Chapter 70: The Young Heartthrob

Why?
“Aren’t you in desperate need of money? I’ll give you a yearly salary of five hundred thousand!” Masvi thought she was offering a generous price.
She hurried to add, “And there’s a year-end bonus too, with no less than a hundred and twenty thousand in extra income every year.”
All together, that would be five or six hundred thousand a year—it sounded rather impressive.
“I am short on money, I do need it, but my current job isn’t bad. I make a hundred or two hundred thousand a year, my boss treats me well, this car belongs to her, gives me a lot of freedom, and above all, her money has a clear source and destination,” Yang Changfeng said calmly.
Spending each day with a superstar might be the dream of some die-hard fans. Though he felt some instinctive attraction toward Masvi, the entertainment industry always reminded him of a cesspool, which made him feel nothing but disgust.
“Get out, someone’s here to pick you up.” Yang Changfeng was starting to lose his patience.
He should probably go back and see how that brat Wang Hu was doing. With all those stimulants, the kid would be grateful—rare chance for a man’s vigor…
Masvi turned her head and immediately frowned, her beautiful brows knotting together.
“Why is he here?” Masvi’s eye twitched, her thoughts wandering somewhere they probably shouldn’t.
Yang Changfeng took a closer look. Two people came out from the security booth: a plump woman and a tall, lanky man, almost stick-like. He seemed to fit the internet’s obsession with those long legs girls love to gush over.
His steps were unsteady—too much wine and women, a man ruined by indulgence.
Yang Changfeng had a sharp eye for people; a glance was enough to judge their vitality. The tall man wore a hat pulled low, hiding his face, but his posture and gait betrayed his current state of mind.
Anyone who’s panting after three minutes on a treadmill and doesn’t know moderation—if he’s not hollowed out, who is?
As they drew near, Yang Changfeng caught sight of the man’s face and started, realizing he looked awfully familiar.
He couldn’t be more than twenty-one or twenty-two, but age in the entertainment industry is always a mystery; they keep themselves looking young. This must be him.
His hair was dyed golden and parted down the center, his skin fair and delicate, with features that were genuinely pleasing.
Where had he seen this guy before?
Masvi shot Yang Changfeng a scornful glance for his muttering and took the initiative to introduce him. “Lan Yiheng, one of the most famous idols in the country. You seriously don’t recognize him?”
That can’t be right. Even with clothes on, I can recognize the leading ladies of Japanese films. And this guy is Lan Yiheng?

No, it can’t be.
Yang Changfeng widened his eyes and looked again, finally recognizing him.
Ah, the “Prince of Rhinestones.” He always had rhinestones on his clothes, rhinestones on his ears; without them, he’d be unhappy. Supposedly he was already thirty, but appeared dazzlingly young on TV. Was he really this youthful in real life?
He sure knew how to take care of himself!
Yang Changfeng clicked his tongue in amazement. Masvi scoffed, “Give him two liters of water and see what he looks like then. With a mess of a private life like his, all the grooming in the world can’t hide the truth. He looks even older than you!”
What the hell!
How do I look old?
Say that to my face!
There was a sharp rap—no, a pounding—on the car window.
Lan Yiheng glanced at the Audi. Expensive, but for someone who drove a Ferrari, it was nothing special.
Yang Changfeng frowned and rolled down the window, wondering if this guy was looking for a fight.
Lan Yiheng barked, “Who the hell are you?”
The plump woman tugged at him. Anyone driving such a nice car must have money; best not to offend him.
Masvi’s tone was icy. “What are you doing here?”
Lan Yiheng’s face instantly lit up with a smile as he ran over and banged on the window, shouting, “Weiwei, get out of the car! Don’t hang around with this kind of guy. Look at how shabbily he’s dressed—probably driving someone else’s car to show off.”
Yang Changfeng laughed, “No, I’m just a driver, chauffeuring my boss around.”
The plump woman immediately wiped the smile from her face. Figures—dressed so plainly, how could he be rich?
“Weiwei, come on out. He’s been waiting for you a long time.” The woman, Masvi’s agent, was all in favor of rumors between Masvi and Lan Yiheng—a powerhouse duo, after all.
Masvi sneered, “Oh really? Did you all see what just happened?”
The woman looked embarrassed. “Don’t blame him, he’s just looking out for you. If rumors started now, it wouldn’t be good for either of you. You’re both on the rise, career-wise…”

Yang Changfeng watched the scene unfold, glancing from Masvi to Lan Yiheng to the plump woman—what a marketplace of fame and fortune the entertainment world was.
“Time to get out, Miss Ma, or do you want me to throw you out?” Yang Changfeng said with a smile. “In any case, today was worthwhile—I got to see some fresh meat, and he’s alive. Not a wasted trip.”
Masvi caught the sarcasm immediately.
“Enough from you,” she said, worried her agent would get hit, and quickly stopped her from speaking.
Lan Yiheng, sensing the mood, pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, scribbled a signature, tossed it into the car, and barked, “Take my autograph and get lost, kid. If I see you pestering Weiwei again, you’ll regret it…”
“And who the hell do you think you are?” Yang Changfeng wondered where this guy’s overwhelming self-confidence came from.
And with such a low IQ, how had he become such a popular idol?
Couldn’t he tell sarcasm when he heard it?
“Don’t mind it. The entertainment industry is full of people like that.” Masvi nodded at Yang Changfeng, then shoved open the car door with force, feeling mortified.
This Yang fellow was proud and stubborn, the kind to deal harshly with people like Wang Hu. Offend him? Not worth it—especially if her own agent crossed him. Someone as petty as he was could ruin you before you even realized what was happening.
Ruthless, cunning, and, more importantly, he seemed to have a significant reputation in Jiangzhou’s underworld.
The plump woman shot a fierce glare at Yang Changfeng. Sure, he drove an Audi, but how high could his status really be?
Even if his boss was pursuing Masvi, he was no big shot.
Yang Changfeng was about to drive away when Masvi gave a cold laugh. “Lan Yiheng, do you know there are two types of men I’ll never give the time of day to? The promiscuous, and those who lack backbone. Do I need to make myself any clearer?”
The plump woman hastened to mediate. “Weiwei, don’t set your sights too high.”
She gave a meaningful glance at Yang Changfeng, who was leaning on the steering wheel watching the spectacle, and added with hidden intent, “It’s good to find someone decent; I hope you do. But you shouldn’t shut Lan out entirely—he’s making an effort, isn’t he?”
Lan Yiheng quickly pledged, “Yes, yes, I’ve turned down so many dates. Really, I’m working hard to change. Look—”
“I don’t care who you’ve slept with among your fans. I’m not interested, and don’t you find it shameful to have hidden just now?” Masvi sneered. “I would never be with a man who only thinks about gains and losses when trouble comes. Not a chance!”