Delicate Beauty in the Palm : Chapter 9 - Double Standard
Chapter 9: Double Standard
A week later, Chen Die received a call informing her that she had passed the audition for the female lead in ‘Hairpin Flowers’.
When she picked up the phone, the sun was already high in the sky. She had just gotten out of bed and was washing up in the bathroom. With wet hands, she answered the call, and the first thing she heard was the announcement.
She was stunned for a full three minutes before finally processing it. By then, the caller had already hung up.
She actually got the role.
Although both her mentor and Lu Chuan had told her she had a strong chance, securing the role for real was an entirely different feeling.
She felt… a little overwhelmed.
After changing into a simple white T-shirt and jeans, she headed downstairs. Aunt Zhang had just finished preparing lunch and was setting it on the table. When she looked up and saw Chen Die coming down, she said, “I was just about to call you for lunch.”
“Mm, I accidentally overslept today.” Chen Die tied her long hair into a high ponytail, revealing her slender neck, and sat at the table.
Aunt Zhang observed her and smiled. “Miss, you seem to be in an especially good mood today.”
Chen Die curved her lips. “Mm.”
“Young Master even specifically told me to cook more of your favorite dishes for lunch today. He said you’re too thin,” Aunt Zhang added.
The hand holding her chopsticks paused.
Hearing something like that now felt completely different.
Becoming independent, starting her own career—this was the first step in saying goodbye to Wen Liang.
The year she finished her college entrance exams, she signed a contract with Wen Liang. This arrangement had lasted until she graduated from university, and now, that time had quietly come to an end.
She ate just a little before heading out. Instead of having the driver take her, she took a taxi to the subway station, then rode the subway to the production company’s building.
Jiayu Productions was a well-established film company. In recent years, many of its films had achieved both critical and commercial success. To receive an opportunity from such a company right after graduation was no small feat.
Taking a deep breath, Chen Die walked into Jiayu’s building.
The receptionist took the business card she handed over and quickly put on a professional smile. “Please follow me.”
Thanks to the card from Feng Zhi, she encountered no obstacles along the way.
The receptionist led her to the executive office, where a meticulously made-up woman in a light gray suit sat. “Chen Die?”
“Yes.”
An assistant came in and placed two cups of tea on the table.
“Are you currently signed with an agency?” the executive director asked.
“Not yet.”
“No wonder you came alone today. In this industry, it’s rare to go solo without signing with an agency,” she commented while sipping her tea. “But once this film is out, you’ll have plenty of offers.”
The executive director was efficient and wasted no words. Soon, she pulled a contract from the printer behind her and placed it in front of Chen Die.
“This is our standard contract for new actors,” she said. “Take a look and see if it works for you.”
Chen Die hummed in acknowledgment.
She had been younger once. Back in her freshman year, when Wen Liang was just starting to take charge of Wenyuan Group, she had seen him handle contracts in his villa in the western suburbs.
At the time, she had liked Wen Liang very, very much. She had been filled with the admiration and infatuation of a young girl, and as their relationship became more ambiguous, she had been overjoyed.
She had obediently sat beside him, leaning over to look at the documents.
Wen Liang had grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back. “Do you even understand what you’re looking at?”
“What’s so hard to understand?!” she had huffed, indignant at being underestimated.
He had chuckled, then pulled her onto his lap, not caring about the confidentiality of the contract. “Alright then, tell me—does this contract look fair?”
Chen Die had studied it seriously and found nothing wrong. “It looks reasonable to me.”
Wen Liang had scoffed. “Go play somewhere else.”
“It’s not reasonable?”
For once, he had been patient. With one arm around her, he had explained the ten or so traps hidden in the contract. Then, he had said, “People like you are the reason they say, ‘Some folks would count the money for the very people selling them off.’”
Later, she had pestered him to teach her how to read contracts. She had nagged him for days before finally drafting the contract that would last until her graduation.
Eighteen-year-old Chen Die had taken the knowledge she had just learned and drafted a contract of her own, filled with the naive arrogance of a teenage girl.
Wen Liang had never lacked women, so the clause stipulating that she would maintain a romantic relationship with him for four years had struck him as utterly ridiculous.
At the time, he had assumed it was just a bored kid making a fuss after finishing her exams. He had dismissed her with a “You never take anything seriously” and had signed it without a second glance.
He hadn't known.
Back then, Chen Die hadn't been planning ahead for her eventual independence.
She had simply wanted to use the only method she could think of—ink on paper—to tie Wen Liang to her side, even if only for four years.
She had believed that maybe, in four years, he would truly fall for her.
But Wen Liang was arrogant, rebellious, and untamed. There was nothing in this world that could restrain him. Instead, it was she who had lost herself.
Wen Liang, Wen Liang—always Wen Liang.
Chen Die shook her head hard, forcing herself to focus on the contract.
It wasn’t completely fair, of course. The company was still looking out for its own interests, and some clauses were tilted in their favor. But after carefully reviewing it, she determined that the terms were within her acceptable range.
So, she quickly signed her name.
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit private booth at a bar, a man sat with one foot propped on the coffee table, smoke swirling thickly around him.
Everyone could tell that Wen Liang was in a bad mood.
A very bad mood—he looked like he might jump up and punch someone at any second.
Only Xiao Shi, who was relatively close to him, had some idea of why.
It was just bad luck. Wen Liang and his wealthy younger brother happened to share the same birthday. That afternoon, he had received a call from the old man at home, telling him to come back the next day to celebrate Wen Qian’s 18th birthday and coming-of-age ceremony.
Anyone would be pissed after hearing that.
No one dared to provoke him at a time like this. They kept their voices low, chatting about meaningless topics.
As usual, there were a few beautiful women in the room. One of them, sitting in the corner, had been watching him for a while. After a moment, she got up and made her way through the crowd to sit beside Wen Liang.
The others exchanged glances.
This girl had guts, walking straight into the line of fire.
Fu Sheng poured him a drink and leaned in, her voice soft and sultry. “Why isn’t President Wen drinking?”
Her voice was like honey, enough to make most men weak.
But Wen Liang just frowned impatiently and glanced at her. “Who the hell are you?”
He never cared about saving face for anyone.
Fu Sheng froze, not expecting that he wouldn’t even remember her. She bit her lip, still keeping up her delicate act. “A few days ago, at the Internet conference—I was the one accompanying you.”
Wen Liang remembered now. The same day he saw Chen Die step out of the elevator with some man and later ended up bailing her out of the police station.
His face darkened as he turned away, slouching lazily, smoking more aggressively.
Fu Sheng had heard the rumors about Wen Liang’s temperament and didn’t dare say another word.
But she had to admit—when it came to men, Wen Liang was dangerously attractive.
Wild, arrogant, like he ruled the world. He made people want to dig deeper, to see what he was like when he finally lost control.
When Wen Liang stood up to leave, another man beside him asked where he was going. Wen Liang didn’t look back, just waved a hand dismissively and kept walking.
Fu Sheng hesitated for a couple of seconds, then followed.
When Wen Liang came out of the restroom, he saw her waiting outside. She had had quite a bit to drink, her gaze sultry, filled with unspoken meaning.
“President Wen,” she called softly.
Wen Liang gave her a quick glance.
“Are you heading back now?” Fu Sheng noticed he had taken his pack of cigarettes with him. “Let me see you out.”
“Get lost.”
He didn’t spare her a shred of dignity. Fu Sheng was left speechless, watching him head toward the door.
Suddenly, she thought of that woman she had seen at the mansion—the one Wen Liang had yanked out of the elevator.
Maybe, she thought, for a man like Wen Liang, the more defiant a woman was, the more he liked her.
So she rushed forward again and wrapped herself around his arm.
Before she could even say a word, Wen Liang shoved her hard against the wall.
He had been drinking, his usually sharp features slightly softened, making him look both seductive and dangerous.
Fu Sheng’s shoulder throbbed with pain. Before she could recover, Wen Liang grabbed her hair and yanked her head downward. Her scalp stung as she was forced to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze.
“You want me to sleep with you?”
His words were crude, downright savage. Fu Sheng’s face flushed, her heart racing, throat dry—she couldn’t even respond.
“You’ve seen her, haven’t you?” he asked.
Fu Sheng paused, thinking of that woman.
Wen Liang had drunk quite a bit. His gaze was unfocused as he lazily looked her over/
He pulled her hair lower with every passing second. Fu Sheng's head tilted back in response, her breath unsteady.
He sneered. “So why the hell would I sleep with someone like you?”
Straightening up, he looked completely uninterested, not even sparing her another glance. “Get lost.”
Fu Sheng’s eyes turned red from frustration.
Her beauty had always been an advantage, something that brought her endless benefits. This was the first time a man had humiliated her like this.
She went to the restroom to wash her face, then decided she had no interest in returning to the private room. Grabbing her bag, she headed out.
Just as she stepped outside, she saw Wen Liang standing nearby.
He hadn’t left yet. He was leaning lazily against the wall, eyes lowered, making a phone call.
Fu Sheng overheard his voice—
“Where are you right now?” His tone was relaxed, a little teasing.
She couldn’t help sneaking another glance at him.
Then she heard him chuckle. “I’ll come pick you up.”
His laughter was deep, rich, with a lazy rasp that sent shivers down her spine. Completely different from the way he had spoken to her just moments ago.
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