Why did the system take my request to take photos with a cosplayer seriously?

"Oh……"

The phone went silent on both ends, and neither of them hung up.

But they both knew that they were no longer like they were when they were children, with endless topics to talk about.

In the end, Ding Heng spoke first.

"brother."

"Ok?"

"Is there anything else you'd like to say?"

Long He was silent for two seconds before tentatively asking.

How are things going between you and your girlfriend?

"Which one?"

Ding Heng blurted it out.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the receiver, followed by a gasp of gritted teeth.

Ding Heng could almost picture Long He's expression at that moment... his brows furrowed, his cheeks puffed out, wanting to scold him but unable to bring himself to do it.

"you……!"

Longhe was furious, but he couldn't bear to hang up the phone.

After all, Ding Heng had finally taken the initiative to contact him once...

“Ding Heng, I know it’s none of my business, but as your brother, I have to give you a couple of pointers.”

Longhe was no longer as carefree as usual.

Despite being a dazzling superstar, he carefully considered his tone in front of a poor student.

"I've seen too many male celebrities in the industry lately who play the field. They seem glamorous on the surface, but none of them end up well."

Ding Heng did not interrupt her.

Long He spoke slowly, thinking as he spoke.

"Some lost all their endorsements after being exposed, and no one dared to offer them acting roles. Some were ganged up on by their ex-girlfriends and were beaten so badly they didn't even recognize their own mothers. Others fared even worse, being confronted by the ex-girlfriends' husbands and beaten so badly they had to stay in the hospital for half a month..."

Ding Heng couldn't listen anymore.

"Can't you be a little more brotherly?"

What's the point of me praising you?

Long He's voice suddenly rose, then fell back down, as if he were restraining himself: "Relationships still need to be genuine, for your own good and for theirs... I don't want to see you become like that in the future."

The phone went silent once again.

Ding Heng responded calmly, "Thank you, brother. I understand."

Long He sensed the perfunctory tone in Ding Heng's voice, and wanted to say something more, but swallowed it back.

Faint shouts came from the other end of the phone; someone was calling "Long He".

"I'm hanging up now."

"it is good."

"Bye-Bye."

"Bye-Bye."

After hanging up the phone, Ding Heng gripped the steering wheel and glanced at the poster again through the rearview mirror.

Billboards in such landmark locations are extremely expensive.

Take the electronic screen at the intersection as an example. It faces the main road, has huge pedestrian traffic, and is located in a core commercial area. The advertising cost would be at least six figures.

The fact that Longhe's poster is here means that the capital behind her is being deployed on a large scale.

The concert pre-show hype is just the surface; the deeper meaning is that it's adding value.

The newcomer who used to rely on his mother's connections to get resources has now grown into a high-quality asset that capital is willing to invest in.

Tours, endorsements, variety shows, music festivals... Once an artist's commercial empire expands, the snowball will keep getting bigger and bigger, until it simply can't be stopped.

The ever-growing snowball of capital will make Longhe increasingly unable to control its own destiny.

The more famous she becomes, the more obstacles she faces.

The agency's contract, the investors' expectations, the fans' pressure... everything was pushing her forward, until she was completely out of control.

Ding Heng withdrew his gaze, let out a long breath, and secretly made plans in his mind.

We need to put the matter of the "unspoken rules" with the brothers on the agenda as soon as possible.

…………

Two days later, Secretary Huang informed Ding Heng that the procedures for registering the company in Hong Kong had been arranged and that he could depart at any time.

The group consisted of four people: Ding Heng, Secretary Huang, Lin Man, and Bai Ma, who insisted on coming along.

It was already afternoon when the plane landed at Hong Kong International Airport.

The person who came to pick them up was a man in his early forties, dressed in a suit and tie, who spoke good Mandarin. He introduced himself as surnamed Zhu, a friend of Qu Zhen in Hong Kong, and was responsible for helping with the procedures.

The group chatted casually for a few moments on the way, and were quite polite.

When Ding Heng inquired about registering the company, Secretary Huang took out a tablet, pulled up a document, and handed it to him.

Starting a company in Hong Kong is simpler than in mainland China.

Only one shareholder and one director are required, regardless of nationality, and all applicants must be at least 18 years old.

The registered capital is symbolically set at HK$10,000, with no actual payment required.

However, a Hong Kong resident or licensed company secretary is required, and Secretary Wong has resolved this issue through an agency. The process, handled by the agency, takes approximately three to five business days, or even less if expedited.

"First, set up the company's framework."

Secretary Huang put away the tablet: "We'll consider opening an account after the formalities are completed. The bank may require you to go there in person for an interview."

Ding Heng nodded: "Okay."

The car eventually stopped in front of a skyscraper.

The gate was understated yet luxurious, and the doorman calmly opened the car door with practiced ease.

The receptionist greets all kinds of guests with a smile, switching between Cantonese and English, and also speaks fluent Mandarin.

Bai Ma skipped and hopped to the front desk, stood on tiptoe and leaned over the counter, looking up as Secretary Huang checked her in.

Lin Man followed half a step behind Ding Heng, her high heels clicking on the ground at a steady pace.

As Ding Heng's secretary, she was wearing a brand new office lady outfit.

Compared to the usual black, white, and gray, the overall burgundy color scheme is more alluring, and paired with sheer black stockings and sky-high heels of 10 centimeters, it makes one stand out in a crowd.

As Secretary Huang was processing the paperwork, Lin Man suddenly stepped forward and handed her her phone: "Secretary Huang, let me do it, the appointment is already made..."

Seeing that her job had been taken away, Secretary Huang remained calm, glancing at Lin Man's NWC premium membership on her phone, secretly curious.

How could a secretary have an NWC premium membership that requires an annual spending of over 30?

After completing the formalities, Lin Man handed over the room key: "Two rooms, one for you and Baima, and one for the boss and me."

Secretary Huang took the room key, his gaze lingering on Lin Man's elegant secretary attire for half a second before casually looking away.

Sharing a room with the boss? And dressed so conspicuously?

Are you... a proper secretary?

The four of them returned to their rooms to rest.

In Hong Kong, where land is incredibly expensive, the suite was larger than Ding Heng had imagined.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows is Victoria Harbour. Dusk is falling, the last orange-red hue on the horizon has not yet faded, and lights are already twinkling on the sea.

Ding Heng quickly settled his luggage, walked to his desk and sat down. Just as he opened his laptop, he heard a few knocks at the door.

Lin Man held a bottle of red wine in her left hand and two wine glasses in her right. Her long hair was tied up in a bun at the back of her head, and she wore a pair of non-prescription glasses.

"Would you like a drink, boss?"

"Come in."

Ding Heng shut down the computer. Lin Man walked into the room, put down the red wine, and sat down on the desk. Her skirt rode up slightly with her movement, revealing a section of her thigh covered by black stockings.

The heel of the high heel tapped lightly on the edge of the table, making a soft "click" sound.

She poured the wine, leaned to the side, and let her long, silver-gray hair fall to one side: "Boss, cheers."

Ding Heng raised his glass and clinked it lightly with Lin Man's: "I have to go out again tonight, so don't drink too much and mess things up."

"Understood, boss."

Lin Man sipped her wine gently, her feet slipping out of her high heels. Her toes, encased in black stockings, hooked lightly around the shoe opening and hovered in mid-air, her instep forming a smooth arc.

With a soft thud, the shoe landed on the carpet, and Lin Man's foot slowly extended towards Ding Heng.

The arch of her foot was perfectly positioned inside Ding Heng's knee, and her toes gently tapped through a thin, gossamer-thin stocking.

Ding Heng reached out and grasped one of her ankles, pressing his thumb against her ankle bone and gently massaging it before slowly sliding it upwards along the curve of her calf.

He casually asked, "You're a senior member of NWC? You used to come to Hong Kong often?"

Lin Man curled her toes slightly: "My mother used to come to Hong Kong to spend money often, and she would occasionally bring me along. She went to the hospital in 12, and in 16, New World sent her a premium membership card. She couldn't use it there, so I just registered it under my name."

Ding Heng's fingers stopped at the middle of her calf, his thumb gently rubbing the outside of her shinbone: "What kind of person is your mother?"

Lin Man chuckled softly.

"Simply put, my mother is a rough person."

"chuff?"

"Her life can be summed up in six words: make money, spend money, and enjoy life!"

Lin Man recalled, "Around 08, 09, and 10 was the peak of her career. At that time, she often took me to Hong Kong to shop. Every time, she would buy a lot of clothes, bags, jewelry, etc. She was the kind of nouveau riche from the mainland that Hong Kong loves..."