Only a single warm yellow floor lamp was lit in the living room, its ambiguous light outlining Kasahana Chiai curled up on the sofa.
She had just finished her shower.
Her damp blonde hair was draped haphazardly over her shoulders, giving off a cloying strawberry scent.
She was scrolling through her iPad, reading trending topics on social media about her weekend performance and the buzz surrounding the selection for Xiaozhua Agency’s Special Chief Examiner.
Her lapis-colored eyes shimmered with a mix of satiety and boredom under the screen’s glow.
Hearing the sound of a key turning in the foyer and Su Yuqing’s intentionally lightened yet weary footsteps, she didn’t even look up.
She simply drawled in a lazy tone, speaking like a cat batting at prey under its paw.
“How was it? Our busy, discerning Manager Su?”
Her voice was sickeningly sweet, yet every word held a hook.
“Today’s New Idol Audition… did you have the luck to encounter one or two so-called genius prospects who could actually catch your eye? Meow?”
Su Yuqing paused while changing her shoes, but she didn’t answer immediately.
She placed her heavy commuting bag on the foyer cabinet with a dull thud, as if unloading a whole day’s worth of futility.
Chiai didn’t seem to expect an answer, or rather, she had already read the answer in that silence.
She gave a soft sneer, her fingertip carelessly swiping across the tablet screen.
Her tone was filled with unabashed mockery.
“I suppose ‘good prospects’ of my caliber must be everywhere in your eyes, easy to pick up by the handful? After all, you’re the talent scout who could discover ‘me’ after all.”
She said the words “talent scout” lightly and airily, full of irony.
Su Yuqing remained silent.
She walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of ice water.
The cold liquid slid down her throat, but it couldn’t extinguish the fire of frustration and anger burning in her heart.
She kept her back to Chiai, not wanting her to see the expression on her face.
“What? Still unwilling to speak?”
Chiai finally looked away from the screen, tilting her head.
Her lapis eyes looked like two translucent, cold gems in the dim light, accurately capturing every rigid curve of Su Yuqing’s back.
“It seems… the result is that there’s not even one?”
She reached a conclusion, her tone as light as if she were discussing the weather.
Yet every word felt like a fine needle pricking Su Yuqing’s tense nerves.
“Oh dear, since you can’t find a single decent one…”
Chiai put down her iPad and stretched luxuriously.
Her soft loungewear traced her graceful curves, but her tone became even more indisputable.
“Then why go back to that… well, meaningless job tomorrow? Why not—”
She drawled, adopting a sort of charitable “kindness.”
“Why don’t I just call Manager Huang and the others now? I’ll say you’re exhausted from taking care of the injured me and desperately need rest. For these next few days, you should just stay home with me and ‘recover’ in peace, meow? Anyway…”
She stood up and walked barefoot, as silent as a cat, behind Su Yuqing.
She leaned down slightly, her warm breath almost brushing Su Yuqing’s ear.
Her voice dropped lower, sounding seductive yet dangerous.
“To be a qualified ‘pet,’ you actually only need to ensure your master’s mood is happy and comfortable every day. That’s enough. As for the hard work of earning money to support the family…”
She chuckled softly, her fingertip ghosting over Su Yuqing’s stiff neck.
“It’s better to let the master worry about that, don’t you think?”
Clang!
Su Yuqing slammed the water glass onto the counter, making a harsh sound.
She spun around, her chest heaving with suppressed fury.
She stared straight into Chiai’s eyes, which were filled with playfulness and a desire for control.
Word by word, the reply squeezed through her teeth.
“Chiai. Don’t. Go. Too. Far.”
Chiai raised an eyebrow, watching her with leisurely interest, as if enjoying the final struggle of a trapped beast.
Su Yuqing took a deep breath, as if trying to exhale all the gloom and powerlessness in her chest.
She lifted her chin, a stubborn flame of defiance igniting in her eyes after being pushed to the brink.
“If you’ve got the guts, let’s wait and see! The world is huge, and there is always someone better! I don’t believe that after leaving you… you self-righteous, stinking cat, I, Su Yuqing, won’t be able to find a second idol to promote! The world keeps turning no matter who leaves!”
Chiai watched her silently for a few seconds.
Suddenly, a brilliant smile spread across her face.
She even clapped her hands lightly, as if appreciating an interesting performance.
“Fine.”
She took a step back to create distance, her lapis eyes flickering with an excited, cruel light—the joy a hunter feels when their prey finally gathers the courage to resist.
“Well said, my… Manager Sister. Then I’ll pull up a chair and wait here quietly and expectantly for your ‘good news.’ Meow.”
That final, drawn-out “meow” was like a cold incantation, sealing the end of their brief confrontation.