Chapter 97 — The Second Young Master of the Mu Family

Mu Ran shook her head, a faint smile ever present on her cold and beautiful face.

“Xiao Yi, keep working hard. I believe in you.”

Chen Xiaoyi was taken aback, a warm current flowing through her heart.

It was the first time in her life that someone had believed in her so wholeheartedly.

Ever since she graduated from high school, choosing not to attend university and heading straight into the entertainment industry, everyone around her doubted her decision.

They called her foolish for abandoning her studies and stepping into the entertainment world, a place likened to a deep, treacherous swamp.

“Xiao Yi, I’ll speak to Director Chen and ask him to let you attend university. You mustn’t give up your education just for acting.”

“Mu Ran, I…”

Mu Ran’s voice was resolute, brooking no refusal.

“No.”

Chen Xiaoyi mumbled in protest, full of reluctance.

“You can look up the other artists at SY. The lowest level of education among them is a university degree. What about yours?”

Mu Ran’s words were sharp, the smile fading from her lips.

Chen Xiaoyi grew anxious, clutching the woman's wrist and whispering in a soft, pleading tone, “Mu Ran, I’ll go to school, I will! I can’t let people look down on me.”

“It’s true that a diploma doesn’t define one’s ability, but if you have the chance to study, you should accept a better education.”

Mu Ran’s tone was cool and detached.

Her words convinced the once stubborn, headstrong girl.

“Thank you, Mu Ran.”

Mu Ran’s lips curled in a faint smile. Her slender, fair fingers rested on the girl’s hands before gently removing them.

“I have some things to attend to. Entertain yourself for a while. As for the matter with your ex-boyfriend, I’ve arranged for someone to take care of it. Don’t cause any trouble.”

Chen Xiaoyi was young and impulsive. Mu Ran worried the girl might act rashly and stir up trouble.

“Don’t worry, Mu Ran,” Chen Xiaoyi replied sweetly, preparing to go downstairs to find her father, Director Chen Qing Shen, and share the good news that she had signed with SY.

Mu Ran watched the girl bounce away, took a deep breath, and turned to head down the stairs in search of An Lan.

She wondered how An Lan was managing the guests.

As Mu Ran returned to the corner where she had just been sipping wine, a tall man with an unfamiliar air sat down beside her.

“Miss Mu?”

The lighting in the corner was dim.

But Mu Ran could still make out his handsome features.

“And you are...? Movie King Mu?” She spoke with a polite but distant smile.

The man before her was Mu Jingrong, the most accomplished actor in the nation—renowned for his humility and gentle manner, beloved by many female fans.

“Just now, you took a girl to my room. Have you forgotten?”

Mu Ran arched a brow, recognizing the familiar timbre in his voice.

“Coming to settle accounts after the fact?”

She met his gaze head-on, lips curving in a subtle smile.

The man sensed the cold aura emanating from her and his eyes narrowed slightly. “No, I just thought the young lady was rather interesting. I’d like to get to know her through you.”

“No.”

Mu Ran turned away, picked up the wineglass, and took a delicate sip.

Her posture was graceful.

Her bearing, distant.

Her movements, elegant.

Yet the man beside her regarded her with clear, discerning eyes. “Why not?”

Mu Ran let out a cold laugh, her tone mocking. “She’s eighteen. How old are you? Nearly twenty-eight?”

Mu Jingrong’s mouth twitched, his left eyelid jumping. He bit his cheek slightly. “I’m twenty-five!”

“Doesn’t look it.”

Mu Ran’s expression was impassive.

“You! Miss Mu, you really resemble someone,” he blurted out.

Mu Ran: Here we go again?

“My mother, perhaps?”

The man sensed something off in her words and tone, but still nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

Mu Ran sneered. “Mu Lang is your younger brother? Mu Jingcheng is your elder brother?”

“How do you know?”

Mu Ran’s lips lifted in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes—her gaze icy. “Because all of you have said the same thing.”

“Miss Mu, perhaps you could join my mother for a meal sometime.”

Mu Ran: Again?

Why did the Mu brothers love dragging women home so much?

“Jingrong, what are you up to?”

Gu Beicheng’s voice drifted over to their corner.

“Beibei.”

Mu Ran rose and walked over, taking the man’s hand.

Her face scrunched up, lips in a pout, looking every bit the picture of a wronged and pitiful girl.

Mu Jingrong lounged lazily against the back of the sofa, watching Mu Ran play the victim before Gu Beicheng.

“Miss Mu’s mood changes awfully fast.”

Mu Ran tilted her head, a half-smile on her lips.

“Beibei…”

“Xiaoran, I finally found you. There’s been a bit of a situation.”

An Lan, dragging her sweeping evening gown, made her slow way toward the trio.

“Second Brother Mu, Brother Gu, you’re both here? Good—maybe you can help think of a solution.”

“What’s happened?” Gu Beicheng frowned, casting a glance at the flustered An Lan, impatience flickering in his eyes.

That An family girl had always been brash and loud, ever since childhood.

“Lanlan, take your time,” Mu Ran said, releasing Gu Beicheng and moving to An Lan’s side to pat her back.

“Xiaoran, I forgot something very important! A lot of foreign directors were invited to this event, but they can’t understand what we’re saying!”

Mu Ran chuckled lightly. “Find an interpreter.”

An Lan’s face grew even more anxious. “I forgot!”

Everyone: “…”

Without interpreters, wouldn’t the foreign directors be like ducks listening to thunder at the gala?

Gu Beicheng shot Mu Ran a look, worried she might panic. “I’ll arrange something right away.”

“I can call my interpreter over,” Mu Jingrong said, pulling out his phone.

“No need.”

Mu Ran smiled gently at Gu Beicheng, then cast a distant glance at the great actor Mu.

She turned back to An Lan, her tone languid and utterly unruffled. “Which countries are the directors from?”

“Four: America, the UK, Korea, and Russia.”

Mu Ran’s lips curled, her confidence radiating ever more strongly. “You go on stage. I’ll interpret.”

An Lan gasped, clapping her hands together. “Right! I forgot you’re fluent in several languages!”

“Miss Mu, don’t overdo it. The SY gala is very important—don’t mess around,” came a harsh, contemptuous male voice from the side.

“Qin, get lost. SY business is none of yours,” An Lan snapped, wishing she could drown the arrogant Qin Yu with a mouthful of seltzer.

Qin Yu knew Mu Ran was the boss behind SY, but thought she’d only gotten her position by leaning on Gu Beichen.

“Out.”

“Out!” Two cold, angry male voices lashed toward Qin Yu like blades.

“Cousin, don’t turn on your own family,” Qin Yu muttered, avoiding Gu Beicheng’s gaze and looking instead at Mu Jingrong’s frosty face.

Mu Jingrong gave a cold snort, his eyes full of disdain and mockery. “Who are you? Who’s your cousin?”

Qin Yu was momentarily speechless, glancing around at the icy faces surrounding him.

He, the second son of the Qin family, had never been treated like this.

“Hmph.”

He glared at Mu Ran. “When my sister Ranyan gets back, you, as the host, better show her some respect.”

“Who invited her?” Mu Ran’s fox-like eyes narrowed, cold light flashing. She glanced at An Lan and asked icily.

An Lan looked baffled. “Not me. I sent every invitation myself. That sickly girl wasn’t on the list.”

Mu Ran met Qin Yu’s gaze with a chilling, unkind smile. “Throw her out.”

“Got it.”

“Mu Ran, don’t be ungrateful! What’s wrong with my sister? And you, An Lan! For old times’ sake, I’ve shown you respect!”

Mu Ran sneered. “You can leave too.”

Qin Yu stormed off, body shaking with fury. When he was an arm’s length from Mu Ran, Gu Beicheng stepped between them.

“Leave.”

Qin Yu’s smile was cold as he spat out, “Fine.”

An Lan snorted at his retreating back. “Come on, Xiaoran, we need to get on stage.”

“Are all the guests here?” asked Mu Ran.

An Lan grinned smugly. “Of course! I’m on top of things. They’re all here. I’ll have security keep an eye out for that sickly Qin Ranyan and throw her right out!”

Mu Ran waved dismissively. “Let her stay. I want to see what she’ll try.”

The two women nodded to Gu Beicheng and Mu Jingrong, then made their way to the stage.

“Gu Beicheng, your woman’s not easy to handle,” Mu Jingrong remarked.

Gu Beicheng’s cold eyes softened as he watched Mu Ran’s swaying figure, a doting smile on his lips. “She’s adorably kind.”

“Jingrong, that eighteen-year-old girl—you’d best steer clear. She’s too young.”

Mu Jingrong abruptly stood, draining his glass in one gulp. “That’s exactly why I’m interested!”

Gu Beicheng patted his shoulder, his usually hoarse, indifferent voice now gentle and conciliatory. “Why don’t you sign with SY too, as a favor to me?”

“A favor? To keep an eye on your wife, make sure none of the young male stars in your company seduce her? President Gu, are you really that insecure?”

“President Gu, you’re good-looking. I’ve watched a few episodes of your variety show—you’re quite photogenic.”

Gu Beicheng frowned, brushing aside Mu Jingrong’s outstretched hand, a trace of helplessness in his voice. “It’s the age.”

“Pfft—fine, I’ll sign. But you know the drill, brother—I want that girl’s information and contact.”

Mu Jingrong was sure Gu Beicheng would risk everything for love.

Gu Beicheng’s lips lifted. “Deal.”

Mu Jingrong’s expression grew serious. “Beicheng, you really have no principles.”

Gu Beicheng: “…”

He had no time for idle chatter.

One hand in his pocket, he turned to leave. “Never mind.”

“Hey, hey, brothers help each other out.”

Gu Beicheng arched a brow, a smile appearing at his lips. “Do you know what you three Mu brothers all have in common?”

“Striking good looks, a penchant for handsome men?”

Gu Beicheng chuckled. He ought to film this shameless man and show it to his legion of crazed female fans.

“No. It’s shamelessness.”

Mu Jingrong gave an awkward laugh. “Go on, get back to work.”

“Are you Gu Beicheng?” A woman with brassy yellow hair, clad in a yellow gown and high heels, suddenly appeared before the two men.

“You’re my cousin, Movie King Mu! Mu Jingrong?!”

The two men exchanged a glance, their auras turning cold in unison.

They ignored the woman and prepared to leave together.

“I’m Miss Qin, Qin Ranyan. Don’t you know me?”

Gu Beicheng glanced at the pale-faced woman, her chin lifted. He made no effort to hide the disdain and indifference in his eyes.

“Jingrong, you tell her.”

“Brother Beicheng! I won’t talk to my cousin—I’ll talk to you!”

The woman clenched her fists. She wasn’t stupid—she could see the distance and dislike in Gu Beicheng’s eyes.

It must be that stingy Mu Ran talking behind her back!

Otherwise, how could someone as likable as her not be well liked?

Gu Beicheng’s lips curved in a cold smile, still ignoring Qin Ranyan.

He turned and walked away.