The next morning dawned too brightly for Jiang Yue's taste. After a night of sobbing into Li Zhenkai's shoulder, hearing him read her own words back to her as though they were lifelines rather than lines of poetry, she had half a mind to lock herself in her room forever.
But life and contracts, didn't pause for breakdowns.
Tessa had waltzed into her apartment, carrying two paper bags that smelled suspiciously of fried chicken. "Rise and shine, Bestseller Queen," she announced, dropping the bags on the table like she was Santa Claus. "You've got a charity gig at noon. Don't make me drag you there in your pajamas."
Jiang Yue groaned into her pillow. "Cancel it. Tell them the tragic muse is too tragic to perform."
"Not happening," Tessa said, flinging open the curtains with a cruel flourish. Sunlight streamed in like a personal attack. "This event is for children. If you flake, not only will you crush tiny hearts, you'll also hand Zhou Meili the easiest PR win of the year. Now get up."
From the sofa, where he had clearly decided to linger despite having a billion-dollar empire to run, Li Zhenkai raised an eyebrow. He was scrolling through emails with the detached air of someone who had already read ten crisis reports before breakfast.
"She's right," he said without looking up. "If you can read poetry to a global audience, you can read to children. Less pressure. Less judgment."
Jiang Yue shot him a baleful glare. "Children are the harshest critics. They don't even pretend to like you if you're boring."
"Then don't be boring," he replied, deadpan.
Tessa snorted. "See? Even your iceberg fiancé knows better."
That was how Jiang Yue found herself three hours later backstage at a small but well decorated hall, surrounded by balloons, giggling kids, and a suspiciously wobbly looking stage.
The event organizers beamed at her. "Miss Jiang Yue, thank you so much for coming. The children are very excited to hear you perform."
Excited was an understatement. Half the kids were bouncing like they'd been force fed sugar and soda for breakfast. The other half were pointing at her like she was some exotic zoo animal.
"Is that the poem lady?" one boy whispered loudly.
"She made my mom cry!" another girl said.
"She's pretty!" a third declared.
Jiang Yue tugged nervously at her blouse. "No pressure," she muttered under her breath.
"You'll be fine," Li Zhenkai said, standing just behind her. He'd made it very clear he had no business attending children's charity events, yet here he was in a tailored suit that made every other adult in the room look like underpaid staff. His presence radiated steady reassurance.
And then, because her life was cursed, everything went wrong.
The first poem went smoothly. She smiled, she read, the children clapped. The second poem was halfway done when the stage beneath her feet gave a groan like an old man's knees.
"Oh no," she whispered.
The platform lurched. The audience gasped.
And then, with perfect comedic timing, the entire section she stood on collapsed.
Jiang Yue shrieked, falling. But instead of crashing to her doom, she bounced off a conveniently placed trampoline, why was there even a trampoline behind the stage?
and launched like a rocket into a bouncy castle set up for the kids.
BOING!
She landed face-first into a pile of inflated plastic unicorns.
For three seconds, there was stunned silence.
Then the entire hall erupted into laughter and cheers.
"Wow!" a kid shouted.
"Best poem ever!" another squealed.
"Do it again!" a third demanded.
From the side of the stage, Tessa was doubled over, wheezing. "I—oh my God—I can't breathe! Yue, you've turned children's charity into a circus act!"
Li Zhenkai's jaw was clenched so tight it looked like he was physically restraining himself from leaping in after her. His phone was already out. "Fire that stage contractor. And the event manager. And whoever thought trampolines near stages were a good idea."
But Jiang Yue…
Jiang Yue got up, straightened her tangled hair, bowed with all the grace of a Shakespearean actress, and said, "That was… poetic timing."
The crowd went wild. Parents clapped. Kids screamed. Phones recorded. Within minutes, the hashtags were already trending:
#PoetCircusQueen
#TragicMuseInBouncyCastle
#PoetryButMakeItParkour
By the time she rejoined Li Zhenkai at the side, her cheeks were burning, not just from embarrassment but from the knowledge that she had once again gone viral for all the wrong reasons.
Tessa threw an arm around her shoulders, still laughing so hard tears streaked her mascara. "Yue, if poetry fails, you have a solid career in slapstick comedy."
Jiang Yue groaned into her hands. "Why can't I just be normal?"
Li Zhenkai's expression was unreadable, though his eyes softened for a moment as he brushed confetti off her hair.
"You're not normal," he said quietly. "And thank God for that."
That night, the clips dominated every social platform. Jiang Yue was once again the Internet's sweetheart, though for reasons she couldn't entirely celebrate. She scrolled through comments in horror.
"Queen of accidental comedy."
"I came for poetry, stayed for the acrobatics."
"Her fiancé's face when she flew was PRICELESS."
She groaned and buried herself under her blanket. "This is it. My career is doomed."
Tessa was still scrolling gleefully. "Nope. Sponsors love it. They're calling it the most entertaining charity event in years. Donations tripled after you fell. You're literally fundraising with your bad luck."
Li Zhenkai, who was seated at her desk going through files as though he lived there, glanced up. "Your career isn't doomed. It's indestructible. No smear campaign can outpace this."
Jiang Yue peeked at him from under her blanket. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who bounced into a unicorn's butt."
For the first time that day, he actually chuckled. A low, rare sound that sent her stomach flipping.
"True," he admitted, meeting her gaze. "But if you're going to keep falling, Jiang Yue… I'll make sure you always land safely."
Her heart stopped.
And then Tessa ruined it.
From the sofa, she threw a pillow at them. "Aww, stop flirting in front of the third wheel. Some of us are single and bitter, okay?"
Jiang Yue groaned, but she was smiling.
Maybe, just maybe, being cursed wasn't all bad, if it kept leading her here.