She had expected to wait several days,
but the reply had come much sooner than she imagined.
Vivian clicked the email, her pulse quickening—
“Congratulations. You have been hired.”
Her eyes widened.
She gasped—then squealed, springing to her feet.
Joy bubbled up inside her like sunlight breaking through a storm.
Sophie wasn’t around to share it with,
so without thinking, she grabbed her phone and dialed Simon Min’s number.
“Mr. Min! Guess what—I got the job!”
Simon was in Victor Wen’s office,
fingers tapping idly on the desk, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
The monitor before him still displayed the email he had just sent.
“Congratulations,” he said smoothly.
“You’re my lucky charm!” Vivian laughed.
“Everything seems to go right whenever I meet you.”
Simon’s voice softened, the warmth in it startling even himself.
“If you ever want to see me,” he said,
“you can always find me.
Even if you don’t accept me as your fiancé… at least consider me a friend.”
Vivian’s cheeks flushed pink.
“Mm.”
She hung up, her heart racing.
Across the desk, Victor was staring.
“Bro… did you just smile?
You’ve smiled three times in the last ten minutes. That’s more than you’ve smiled in ten years.”
Simon’s expression immediately cooled, the warmth vanishing.
“When Vivian joins the company, keep an eye on her. Report everything to me.”
Victor blinked.
“Why are you so interested in her?”
Simon leaned back, voice low and detached.
“To find out what she’s after.”
Victor smirked.
“There are faster ways. Kidnap her, question her—hell, with your methods, you’d have her confessing in ten minutes. Why go through all this trouble—”
Simon’s gaze snapped to him, razor-sharp and cold.
“You talk too much.”
Victor shut up instantly, shrinking into his chair.

A few days later, Vivian started work at Huasheng as an intern.
Once she graduated, she’d be full-time.
Her first assignment?
Meet and escort a new artist the company had just signed—a female performer going by the stage name Molly.
Vivian arrived at the airport early, holding a placard with “MOLLY” printed on it.
She even bought an iced coffee as a welcome gift.
She waited patiently near the arrivals gate—
until a tall woman in a fishtail dress and oversized sunglasses strutted toward her.
Something about that silhouette felt disturbingly familiar.
The woman stopped in front of her, lowered her shades—
and revealed a pair of sly, almond-shaped eyes.
“Vivian Wen? What are you doing here?”
Vivian blinked. The voice—shrill, sharp—
belonged unmistakably to Summer Wen, Helen Zhao’s daughter.
Summer had been the stepchild Helen brought into the Wen family, same age as Vivian.
After high school, she had studied elsewhere, rarely returning home.
But back then, she had competed with Vivian in everything—
clothes, attention, even their father’s affection.
Now, she was apparently a “new artist”?
“I’m here to pick someone up,” Vivian said evenly, not rising to the bait.
Summer’s gaze dropped to the sign in Vivian’s hands.
Then she burst out laughing.
“Don’t tell me—you’re here to pick up Molly?”
A sinking feeling formed in Vivian’s stomach.
“Yes,” she said cautiously. “Why?”
Summer’s grin widened.
“Because I’m Molly.”
Vivian froze.
It felt like swallowing something bitter and vile—
twice over.
Her stepsister—plastic surgery and all—was now a company artist?
Huasheng’s talent department must’ve been blind.
Still, this was work. She had no choice but to maintain her composure.
Vivian lowered the sign, glancing at the iced coffee she’d brought.
She almost laughed.
Might as well feed it to the dogs.
“Is that for me?”
Before she could respond, Summer snatched the cup from her hands—
and with a flick of her wrist, splashed the icy coffee down Vivian’s pale pink dress.
Then she let out a theatrical shriek.
“Vivian Wen! What did I ever do to you?
Why did you pour coffee all over me?!”
The airport went still.
Heads turned.
Vivian stared at her, stunned.
And for the first time, she realized—
some people could never change,
no matter how much makeup or money they wore.