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

After hanging up the phone, Ding Heng put down his phone and was about to pick up his wine glass when the screen lit up again.

Lin Man sent photos as usual, and Ding Heng was already used to it.

The foolish fox always likes to keep him in suspense, then deliver a big surprise when they finally meet.

Upon clicking on it, however, it turned out not to be the carefully composed, obviously seductive photos that Lin Man usually takes.

In the photo, she is leaning against the sofa with a slight blush on her cheeks, probably because she had just had a few drinks.

She looked directly into the camera, her eyes filled with eager anticipation mixed with a hint of grievance, like a little fox that had been neglected by its owner for a long time, finally mustering the courage to come closer.

There was no deliberate flirting or teasing; he just stared straight at you.

This will make you realize that you have neglected her for far too long.

[Ding Heng]: Go to bed early.

[Ding Heng]: [Cute fox.jpg]

[Lin Hu Leads the Way]: [Cute Little Fox.jpg]

Ding Heng didn't reply. He put his phone aside, picked up his wine glass, and finished the last sip of red wine.

Outside the window, night had completely fallen.

The moonlight was reflected on the sea, making it sparkle.

Footsteps came from the direction of the stairs, getting closer and closer.

"I'm back, are you still eating?"

Long He returned to the dining table and sat down again, picking up a glass of red wine and pouring himself a glass.

Ding Heng asked curiously, "Isn't this song selection? Why is it so fast?"

"No results were reached in the discussion."

Long He took a sip of his drink, his voice full of helplessness: "After all they talked about, in the end they still let me make the decision myself."

"Isn't that a good thing? It means they trust you."

"What a load of rubbish!"

Long He put down his wine glass, his tone irritated: "If I could make my own decisions, would I need to consult them?"

Ding Heng didn't respond, waiting for her to continue.

"Next week will be alright, I can just coast to number nine, but the week after that is the finals! I really don't want to come in third or fourth again and be talked about for the rest of my life..."

Long He never hid his vulnerability from Ding Heng, and was well aware of his shortcomings.

Having not even graduated from junior high school, her knowledge of music theory was still not solid enough.

Although she can occasionally create hit songs like "First Snow," it is still too difficult for her to adapt certain songs and come up with her own new ideas in a short period of time.

"fine."

Ding Heng reassured him, "Just sing normally. We can't possibly be without you in the finals, can we?"

That's what they say...

Long He sighed and said, "But the way it's being done makes me feel like I'm being given special attention."

"Speaking of which, where is your creative team?"

Ding Heng retorted, "You at least pay them such high salaries, and they're completely useless?"

Long He smiled wryly: "I feel like they don't dare to deny me now, for fear of saying the wrong thing."

"Isn't it?"

"real."

Long He gave a helpless, bitter smile: "You don't know, in their eyes I'm a ticking time bomb. They're afraid to say it lightly, or they're even more afraid to say it harshly, because in the end it always comes down to 'Long He, you decide for yourself.'"

Ding Heng's expression turned slightly unpleasant.

He had Lin Man and Yang Sijie pick those people together; their professional abilities were all fine. But the problem was—Long He was too easy to talk to.

She never gets angry with her team, never puts on airs, and never uses her "boss" status to pressure people.

Over time, the people in the team began to have less respect for her.

It wasn't so much a lack of respect, but rather an initial... cautious accommodation.

I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and upsetting her, which would disrupt our harmonious relationship.

No one wants to be the "bad guy" when faced with a "good boss"!

"who cares!"

Long He raised his glass and drank it all in one gulp, then began to slack off: "Let's just take it one week at a time, anyway."

Ding Heng reached out and rubbed her head.

"sleep tight."

"Ah."

Long He responded and did not dodge his brother's large hand.

They both went to bed early that night.

There were no extra words, no extra interaction; everyone went back to their rooms, turned off the lights, and lay down.

Perhaps because he was too tired during the day, Longhe fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, when Ding Heng woke up, there were several more unread messages on his phone, mostly from the girls.

After replying to the messages, Ding Heng put away his phone and went downstairs, where he found Long He already sitting at the dining table.

"morning."

"morning."

What are your plans for today?

Longhe took a bite of bread.

"Let's go out and explore first."

Ding Heng poured himself a cup of coffee: "And you?"

"I'm fine too."

Long He mumbled, "Anyway, I'm not leaving until tomorrow, so I'm just killing time today."

"Together?"

"Okay."

After breakfast, the two changed their clothes and went to the garage.

As expected, Butler Chen was very considerate; a tandem motorcycle was parked quietly in the garage, as simple as could be.

Ding Heng got into the car, turned the key, and glanced back at Long He, nodding slightly.

"boarding."

Without hesitation, Long He climbed into the back seat and naturally placed his hands on Ding Heng's shoulders.

The motorcycle drove out of the garage and headed north along the coastal road.

The surrounding area is a high-end tourist area with almost no locals, and the road conditions are very smooth.

To the left is the azure sea, and to the right is a lush tropical jungle.

The sea breeze rushed towards him, causing the ends of Longhe's hair to flutter in the wind.

At some point, Long He's hand moved from supporting Ding Heng's shoulder to gently encircling his waist.

Ding Heng sensed Long He's movement and slowed down the car slightly.

The two stopped at a seafood market and bought a bunch of shrimp, crab, fish, and some other seafood they couldn't name, as well as a bag of local spices and lemons.

After buying their things, the two of them got back on their motorcycle and returned the way they came.

On the way back, Ding Heng noticed something.

Longhe was humming a song.

It was very light and casual, the melody was intermittent, and sometimes it would stop, with fingers gently tapping on his waist, as if recording a certain rhythm.

Ding Heng did not disturb her.

It was already afternoon when we returned to the villa.

The sun was blazing, but it was cool under the shade of the trees in the courtyard.

Ding Heng parked the car and carried the seafood he had bought into the kitchen.

Longhe followed behind him and peeked out.

What are you planning to do?

"Don't ask, just watch me show you what I've got."

Ding Heng rolled up his sleeves: "I promise I'll treat you to a good meal."

You can cook seafood too?

Long He's expression was full of doubt.

"Have you forgotten that when my mom was sick, I was the one cooking for you, and you just came over to freeload?"

Ding Heng rummaged through the kitchen and found a wok, beginning the preliminary preparations.

"It seems that's true."

"That's not."

Ding Heng turned on the tap and began washing the seafood he had bought.

“Back then, whenever you came, I had to cook an extra dish, and you would still complain about it.”

"That's because you spoiled him!"

"Fine, fine, I've spoiled you."