Chapter 9
“I’m… the boss of Zhuo Xiaohei Studio,” Zhuo Yifan added. His pause came from hiccuping while crying—very pitiful, not at all boss-like.
Dr. Long looked up at him, frowning, trying to recall. He had a vague memory. When he previously followed Fang Jing Yao’s Weibo, he remembered this account strongly supporting Fang Jing Yao. Busy with work, he only glanced once, noticing it was top-commented, reposted countless times, and had thousands of likes. They even offered terms for recruitment casually.
But seeing Zhuo Yifan’s attitude today, he realized they were serious.
Fang Jing Yao scolded him. “You run a studio with over a dozen people under you. Is openly clashing with the other side wise? Ever think about the consequences? Sun An and the others didn’t stop you either…”
Zhuo Yifan sniffled and muttered, “They tried… couldn’t stop me.”
Fang Jing Yao snapped, “Don’t you ever learn! Haven’t you forgotten about getting your account banned last time? How old are you? You’re never easy to deal with!”
Zhuo Yifan got agitated. “Master, can you tolerate this?! Can anyone tolerate this?! That Luo Yi is nothing! Without you, he wouldn’t even get a main assignment! I wouldn’t even let him stick his nose in the layout paper! At best, he’s just a junior assistant in the kitchen—I eat crayfish, he doesn’t even deserve to peel it for me!”
At best, just a low-level assistant peeling garlic in the kitchen.
He imagined this vividly, laughing coldly.
“If he fell into my hands, I’d finish him!”
Fang Jing Yao frowned. “Enough. Overpursuing him won’t help you either.”
Hearing this, Zhuo Yifan’s eyes welled up again. “Master, I know this time I got you in trouble. I’d be fine otherwise because you bore the responsibility. But I wasn’t mad at you initially—I just couldn’t stand Luo Yi’s arrogant face. That idiot really thinks he’s important! You don’t know how many people look down on him. And it’s not even my fault! He provoked me first. He copied me, I wouldn’t have bothered him. But how could you take the blame? Half of this work was drawn by you… How is that fair?!”
Fang Jing Yao watched him act silently and asked coldly, “What happened? You don’t know?”
Zhuo Yifan avoided his gaze, voice smaller. “I… don’t know.”
Seeing his scheming expression made Fang Jing Yao angry. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette but glanced at Long Yu and held back. Unable to smoke, his frustration grew, pointing at Zhuo Yifan and scolding, “If you care so much, don’t report! Everything’s mine either way. If you’d cause less trouble, I wouldn’t have to leave… Wait, are you doing this on purpose? Hoping I’d leave?”
Zhuo Yifan smiled carefully, showing small pointed teeth, softening his voice. “Master, no! I just wanted to deal with him. But if you could escape this mess and come to me, I wouldn’t say a word. I’d give you my spot, stick layout paper for you, mix ink, do chores, anything, hehe.”
Fang Jing Yao scoffed. “Heh, yeah right.”
Zhuo Yifan looked delicate and pretty, like a white lotus swaying in the air—but with a black heart.
Fang Jing Yao ate while explaining the situation to Long Yu. It was simple: he and Luo Yi co-ran a manga studio, took a project, and the only problem was a few storyboard panels conflicted with another studio—Zhuo Yifan’s studio. Zhuo Yifan had been Fang Jing Yao’s apprentice for seven or eight years, basically growing up under him—from a rebellious teen to a slightly older version—and thought no one was as great as his master.
Zhuo Yifan privately adored Fang Jing Yao like a parent, but Luo Yi always took advantage of his master. Of course Zhuo Yifan disliked him. Whenever they met, he’d huff coldly, chin raised.
Both sides often clashed. Zhuo Yifan, from a wealthy family, didn’t care—worst-case, he’d return home rich and idle. Luo Yi was cautious, rarely dared to provoke him.
This incident started small. Zhuo Yifan, close to Fang Jing Yao, would hand over completed work for Fang Jing Yao to check, or show off a bit—without caring about originals. This time, Fang Jing Yao modified some panels for him before sending them out. Luo Yi, used to copying Fang Jing Yao’s work, saw it and copied it directly without asking.
Fang Jing Yao could’ve let it go, but Zhuo Yifan couldn’t. He immediately went on the offensive, escalating the situation. Both sides were furious, leaving Fang Jing Yao in the middle with a headache. He finally gave up and went home, leaving them to their feud.
Knowing he had angered his master, Zhuo Yifan carefully served Fang Jing Yao during the meal. Seeing Fang Jing Yao didn’t kick him out, he eagerly said, “Master, since you’re here, I won’t stay at a hotel. I’ll go home with you.”
Fang Jing Yao glanced at Long Yu, who was quietly drinking tea, looking calm.
Fang Jing Yao said, “There’s a hotel across the street. I’ll book you a room for two days…”
Zhuo Yifan’s eyes reddened again, on the verge of crying.
Fang Jing Yao, unable to stand it, grit his teeth. “Fine, fine. You can come home with me. Only two days, then you leave immediately.”
Zhuo Yifan wiped his tears and obediently poured tea for Fang Jing Yao and Long Yu.
Fang Jing Yao went to pay. Long Yu didn’t argue this time. He watched Zhuo Yifan for a while, tapped his fingers on the table, and suddenly said, “Zhuo Yifan, right? Let’s talk.”
Zhuo Yifan straightened instinctively. For some reason, facing Dr. Long made him timid—he didn’t dare cry and throw a fit like he did with Fang Jing Yao.
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