Why is the system taking my request to photograph a cosplayer seriously?

Chapter 253 Brothers' Birthday Gifts to Each Other

The cheers from the square still echoed in our ears as the clock struck midnight.

Long He stood there stunned for a long time before finally managing to utter a sentence.

"You, what are you doing—"

"Is it strange that I suddenly appeared here?"

Ding Heng released her, put his hands in his pockets, and adopted a lazy posture.

Long He didn't speak, but began to tiptoe and peer behind Ding Heng.

Ding Heng was amused by her appearance: "What are you doing?"

"You weren't spending New Year's Eve with someone, and then you found me here and came to join the fun, were you?"

Long He took a half step back, narrowed his eyes, and spoke warily.

"Thump."

Ding Heng raised his hand and lightly tapped her forehead.

"You really miss your brother that much?"

Long He stuck out his tongue, rubbed the spot where he had been hit, and then reached out to pinch Ding Heng's exposed arm.

It was hard and firm, with well-defined muscles.

Aren't you cold?

"It's cold."

Ding Heng opened his arms wide: "So, give your brother another hug."

Long He glared at him, but still pressed herself against him.

Ding Heng wrapped his arm around Long He and pulled him close.

"What's next?"

Are you hungry?

I'm not hungry.

"But I'm a little—"

Long He lifted her head from Ding Heng's embrace.

She only ate two fries at McDonald's, which wasn't enough to fill her stomach.

"Shall we find somewhere to eat?"

"What do you want to eat?"

"You're a big star, why don't you treat your bros to something nice?"

"OK!"

Long He subconsciously reached for his phone, wanting to call Sister Song to reserve a restaurant.

The moment she swiped her finger across the screen, she vaguely remembered that Sister Song was no longer her manager, and suddenly realized something.

Without an agent or assistant, she doesn't even know how to spend money.

For example, nowadays, I don't even know who to contact to make a restaurant reservation.

Ding Heng looked down and asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing —"

Longhe put away his phone: "Do you have any good restaurant recommendations?"

"Anything is fine?"

"Of course, it's the Lunar New Year, so it's just a meal for my brother."

2

Ding Heng didn't waste any more words. He took Long He's hand, squeezed through the crowd, and flagged down a taxi on the roadside.

Forty minutes later, the two arrived at the hotel suite that Lin Man had booked.

Pushing open the door and entering the room, you see a steaming copper pot on the dining table in the center of the room, next to several neatly arranged plates of lamb rolls, fatty beef, tripe, vegetables, and meatballs—everything you could want.

Long He asked in surprise, "How long did you prepare?"

Ding Heng pulled out a chair and sat down, then casually picked up a packet of instant noodles, tore it open, and threw it into the pot.

"It's your birthday today, so have a bowl of longevity noodles first."

Longhe watched him cook instant noodles in the pot and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"You really have no manners."

"Why should I be so formal with you? We're not strangers."

Ding Heng picked up his chopsticks, stirred the noodles, scooped them out, put them in a bowl, and pushed it in front of her.

"Try it, it was cooked by my brother."

Longhe took it and took a bite.

The noodles were just regular instant noodles, but the soup base was quite good, very flavorful!

It was piping hot, and the warmth went right up to my stomach.

While eating, Long He asked, "What about your girlfriends?"

Ding Heng put mutton into the pot: "Nothing is more important than spending time with my brothers."

Long He asked warily, "They didn't stand you up, did they? That's why you came to me. This room wasn't prepared for me first."

.

Ding Heng paused in his hot pot, then coughed lightly.

"You could guess that?"

Long He gave a light hum and picked up a piece of tripe with his chopsticks to dip into the pot.

"Is it because you don't have the money to pay the room fee that you called me here?"

"Just eat yours."

Ding Heng placed the cooked mutton into her bowl and said irritably, "Always suspicious of your brother."

Long He lowered his head and ate his mutton, his mind filled with a million questions.

Why is Ding Heng in the capital?

How did Ding Heng find her?

Where did Ding Heng get the money to book such a high-end hotel?

But my brother is celebrating her birthday with her, so there's absolutely no need for him to say anything!

The two ate and chatted, while the soup in the pot bubbled and steamed.

Longhe gradually relaxed and started talking more.

"At midnight today, my contract with my old company officially expired."

She brought up the contract again: "The new contract is for twelve years, from when I was twenty-one until I was thirty-three."

"How are the terms?"

"I haven't looked at it closely yet."

Long He smiled wryly: "My mom said the other party is very sincere and offers very good terms. But even if it's good, twelve years is too long. What if the boss is a greasy middle-aged man who makes me go to dinner parties every day?"

Don't think too badly of people.

-

Why are you speaking up for him?

Ding Heng smiled but didn't reply.

Long He sighed, "Forget it, let's just take it one step at a time. Anyway, my mom wouldn't hurt me."

She picked up her chopsticks, ready to continue eating, when she suddenly remembered something.

"Oh right, I almost forgot to give it to you."

She took something out of her pocket and handed it to Ding Heng.

It's a car key with the Mercedes logo.

"Your birthday present."

Long He said smugly, "I'm going to sign the contract the day after tomorrow, so I'm giving it to you in advance."

Ding Heng picked it up and gently stroked it: "You're really going to buy me a car?"

"I've already had the car parked in your garage. Just go back and get it. Don't drive your stepmother's car; you can't be indebted to someone just because they've eaten your food."

"Does using your food mean I'm obligated to pay for it?"

"How can that be the same!"

'

Ding Heng stopped being coy and put the keys in his pocket.

"Thanks, bro."

"You're welcome."

Long He then waved to him with a smile.

Ding Heng looked at her: "What?"

"Where's my birthday present?"

Ding Heng pointed to the instant noodles in her bowl: "I gave them to you a long time ago."

Long He glared at him: "You call that?"

"Why not? It's cooked by my brother himself; it's priceless."

Just as Long He was about to retort, his phone suddenly vibrated. He picked it up and saw that it was a file sent by Yang Sijie.

The final, official contract.

Longhe opened the app and scrolled down line by line.

As she watched, her expression shifted from nonchalant to incredulous.

"What's wrong?"

Ding Heng asked the question knowing the answer already.

Long He looked up: "Is this boss doing charity work?"

The contract terms are clearly written.

Duration: Twelve years, that's right.

However, the profit-sharing ratio is as follows: Longhe takes 80%, and the company takes 20%.

All expenses related to promotion, production, and distribution will be borne by the company, with no upper limit on repayment.

Longhe has complete creative autonomy, and the company shall not interfere with its musical style, image positioning, or choice of commercial cooperation.

They must take no less than 80 days of mandatory leave each year and must not be assigned a workload that exceeds their physical capacity.

It has an independent brokerage team, with personnel selected by Longhe itself, and the company only provides salary and office support.

Personal assistant, nutritionist, fitness coach, psychologist — all available.

The most outrageous part is the last clause: "The company will provide Ms. Longhe with a private jet for her domestic and international work and personal travel."

Longhe looked at it three times to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"this----"

Her expression was complicated. "Ding Heng, I'm a little scared now."

"What are you afraid of?"

"You think that big boss—could he actually have feelings for me?"

Ding Heng was putting mutton into his mouth when he heard this and almost choked, coughing twice.

"Maybe they just think you sing well."

"You sing well?"

Long He's lips twitched: "Just because I sing well, you think you can give me a private jet? Do you think I'm a three-year-old?"

Why think so much? Do you have any other choice?

"I haven't signed it yet!"

"That's perfect, if you don't want to sign, then don't."

"That won't do. Only a fool wouldn't sign those terms."

Long He hesitated, "I just feel...something's off. What do you think he's after?"

Ding Heng put down his chopsticks, looked at her, and his expression was unusually serious.

"Longhe".

"Um?"

"Just think of him as your die-hard fan, someone who can't stand to see you wronged."

Long He stared at Ding Heng for several seconds before finally bursting out laughing.

"Alright, I'll take your good wishes!"