Chapter 0486: Uninvited Guest

Some things that are spontaneous and innocent get lost along the way as we grow up. Even if you forcibly pick them up one day and play with them again, they feel dull and tasteless.

In Zhao Fusheng's view, he didn't actually need any tedious mutual introductions. This was a transaction, not a social gathering. There wasn't that much time to recount your own strengths and advantages, because long before the meeting, this Ms. Chen had already set her sights on Fan Baobao.

An investor who could have a deputy director of the crew relay a message naturally wouldn't have too low a status.

"You're her agent?" Ms. Chen glanced at Zhao Fusheng and smiled faintly. "I didn't expect an extra to have an agent."

She paused, then blinked. "Or maybe you're classmates from school, and you're her boyfriend?"

Clearly, for an adult, seeing through the relationship between Zhao Fusheng and Fan Baobao was not a very difficult thing.

Zhao Fusheng didn't speak; he just pulled out a chair for Fan Baobao to sit down.

The advertising circle and the film and television circle are interconnected. In his previous life, Zhao Fusheng had long been accustomed to such things. But this time, since it involved Fan Baobao, he still had to restrain himself a bit.

Moreover, from Ms. Chen's tone, it seemed she was well-versed in such matters and it wasn't her first time.

So, if Zhao Fusheng hadn't already made arrangements, he really would have wanted to snap back at her.

Ms. Chen didn't know what Zhao Fusheng was thinking. She smiled at Fan Baobao, then carefully scrutinized Zhao Fusheng again, not in a hurry to speak.

Sometimes, no matter what you're doing, novelty is more important. And in her view, whether the game she was about to start would become interesting depended more on whether Fan Baobao was willing.

"Ms. Chen, actually you could consider me. I'm in good health, even if I'm not quite qualified," Zhao Fusheng blinked and suddenly laughed.

Ms. Chen was taken aback and hadn't had time to speak before Fan Baobao glared at Zhao Fusheng. "What nonsense are you talking about?"

Zhao Fusheng smiled and didn't continue the joke. Actually, he wasn't really joking. Being a gigolo is not an easy profession. A gigolo with only a handsome face and no brains is just a puppet. The handsome men who can dominate this circle are all psychologists. They just took the wrong path, so they aren't wearing white coats and presenting themselves with dignity in a hospital...

Of course, Zhao Fusheng's words just now were purely out of boredom to tease this Ms. Chen. He hadn't sunk so low as to take up such a promising career as a gigolo.

If he really dared to do that, without Fan Baobao lifting a finger, Mother Zhao would gladly have one less son and one more daughter.

"Aren't you leaving yet?"

Ms. Chen looked at Zhao Fusheng, frowning as she asked.

Although she tried hard to pretend to be calm and composed, she didn't know why she particularly disliked the look in this young man's eyes. It was a gaze full of aggression, just like her husband who was in the real estate business—when he looked at people, he could always see through them from the inside out.

Zhao Fusheng smiled and looked at Ms. Chen. "A literary young woman well-versed in domestic and foreign literary classics, married to a husband who only knows the stench of money, so life is boring. And not daring to go out and find a man, so you've set your sights on actresses in the circle, right?"

"You!"

As if her fig leaf had been ripped off in public, Ms. Chen instantly stood up in fury, glaring at Zhao Fusheng.

Perhaps that's how people are—before the truth is exposed, they always like to put on a calm and composed facade, but once the fig leaf over their head is torn away, they become frantic like madmen.

"Ms. Chen, I think you'd better sit down. After all, this is a public place, and I don't think you want to become the center of attention, do you?"

Zhao Fusheng looked at Ms. Chen calmly and said placidly.

Before coming here, he had called Jiang Wu, who had someone make discreet inquiries about Ms. Chen's background, learning that she was merely throwing her weight around by relying on her husband, who was in the real estate business.

People are always easily influenced by their own habits.

For example, Zhao Fusheng always liked to dip his wood ear mushrooms in horseradish, and Fan Baobao liked to dip her dumplings in vinegar.

Another example: this Ms. Chen, who liked women, always enjoyed searching among various film crews for pretty girls who were just starting out and had no fame or experience.

What satisfied Ms. Chen about Fan Baobao was that the girl's eyes were full of spirit; she was looking forward to what interesting things might happen when she had intimate contact with this girl.

But all of this was ruined by Zhao Fusheng.

The young man in front of her had successfully angered her with just a few words, but Ms. Chen had to sit down because she had to admit that Zhao Fusheng was right.

Although this was a private room, in a sense it was not her own private space. People were coming and going outside the door, and someone might push it open at any time. If they happened to witness something unpleasant, it would be a great loss of face for her.

With that in mind, Ms. Chen sat down and took two things out of her leather bag.

"This is a bank card, and the PIN is on the back," Ms. Chen said without mincing words. "And this is the key card for the room upstairs. If it's possible, young man, I hope you can leave with the bank card."

As she spoke, she looked at Fan Baobao: "I think we should go upstairs now, don't you?"

No matter how well it was disguised, in the end, a transaction was a transaction, just as reality was reality and fiction was fiction.

And this Ms. Chen had always been the dominant party in this kind of relationship, because of the money in her hands.

Zhao Fusheng smiled slightly and looked at Fan Baobao, whose face was pale: "See, I told you it would be like this?"

Fan Baobao didn't say a word, because before coming here, Zhao Fusheng had told her that no matter how the other party dressed up her so-called liking, in the end, it would come down to money.

At first, she thought it was impossible, believing that the woman would at least maintain some dignity, but now it seemed that the other party had no intention of preserving any pretense.

Hearing their conversation, Ms. Chen was about to speak when the door of the private room was pushed open from outside. Fan Baobao turned her head, Ms. Chen looked up, but Zhao Fusheng didn't move; instead, he calmly began to cut the steak in front of him with a knife.

At the doorway stood a short man, panting heavily. His expensive clothes indicated that he was probably a rich second-generation born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

The atmosphere suddenly became delicate.