Chapter 369: You’re Committing a Crime!

Chapter 369: You’re Committing a Crime!

Peng Wei was so angry he laughed.

In all his years in this business, he had met his share of people who opened with threats. But they had always been one of two types. Either they were young stars who had shot to fame overnight, green and clumsy, so inflated by their own success that they offended people without a second thought. Or they were people with foul tempers and reputations already in tatters, who had nothing left to fear from an exposé.

An Menglan clearly fit neither description.

The entertainment industry had an understanding: however big a name you were, you never, ever crossed the media. And above all, you never crossed the paparazzi.

Unless your background was so formidable that no one would dare publish a word about you without permission.

An Menglan clearly didn’t fit that description either.

The An family’s power lay in Xiangjiang. On the mainland, its reach was far weaker.

So Peng Wei was honestly baffled. Where had this hothead come from? Where had An Menglan dug him up? What did she even see in him? The man had no idea how things were done. Opening with threats like that could turn a perfectly negotiable matter into one that couldn’t be negotiated at all. Wasn’t he just asking for trouble?

“Boss Peng, I don’t want my photographs appearing in the media,” Wu Chen said again, with a faint smile. “I hope you understand.”

“Well, that’s not something I can promise.” A faint smile crept into Peng Wei’s tone as well. Then he shifted course. “Might I ask your surname, sir?”

“Wu. Wu Chen,” Wu Chen said plainly.

“Ah, Mr. Wu!” Peng Wei let out a pointedly theatrical laugh. “From the photos, Mr. Wu, you look rather young.”

“I didn’t call to chat,” Wu Chen said, smiling faintly. “I’ve said what I needed to say. Do as you see fit.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He hung up the moment he finished.

Modu. Nanhui District. Lüyuan Business Tower.

In an office on the twenty-second floor, Peng Wei stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, listening blankly to the busy signal.

Wu Chen had hung up on him. A few words, a warning, and then the line had gone dead.

No negotiation whatsoever. Just a warning, a click, and do as you see fit.

Peng Wei had never seen anyone operate like this.

Was the man really that arrogant?

Every time his studio landed a big scoop on a major star and the other side came calling, they were unfailingly polite. They always raised the subject themselves: how much would it cost to buy the photos back? A “death-wish” approach like this was genuinely a first. Wu Chen had actually managed to throw him.

Peng Wei stood at the window thinking for a good while. Then he went back to his desk, sat down, clicked his mouse, and pulled up the photographs he had just received.

It was mainly the man he was looking at.

The shots had been taken from a fair distance, but they could be enlarged, and Peng Wei could make out the man’s face perfectly well.

A handsome young man in a sharp suit and leather shoes.

Yet Peng Wei didn’t recognize him at all. He could be certain of that much: this young man called Wu Chen was no celebrity, no public figure of any kind.

Peng Wei was a cautious man. He knew there were people he couldn’t afford to cross. But the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Wu Chen wasn’t one of them.

He’d never even heard of him.

That age.

Surname Wu.

From Donghai?

Nothing.

The people Peng Wei genuinely couldn’t afford to offend were few and far between, and every one of them came from an illustrious family with a name everyone knew. So…

“Acting like a big shot. Trying to scare me, are you?” Peng Wei muttered, his lip curling. Then he picked up his phone again and dialed a number.

Donghai.

Jiazhong International Hotel, the presidential suite on the fifteenth floor.

“Mr. Wu, was that… Peng Wei of Wave Studio you just called?” An Menglan asked uncertainly.

From what she’d overheard, he had clearly been talking to someone at Wave Studio, and he’d addressed the man as “Boss Peng.” She could guess the rest.

She just couldn’t quite believe it. How on earth did Wu Chen have Peng Wei’s number?

Though if she really thought it through, it wasn’t so hard to imagine. There were any number of ways. Peng Wei’s number was hardly a state secret. Plenty of people had it.

“That’s right. Peng Wei.” Wu Chen looked at her, smiled, and nodded.

“That’s…” An Menglan’s expression shifted.

Liu Jing, her assistant, and A-Li, her bodyguard, who were also in the living room, were giving Wu Chen equally uneasy looks.

They had all sensed it. The way Wu Chen was handling this seemed… badly misjudged.

Normally, if An Menglan wanted to negotiate with Wave Studio and buy back the photographs, she would never contact Peng Wei directly. She would go through a middleman. The money would change hands through the middleman, and the photos would come back.

Threats were out of the question.

Crossing the paparazzi was one of the cardinal taboos of the industry.

“Mr. Wu… what are you… planning to do?” An Menglan looked as though she wanted to say more but couldn’t quite bring herself to. She could hardly blame him. He wasn’t in the industry. Of course he didn’t know how these things worked.

But he’d already threatened the man. What could they do now?

“Leave it for now. There’s no rush.” Wu Chen smiled, entirely unruffled.

“But…” An Menglan hesitated again and exchanged a glance with Liu Jing. They had both reached the same conclusion: Wu Chen really had no idea how any of this worked.

Still, he was one of the people involved. He had every right to handle his side of it however he chose. It wasn’t really their place to tell him otherwise.

“Mr. Wu, you may not know much about Wave… and besides…” An Menglan trailed off, then skipped ahead. “Why don’t I take care of this? I’ll have someone get in touch with Wave…”

“Are you confident you can get the photos back?” Wu Chen asked with a smile.

An Menglan fell silent and glanced at Liu Jing again.

Clearly, she wasn’t.

Had it been some small paparazzi outfit, or one without much backing, she would have been completely sure of herself. A few calls to the right people and it would have been settled.

But this was Wave Studio. The number-one paparazzi studio in the country.

“You’re not confident, are you, Miss An?” Wu Chen smiled. Her silence was answer enough. “I am. I have no intention of making the headlines, so I’ll handle this.”

For a moment, An Menglan genuinely didn’t know what to say.

If this had nothing to do with him, if he were merely offering to help, she could have objected.

But that wasn’t the case. Wu Chen wasn’t acting as if he were helping her at all. He was dealing with his own problem. She had no grounds whatsoever to stop him.

Knock, knock.

A sudden knock at the door. Then a girl’s voice from outside.

“Miss An, I’m here!”

Soft, gentle, and sweet. It was Song Xuan.

Last night, it had been Song Xuan’s phone call that roused the drunken An Menglan. She’d said she would come by, and now she finally had.

Before An Menglan could say anything, A-Li went over and opened the door.

Song Xuan stepped in and pulled off her mask. She looked otherworldly today: flawless makeup, jewelry, a diamond-studded handbag. She was meeting her idol again and plainly took it very seriously. She had obviously dressed with great care.

“Senior, you’re here too?” she exclaimed after only a few steps, catching sight of Wu Chen.

Wu Chen smiled and raised a hand in greeting.

Song Xuan came over and sat at the far end of the long sofa. When neither An Menglan nor Wu Chen spoke up, she glanced around, looking from one to the other. Naturally, she noticed the remains of breakfast on the coffee table. She noticed, too, that An Menglan hadn’t washed up or gotten dressed and was still in her nightgown…

Strange.

The atmosphere was strange too. Even Liu Jing and A-Li seemed off.

“What’s wrong?” Song Xuan blinked her large eyes and looked around the room, then turned to An Menglan. “Miss An, you look awful… Did something happen?”

An Menglan looked at her, pressed her lips together, and hesitated once more.

What could she say?

Any explanation would have to include the fact that Wu Chen had spent the night here. And Song Xuan had been at the dinner the night before last. She knew about the wager. That made it all the harder to say.

Ring, ring…

Wu Chen’s phone rang.

Every eye turned to him. Even Song Xuan’s head turned on instinct.

Wu Chen picked up the phone and glanced at the screen.

Peng Wei.

He was calling back.

“Hello, Boss Peng,” Wu Chen answered, smiling faintly.

“Where are my people? Where are they?” Peng Wei demanded the moment the call connected, his tone belligerent.

“Who?” Wu Chen raised an eyebrow.

“Who do you think? Don’t play dumb. None of their phones are getting through. They’ve gone dark!” Peng Wei’s voice dropped. “Mr. Wu, I’m warning you! This is kidnapping! You’re committing a crime!”