Leaving the stifling atmosphere of the Manager’s office and passing through the gazes of the office staff — a mix of curiosity and a touch of ambiguity — Su Yuqing and Zhi Ai walked in silence until they reached the empty safety stairwell.
As the heavy fire door clicked shut behind them, sealing off the noise of the outside world, it felt as though the tension from that thrilling gamble they had just played was temporarily shut out as well.
Almost simultaneously, Su Yuqing’s tense shoulders slumped, and she let out a long breath while leaning against the cold wall.
Soon, a smug and cunning smile blossomed on her face, and she couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle.
“Heh heh heh…”
The laughter echoed through the quiet stairwell, filled with the relief of a survivor and the joy of a successful scheme.
‘I never expected it… I never expected my “Fox Assuming Tiger’s Might Pay Raise Plan” to succeed so easily!’
Zhi Ai stood opposite Su Yuqing with her hands behind her back, her head tilted slightly.
Watching the woman’s blatant smugness, her glassy eyes shimmered with a light that saw through everything.
“Actually… there was never a ‘rival agency’ trying to poach you, was there, meow?”
Her tone was not a question, but a calm statement of fact.
Su Yuqing’s laughter stopped abruptly.
She rubbed her nose awkwardly but soon regained her composure.
“So what if there wasn’t?”
She spread her hands, her tone tinged with self-deprecation and helplessness.
“In the Idol Manager industry, to put it bluntly, I’ve always been an insignificant nobody. I had bet all my resources and hopes on Sunday night’s performance at the City Stadium. I was originally hoping to ride on your coattails to gain some recognition and prestige for myself —”
Su Yuqing’s voice dropped, continuing with a hint of subtle loss and resentment.
“Unfortunately, man proposes, but God disposes. Before the wind could even pick up, my pathetic little boat capsized first.”
Hearing this, Zhi Ai took a light step forward, closing the distance to Su Yuqing.
With a smile that was almost hypnotic, she reached out and poked Su Yuqing’s chest.
“Don’t worry… Let bygones be bygones. As long as you stay obediently by my side and remain my ‘only’ Manager.”
She put extra emphasis on the word “only.”
“There will be plenty of opportunities to gain both fame and fortune, meow. I promise it will be far more exciting than you can imagine.”
However, these words, which sounded like a promise, did not let Su Yuqing relax completely.
The smile on her face gradually faded, replaced by a complex seriousness.
Looking directly into Zhi Ai’s eyes, which seemed capable of enchanting the world, she slowly shook her head.
“Hmph.”
Su Yuqing gave a soft snort.
“Actually, the person I’m most worried about right now isn’t my own future prospects or money —”
“It’s you, Zhi Ai.”
“Me…?”
The smile on Zhi Ai’s face froze, and a flash of genuine confusion crossed her eyes.
She blinked and repeated the pronoun, her voice carrying a hint of doubt and an unnoticeable trace of wariness.
“That’s right, you.”
Su Yuqing nodded firmly, her professional instincts as an Idol Manager overriding her personal emotions.
“I think you should remember that before you officially became an Idol, you signed a thick stack of contracts with Little Paw, right?”
“Yes, of course I remember, meow.”
Zhi Ai answered quickly, but her eyes were wandering, appearing not to care much about those papers.
“It’s just some paper with fingerprints and signatures.”
Su Yuqing looked at her nonchalance and couldn’t help but sigh, her tone becoming urgent and reproachful.
“I bet you haven’t seriously read a single one of the dense clauses and supplementary notes in those messy contracts, have you?”
“What is there to see, meow?”
Zhi Ai curled her lip, looking somewhat impatient.
“It’s nothing more than requirements to be obedient, train, and perform. I just need to be responsible for being cute and performing. Isn’t everything else supposed to be handled by Managers like you?”
“There is! Of course there is! And it’s very important!”
Su Yuqing’s voice rose involuntarily.
She placed her hands on Zhi Ai’s shoulders, forcing the girl to look her in the eye.
“As your current and ‘only’ recognized exclusive Idol Manager, I have an obligation and a duty to remind you of something. Miss Kasahana Chiai!”
She used Zhi Ai’s full name to show the severity of the situation.
“Because of your impulsive whim, you have practically touched some very important clauses in that Idol Contract — clauses that can be called ‘Red Lines’!”
“Red Line?”
Zhi Ai tilted her head, her face still wearing a look of confusion.
“What Red Line? Is it redder than a Collar?”
Su Yuqing was almost driven to laughter by her innocence — or perhaps her calculated ignorance.
“That so-called important Red Line is, naturally, the Breach of Contract Penalty! Meow!!”
She even mimicked Zhi Ai’s verbal tic to emphasize her point.
“First, and most seriously! You! Without reporting to the company, without obtaining any permission, and without any legitimate reason, you decided to vanish into thin air on the eve of a major commercial performance! Your phone was off, you were unreachable, and you directly caused the Sunday night show at the City Stadium — which had massive promotional costs and booming pre-sale tickets — to completely fall through!”
“The stage, the lights, the band, and thousands upon thousands of audience members… everything went down the drain because of your selfishness!”
Su Yuqing took a deep breath and continued, “Just from this point alone, according to the breach of contract clauses, you would need to pay an astronomical Breach of Contract Penalty to Little Paw! That sum of money is enough to bankrupt an ordinary person and leave them in debt for decades!”
As Zhi Ai listened, the relaxed expression on her face finally faded, and a glint of contemplation flashed in her glassy eyes.
She remained silent for a few seconds before asking a crucial question.
“If this matter is as serious as you say, then why… back in the office, did that Manager who looked like he was about to go crazy not mention it at all? He clearly could have used it to threaten us, meow.”
Su Yuqing gave her an appreciative look; it seemed the cat wasn’t stupid.
“Good question. That is exactly where the key lies.”
She lowered her voice as if analyzing a trade secret.
“In my opinion, it’s likely because the Boss behind Little Paw poured the majority of his net worth into this stadium performance — a first in the company’s history of trying to enter the mainstream market. For him, this performance had to be a success; failure was not an option.”
She paused and continued her calm analysis.
“With the performance completely ruined and a massive financial hole already created, even if he followed the contract and forced you to pay the penalty, it probably still wouldn’t cover that huge deficit. Moreover, doing so would mean a complete fallout with you — the company’s only and most commercially valuable star. It would be like killing the goose that lays the golden eggs, cutting off all future income.”
Her conclusion was clear and cold.
“So, rather than going down with you just to vent his anger, it’s better to swallow his pride, pretend to be generous, reconcile with you, and then use your future earning potential to slowly earn back the lost money. This is the choice of a businessman that best suits his interests.”
“So that’s how it is…”
Zhi Ai murmured.
She fully understood the logic.
A flash of realization appeared in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an emotion bordering on regret.
“Sigh… What a pity, meow.”
“Pity?”
Su Yuqing looked at her, confused.
“What are you pitying now?”
Zhi Ai looked up at Su Yuqing.
That familiar sweet smile — a mix of innocence and cruelty — reappeared on her face as she spoke slowly.
“This cat was just thinking it was a pity… that the Boss behind the scenes wasn’t ‘you’.”
Those words were like a cold bolt of lightning that instantly struck Su Yuqing.
“Making you bankrupt and homeless, with nowhere to go, forced to beg for scraps like a real stray cat —”
Zhi Ai used her sweetest voice to describe the most malicious scene.
“That kind of Revenge, that kind of future… it seems a lot better than just making you lose your job and having you work somewhere else, meow. Don’t you think so, Big Sister Yuqing?”
The color drained from Su Yuqing’s face in an instant, and a chill rushed from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.
She looked at the smiling face mere inches away and felt as if she were seeing the avenger who had held the dinner knife over her on the sofa again.
It turned out… this little cat had never given up on the idea of Revenge.
She was just waiting for a crueler, more thorough opportunity.
“Zhi Ai, you…!”
Su Yuqing’s voice trembled with fear and anger.
She wanted to scold her, to question her, but all her words got stuck in her throat.
“Hmm? What’s wrong with me, meow?”
Zhi Ai blinked her large, innocent eyes, as if the words she had just spoken were merely a harmless little joke.
“This cat was just making a reasonable assumption, meow.”
Looking at Zhi Ai’s “what are you going to do about it?” expression, all of Su Yuqing’s courage to resist deflated like a punctured balloon.
She lowered her head, her hands twisting nervously together, and finally spoke in a timid, barely audible voice.
“Could you… please… stop calculating in your heart… how to get Revenge on me…?”