Chapter 44: The Great Sage Comes of Age

She wasn’t sure if her suggestion had anything to do with it, but perhaps Xiao Jingxuan really was considering shooting a drama. As a result, the ending of the MV, originally set in stone, underwent significant changes. It became open-ended, leaving the audience uncertain whether the story was a tragedy or a comedy. Still, this did nothing to diminish the beauty and allure of the narrative.

After all, the song itself was the true protagonist of the MV; the visuals were merely a supporting role, meant to warm the eyes as the ears indulged in a feast. The storyline didn’t need to be too logical or explicit.

Moreover, only the performers themselves understood clearly—the main characters were the Demon Plum and the Immortal, along with some background and cause-and-effect. For the audience, though, such intricacies would likely go unnoticed. After all, an MV relies entirely on expressions and body language, with not a word of dialogue. If viewers could even vaguely discern a main storyline, that was already quite impressive.

As for the related drama project, Chu Luoxi hadn’t given it much thought. Not to mention that a drama without a script would take ages to prepare, Xiao Jingxuan’s schedule was certainly packed. It seemed these years were the explosive period of his career, with work lined up perhaps a year or two in advance. How could anyone simply squeeze themselves in?

Besides, even though she had helped with the MV, the drama didn’t necessarily require her involvement. Plans, after all, could change in an instant.

So Chu Luoxi truly didn’t take it to heart, and was ready to part ways after finishing this meal.

The MV had been filmed over two days, and today was Monday—she hadn’t gone to class and needed to hurry back.

“Later, give Cold Road your bank card number so he can transfer the money,” Xiao Jingxuan said quietly as they ate, his tone mysterious and intriguing.

“Huh, payment for labor?” Chu Luoxi was surprised. She hadn’t expected any salary, thinking she was just lending a hand for free.

“Did you really think I’d have you work for nothing?” Xiao Jingxuan looked at her oddly, his eyes dark as the night sky. “Don’t worry, the budget was made long ago. It’s no trouble at all.”

Chu Luoxi was silent. He truly was a master; even Scenic Entertainment belonged solely to him. This was hardly a significant sum for him. As a newcomer, even with their fellow apprentice connection, anything over ten thousand was already generous—a mere drop in the bucket.

“Oh, I told my class advisor it was volunteer work, turns out I’m actually getting paid.” Chu Luoxi sighed, a bit melancholy. She’d have to explain again, and then go through a whole series of procedures—it was honestly a headache.

“Then just don’t tell them.” Xiao Jingxuan’s words were so startling, they sounded as casual as asking if she’d eaten.

Chu Luoxi’s eyes widened as if struck by lightning. “What did you say?” She must have misheard; how could the great Xiao say such a thing?

With a meaningful smile, Xiao Jingxuan showed no concern for his image. “Since you told them it was unpaid, then let it be. Some things are best kept between you, me, and Cold Road. That way, you won’t have to hand over half your earnings, and if anyone investigates, we can cover for you. It’s not complicated.”

Mouth agape, Chu Luoxi felt she hadn’t been so shocked since her rebirth. It wasn’t that she wanted to be the model student, sacrificing half her hard-earned wages for peace of mind. Was she really so foolish, so naive, so saintly? It was simply the unexpectedness of Xiao Jingxuan’s response.

For some reason, seeing this side of him, Chu Luoxi suddenly felt he was just a person—no longer the lofty, unattainable, perfect idol of her memories. He could be sly, cut corners, and act, well, a bit roguish. Though the word sounded harsh, it was the only way she could describe him. This Xiao Jingxuan, she found, was full of warmth and humanity.

Of course, it wasn’t just because he was helping her keep half her wages, but because for the first time she saw him so genuinely human. She felt the urge to cover her face. Over the past days, her idol had steadily become less idealized, yet the sense of distance remained. Now, she felt deeply that she was facing a living, breathing person.

Such a transformation was not easy.

“Hey, aren’t you afraid of ruining your image in Junior Sister Chu’s eyes?” Cold Road asked, glancing back at Xiao Jingxuan after dropping Chu Luoxi at the school gate, unable to quell the burning curiosity in his heart.

“Image?” Xiao Jingxuan withdrew his gaze from watching Chu Luoxi enter the school, his brow arching with a hint of confusion. “Sometimes, an image that’s too lofty isn’t a good thing.”

He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but it seemed he always felt a mysterious, worshipful aura from Chu Luoxi’s perspective—an aura of towering perfection. He didn’t know how it had come about, but he knew one thing: he didn’t like it. Too much perfection meant distance. If they couldn’t break through that distance, they would forever be nothing more than slightly more familiar strangers.

He had finally met someone he could compete with. He didn’t want their relationship to remain so limited—what meaning would that have?

“Too lofty an image? What do you mean?” Cold Road was baffled, curiosity gnawing at him.

Watching his agent blink expectantly, Xiao Jingxuan’s lips curled in silent amusement, a hint of seductive mischief about him. “You want to know?”

“Yes, yes!” Cold Road was oblivious, his face practically shouting, “Tell me, quick!” as he waited for an answer.

“You really want to know?” Xiao Jingxuan tilted his head, catching sight of Cold Road nodding again, his brows suddenly arching. “Well, I won’t tell you. You’ll have to guess for yourself!”

Cold Road was instantly thrown into chaos, nearly losing his composure. Thankfully, he wasn’t driving, or he’d likely have caused a traffic accident.

As for the driver, with the cool demeanor of a professional bodyguard, his endurance seemed almost supernatural. At least, he kept the car steady, though one had to overlook the slight tremor in his muscles and the twitching fingers on the steering wheel.

Chu Luoxi knew nothing of this episode. If she had, she’d have been equally flustered. Having Xiao Jingxuan’s approval, she wouldn’t do anything foolish to jeopardize it. She’d treat it as unpaid work.

If others didn’t play along, it couldn’t be helped. If everyone had such an opportunity, they’d probably guard it even more fiercely. Who would willingly have half their income taken away? Unless the job was given by the school, perhaps. At least agencies invested in various ways—even if it was just using their connections.

When she returned to her dormitory, it was empty. Chu Luoxi settled in, opened her laptop, and immediately sought out White Cloud, the great master. Though they hadn’t met in real life, they already considered each other confidants. Without a few daily banters, she couldn’t sleep, always needing a bit of mischief to feel content.