For someone like Shen Ming, who's only just stepped into the industry, the gap feels even bigger. Sure, she's started to gain fans, and yeah, her popularity isn't nothing—it's actually kind of impressive for a rookie—but numbers online don't directly translate to financial security. Likes and followers don't pay rent, and she definitely wouldn't be able to afford even the deposit for some run-down apartment, let alone something decent in the city center.
That's why dormitories exist. They're not just a convenience—they're survival. Most companies provide them, but the difference lies in where. Smaller or less reputable agencies usually shove their newcomers into dingy, low-end apartments with terrible insulation, questionable landlords, and neighbors who either don't sleep or don't care. Conditions so bad you'd want to cry the first night you moved in.
But Mu Sheng Film and Television? Different story. The Mu Group has money and standards—family pride kind of standards. They don't just settle for bare-minimum dorms. Under Mu Bai's grandmother's direction, they went out and directly purchased entire units in one of the city's higher-end residential areas, right in the center. Not rented. Bought. Just to use them as dormitories for fresh faces in the industry.
The result? The facilities are polished, the living spaces feel modern and cared for, and security is solid enough.
Inside the car, silence stretched comfortably between them. The city lights flickered past in streaks of neon and headlights, but neither spoke. Shen Ming sat with her eyes half-closed, looking for all the world like she had dozed off.
Mu Bai's gaze drifted over despite herself. The more she looked, the more details she noticed—the faint exhaustion etched into Shen Ming's delicate features, the paleness of her lips, the fragile air about her. That guilt came creeping back, heavy and insistent. How could she have doubted her, even for a second?
Mu Bai sighed under her breath, muttering, "Stupid system."
001, blindsided, practically short-circuited. Excuse me? It hadn't even said anything! Being called stupid for no reason felt like the emotional equivalent of catching a stray bullet in an argument you weren't even part of.
If it had hands, it would've thrown them up dramatically. Bro, I'm literally just existing here!
But then, 001 replayed the scene from its third-person vantage point. And oh, it definitely saw something Mu Bai didn't. The moment Mu Bai's eyes lingered too long on Shen Ming, those "pale lips" that looked all pitiful? Yeah, they curved. Just the tiniest, blink-and-you-miss-it smile.
Oh my god, the system thought, scandalized. She knows. She totally knows the host is staring and is eating it up like free popcorn.
And now 001 was spiraling. This is bad. This is so bad. The host is already half-delusional, and the female lead is out here smiling to herself like she's running a secret side plot. Nope. Game over. GG. It's over, it's over—the host is crazy and the female lead is even crazier!
If it could've texted another system right then, 001 would've been like: help. my host is in a rom-com but thinks she's in a thriller.
The car slid to a stop at the foot of Rosefield Apartments, headlights cutting through the neat rows of trees lining the street. It was one of those high-end complexes that almost looked like a student dorm rebranded with too much money—modern glass, landscaped greenery, and a lobby that probably smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and ambition.
Inside the car, Mu Bai's hands rested loosely on the steering wheel as the engine hummed to silence. She turned her head slightly just in time to catch Shen Ming's lashes flutter open.
The girl blinked slowly, her eyes hazy like she'd been dreaming. For a second there was a soft mist over them, almost vulnerable, like she hadn't quite returned from wherever her mind had wandered. Her pale face looked less ghostly now, some color creeping back in. She blinked a few times, clearing the haze, and then—like flipping a switch—her whole vibe changed. The fleeting fragility tucked itself away, and in its place settled the usual aloof calm she carried like armor.
Mu Bai's chest gave a little uninvited skip. It was stupid, really. She was older, she should've been composed, professional. But something about that quick shift—from soft to untouchable—hit her harder than she wanted to admit.
Click. Shen Ming unbuckled her seatbelt, her movements smooth, deliberate, almost like muscle memory from dance practice. Then she turned her head, catching Mu Bai's gaze dead-on.
Her lips curved, slow, into the kind of smile that made the whole world soften around the edges. "Thank you for today, Director Mu. I was lucky that I met you, otherwise I don't dare to think about what would have happened."
Her voice was low, almost whisper-soft, the kind of tone that snuck past defenses instead of knocking at the door. And Mu Bai—someone who'd handled business negotiations with billion-yuan stakes—almost forgot how to breathe.
She forced her lips into the faintest smile, masking the little storm inside, and leaned on the safety of teasing. "Didn't I say not to thank me anymore? Are you disobeying the orders of your superior?"
Shen Ming's smile tilted even sweeter at that, her eyes glinting with a spark of mischief. "Then, I won't say thank you anymore. How about Director Mu come over to my unit? I recently learned a nice recipe with duck meat, I wonder if Director Mu has time to taste it?"
The words landed like a rock dropped into a still pond.
Mu Bai's eyes sharpened a little. Did this little lamb really not get what it meant to invite someone into her place, this casually, this soon? It wasn't safe. It wasn't wise. The world wasn't kind enough for someone to hand out trust like free candy.
Mu Bai's mind ran through the checklist of things she needed to teach Shen Ming, a whole lecture already writing itself: don't invite people home so easily, don't expose your personal life right away, don't lower your guard because not everyone had good intentions.
She thought, distressed and a little exasperated, This girl has no self-awareness at all. She's too soft. Too trusting. If I don't drill it into her head, someone else will take advantage of it.
Shen Ming, misreading the silence, let her smile wobble just slightly into something apologetic. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, softer this time, "It's okay. Director Mu must be busy…"
But before she could finish, Mu Bai cut in a little too quickly, a little too firmly, as if she couldn't stand hearing the rest. "No, I am not busy…"
The quickness betrayed her calm front.
Shen Ming's lips curved again, this time gentler, satisfied. She unlatched the door and slipped out of the car with a graceful little hop, waiting patiently for Mu Bai on the sidewalk.
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