Delicate Beauty in the Palm : Chapter 36 - “Be good, Lingling. Come with me.”
Chapter 36: “Be good, Lingling. Come with me.”
[Shocked. So after everyone cried real tears over <Hairpin Flowers> for days, turns out none of the main cast are decent people—except for God Qi?
[OK, first it was Zhan Xiao, who peaked right at debut. Now here comes the second one—also peaking at debut and getting exposed before even warming the seat.]
[No wonder she gets such great resources— <Wilderness Kitchen>, lead in <Hairpin Flowers>... clearly someone powerful’s been backing her hard.]
[Conspiracy theory time: What if Chen Die already knew the paparazzi had caught her, so she dragged Wang Yunxi down with her beforehand to share the fall?]
[Don’t bother trying to defend Wang Yunxi. Neither of them are good people.]
[I’m actually starting to feel bad for God Qi. He just wanted to act, and now both the female lead and second lead are wrecking everything.]
[Damn, those ‘leaks’ about Chen Die were definitely pre-planned. Gotta admit, Yiming Entertainment really knows how to play this game. If this hadn’t happened, Chen Die probably would’ve hit top-tier celeb status within a year.]
[Here’s a little tea: The final episode of <Wilderness Kitchen> originally invited another Yiming Entertainment idol, not Chen Die. They swapped her in last minute.]
[Yep. Sleep with the boss, get everything handed to you.]
The moment that news dropped, it exploded.
The buzz quickly overtook the #WangYunxiZhanXiaoDatingRumors, becoming the new #ChenDieUnspokenRulesScandal.
In the past few days, she’d gained a ton of fans. Since the movie released, her follower count on Weibo shot up by nearly 10 million. Comments under her posts also skyrocketed— but these were much kinder:
[We believe in you, Sister Die. Please say something.]
[I’m so mad. She just debuted and is finally gaining traction—who’s this desperate to bring her down? That pic’s literally just her getting in a car, what’s everyone freaking out about?]
[Is she only popular because she landed the lead in <Hairpin Flowers>? Weren’t y’all mocking her when it was announced? Now she’s proven herself and you wanna cry ‘Uspoken Rules’? Come on.]
[I’m furious. Sister Die is really going through it.]
[Why does one photo mean she slept her way to the top? Even if there is ‘something,’ maybe Chen Shao is just her boyfriend! Who wouldn’t love a face like hers?]
[Let her date the chairman, so what (°:з」∠) Our beautiful queen is untouchable!!!]
[We fans are losing it—why hasn’t she clarified yet?!]
Chen Die: “…”
It’s not that she doesn’t want to clarify. She just… doesn’t know how.
This is clearly a setup.
All she can say is that she and Chen Shao are just in a regular boss-subordinate relationship—but that does nothing right now.
For all she knows, the person behind this might have more photos waiting to drop the second she denies it.
Even if she and Chen Shao are 100% clean, one suggestive photo taken at the right angle could spark a thousand rumors.
And then she’d be truly defenseless.
Of course, there’s one trump card: Chen Shao is her cousin. That would instantly kill the rumor.
But she can’t bring herself to say it. Still, because she knows this truth, she’s not too shaken by the wave of gossip and attacks. But Fang Ruan? She’s a whole different story. The second this blew up, she went into full damage-control mode.
She was pacing by the window, phone in hand, and called Chen Shao.
After two rings, he picked up.
“Mr. Chen, did you see the news about Chen Die?”
Chen Shao had just landed—vacationing in the Southern Hemisphere—and lazily replied, “Hm? What about it?”
“She’s being accused of sleeping her way to the top.”
His footsteps paused. He replied like it was obvious: “Then why are you calling me? Go find Wen Liang to handle it.”
Fang Ruan: ???
“The news… is about you and Chen Die. Paparazzi snapped a photo of you driving her home. Gossip accounts are milking it, and everyone’s jumping in to drag her.”
That actually caught Chen Shao off guard.
He paused for a moment, then laughed: “Oh.”
Oh?! Are you kidding me?!
Fang Ruan nearly screamed internally.
“Whatever. Handle it how you want,” Chen Shao said casually. “It won’t make that big a splash anyway.”
And just like that, he hung up, off to enjoy his holiday like nothing happened.
Fang Ruan nearly exploded, threw her phone on the couch, and turned to Chen Die, eyes wide. “You saw that?!”
“Huh?” Chen Die looked up, confused.
“Men are all trash!!!”
“…”
Fang Ruan fumed. “So are you or are you not going to bring Chen Shao out to clear this up?!”
“There's really nothing to explain. We just happened to run into each other, and he gave me a lift,” Chen Die said.
“Since when is Chen Shao such a nice guy? I've never seen him give any other actress a ride—why just you?!” Fang Ruan snapped.
Chen Die rested her chin on her hand, blinked at her, and said lightly, “Maybe because I'm pretty?”
Fang Ruan was fuming—truly a case of the eunuch panicking while the emperor stays calm.
She couldn't figure out what Chen Shao was really up to, so all she could do was get PR involved to stabilize the situation for now. But Chen Die was so popular at the moment that even PR efforts had little effect.
That evening, Chen Die and Fang Ruan went together to meet with Director Fan Zhen about a new drama.
Yif Pavilion.
They walked into Wanhe Hall on the 8th floor, where Director Fan Zhen and the screenwriter were already waiting. The table was covered with a full spread of cold appetizers.
When they saw Chen Die walk in, they both stood up.
Right now, Chen Die was at the center of every trending topic, and Fan Zhen—still a rookie director—couldn’t afford to show any disrespect.
After shaking hands with both men, Chen Die took a seat, and Fang Ruan sat down right beside her.
The screenwriter asked, “Ms. Chen, what did you think of the script?”
“I liked it a lot,” Chen Die replied after taking a sip of tea. “It’s just that I didn’t really have much experience with slice-of-life dramas back in university. I’m not sure if I can pull it off.”
Her features were striking and defined, with the kind of stunning beauty perfect for leading roles like in <Hairpin Flowers>. The moment she appeared on screen, the audience’s eyes were naturally drawn to her.
That was also how her university mentor had once described her, which is why for their end-of-semester performance projects, she was rarely ever given roles in everyday, realistic dramas.
Fan Zhen said, “You’re already our confirmed female lead—no one else fits the part like you do. We’re still debating the rest of the cast, but your role is locked.”
As he spoke, he pulled a document from a folder beside him.
“This is your character’s backstory and development arc. It’s a growth-based protagonist, which I think suits you really well,” Fan Zhen said.
Chen Die thanked him and took the papers.
It was a thick stack. Reading it thoroughly would take time, and doing so at the dinner table wouldn’t be very appropriate.
Fang Ruan asked, “Have the other leads been confirmed?”
“Still in negotiations. So far, we’ve preliminarily confirmed four major cast members.”
Fan Zhen listed four names—well-known, high-traffic stars in the entertainment industry, but all frequently criticized for their acting skills. One of them had even just trended recently for a painfully awkward performance in a web drama.
Fang Ruan maintained a polite smile.
However, she mentally docked ten points from the production.
With Chen Die’s starting point, how could she afford to waste it on a drama that prioritized popularity over talent?
They asked a few more questions, and suddenly Fang Ruan’s phone rang. She leaned over to whisper in Chen Die’s ear to drink less, apologized, and got up to take the call.
Yif Pavilion was an upscale venue. The parking lot was strictly for guests; no random passersby were allowed to linger nearby. Most people around were sharply dressed socialites or professionals attending business dinners.
The air conditioning inside had made Fang Ruan feel stuffy. She tightened the scarf around her neck, pushed open the door, and stepped out to take the call, leaning against a stone column.
It was a work contact from before, calling to discuss an event opportunity for Chen Die.
While she was listening, she caught sight of a group of men nearby.
They looked like classic spoiled rich kids—smoking casually, dressed in flashy outfits despite the winter chill, shirts unbuttoned to show off chests and collarbones, talking crudely.
Fang Ruan wasn’t interested and turned her back on them to keep talking on the phone. But then she caught a name from their conversation—
“Can’t deny it, Chen Die is really pretty. Who knew Chen Shao got to her first?”
“I just saw young Master Chen a few days ago. He didn’t mention her at all—probably just fooling around. After all, she’s just an actress. You think Old Master Chen would approve?”
“If it’s just for fun, then go through Chen Shao and get introduced. Women like her are once-in-a-lifetime. Even if you have to fund a project just to sleep with her, it’s worth it. She’s a rare one.”
Fang Ruan frowned in disgust. Another man lazily flicked his cigarette ash and said, “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
The others egged him on, asking what the latest progress was.
He replied, “I just invested in a drama. Just a fling. The director and screenwriter are right here—I’ll go say hi in a bit.”
Fang Ruan immediately understood—this guy was one of the investors.
She quickly told the caller, “Something came up, I’ll get back to you,” and rushed back to the private room.
She hadn’t even had a chance to warn Chen Die before that man from outside walked in right behind her.
Fan Zhen and the screenwriter immediately stood up with big smiles and greeted him: “Mr. Qu, welcome!” They turned to introduce him to Chen Die. “This is Mr. Qu, one of the investors in our drama.”
Chen Die stood and shook his hand—but just as she was about to pull away, she felt his thumb deliberately rub across her palm.
“I’ve heard so much about you. Seeing you in person—Ms. Chen, you’re even more beautiful than the rumors,” Mr. Qu said with a grin.
Chen Die responded coolly, “Thank you.”
Then she turned slightly to exchange a glance with Fang Ruan—and instantly, they both understood.
During the second half of the dinner, Chen Die could clearly feel that Mr. Qu was trying to get her drunk. Though his face was all smiles, he wasn’t holding back at all when it came to pouring alcohol.
Chen Die was still new to the entertainment industry, and Fang Ruan had warned her many times not to let early success get to her head. In this business, connections and opportunity mattered just as much as talent.
Not wanting to create a scene, Chen Die accepted the drinks Mr. Qu offered and played along politely.
But the more she drank, the more inappropriate Mr. Qu became.
He pushed Fan Zhen aside and sat down next to her. After a few more drinks, he kept scooting closer until his thigh was pressed against hers, and he even casually draped one arm over the back of her chair.
Chen Die held back as long as she could—until Mr. Qu let out a loud beer burp right next to her. That was the last straw.
Fang Ruan had been just about to find an excuse to get Chen Die out of there; any more drinks and the situation would be out of control.
But just then, Chen Die suddenly sat up straight, propped her chin on one hand, and slowly turned her head to look at Mr. Qu.
Her eyes were striking—captivating even with a single glance.
Even Fang Ruan’s heart skipped a beat from the intensity of that look, let alone Mr. Qu, who was the true target.
Drinks flowing, a beautiful woman at his side.
And this beauty was not only charming but also seemed to understand how to flirt just right. When her gaze locked onto him, Mr. Qu practically melted in his seat.
“Mr. Qu,” Chen Die said softly as she poured him another drink, “what’s the fun in just drinking? Let’s play a little game.”
Delighted, Mr. Qu thought to himself, This woman really knows how to please a man. He laughed heartily and asked, “What game do you want to play?”
She raised an eyebrow slightly, her eyes sultry. “Dice?”
He hadn’t expected that. But at this point, with Chen Die teasing him like this, he would’ve agreed to anything. He nodded eagerly, saying, “Sure, sure! Let’s play! Ask the waiter to bring in the dice. Don’t say I’m bullying you later.”
“How could I?” Chen Die smiled sweetly, resting her chin in her hand and gazing at him admiringly. “I’m all for honoring the terms of a bet.”
The phrase ‘honoring the bet’ carried a subtle, provocative meaning.
Mr. Qu felt like his blood was about to boil over from how she was playing him.
Fang Ruan watched the whole thing in stunned silence, goosebumps prickling down her arms from Chen Die’s wildly uncharacteristic behavior.
She’d always known Chen Die had a strong backbone. She wasn’t the type to silently endure mistreatment or beg for help—just like how she’d once slapped Wang Yunxi and demanded justice herself.
This entire performance was giving Fang Ruan one clear message—
Chen Die was about to make a move!
At 10 PM that night, Wen Liang walked into a business event.
He’d been extremely busy lately. Wen Huaiyuan’s health had taken a turn, so Wen Liang had made his usual visit to the hospital—but since there was little affection between father and son, it felt more like a chore than concern. On top of that, the Dongcheng project required constant attention to detail.
And yet, Chen Die kept slipping into his mind.
He didn’t know how to reach out. She’d blocked him everywhere. He’d even tried visiting her at a Gourmet Food Plaza, but to no avail.
It was the first time Chen Die had taken such a hard stance with him.
After a few rounds of drinks and dishes…
Zhu Qicong stepped into the room and bent down to whisper in Wen Liang’s ear: “Mr. Wen, Miss Chen is currently at Yif Pavilion. Mr. Qu is there too.”
Wen Liang turned his head slightly and frowned. “What’s Qu Fang doing there?”
“Miss Chen was meeting a director today to discuss a new project. Qu Fang is one of the investors.”
Qu Fang’s father had once been one of the founding members of Wenyuan Group. But last summer, Wen Liang had used some less-than-noble methods to acquire all of his shares, finally securing full control of the company.
Still, even a dying camel is bigger than a horse. Wen Liang hadn’t completely ruined the Qu family; they still received dividends. But the youngest son, Qu Fang, was a known playboy and troublemaker.
Wen Liang lowered his eyes and told Zhu Qicong, “Send someone over to keep an eye on the situation.”
Then he stood and politely excused himself from the table. Someone asked, “Mr. Wen, what’s the hurry?”
He replied calmly, “Family matter.”
Meanwhile, back at Yif Pavilion, the private room was in full swing.
Well—one person was, anyway. Mr. Qu was completely drunk.
Fang Ruan genuinely didn’t know what other hidden talents this little actress of hers had.
Just a few flirtatious glances and a sweet voice, and Chen Die had Qu Fang wrapped around her finger, rolling dice with her like an eager puppy.
She had only graduated college six months ago, and most of that time had been spent on set. Who would've guessed she was also a natural at dice games?
Her long, elegant fingers handled the dice cup with practiced ease, even adding a bit of flair to it.
With a few crisp shakes—click clack—she didn’t even need to open it to guess what was inside.
It wasn’t long before she had Qu Fang completely plastered.
Fang Ruan honestly started to wonder—was there a part of Chen Die’s past she didn’t know about?
“Mr. Qu, you are not lucky.”
Chen Die’s hand was covering the dice cup as she rested her chin on the back of her hand, smiling sweetly at Qu Fang. Her black hair slipped down over her shoulder. “Looks like it’s your turn to drink again.”
“I can’t... really, I can’t anymore.” Qu Fang waved his hands frantically. “I’ve already had eight bottles, and you’ve only had two glasses. Any more and I’ll puke.”
“How can a man like Mr. Qu go back on his word?” Chen Die gently lifted the glass and held it up to his lips.
Her voice was soft, and her body seemed to have no bones, swaying ever so slightly. Qu Fang had long since been entranced. With the glass barely touching his lips, he downed it in one gulp again.
“Let’s go again.” Chen Die shook the dice cup once more.
But this time, before Qu Fang even finished shaking his cup, he suddenly stood up, clutching his mouth, and bolted into the restroom. The sound of violent vomiting soon followed.
Chen Die’s delicate and flirtatious demeanor vanished in an instant.
She casually wiped her hands with a towel, stood up, and politely said goodbye to the screenwriter and director, then left the room with Fang Ruan.
Fang Ruan was thoroughly impressed.
Other women used flirting to fish for money—Chen Die’s kind of flirting could get people killed.
“Hey, hey, hey—” Fang Ruan jogged to catch up. “When did you learn to play dice? That was amazing.”
Chen Die thought for a moment. “Learned it in college.”
“You know you looked like the god of gambling just now? You could tell what the numbers were just by the sound? I always thought that was a myth.” Fang Ruan was full of admiration.
“It’s not that accurate. I can only make an educated guess.”
“Who taught you?”
Chen Die paused for a second, then continued walking.
Who taught her?
Naturally—it was Wen Liang.
Many of her skills when it came to food, drink, and games were things Wen Liang had taught her back in the day.
Before she could answer, there was suddenly a commotion behind them.
Qu Fang, having finished throwing up in the bathroom, came out to find that the pretty girl had disappeared. He staggered out after her, drunk out of his mind, half held up by Fan Zhen.
As he stumbled over, he slurred loudly, “My little butterfly, why’d you sneak off all by yourself?”
The nickname made Chen Die feel sick. She frowned in disgust.
Fang Ruan immediately pulled her behind her. “Mr. Qu, Chen Die has work tomorrow. We really need to head back now.”
“But tomorrow’s work, not tonight’s.” Qu Fang was completely wasted. He raised his arms to try and grab Chen Die. “I’ll take you there myself tomorrow morning.”
The implication in his words was crystal clear.
Chen Die stepped back to avoid him. “Mr. Qu, we’re in public. Please have some self-respect.”
“What’s this now? Weren’t we having a good time in there just a moment ago?” Drunk and aggressive, Qu Fang grabbed Chen Die’s wrist and yanked her toward him.
He thought she was just playing hard to get.
His grip on her wrist was painfully tight. Chen Die was just about to smash her purse into his face when she saw a familiar car speeding toward them.
“Leave now.” Chen Die slapped Qu Fang’s arm twice. “Hurry and go!”
“I’m not leaving.” Qu Fang still had that sleazy grin on his face. He leaned in close to her ear. “If anyone’s leaving, it’s you—with me.”
Before he could finish the sentence, Wen Liang stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut with force.
Chen Die’s heart skipped a beat. “Wen Liang!”
But he ignored her completely, striding over with cold determination. He grabbed Qu Fang by the shoulder and pulled him away from her without saying a word—then threw a solid punch right into his face.
Qu Fang let out a wail, fell to the ground, and suddenly started coughing violently, almost choking. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the pavement.
“Holy shit…”
Looking down at the blood and spit on the ground, Qu Fang finally sobered up a bit. Swearing under his breath, he tried to push himself up on shaky elbows.
Wen Liang grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to his feet.
He looked down with an expression of pure fury, his eyes emotionless, fingers clenched so tightly they were white. “Look closely—do you know who I am? You think you’re worthy of touching someone of mine?”
Qu Fang blinked blearily and froze in shock the moment he recognized him.
Wen Liang didn’t hesitate—he slammed him against the side of the car.
Qu Fang’s spine hit the frame with a sickening thud, sending a wave of numbness through his whole body. He couldn’t even move. Stammering, he tried to apologize. “I-I didn’t know, I swear! I wouldn’t dare touch anyone of yours, Mr. Wen, not even with ten lives to spare!”
A small crowd had begun to gather, murmuring among themselves.
Several people recognized Wen Liang, but seeing how things were unfolding, none of them dared to intervene.
Wen Liang stood there coldly for a long moment before finally letting go and shaking out his wrist.
Zhu Qicong, having spent plenty of time with him, remained completely calm in the face of the chaos. “Mr. Wen, I’ll take care of the rest.”
Wen Liang turned his head, his eyes cold as he looked at Chen Die. The anger between his brows had yet to subside.
He strode forward, grabbed her wrist, and started pulling her away.
“Wen Liang! Let go of me!”
Chen Die wasn’t strong enough to resist. Her hand slipped from his grip, and she was dragged along by him.
Fang Ruan was stunned and rushed to follow, but Zhu Qicong stepped in to block her.
“What are you doing?!” she glared at him.
“Apologies, Mr. Wen needs to speak with Miss Chen. If you’re heading out, I can escort you back,” Zhu Qicong said calmly.
Wen Liang dragged Chen Die all the way out to the parking lot.
Beside the road was a construction site, the area cordoned off, with barely any cars passing through.
A cold wind swept by, dissolving the earlier tension in the air.
Chen Die finally shook free of his hand, glaring at him. “What the hell do you want?!”
The image of Qu Fang’s hands on her still made Wen Liang feel sick. He didn’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened if he hadn’t shown up tonight.
He was so furious he could barely contain it. His eyes locked on hers, cold and biting.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Wen Liang said, voice low. “Have you sunk so low you’re out there drinking with men now?”
“Why the hell do you care?!”
Wen Liang gripped her shoulders and shoved her back against the car, lifting her chin with both hands. “Chen Die, speak to me properly.”
“Don’t touch me.” Chen Die struggled wildly, clawing and scratching at him when she couldn’t break free.
She only stopped when she felt her nails dig into his skin. A long, angry red scratch stretched across Wen Liang’s neck, blood welling up at the surface.
“You won’t let me touch you, but you’ll let Qu Fang?” He didn’t even react to the bleeding, his face stormy. “If you’re going to bait someone, at least use your damn brain. Do you even know what kind of place that was? You really want people to think you’re stupid and easy?” The words spilled out in his rage, unchecked.
Chen Die was livid. “So what if they do? It’s none of your business! I was so brainless, why didn’t you just sit back and watch me get taken away, huh?!”
Wen Liang let out a low, cold laugh. “You think I won’t take you right here?”
Chen Die stared at him in disbelief.
His eyes were dark, nearly feral with rage.
She tried to say something, but as soon as her lips moved, Wen Liang pressed his palm against her neck and shoved her back against the car, clearly not wanting to hear another word.
The street was quiet. No cars passed by.
A moment later, he leaned down, aiming to kiss her.
With her back against the car door and nowhere to go, Chen Die, furious and desperate, raised her hand and slapped him across the face.
SMACK.
Wen Liang’s head jerked to the side. A five-finger mark bloomed on his cheek.
The air went still—thick, silent, frozen.
Neither of them spoke for a long time. Chen Die tightened her coat around her and walked a few steps away, out of his reach. Her chest heaved with emotion.
A dim streetlamp nearby cast a hazy glow across Wen Liang’s turned face, highlighting his sharp features in shadow and light.
Chen Die gradually calmed down.
She suddenly remembered they were still outside—and right now, she was under public scrutiny. So many people were just waiting for her to slip.
She glanced around—thankfully, no one seemed to be nearby—then looked back at Wen Liang.
He was still standing in the same position, head tilted where the slap had left it. After a long moment, he tongued the inside of his cheek and let out a bitter laugh, then slowly turned to look at her.
This was the first time the two of them had fought like this.
And now, after the storm, came the eerie calm.
Wen Liang had sobered up. He let out a short laugh, took a few steps back, crossed his arms, and leaned against the car. His eyelids drooped slightly as he looked at her.
Chen Die exhaled softly and brushed her hair back behind her ears.
She was wearing a coat, cinched at the waist, red lips and bright eyes—the kind of woman who exuded allure with the simplest gesture. “Mr. Wen, I believe we’ve already broken up a long time ago.”
Wen Liang stared at her.
That slap seemed to have cleared some of the haze in his mind—but oddly, Chen Die felt like there were even more emotions swirling in his eyes now.
He licked his lips, tilted his head with a faint, mocking smile—unclear if the ridicule was aimed at her or himself. “The little leopard I raised turned out to have some claws after all.”
Chen Die looked at him with indifference, saying nothing.
But that look brought a flood of memories back for Wen Liang.
The night he first brought her home. The way they’d watched the stars rise together.
The times she tried to cry in front of him but didn’t dare. Her vivid little expressions—every joy, anger, sorrow.
Even how, in bed, she’d bite her lip to hold in every sound, letting out the tiniest kitten-like whimpers.
Suddenly, the alcohol hit him harder. His emotions surged beyond control.
He couldn’t stand the way she looked at him now—so distant, so detached.
His fingers twitched at his side. Then slowly, he lifted his hand, stepped forward, and without regard for her resistance, pulled her into his arms.
He thought back to the cruel thing he’d said earlier—
You just want people to think you’re dumb and easy, huh?
His chin rested on her shoulder. Somehow, his eyes burned.
“Be good, Lingling. Come with me,” he whispered.
He sounded drunk.
Or maybe... he had finally given in.
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