The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 34

I want to sleep with you.

The moment Su Jin saw that message, her expression immediately darkened.

So this was what all the fuss about adding her on WeChat and anxiously waiting online had been about.

Zhou Ying, you really outdid yourself.

Frowning, Su Jin tapped open Zhou Ying’s profile without hesitation and chose Delete Friend.

Tonight, the night sky was beautiful. Vast swathes of stars twinkled above, lighting up the darkness around her.

Su Jin stared at the sky for a while, then found a quiet little bench and sat down. She tossed her phone aside and pulled her guitar from behind her, cradling it in her arms.

The song she had been working on was almost finished, just a few details left. She’d been stuck for days, simply because it was missing that tiny spark of inspiration at the very end.

She sighed, strumming a few strings absentmindedly as she gazed at the endless stars, lost in thought.

After a while, her phone—tossed aside—vibrated again.

Glancing sideways, Su Jin saw a new friend request pop up:

Zhou Ying wants to add you as a friend.

A CEO so relentlessly persistent in chasing someone just to hook up? Su Jin had never seen anything like it.

She frowned and immediately rejected the request, giving Zhou Ying no leeway whatsoever.

Yet no sooner had she hit “Decline” than another request appeared—this time with a note attached. Zhou Ying, flustered, was explaining:

“I made a typo! I don’t want to sleep with you! I meant to ask you to collaborate on a shoot!”

It even came with a crying emoji. Coupled with the message, it looked pitiful in the most helpless way.

“Collaborate on what?” Su Jin didn’t rush to add her. She replied in the note section: “What are you up to this time?”

“I’m not up to anything,” came the quick reply. “Just add me. I’ll explain everything on WeChat. Really, really.”

She sounded desperate.

Su Jin stared at the pitiful little “really, really” for a long moment, then couldn’t help but curl the corners of her mouth.

Though this person was infuriating, somehow, there was just a tiny bit of charm hidden beneath it all.

Thinking this, Su Jin finally pressed Accept.

Jiang Zhinan stared at the screen, her heart practically stopping.

In just a few minutes, she felt like she had ridden an emotional roller coaster—from the thrill of Su Jin initially accepting, to the embarrassment of realizing her typo, to the awkwardness of being deleted, and finally the shock and joy when Su Jin re-added her.

Su Jin was unusually proactive this time: “Speak.”

Even a word longer than her previous replies.

Taking a deep breath, Jiang Zhinan was pondering how to ask her opinion when a new message suddenly arrived:

“What kind of photos? Are they serious?”

“Serious. Absolutely serious,” Jiang Zhinan replied quickly.

“How serious?” Su Jin asked again.

Sighing, Jiang Zhinan realized she didn’t have time to scroll through the girl’s WeChat moments, so she opened her camera and quickly snapped a photo of the high-rise buildings standing under the starry sky outside.

Maybe it was because Zhou’s phone camera was excellent—or maybe she had just gotten lucky—but the photo turned out surprisingly well.

Without hesitation, she sent it to Su Jin, with a note: “As serious as this photo looks.”

After sending it, there was no reply. Not for a long, long time.

Jiang Zhinan felt a little like crying. She kept opening the photo, zooming in, checking whether she had accidentally captured something inappropriate that might make Su Jin misunderstand her.

Because it was a casual snap, the image looked slightly blurred—soft and dreamlike.

A cluster of buildings rose and fell with gentle rhythm; some were engulfed in darkness, others lit up with scattered neon lights.

Below lay endless darkness, dotted with street lamps casting pools of delicate light on the ground, bright yet quiet.

Above, the stars sparkled like sugar scattered from heaven—tiny, yet enough to light every child’s dream.

It was a perfectly serious and beautiful photo.

After examining it several times, Jiang Zhinan reached this conclusion.

She didn’t know which little detail had triggered Su Jin.

Sighing, Jiang Zhinan thought Su Jin probably wouldn’t reply again. She sat up, preparing to take a shower and go to bed.

But before she could put her phone down, a new message appeared.

It was an audio file over a minute long, followed by one word: “Listen.”

She didn’t know what it was.

Jiang Zhinan tapped it. In an instant, soft, quiet guitar music flowed into her ears, filling her mind unprepared.

Gentle, light, yet with a faint chill, like a rose blooming in a cage—beautiful, fragrant, but sharp and poisonous.

Jiang Zhinan had never heard a melody like this.

She froze, her breathing unconsciously held, sitting motionless as she listened.

After a moment, Su Jin’s voice joined the music.

This time, as she listened, the intimidating chill seemed to dissipate—or maybe it was still there, hidden in the shadows—only showing the side that shimmered with light.

Jiang Zhinan couldn’t tell much about the song technically, but that didn’t stop her from judging it.

It was genuinely beautiful.

“Did you write this yourself?” After listening, Jiang Zhinan sent Su Jin a message. “It’s really good.”

“Mm,” Su Jin replied.

“Was it inspired by the photo I just sent you?” Jiang Zhinan asked, her tone clearly testing the waters.

This time, Su Jin didn’t respond. She simply said she was heading home and that they could talk later.

Seeing her about to leave, Jiang Zhinan quickly brought up the photo again, asking if she wanted to go.

Maybe.

A moment later, a message came through.

The next morning, Jiang Zhinan got up early, finished getting ready, and went to meet the young lady.

Her name was Wang Xiran. Though she had the appearance of a cute girl, she carried an undeniable coolness, and her manner—both personal and professional—was refreshingly straightforward.

Jiang Zhinan casually poured her a cup of tea, then pulled out the promotional brochures she had brought. She spoke about production, packaging, performance, and explained from multiple angles the advantages of collaborating with her.

Wang Xiran listened attentively the entire time, asking highly focused questions. After over an hour of discussion, they finally finalized the contract.

“Looking forward to a successful collaboration,” Jiang Zhinan said, standing and extending her hand, her eyes curved with a smile.

“Likewise,” Wang Xiran replied, shaking her hand. Her gaze lingered on Jiang Zhinan’s face for a moment before she suddenly asked, “Ms. Zhou, has anyone ever told you that your smile is actually very pretty?”

“No,” Jiang Zhinan shook her head, accepting the compliment graciously. “Thank you.”

Wang Xiran nodded but said no more. The two left the conference room and got into the car together, ready to go eat.

The factory was in the development zone, not far from the city center. Once in the car with nothing pressing to do, their conversation naturally drifted away from work, touching on a mix of topics—from national news to a random streetlight.

Jiang Zhinan, needing to ask her something, subtly steered the conversation toward Wang Xiran’s side projects and the photo she had sent.

“Not everyone can take good photos,” Wang Xiran admitted, clearly enjoying the topic. “Beauty aside, a person has to have a certain presence.”

“It could be gentle, sexy, cool, decadent, rebellious,” she continued. “There has to be something inside. Otherwise, no matter how good your equipment or props are, the photos won’t do the person justice.”

“Exactly,” Jiang Zhinan nodded, admitting she didn’t know much about these professional nuances.

“For example, Ms. Zhou, if you came to me for a shoot, you’d definitely look beautiful,” Wang Xiran said, returning her gaze to Jiang Zhinan. “You’re already attractive, you have a good aura, and your smile, it’s even better.”

Her words were like honey on the lips.

Jiang Zhinan smiled, saying she couldn’t do it herself but had a friend she could recommend.

“Who?” Wang Xiran asked.

That morning, Su Jin had gone downtown.

Her home speaker system had broken, but she had been too busy to fix it and had put it off for over half a month. Today, she finally remembered and brought it in for repair.

The repairman was straightforward. After taking the speakers, he quoted a price, told her to return in three days, and sent her on her way.

Since it wasn’t too late and she had nothing urgent, Su Jin walked slowly, taking in the scenery along the way.

After a short while, as she approached a crosswalk, a familiar figure suddenly darted past her.

It was Zhou Ying.

Su Jin was a little surprised; she hadn’t expected to keep running into her these past few days.

But this time, Zhou Ying wasn’t accompanied by the two mostly useless bodyguards. Instead, there was a woman in the car, and the two of them passed so quickly that no trace remained.

Still, Su Jin’s eyes were sharp enough to catch the woman’s appearance.

She was completely different in type—cute face, tea-colored hair, big eyes, plump cheeks, and skin full of collagen.

A change of taste, huh, CEO Zhou.

Su Jin pursed her lips slightly and began to pick up her pace.

A moment later, she pulled out her phone, opened WeChat, and prepared to delete Zhou Ying from her contacts.

Just before deleting, she saw Zhou Ying’s latest post—yesterday’s photo she had sent Su Jin, captioned with one word: “Stars.”

So charming.

Su Jin frowned and reached to delete it.

But she didn’t get the chance. The car that had just sped past her suddenly returned and stopped in front of her.

Zhou Ying stepped out, smiling even, and turned to the woman behind her with a look of pleasant surprise: “It’s her.”

Su Jin: “…” Who?