“Is that all you’ve got?” The bestselling author sitting across the coffee table furrowed his brow and challenged him.
Caught off guard while still riding a high, An Nian was stunned. Being publicly questioned about his work made his face almost lose composure. “What?”
The author said, “Your suggestions are utterly childish. That so-called clever suspense you devised is just pretentious nonsense, and the romantic subplot you proposed is nothing but wishful self-indulgence.”
An Nian’s face instantly flushed bright red. His hand holding the coffee cup trembled.
On the other side, the author was calm and collected, his wrist steady with every stroke of his pen.
An Nian worked at his family’s publishing house — the heir apparent. Whether by real talent or just his dad’s connections, the aura was undeniable. Most authors had to show some respect to the young master, praising his promising future and sharp insight.
But this newly risen genius author was headstrong and proud, lacking social grace. Whether prince or servant, he called it like he saw it. If he didn’t like something, he said so bluntly.
In all his time working there, An Nian had never been insulted so openly.
This café was quite far from the publishing house. Though busy, nobody recognized him here.
Yet An Nian still felt like he’d just been slapped in the face in public, humiliated as if on display for acquaintances to gawk.
His face went pale. He felt embarrassed and wronged — and above all, defiant. Thinking of all the crappy things that had happened lately, An Nian was frustrated and shot back, “Is it my skill that’s lacking, or are you just full of yourself because you wrote a few books and got some fans? Arrogant, stubborn, and self-important!”
The author said nothing, grabbed his coat, and left.
An Nian didn’t bother to chase after him. Instead, he leisurely sipped his cappuccino in the café when suddenly his phone rang — it was the editor-in-chief.
An Nian snorted coldly, guessing it was the big-name author complaining about him. He refused to answer, quickly hanging up. Not because he feared a scolding — no matter how powerful the editor was, no one dared to scold the young master.
Absentmindedly, An Nian flipped through his contacts but didn’t find anyone he wanted to see. Of course not — in his fury earlier, he had already blocked Xia Zhile.
The phone rang again, still the editor-in-chief’s caller ID.
Annoyed, An Nian swiped to answer. The editor didn’t say much, just asked where he was and told him to get back to the office immediately.
An Nian dawdled for another two hours before returning to the publishing house. On the way, he picked up a milk tea, sipping it leisurely as he headed to the editor’s office. But the editor wasn’t there — instead, waiting for him was his father. And there was the author, being warmly entertained by An Nian’s father, sitting on the sofa drinking the expensive tea that even An Nian’s father was reluctant to drink.
An Nian had only managed to say “Dad” when his father snatched the milk tea from his hand and tossed it in the trash, splashing tea everywhere. Then came a furious tirade, his father pointing at the author and yelling, “Apologize to Ran Ran immediately!”
An Nian had been spoiled his whole life. It was the first time he’d ever seen his father take the other side and support an outsider. He was so mad his eyes reddened.
The author was the company’s newly discovered genius. His debut novel had stormed the market, and all his subsequent works were bestsellers with countless fans. He was the pillar of the publishing house, second only to Wang Tu.
And young, reckless, and arrogant An Nian had offended this pillar. At best, he damaged the company’s revenue; at worst, he shook its foundation!
The commotion in the office caught everyone’s attention. People craned their necks to watch the spectacle. An Nian’s face burned with shame as if he’d been stripped naked and paraded in public.
Eventually, he apologized. When he stepped out, he gritted his teeth and glared at the dozens of eyes watching him from all directions. “What are you looking at?”
Everyone quickly averted their gaze, pretending to be busy.
An Nian returned to his desk, stayed until quitting time, grabbed his bag, and left. Passing the break room, he overheard coworkers saying:
“Seeing An Nian get scolded today really made my day! Teacher Ran Ran is so awesome!”
“Ran Ran’s never one to put up with a loser!”
“That editor-in-chief job was handed to him because of connections. He’s totally out of his depth. A college kid thinking he can tutor a postdoc? What a joke.”
“Does he even know his own limits? How dare he criticize Ran Ran’s work and say she’s full of herself? Hilarious. He might fool fools like Wang Tu, but Wang Tu likes him and indulges him. They changed the outline based on his ‘brilliant’ ideas, and what happened? Sales tanked visibly. An Nian tried to cover for him, blaming the economy and industry-wide decline. Then how come other authors keep rising, but only Wang Tu is ‘downgraded’?”
“I thought An Nian would keep protecting his son, but looks like he finally woke up and understands that talent alone isn’t enough. Overpraising leads to downfall.”
“An Nian’s always been weak and gentle. Didn’t expect him to throw shade like that.”
“I heard he broke up with that senior from high school. Must be upset.”
“The doctor who used to pick him up after work?”
“I heard An Nian’s the other woman! That doctor had a boyfriend already, and he’s a prosecutor!”
“Not just a rumor — remember the lead prosecutor on that ‘Lotus Flower Dismemberment’ case that went viral?”
“No way, it’s him? That doctor must be blind. What kind of taste is that, dumping a wealthy, good-looking prosecutor to mess around with a shady little vixen?”
An Nian fought back tears and fled the company like he was running for his life.
For the next few days, he didn’t go to work. He locked himself in at home, alternating between eating and sleeping. He didn’t want to go out or see anyone.
His father called over a dozen times. When An Nian finally answered, he yelled out, frustrated and wronged, “I quit!”
He never wanted to go back to work — his face was completely lost!
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Thinking it was his food delivery, An Nian opened without peeking through the peephole.
“Nian Nian!” Wang Tu appeared, overjoyed to see him.
An Nian’s pupils suddenly contracted. He instinctively tried to shut the door, but the man’s strong hand firmly grabbed the doorframe. “Nian Nian, it’s been so long since I last saw you. Don’t you miss me?”
An Nian’s physique was no match for Wang Tu’s. With ease, Wang Tu squeezed inside the house. “Don’t be afraid, Nian Nian. I don’t mean anything bad. I just came to see you. I’ve been going crazy thinking about you day and night. You’ve lost weight — why do you look so worn out?”
The pain and love in Wang Tu’s eyes were genuine, pure and unfeigned.
Though An Nian had long stopped loving him and even despised him, at this moment—after suffering one blow after another—he felt utterly betrayed and crushed by the world. Yet here was this man who sincerely cared, who pitied him. An Nian couldn’t hold back any longer; the tears he had held in for days instantly burst forth, streaming down his face.
Wang Tu awkwardly wrapped his arms around him, asking what was wrong, furious, “Don’t cry, Nian Nian. Who bullied you? Tell me!”
Love was gone, his career ruined, his reputation in tatters—he had nothing left.
And who was the mastermind behind it all?
The one who deceived his sincere heart, chased him down, then despised him, and finally coldly abandoned him to chase after his ex.
In that instant, endless resentment surged up, turning An Nian’s eyes bloodshot and his heart like it was frying on a hot pan: “Xia Zhile bullied me, boo hoo, I hate him so much! I wish he’d just die!”
Wang Tu’s heart twisted painfully as he hugged An Nian tighter, a ruthless look flickering in his eyes.
“Nian Nian, don’t worry. Leave everything to me! Leave it all to me!!”
