Wen Yuhan glanced down at the cigarette that had been knocked to the ground, sighed, stomped it out, bent down to pick it up, and threw it into the trash can.
The next second, Pei Shaocheng grabbed his shoulder and pinned him against the wall. The back of his head hit the wall from the force of the push, and Wen Yuhan felt dizzy and closed his eyes.
"You really think he's asking you to write something?!" Pei Shaocheng finally lost his temper, hissing, "Last month, right here, that guy surnamed Yu really messed up a newbie kid and sent him to the hospital. He's still not fully recovered! If you go to his place tonight, he'll probably tear you apart, leaving not even bones behind!"
“You know that no matter what, he can’t beat me.” Wen Yuhan paused. “Besides, Feng Yuan is still here.”
"Feng Yuan?" Pei Shaocheng sneered. "Did you see him help you just now? If he could get in touch with Yingzi, he wouldn't be afraid to personally deliver you into that Yu guy's mouth!"
"Okay, I'll be careful."
A hint of surprise flashed across Pei Shaocheng's face, which was quickly replaced by intense disgust.
"You're still going?" He stared at Wen Yuhan with a gloomy expression, took a deep breath, and said, "For such a little fame and fortune, do you have any shame?"
Wen Yuhan paused for a moment upon hearing this, then let out a series of low laughs.
He raised his chin to scrutinize Pei Shaocheng, and said with a smile, "In your eyes, I'm afraid I've long since lost all shame."
With a smile fading from her face, Wen Yuhan tapped the other's chest with her index finger and said slowly, "And what difference is there between you, Pei Shaocheng, and Yu Wanli in essence?"
Pei Shaocheng was stunned, and Wen Yuhan took the opportunity to push him away and turn to leave the restroom.
Instead of going straight back to the private room, he walked through the lush bamboo corridor and out the main gate.
The night, far from the city, carried the scent of earth mixed with leaves, offering a small comfort to Wen Yuhan's churning stomach.
The streetlights overhead emitted white light, and countless large moths were endlessly bumping around the light source.
Perhaps because the light was leaking electricity, there would be two "crackling" sounds every now and then, and the moths would be charred and fall to the ground in an instant.
They know no rest, no repentance.
"Teacher Wen." A muffled voice suddenly came from behind.
Wen Yuhan turned around and saw Xiao Yang leaning against the trunk of a large banyan tree, drunk.
Clutching his phone, he forced a pitiful smile at Wen Yuhan with red eyes and said softly, "I called you several times, but you didn't answer."
"Why did you come out?" Wen Yuhan frowned and walked towards Xiao Yang.
There was a puddle of filth on the ground, which he must have just vomited.
"I need to take this call." Xiao Yang forced a smile, wanting to give Wen Yuhan another one. But the smile froze at the corners of her mouth and then collapsed again.
"What exactly happened?" Wen Yuhan's expression turned serious.
Xiao Yang leaned weakly against the tree trunk, banging his head back repeatedly. He wiped his face and sighed, "The hospital back home called again... My sister isn't doing well." He sniffed hard, "The doctor said her condition really can't be delayed any longer; she needs surgery immediately."
Wen Yuhan's expression darkened. He pulled Xiao Yang close, gently patted his back, and said in a softer tone, "Don't worry, Feng Yuan said the finance department is already processing the payment, and it should arrive in your account soon."
Xiao Yang gave a bitter smile, then pursed his lips and remained silent.
Wen Yuhan paused, then asked, "Isn't that enough?"
Xiao Yang's silence confirmed his suspicions.
Wen Yuhan exhaled and reached for the cigarettes in her pocket, only to find the pack was empty.
"I've made you suffer because of me." He crushed the cigarette pack, his eyes glazing over.
"Don't say that, Teacher Wen," Xiao Yang said hurriedly. "It was me who insisted on sticking with you to learn creative writing!"
Looking at Xiao Yang, Wen Yuhan's eyes shifted from hesitation to a hint of determination. He patted the other's back twice more and said softly, "Don't be afraid, I'll find a way."
"Teacher?" Xiao Yang looked up at Wen Yuhan with some confusion.
Wen Yuhan smiled slightly at Xiao Yang: "You should go back quickly after standing there for a while. The group in the private room are still counting on you to help me deal with them."
After he finished speaking, he turned around and slowly walked back to the restaurant, brushing the stray hairs from his forehead behind his head to reveal his smooth forehead and his beautiful peach blossom eyes.
"Xiao Yang," Wen Yuhan paused, "after your sister finishes her surgery this time, you should consider going back to your hometown, or find a stable job."
...
Standing at the door of Yu Wanli's private room, Wen Yuhan hesitated. He put his hand in his pocket and gripped the fountain pen that he had carried with him for many years.
Click, the pen cap was pushed open, revealing a sharp metal nib.
Wen Yuhan took a deep breath and pressed her thumb heavily on the pen tip.
The pain shot through his nerves instantly, but when he looked up again, his usual smug smile was back on his face.
The moment the door was pushed open, a wave of heat mixed with the smells of smoke, alcohol, and ambiguity rushed out.
Wen Yuhan subconsciously raised her hand to cover her nose, and her stomach, which had just started to feel a little better, began to churn again.
The room was dimly lit; the main lights must have been deliberately turned off.
A boy in a black low-cut shirt is holding a microphone and standing in front of the TV, singing and dancing to upbeat music.
He wore light makeup, his fox-like eyes slanted upwards, and his waist twisted like a water snake.
Wen Yuhan felt that the boy looked familiar, and after thinking about it, she realized that she seemed to have seen him in a talent show.
"Oh my, look who's here!" Yu Wanli sank into the sofa, with one person in his arms on each side.
Feng Yuan was sitting next to him, chatting and drinking with Sister Ying.
Upon seeing Wen Yuhan, Feng Yuan paused slightly, then gave a knowing smile. He stood up and led him to Yu Wanli.
"Quick, make room for our Teacher Wen." Yu Wanli kicked the boy next to him in the calf, and the boy wisely moved to the side.
Yu Wanli patted the seat in front of him, gesturing for Wen Yuhan to sit down. The gleaming beads swung back and forth in his hands.
"Old Yu, what's this?" Sister Ying looked Wen Yuhan up and down and asked Yu Wanli.
Yu Wanli immediately put his arm around Wen Yuhan's shoulder and introduced her to Sister Ying as if they were family: "Little Wen, Wen Yuhan! The great screenwriter!"
"Wen Yuhan? Why does that name sound so familiar?" Sister Ying took a puff of her cigarette. "Oh—I remember now, the one who plagiarized and was boycotted by your circle, right? I thought you were no longer in this industry."
Wen Yuhan's body stiffened, and her fists on her knees clenched slightly.
"Hey, so what if it's plagiarism?" Yu Wanli patted Wen Yuhan on the back and laughed. "Isn't there a saying that Shakespeare wrote all those plays hundreds of years ago? As long as it makes money, even if it's plagiarism well, it's acceptable! Right, Wen?"
Wen Yuhan pursed her lips and remained silent, her thumb, which was pressed firmly against the tip of the pen, was already bleeding.
"I'm here to discuss project cooperation with President Yu and Sister Ying." Wen Yuhan smiled, picked up a lighter from the table, patiently lit a cigarette for Yu Wanli, and took the opportunity to avoid the other's hand on his shoulder, adding softly, "I didn't plagiarize."
"I believe it, I believe it!" Yu Wanli, preoccupied with Wen Yuhan's condition, hurriedly echoed.
“I believe it too.” Feng Yuan observed the expressions of the others and said at the right time, “Everyone says it’s good and bad. Back when Yu Han was still a student, he won a major award at the drama festival. There were so many people who were jealous of him. Making up some baseless rumors and then constantly throwing mud at people, this kind of tactic has been common in the cultural circle since ancient times.”
"Yes, yes, Wen has been wronged. I'll toast Wen!" Yu Wanli took the wine from the table, poured a full glass for himself and Wen Yuhan, and raised his glass to him.
Wen Yuhan took the wine glass and clinked it with Yu Wanli's. Looking at the dark brown liquid, she gritted her teeth and tilted her head back to gulp it down.
Seeing that Wen Yuhan had finished her drink, Yu Wanli was beaming with joy. He grinned at Yingjie and said, "Hey Yingzi, aren't you looking for a screenwriter? I think Wen is quite suitable. Why don't you exchange contact information so you can communicate further in the future?"
"Okay, okay, okay—" Sister Ying nodded to Yu Wanli, took out a business card from her bag and tossed it to Wen Yuhan, "Come visit my company sometime. I just acquired an IP address recently. Old Yu should have told you about it, right?"
Wen Yuhan took the business card, put it in his breast pocket, raised his glass to Sister Ying, and smiled, "Thank you for taking care of me, Sister Ying."
"Let's get this straight, I still need to judge people by their work performance first." After saying that, Sister Ying picked up her bag, stood up, and smiled at everyone, "Excuse me, everyone, I'll be leaving now. I have a meeting at the company early tomorrow morning."
"Are you leaving already?" Seeing this, Feng Yuan quickly stood up, bowed, and gestured for them to leave, saying, "Shall I see you off?"
"You're such a chatterbox!" Yingjie rolled her eyes at Feng Yuan, and under his guidance, she hurriedly said goodbye to everyone present and left the private room.
For a moment, only Yu Wanli, Wen Yuhan, and the few little boys remained in the room.
Yu Wanli had no more scruples at this moment, and his eyes were filled with naked desire as he looked at Wen Yuhan.
He opened a new bottle of wine, poured it back into Wen Yuhan's glass, and said with a smile, "Come on, Wen, let's have another drink."
"President Yu," Wen Yuhan took the wine glass but didn't drink it immediately. Instead, she slightly parted her lips and said, "Could we talk about future cooperation?"
Yu Wanli narrowed his eyes, then slapped his thigh and laughed heartily: "What's there to talk about! Brother Yu is a straightforward man! Just name your price, and I'll have someone draft the contract tomorrow, that's it! Hurry up and do it!"
As he spoke, he winked at a few boys beside him, who immediately understood and quickly got up and left the private room.
Upon seeing this, Wen Yuhan's heart sank. He also stood up and said politely, "Since President Yu is so agreeable, I will have Xiaoyang prepare some sample scripts from the past tomorrow. You can also have someone send me a project proposal. We'll discuss the details at the meeting."
After finishing his sentence, Wen Yuhan downed his drink in one gulp, then turned to Yu Wanli and said, "Director Cheng and the others next door are still waiting for me. Let me call them back for you. Mr. Yu, please continue having fun."
After Wen Yuhan finished speaking, she turned to leave, but Yu Wanli grabbed her arm.
Immediately afterwards, those sweaty hands touched Wen Yuhan's face.
Yu Wanli's breath, reeking of alcohol, brushed against his face as he chuckled suggestively, "A bunch of singers and dancers are so boring. I'd much rather hang out with cultured people like Teacher Wen."
His venomous gaze traveled down Wen Yuhan's neck, and he couldn't resist leaning in to sniff her body with relish.
"What perfume is Teacher Wen wearing? It's making my nose itch..."
Wen Yuhan's expression turned cold. He waved his hand to brush away Yu Wanli's hand that was touching his face, and stepped aside, saying calmly:
"Mr. Yu, you've had too much to drink."
Yu Wanli looked at Wen Yuhan's slender, jade-like fingers, his gaze becoming even more blatant: "Teacher Wen's hands are so beautiful. Besides holding a pen... have you done anything else with them? Hmm?"
As he spoke, he pulled Wen Yuhan's hand and slowly reached down.
Wen Yuhan closed his eyes and sighed. It seemed that today was really not a good day to discuss business.
Next time I go out, I should check the almanac first.
The pen in his pocket twirled nimbly between his fingers before he held it in his hand.
Wen Yuhan softened his tone and said again, "President Yu, please have some self-respect."
"Hehe, how do you want me to behave myself... Ahhh, fuck!"
Before Yu Wanli's cry of pain could even finish, Wen Yuhan had already swiftly turned around, and the sharp metal pen tip instantly slashed towards Yu Wanli's wrist.
He deliberately controlled the force of this move, so that it would not hurt anyone but would be enough to have a deterrent effect.
However, if the same attack had been used a few years ago, it would have been aimed at Yu Wanli's throat.
Yu Wanli trembled and let out a strange cry, completely unexpected that the person in front of him, who could be blown away by a gust of wind, would have such offensive power.
He cursed and swung his fist at Wen Yuhan's face.
Wen Yuhan turned her head to avoid the blow, but her cheek was grazed by the force of the other party's punch.
He pressed his tongue against his cheek and sighed inwardly.
I really haven't been exercising much lately, and my reactions have become much slower.