Chapter 15

“……”
Fang Xu and Song Zhiqing blanked at the sudden counter.
---
Fang Xu straightened. Slammed his cup down. “Bai Xu—what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Boss—don’t take it wrong.”
Bai Xu light. Eyes on Song Zhiqing. “I just think I’m not good enough. If the slot’s that precious—and lifts the studio’s name—Master Song should lead the team.”
Sincere gaze. Polite and tame. Like the cold mockery had been their imagination.
Song Zhiqing remembered Bai Xu’s old behavior. Settled. “These old bones near retirement won’t join the fun. Boss Fang values you—I believe in you too.”
Bai Xu followed the thread. “Then the entry goes under my name?”
“……”
Song’s smile thinned.
Fang Xu clicked his tongue. Corporate pie. “Bai Xu—where’s the design draft? Not your problem to worry about!”
“Too young and too visible—you get hurt. Grind behind the scenes. Fame comes later.”
Bai Xu heard the subtext. Pushed again. “So my original work—can’t carry my name?”
“Whose name matters that much? I’m giving you a chance—not saying you’re ready. You’re our studio’s ceramic designer—you represent all of us!”
Fang Xu black face again. Final word. “Safe play—same as before. Studio name on the entry. Song leads—credit under his guidance.”
Cold flash in Bai Xu’s eyes. “Same as before?”
Never answering straight—pressure stacked—design on his back—name erased at the end. What was that but theft?
Open steal under boss and mentor titles.
“Bai Xu.”
Song used his full name. Rare gravity broke the silence. “Forget what I told you in school?”
“Ceramics isn’t about chasing fame. Think that way—change careers! This field has more talent than you. Don’t say you’re my student. I won’t claim you.”
All hammer blows.
Song saw no reply. Built his authority. “Worst case—if I didn’t value you, I wouldn’t speak for you today. I’ve got countless works—I don’t need one more lead credit.”
Sounded better than song.
Bai Xu stared at their rat-nest faces. Wanted to rip the mask now.
Not yet. Against “famous” types—you hit once where it hurts. No comeback.
“……”
Bai Xu hid the real heat. Showed deliberate soft. “Master Song—you misunderstood. I—I didn’t mean anything. Draft’s in final polish. I’ll submit before deadline. Won’t delay.”
Familiar gentle tone in their ears. Fang and Song traded looks. Quiet relief.
Fang Xu first. “Bai Xu—Master Song means well. As boss—I value you too. Rare chance. Think it through.”
Slap then candy.
Bai Xu saw through. Didn’t say. Lips pressed. “I’ll go prep. Anything—I’ll sync with Sister Qiu.”
Song always thought Bai Xu was soft—easy squeeze. No suspicion.
Nodded. Teacher mode. “Questions—find me anytime.”
Bai Xu’s nod lazy. Turned out—soft mask torn off in one beat. Eyes cold.
Tap tap tap.
Stairs—
Qiu Yi bolted from her solo studio. Hands clay-stained—eyes only, steering him to a corner.
Qiu Yi glanced at the meeting room upstairs. Low. “Done? Boss give you trouble?”
Qiu Yi saw through Fang Xu’s fake manners. Still stayed—
Early hire. Client base here.
Fang Xu hadn’t eyed her work yet.
Bai Xu usually silent—but Qiu Yi guessed the squeeze. He never spoke—she couldn’t step in.
Bai Xu looked upstairs. Plan forming. “Sister Qiu—I do need your help.”
“……”
Something off in his serious face. Still— “Sure. Say it.”
…
Knock knock.
Xie Qi in the master suite lounge looked up. “Mr. Bai—you’re back?”
Bai Xu glanced at Yanxiao on the bed. Looked back. “Xie Qi—mind if I borrow your laptop?”
“Of course.”
Xie Qi bent. Closed his work screen. Handed it over.
Bai Xu from memory—opened a private ceramic forum. Username. Password.
Xie Qi and Chen Yufei traded looks—
Xie Qi mouthed: What?
Chen Yufei shrugged—no idea.
Fast—pages of drafts, photos, videos. All private-only.
Bai Xu at the neat archive. Corner smile.
---
Original always knew what Fang and Song did. Trapped—no money to fight. Still fought quiet for his work.
Like this.
Every concept sketch, photo, video—uploaded, timestamped. Some even had copyright filings started.
Xie Qi at the screen. Back to the file. “Mr. Bai—these are your pieces?”
“Sort of. Xie Qi—two favors.”
Bai Xu wasn’t stealing the original’s art—wanted to win more back for him.
Xie Qi nodded. “Go.”
Bai Xu opened the latest full design from a month and a half ago. “File copyright on this. Compress the timeline as much as you can.”
Usually a month to half a year.
“If it’s design docs—” Xie Qi studied the screen. “Pro IP lawyer. Expedited copyright channel—might shorten it?”
“Yeah. Need a real lawyer.”
Bai Xu agreed. “Also—I’m suing Pot Mirror Studio for long-term theft of my originals. No proper pay.”
Contract signed—but Fang skimmed fees and commission. Original asked for fair pay—excuses every time.
Xie Qi brow up. “Okay. I’ll find a lawyer and connect you.”
Bai Xu nodded. “Thanks.”
He could quit. Walk away. Skip the mess. Bai Xu couldn’t—
Ceramics was the only thing the original loved and fought for. Leave a trace. Win a little justice. Anything.
This finished draft—not handed to the studio—he’d enter under the original’s name.
Thoughts gathered. Eyes on Yanxiao in bed. For some reason last night’s heat—from fingertips to whole body—floated back.
“Yanxiao he—”
Bai Xu almost bit his tongue. “Still no sign of waking? Why does he look… fine?”
Nothing like a long-term vegetable.
“Right? Weird.”
Xie Qi—solid actor. “Dr. Zhang brought the team this afternoon. All vitals normal. Some response to outside stimulus. Just won’t ‘wake.’”
“……”
“Maybe more time.” Xie Qi pushed glasses. Worry plus certainty. “Third Young Master’s tough. He’ll wake.”
Bai Xu remembered last night’s “too far” test. Doubt gone. “Mm. Wait then.”
He transmigrated—what couldn’t he believe?
Paper side character—medical miracle later, normal. Coma beauty mode—also normal.
Bai Xu looked away. “I’ll eat downstairs. You two work.”
“Okay.”
Door shut again.
Chen Yufei and Xie Qi synced eyes. One locked the door. One took the laptop to the bed. “Third Young Master.”
Yanxiao opened slow. Short order. “Do what he asked. Dig deeper into that studio he mentioned. Help—but nothing ties back to the Shang family or Group.”
Sudden lawsuit—studio had to be dirty.
“Yes.” Xie Qi nodded. “Also—Third Young Master—”
“Uncle Lin says Fourth Young Master doesn’t want the Sun family dinner.”
Yanxiao sat up. Flat eyes. “Fine. Don’t force him. It was always a trap dinner.”
Shang–Jinbai deal dead—Dijing circles sniffing. Sun’s party was another probe at Third House’s real state.
Xie Qi hesitated. “If Fourth Young Master skips—gossip again?”
Yanxiao “down”—Third House’s face outside was all on Queyan now.
Yanxiao knew. Still—brother raised soft and free. Wouldn’t crush him.
Rubbed stiff shoulder from lying so long. Low. “Give Xiao Yan more time. Some things can’t rush. Also—that quiet asset liquidation I asked for—how’s it going?”
Xie Qi. “Almost done. Eight million consolidated next month.”
Yanxiao deep eyes. “Good.”
Main Shang line vs branch infighting—brutal. His “condition” kept him off the public stage.
Long game—out of familiar eyes—a fresh start was necessary.
…
Bai Xu down the stairs slow. Uncle Lin with an invite—about to put it in a drawer.
“Uncle Lin.”
Uncle Lin looked up. “Mr. Bai—you’re back?”
Bai Xu on the platinum-white card. “What’s this?”
Uncle Lin didn’t hide. Handed it over. “Sun family sent a dinner invite. Wants Third House to join.”
“……”
Sun family?
Why familiar?
Bai Xu opened it. Uncle Lin added, “Fourth Young Master doesn’t want to go.”
---
Dinners like that—rich kids his age. Queyan’s missing leg was fact. Whispers and barbs guaranteed.
Courage isn’t instant. Queyan staying home—reasonable.
Bai Xu got it. “Give him time. Some things can’t rush.”
“Yeah.”
Uncle Lin paused. Worry showing thin. “Sun family’s been hot these two years. Branch landing in Dijing next.”
“Invite’s right here—if Third House sends nobody—rumors bubble up again.”
“……”
Bai Xu stared at the name on the card—Sun Miaochun. Book memory clicked.
Closed the invite slow. Curiosity in his voice. “Then I’ll go for Third House.”