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

I had just finished showering when my phone rang. It was my agent, Sister Song.

"Sister Song?"

"Long He, that..."

Sister Song hesitated, as if she found it difficult to speak.

Longhe dried his hair while turning on speakerphone.

"what happened?"

"I just received a notification from the company that you need to check out before 12 o'clock."

Longhe stopped moving.

"What do you mean? Who checks out at midnight?"

"that is……"

Sister Song sighed: "The company said that your contract expires tonight, so... all the resources arranged by the company, including this hotel room, will only last until today."

After a few seconds of silence, Long He let out a helpless, bitter laugh.

"So you mean I have to move out of here in three hours?"

"I've already contacted a new hotel, you..."

"Need not."

Long He interrupted Sister Song, his voice surprisingly calm: "I'll figure it out myself."

"Longhe..."

"Sister Song."

Long He interrupted again, saying, "Didn't you say that I wouldn't be under the company's management after the contract expires? Since I'm not under the company's management, you don't need to worry about the hotel."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"Long He, I'm sorry. I..."

"It's not your fault, you're just an employee."

Sister Song didn't say anything more.

Long He didn't say anything either.

The two people were on the other end of the line, and neither of them hung up.

In the end, it was Sister Song who spoke first.

"Then... be careful."

"Ah."

The phone hangs up.

Longhe put his phone back on the bedside table, sat on the edge of the bed for a while in a sullen manner, and then found it inexplicably funny.

Over the past few months, she believed she had been cooperative enough.

I attend every scheduled event arranged by the company, accept all available announcements, and cooperate fully with all promotional activities.

She treated this last period of time as a dignified farewell performance, thinking that at least it could lead to an amicable ending.

The results of it?

They won't even give you the courtesy of staying one more night.

Capital truly shows no mercy.

Longhe draped the towel back over the chair and stood up to start packing his luggage.

There aren't many things; one suitcase is enough to hold them all.

She folded the clothes and put them inside, then packed the toiletries into a waterproof bag, and finally picked up the digital clock on the bedside table and glanced at it.

21: 47.

There are still more than two hours until midnight.

Longhe zipped up his suitcase, placed the room key on the bedside table, picked up the suitcase, and left the room.

The corridor was long, and the motion-sensor lights turned on one by one, then turned off one by one behind me.

The elevator doors opened, Long He stepped inside, and pressed the button for the first floor.

Her face was reflected in the elevator wall.

She had no makeup on, and her hair was still a little damp, loosely draped over her shoulders.

A black hoodie, dark gray casual pants, and white canvas shoes—he looks like a college student who has just finished evening self-study.

The elevator stopped on the first floor.

My phone vibrated again; it was another message from Sister Song.

[Sister Song]: The new hotel is booked. I'll send you the address. You can just go there directly.

Longhe stepped out of the elevator and typed a reply.

[Sister Long is a dragon, not a milk dragon]: No need.

[Sister Long is a dragon, not a milk dragon]: I have somewhere to go.

[Sister Song]: Where to?

Long He suddenly felt a little irritated.

Where to go?

She didn't know where to go either.

She just didn't want to be controlled by others anymore.

For four years, everything from her schedule and meals to her styling and interviews has been arranged for her. She doesn't need to think or choose; she just needs to obediently carry out her orders.

With her contract expiring soon, she finally had a rare moment of relaxation.

[Sister Long is a dragon, not a milk dragon]: Anyway, there's somewhere to go, don't worry about it.

[Sister Song]: Longhe, what about your mother...?

[Sister Long is a dragon, not a milk dragon]: Sister Song.

Long He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, and continued typing.

[Longhe]: I am no longer an artist of the company and have not signed a new contract. Can you please stop using my mother to pressure me?

After sending the message, she regretted it a little.

That's too harsh a statement; Sister Song has always treated her well.

[Sister Song]: Okay!

[Sister Song]: Please take care of yourself. Call me anytime if anything happens.

Long He didn't reply. He took out his glasses from his pocket, put them on, and strode out of the revolving door.

In the capital city at the end of December, the nighttime temperature had already dropped below zero.

Long He was dressed in thin clothes, and the cold wind blew in through the collar of her sweatshirt, making her shiver.

She stood by the roadside, watching the passing vehicles, and suddenly didn't know which way to go.

The phone screen lit up.

21: 59.

Two hours and one minute left.

Longhe swiped the screen and dialed Huaqing's WeChat number.

"Beep...beep...beep..."

It rang several times before they finally answered.

"Hey?"

Hua Qing's voice was sleepy, as if she had been woken up.

"Hua Qing, it's me."

Long He politely asked, "Um... can I stay at your place for the night?"

"Row."

Hua Qing answered crisply and decisively, without asking why or engaging in any unnecessary small talk.

Long He felt a warmth in his heart.

"You haven't changed the password, have you?"

"No changes."

"Ah."

The phone hangs up.

Longhe put away his phone and hailed a taxi.

"Master, go..."

She gave the address of Huaqing Residential Area.

The driver was a middle-aged man in his forties, speaking with a thick Beijing accent. He glanced at Long He through the rearview mirror.

"Young lady, dragging your suitcase so late at night, just got back from a business trip?"

"That's it."

"Thank you for your hard work."

The driver stepped on the gas: "In this freezing weather, you young people are really good at making things happen."

"Aren't you working too?"

"Sigh... just trying to make a living."