Limited-Time Attachment - Chapter 22

Song Ming’s temper was a carbon copy of Song Zhongtian’s.

Though she was loath to admit it, her personality truly resembled her father’s more than anyone else’s. Song Ming was arrogant. Song Zhongtian was even more so.

Presumably, since Song Zhongtian took the reins of the Song family at the end of the last century, no one had dared to challenge him to his face like this. Therefore, when the slap landed on her cheek, Song Ming wasn’t particularly surprised.

“I came here to warn you to restrain yourself,” Song Zhongtian said coldly. “Not to have you put on this hopeless display for me.”

Song Ming slowly turned her head back, carelessly brushing a strand of hair aside. She wasn’t actually that close to the old man, for him to strike her directly now, he must have been truly livid.

…But what did that have to do with her?

“Fine, Dad,” Song Ming shrugged. “I’ll do whatever makes you happy.”

Song Zhongtian’s brow furrowed, the lines between his eyes as deep as knife carves. His words were cold and biting: “Song Ming, I thought you were past the age of taking pride in your own self-destruction.”

Song Ming didn’t answer then. After all, by Song Zhongtian’s standards, she wasn’t “taking pride in self-destruction” she was the destruction itself.

Song Ming fished a lighter out of her pocket. With a crisp metallic clack, a flame flickered to life. She brought the flame to her cigarette, lighting the tip held between her teeth, and gave Ji Shan a muffled reassurance:

“Didn’t I say I’d finish this project? Why are you always in such a frantic rush? Looking for trouble where there is none.”

“???” Ji Shan looked pained. “Who was it that disappeared for days on end? All the work for the past few days was done by Luo Ren. You call that ‘finishing it properly’?”

Song Ming thought for a moment. “Finishing it… and finishing it properly… aren’t exactly the same thing, are they?”

Ji Shan was stunned. “…Are you playing me?”

Song Ming stayed silent. Ji Shan, incredulous, circled around to stand in front of her. “President Song, Big Sis… Ancestor! We’ve known each other for quite a long time now, haven’t we? We’ve built a deep revolutionary friendship, right? Are you seriously playing me?”

“Tch,” Song Ming sighed, annoyed by his badgering. “What, did something go wrong?”

“The miracle is that nothing did go wrong!” Ji Shan exclaimed. “Do you have any idea how anxious I’ve been while you were gone? I was scared to death that President Zhou would come looking for trouble. If she actually showed up, how was I supposed to handle her? Just thinking about it gives me chills.”

“Forget it,” Song Ming took a drag of her cigarette, her expression flat. “She wouldn’t bother.”

“Eh?” Ji Shan blinked. “How do you know?”

He had only found out through the small talk of assistants; Song Ming had just returned, so how could she be so sure that Zhou Jibai had no intention of settling scores?

Song Ming ignored him. Who would know their ex-girlfriend better than her?

Ji Shan was long used to her dismissive attitude. He calmed himself down with a few breaths, but his attention was soon caught by something else. He tilted his head curiously. “Speaking of which, what happened to your face? It looks like there’s a mark?”

…Some people really were born with a knack for poking at sore spots, there was a reason they were destined to get beaten up.

Song Ming’s face darkened as she avoided Ji Shan’s gaze, asking instead, “Are you finished or not?”

Not understanding the context, Ji Shan studied her expression. He couldn’t guess the cause, but he could tell he had just stumbled upon another one of Song Ming’s triggers. He promptly withdrew his foot from the edge of the “death zone” and said decisively, “I’m leaving right now.”

The room fell silent. In the quiet, Song Ming thought of Zhou Jibai and closed her eyes in frustration.

How did things lose control like that? What others thought of Zhou Jibai… what did it have to do with her?

“The brand has made a temporary decision to change the spokesperson. The vast majority of the footage obtained in the early stages will have to be scrapped or re-edited.”

With the microphone placed by the computer, Lin Yu operated the mouse while relaying the theme of this emergency meeting. Most of the relevant personnel from Jiaxin and Yuexi were present, summoned to understand this sudden crisis.

“This is too sudden,” Ji Shan said, the playful look gone from his face, replaced by a serious tone. “The filming is more than half-finished and about to enter the final stages. Changing the spokesperson now not only wastes all our previous efforts, but how are we supposed to manage the schedule?”

Lin Yu raised a hand to signal for calm, his tone sincere. “President Ji, please stay calm. I know this is extremely abrupt. When the brand negotiated with us, we also found it very difficult…”

“No matter what you say, the difficulties we’re facing haven’t decreased one bit, have they?”

Ji Shan and Lin Yu went back and forth, one full of resentment, the other parrying with evasions while others chimed in with attempts at mediation. Amidst the noise, Song Ming sat silently, slowly twirling a fountain pen in her hand. She disassembled and reassembled the parts, her gaze drifting toward Zhou Jibai.

Zhou Jibai, who also seemed like a detached bystander, looked up from her documents, her eyes meeting Song Ming’s.

For a moment, Song Ming’s mind wandered. She didn’t know why, but Zhou Jibai had taken to wearing gold-rimmed glasses when reading documents lately. It was actually quite…

Her beautiful eyes were lined with eyeliner, and that hint of charm at the corners of her eyes almost seemed to shimmer like water.

Zhou Jibai stared at Song Ming and suddenly smiled, looking entirely confident.

It was her. Song Ming pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth. The stray romantic thought was pushed out of her mind as she became certain, this sudden change of spokesperson was Zhou Jibai’s doing.

The minor scandal involving Yu Zhaowan that had broken out recently had long since been suppressed by Song Ming. Even if there were some ripples, they would have quickly been buried by the endless stream of new gossip on the internet, it wasn’t enough to cause any real impact.

For the brand to change spokespeople over such a trivial matter. Song Ming didn’t believe for a second that no one had nudged them.

Song Ming felt that perhaps her two years of idling had mellowed her temper too much, making her too lazy to care about anything. It had led Zhou Jibai to believe she could push her luck.

“It’s just changing a spokesperson,” Song Ming spoke up with a smile.

She rarely spoke during meetings, usually spending her time folding paper or playing with her rings, a picture of pure indifference. This was the first time she had taken the initiative to speak without being prompted.

The meeting room went quiet. Ji Shan stopped bickering with Lin Yu and looked at Song Ming, appearing somewhat dazed.

“If it’s being changed, then let it be changed,” Song Ming smiled. “What’s the big deal?”