can, and I’ll just live with her from now on. If all else fails, I’ll just earn more money and order takeout. I won’t starve to death.”

Hearing this, Yu Xiheng didn’t get angry but instead approached her, “Chopping vegetables?”

“Of course,” Si Fuqing immediately grabbed a kitchen knife and started chopping. “Bang bang bang,” she went, quickly chopping up potatoes, carrots, and meat.

She even arranged them on a plate, “Look, how is it? Just like machine-cut, right?”

Yu Xiheng hummed in acknowledgment, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms, “Good.”

Watching him take out the seasoning bottles, Si Fuqing was puzzled: ‘

A few seconds later, she slowly asked, “Boss, don’t tell me you know how to cook.”

He always carried an air of nobility, sometimes to the point of seeming unreal.

It was hard to associate him with the mundane tasks of the mortal world.

As if he was born to sit high above, worshipped by all.

Yu Xiheng’s expression paused for a moment, his tone unflustered, “Just home cooking, very ordinary, doesn’t count as knowing how to cook.” “Actually, home-cooked meals are the best,” Si Fuqing said. “Before…” Before, it was Lu Qingning who cooked for them.

Lu Qingning was an excellent cook, no worse than any state banquet chef.

She had even taught her, but alas, she could only grill meat.

If Lu Qingning were here and knew she kept blowing up the kitchen, she’d probably laugh until she couldn’t straighten her back.

“Boss, let me assist you,” Si Fuqing snapped back to reality, eager to try.

“Maybe I’ll get the hang of it.”

Yu Xiheng glanced at her, the evening sun softening his facial features, his brows and eyes exuding elegance and grace, “Then come on..”