GOD MODE FRESHMAN: Trillionaire Simulator
Chapter 33: The Misunderstanding

Chapter 33 - 33: The Misunderstanding

Yan Baimei wasted no time. Within hours of her decision, her secretary had contacted Ling Xi'er and Manager Liu, both recently ousted from Yilin Talent Agency.

"Ms. Li has conveyed your proposal clearly," Manager Liu said, his voice tinged with eagerness.

Ling Xi'er, a former Douyin superstar with millions of followers, sat stiffly. Her ¥10 million contract with Yilin had dissolved overnight. Now, Yan Baimei dangled a lifeline: 1.3 times their original salaries.

"Sign with Far Horizon Talent, and I'll grant you both 130% of your previous compensation," Yan Baimei declared, steepling her fingers. "Xi'er, that's an extra ¥3 million. Manager Liu—your raise scales similarly."

The air thickened with greed.

"Deal," Manager Liu blurted, palms slick against the conference table.

Ling Xi'er hesitated—a flicker of conscience—before nodding. "I accept. Thank you, Ms. Yan."

Yan's smile sharpened. "Excellent. Now, conditions." She leaned forward, the overhead lights casting prison-bar shadows across her face. "First: Xi'er, you'll film exposés as a former Yilin employee. Accuse their new CEO, Ye Chen, of... let's say, coercing you into client dinners. Intimate ones."

Silence.

Ling Xi'er's manicured nails dug into her thighs. "But... there were no such dinners—"

"Invent them." Yan waved a dismissive hand. "Your fans will believe tears over truth. We'll amplify it through channels."

Manager Liu paled. "Legal risks—"

"Handled." Yan tapped her phone, revealing a contact labeled Jiangzhou Titan – Net Worth: ¥3B. "My new associate ensures this scandal drowns Yilin in Jiangzhou. If we can't bankrupt them outright..." Her eyes glinted. "...we'll exile them from the city."

The room chilled.

Meanwhile, in a lakeside villa:

Ye Chen stared at his fridge, debating between takeout and starvation. The doorbell rang.

His neighbor, Mo Mengfei—a CEO with the poise of a runway model and the schedule of a prime minister—stood framed in moonlight. "Dinner. My place. To repay the cat rescue."

He followed, unaware that two floors below, Ling Xi'er was drafting his social media execution.

The Trap Sprungs

Mo Mengfei's kitchen smelled of truffle oil and danger. As she ladled soup, her silk blouse brushed Ye's arm.

"Careful—"

The bowl slipped. Golden broth splashed his shirt.

"I'm so sorry!" Mo lunged with napkins, her perfume (night-blooming jasmine, ¥8,000/ounce) enveloping them.

The front door swung open.

Mo's parents froze mid-step, witnessing their daughter dabbing a stranger's chest in dim candlelight.

Time stopped.

Mo's mother inhaled sharply. "Mengfei... who is this?"

Ye Chen met their stares, soup dripping like an accusation.

Author's Note:

Two storms brew: Yan Baimei's fabricated hurricane threatens Ye's empire, while an innocent spill risks capsizing his personal life. When reputation and relationships hang by threads, which fray first?