Transmigrated as the CEO's Top-Tier Stand-in - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The music from the phone in the room was loud.

The rhythmic beat was like a drum, hitting the heart one after another. Even the edges of the mirrors embedded in the walls seemed to faintly vibrate, as if tapping along with the music.

A figure dancing continuously with the music was reflected in the mirror. Because her limbs were coordinated and her dance moves were fluid, the silhouette subtly carried a harmonious beauty of rhythm, an attraction that was soft yet resilient.

However, the dancer’s breathing gradually became unstable.

Clatter.

Sweat from her forehead was flung onto the wooden floor by a head movement. The dancing figure suddenly stopped slowly. The exhaustion from the continuous high-intensity activity surged up, and the messy sounds of breathing grew heavy in the spacious room.

The dancer lowered her head, her eyelids half-closed, looking at the floor by her feet. Sweat dripped like raindrops from her temples. More of it ran along her jawline and into her neck, coating the slender column with a thin sheen of moisture, like a layer of glaze on porcelain, glistening.

The casual, pure cotton clothes clinging to her body had been transformed into a tight outfit by the sweat, sticking tightly to her waist and unconsciously outlining her shapely, lean waistline.

The person herself was completely unaware of this, standing dazedly for a long while until her breathing evened out. She then walked to the corner, bent down to pick up her phone. Her fingertip left two streaks of water on the screen, slipping, and the music player mercilessly skipped to the next song.

Fortunately, she quickly found a dry spot on her clothes, casually wiped off the sweat, and finally returned the music to the previous track.

The former melody quickly filled the room.

However, a few minutes later—

The same movements, the same hesitation and pause, occurred once again.

The person who had stopped stood there, still quietly evening her breath, like an insensitive machine, silently recalling the wrong move and the feeling of it. Once her breathing stabilized slightly, she planned to repeat the same technique.

But in the gap while she was picking up her phone to skip back, she suddenly glanced toward the door.

The door to the room, which had been closed tightly, was now slightly ajar. A small, brown, smooth-furred Corgi was lying there with its ears pricked up, its wet, round eyes fixed in her direction.

One person and one dog, as their eyes met, the Corgi slightly lifted its head, moved its mouth, and softly whimpered, surprisingly producing a human voice:

“Practicing Poppin again?”

She nodded.

The Corgi asked again: “Aren’t you better at Jazz?”

She answered without blinking: “Mm.”

As if she couldn’t detect the doubt in its tone.

Poppin and Jazz are two different dance styles. The former is a category of street dance, while the latter has its own system with several branches. There are distinct differences between the two. Generally speaking, the dance movements and habits of someone trained in Jazz are different from those from a street dance background, and it is almost impossible to dance both genres authentically.

The Corgi didn’t know why Ji Yu, who was clearly from a Jazz background, was so obsessed with practicing street dance. The question had no answer, so it lay back down on the floor to be an audience.

However, even though Ji Yu had planned to practice again, the indoor music stopped a while later.

The Corgi once again lifted its round head, its semicircular ears peering in the girl’s direction.

Ji Yu raised her right index finger and lightly placed it on her lips, making a “shush” gesture toward it. She then proactively answered the vibrating phone call, her voice noticeably softening:

“Assistant Xue.”

Xue Lian was the assistant to Meng Rendong, the CEO of Huangting Entertainment.

Meng Rendong had taken a phone call in her office just before getting off work, and her mood was clearly much worse. Although her expression was still the same cold and detached look as usual, Xue Lian had followed her for seven or eight years and could more or less judge Meng Rendong’s mood index from the surrounding air temperature.

When the boss is in a bad mood, the subordinates naturally won’t have an easy time. Xue Lian observed the situation and boldly offered a small suggestion:

“CEO Meng… should we go to Miss Ji’s place?”

Xue Lian had seen people around Meng Rendong before. Ji Yu wasn’t the first, but she was the one she had seen stay the longest. So she thought this person must have some ability.

Meng Rendong, who had been leaning back in the seat with her eyes closed to rest, opened them when she heard Xue Lian’s words and looked towards the front seat. Her gaze was like a sharp sword, cold and fierce, causing Xue Lian to shiver, nearly biting her tongue, thinking she had said something wrong.

Fortunately, the next moment, Meng Rendong lightly withdrew her gaze, as if nothing had happened, and gave a casual reply.

Xue Lian secretly breathed a sigh of relief, attributing the moment to her own misperception.

She estimated that the drive from the company to Ji Yu’s place would take only half an hour. If she sent a message and Ji Yu missed it, and she happened to be out, Meng Rendong’s mood would only worsen.

So, she decided to call directly.

The person on the other end seemed to be guarding her phone constantly. It only beeped once before being quickly answered. After a sweet, “Assistant Xue,” her tone carried a hint of eager laughter:

“Is she coming today?”

Just like countless women kept outside, waiting in an empty house for their sugar daddy to arrive.

Xue Lian couldn’t help but feel a little contempt.

After a brief reply, she notified her in an official tone: “Will arrive in forty minutes at the latest.”

The person on the other end of the phone seemed unaware of her cold attitude and still asked gently: “Has she had dinner? If not, is there anything she wants to eat tonight?”

Xue Lian glanced at the rear-view mirror.

Seeing no reaction from Meng Rendong to the question, she replied on her behalf: “No, just stick to your usual routine.”

She hung up the phone.

Ji Yu looked down at herself, finally noticing her sweaty and disheveled appearance. She instinctively pushed off the floor and quickly headed toward the bathroom. She took a five-minute combat shower, set the hairdryer to the highest heat and speed, quickly blast-dried her hair to a semi-dry state, and then rolled up her sleeves and went to the kitchen.

Because Meng Rendong’s visits were irregular, Ji Yu was accustomed to keeping her favorite ingredients stocked in the refrigerator. Now, she had to quickly prepare sweet and sour spare ribs, candied sweet potatoes, stir-fried vegetables, and a tofu soup—a simple meal of four dishes and one soup, rushed and clumsy in the thirty minutes she had.

Marinating the ribs took a lot of time.

Fortunately, the house had a pressure cooker, which could tenderize the ribs in ten minutes. And for a shortcut, she chopped tomatoes and mixed them with ketchup, then put the cooked ribs in the sauce to simmer on high heat before reducing it to low, finally thickening it with cornstarch. The taste was still satisfactory.

While the ribs were marinating, Ji Yu chose the easiest vegetable to prepare, lettuce, plucking the leaves one by one. She also washed and replaced the water for the rice, washed and cubed the sweet potatoes, put them in the rice cooker to steam together, and simultaneously put a small frying pan on another burner to slowly melt sugar into syrup.

She was rushing, yet there was a clueless presence in the house. The Corgi had followed her the moment she entered the kitchen, circling around her feet, hindering her work. While doing so, it sniffed around with its nose and vocalized:

“I want spare ribs too…”

“Save a piece of spare rib for me.”

Ji Yu shook her head, looking down at it. “No.”

The Corgi was about to argue when Ji Yu’s right hand, which was wet, curved her fingertip and gently flicked a drop of water onto the Corgi’s nose. In the instant it sneezed from the tickle, she said warmly:

“Next time she’s not here, I’ll cook you a special feast.”

“Not today.”

The Corgi was about to argue again, but Ji Yu had already plunged back into the kitchen business, not forgetting to drop another sentence: “You’ve been talking too much lately, you’ll scare people. Activate block mode, System.”

Corgi: “…”

It seemed to want to say something else, but after a moment, it tucked its tail between its legs and dejectedly walked out, only letting out soft, unconvinced “woof, woof” sounds.

Meng Rendong’s car was stuck in traffic for over ten minutes.

After all, it was rush hour in a prosperous first-tier city; there wasn’t a road that wasn’t blocked. Luckily, she left the company early, otherwise, she didn’t know how long she would have gone hungry on the road.

After opening the door with the code, she immediately smelled a sweet and sour aroma.

It was the smell of sweet and sour spare ribs.

Ji Yu always seemed to remember her taste.

The thought fleetingly crossed Meng Rendong’s mind.

But she quickly dismissed the trivial detail and walked inside.

Ji Yu happened to be coming out of the kitchen. Her hair was slightly loose from its semi-dry state, curling in waves, with wine-red highlights faintly visible—like a glass of red wine in the darkness, inadvertently reflecting an intoxicating glow.

Even with such a seductive hair color, this person had to put on an innocent look, flashing her an obedient smile. She placed the just-cooked spare ribs on the dining table, then walked over and hugged her, saying softly and sweetly:

“You’re back.”

Meng Rendong paused, looking at the dishes on the dining table. She was about to walk over, but Ji Yu refused to let go, insisting on clinging to her affectionately.

So much so that she had to actively pull Ji Yu’s wrist away to free herself to walk.

She couldn’t stand Ji Yu’s suffocating clinginess, like a fish out of water without her.

Ji Yu, whose hand was brushed away, remained silent for a moment. Then, she followed her closely to the dining table, pulled up a chair to sit next to her, inching and rubbing against her until Meng Rendong suddenly raised her hand and pressed down on Ji Yu’s lower back, pushing the person against her.

Ji Yu slightly looked up at her, her beautiful peach blossom eyes deep and focused. Even her breathing unconsciously paused.

Meng Rendong lowered her head and met that pool of deep affection.

The hall was silent for a moment, followed by the faint sound of fabric rubbing—

Then, Ji Yu let out a soft “hmm,” the final note slightly prolonged and a little husky, like deliberate seduction.

Meng Rendong raised her hand, pinched her waist, and then removed her hand from the shadow cast by her loose top, unfolding her fingers for Ji Yu to see. A layer of moisture coated them, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

The glistening on her fingertips even flowed into the creases between her fingers, making the scene inexplicably suggestive.

Ji Yu lowered her head and gently rubbed her head against Meng Rendong’s cheek, a clear hint of invitation.

Meng Rendong, however, slowly and deliberately wiped her wet fingertips, one by one, across Ji Yu’s cheek. Seeing the person’s cheeks turn flushed, whether from shyness or desire, she leaned closer. Her breathing became heavier, even a little burning.

Ji Yu heard her ask in that cold voice, slowly and deliberately:

“Why are you so wanton again?”

“Were you secretly playing by yourself while I was away?”

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