Chapter 28: He Fell Ill

My god... So she had already known Lu Ming for twenty-two years... What kind of fate is this? As for the fact that both Lu Zhijun and Lu Ming, father and son, liked her, even Lian Youyou felt it was simply a twisted entanglement. Yet, when she thought about it, she didn't find it melodramatic at all. After all, Lu Ming liked her daughter, not her. What was so unreasonable about that? This, too, was fate.

The following day, as expected, Lu Ming fell ill.

Outside, the cold wind still howled relentlessly. Beyond the window, leaves had fallen and flowers withered; there was no scent of trees or blossoms, only the chill of winter in the air. The heavy snow from last night had ceased, and before dawn broke, the snowplows were already hard at work. The security guards in the neighborhood, clad in military coats, used wooden shovels to clear the snow to the sides, forging a path for the residents.

"I've already asked for leave on your behalf, Professor Lu. Please rest well," Lian Youyou said, holding a forehead thermometer squarely to the center of Lu Ming's brow. "Come, don't move, let's check your temperature."

It was the first time Lu Ming had something like a gun pressed against his head. The blood vessels at his forehead and temple began to throb. Yet, as Lian Youyou watched the thermometer's display with such seriousness, Lu Ming found his instinct to shy away slowly ebbing, and he stayed still.

Sensing his compliance, Lian Youyou suppressed a smile, eased the thermometer slightly from his forehead, and pressed the measurement button.

A soft beep sounded.

She glanced at the screen, frowning. "Thirty-eight point two degrees! Professor Lu, you have quite a high fever. Do you have any antipyretics at home, or should we go to the clinic for an injection to bring the fever down?"

"No need, you should go to class," Lu Ming replied hoarsely. "You have several courses wrapping up soon, don't miss your final exams. If you fail, it will affect your graduation. Besides, your practical training class is about to start—you'll need to form groups for the simulation..."

"Professor Lu, you really do worry yourself sick over your students' studies." Even the teachers from her former acting program were not this concerned for their students. Most university lecturers left right after class; rarely did one care so much about their pupils.

In the electric griddle, the golden potato pancake sizzled. Lian Youyou cracked an egg into the center and closed the lid to let it cook further. The siphon coffee pot filled the kitchen with the rich aroma of brewing coffee. On the stove, a small clay pot simmered with millet and red date porridge—a meal for the ailing Lu Ming. There was no millet in his home, so she had made a special trip to the morning market.

In truth, Lian Youyou was very fond of this kind of peaceful, homely life. If not for her quest to exact revenge on those two scoundrels, she might not have wanted to return to show business. She would rather open a dessert shop or some other small store, earning just enough pocket money for herself.

Her phone hummed in the large pocket of her apron. Setting down the ladle, she answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, Miss Lian. I'm an agent from New Star Entertainment. Our company would like to discuss a contract with you. Do you have time?" The voice on the other end was a steady, deep male baritone.

New Star Entertainment?

Recently, several agencies had contacted her, so Lian Youyou had researched many companies online, familiarizing herself with the industry's landscape. Nowadays, the competition in the entertainment world was fiercer than twenty years ago. Not only did artists have to work harder, but agencies vied openly and behind the scenes for resources and attention.

Some companies, in their quest for maximum profit, bombarded their most popular artists with endless engagements. It wasn't uncommon for these celebrities to rush between dozens of events in a single day, leading to more and more cases of artists collapsing under pressure, some even taking their own lives. Meanwhile, those less popular might not get a single job for an entire year.

Even in death, there was no peace. Take her, for example—she had been murdered by Qu Wuyan and Fan Chi, who bribed an obstetrician to kill her. Yet the outside world spun her death into one of the entertainment industry's top ten unsolved mysteries. Countless TV programs speculated on the truth behind her demise, analyzing her life and her romantic history.

Then there was someone like Fan Chi, who had the entire Yunyan Entertainment transform Quan Qing’er through surgery to look like her, exploiting her image for hype.

The entertainment industry never paused for reflection or change just because an artist died. Alive or dead, they would drain every drop of value from you to ensure their profits.

New Star Entertainment was practically a titan in this world. Yet for such a large company, it had surprisingly few scandals. Their artists’ images were carefully crafted, and few relied on rumors or gossip for fame. The management seemed decent, though Lian Youyou couldn’t be sure if that too was just clever PR.

Still, she had faith in New Star Entertainment, because its owner was her former agent, Richard.

Now, the company founded by her old agent had come looking for her. Lian Youyou felt a surge of excitement but kept her composure. "I have time. May I ask how I should address you?"

"My name is Richard—my original surname is Li. You can call me Mr. Li, Brother Li, or simply use my English name."

So it really was him, not just someone with the same name. Lian Youyou was delighted.

Who would have thought the formidable boss of New Star Entertainment would call her personally?

"That's great," Richard's tone was gentle. "Are you free this morning? I've already informed reception—they'll have someone escort you upstairs. You can find our location on the map, but if it's unclear, I can add you on WeChat and send you the coordinates."

"Alright, thank you." Lian Youyou replied as she stirred the porridge on the stove.

She had been so absorbed in the call, she forgot about the porridge, which was now sticking to the bottom.

"Is nine o'clock alright? I have to leave for a business trip after nine-thirty."

She glanced at her watch. It was already seven-thirty, right in the middle of rush hour. "That's fine, I'll make my way there as quickly as I can."

"Then I'll look forward to seeing you. Goodbye." Richard hung up with a smile.

There was no trace of the lofty demeanor one might expect from a company president; instead, he seemed down-to-earth and approachable. Lian Youyou found herself lost in memories of the days she and Richard had once fought side by side.

She carried the bird’s nest potato pancake and the now overcooked millet porridge into Lu Ming’s bedroom.

"Why does it smell burnt?" Lu Ming frowned.

"Sorry, Professor. I got distracted by a phone call and let the porridge burn," she said quickly, untying her apron. "I have to go to New Star Entertainment to discuss an audition. Professor, please eat by yourself—I’ll come back at noon to check on you."

Upon hearing this, Lu Ming struggled to sit up, bracing himself on the bed. "Let me take you."

The roads were slick after the snow, and he was worried she might slip and twist her ankle in her high heels.