To be fair, Yezi agreed to be the model not only because she needed money.
Another reason was that she had misunderstood Cheng Zhu, thinking he was a rich kid.
"What ordinary kid drops 12,000 on score betting, or graduates high school and casually starts an e‑commerce business as the boss?" Yezi thought.
That night at the bar, she'd noticed it clearly—Shen Minglang was so excited he kept yelling that Cheng Zhu was amazing, that he'd won over seventy thousand in one night, even hitting a zero‑zero score.
Yet the young man himself was calm, without much excitement, as if it were nothing special.
And after days of flirting, with Cheng Zhu's level, if she really felt nothing at all, that would be a lie.
So she came today with a "we'll see how it goes" mindset. If the atmosphere reached the right point, then half‑pushing, half‑going along wouldn't be a problem.
"…When you think about it, I'd be the one gaining," she'd thought on the way over.
But who would've expected—there was zero spark.
And this was while she was wearing this kind of outfit!
By logic, wearing QQ apparel should be more alluring than the emperor's new clothes.
"He wouldn't actually be a thing with Young Master Jiang, would he?"
Yezi, confident in her figure, didn't spiral inward. She directly started doubting someone else.
And she really had taken Cheng Zhu's earlier words to heart.
"He said he really likes M‑type traits?" She believed it.
After all, in her view, men usually don't joke about their preferences.
The shoot continued steadily, now down to the final set.
This one was quite Chinese‑style.
Yezi even professionally changed her hairstyle, pinning her long hair up to better match the outfit.
With experience from earlier, they coordinated more smoothly. She increasingly understood the effect Cheng Zhu wanted, so the final set went especially fast.
"Finally done." Cheng Zhu and Yezi sat on the sofa together, both exhaling.
They'd been shooting for four hours.
Wearing the Chinese outfit with her hair pinned up, Yezi had a unique charm—one word: lush.
"Wrap‑up. Four hours and six minutes total. Let's just forget the six minutes, yeah?" Cheng Zhu said.
"Up to you." Yezi was unexpectedly easygoing.
She looked at Cheng Zhu with a slightly seductive smile, though her words didn't match her expression at all. "I was actually pretty nervous on the way here today."
"Nervous about what? Afraid I'd eat you?" The naturally sharp‑browed youth snorted. "Tch. Don't overestimate your charm—you can't handle me."
He picked up the cigarette pack, took out a Liqun, and put it to his lips.
Just as he was about to light it, a pale hand reached over and snatched it away.
"No smoking!" Yezi stared at him, a pent‑up frustration inside her finally wanting to mess with him.
"Hey—!" Cheng Zhu turned, annoyed, only to see Yezi had turned sideways too, now facing away from him on the sofa.
"Little brother, don't smoke. It's bad for your health. If you want to smoke, smoke sister's butt instead."
She spoke with her head lowered, expression unseen, but her aura was unmistakably explosive M‑energy.
Cheng Zhu raised his palm. As he expected, the round peach darted away.
"You pervert—you really eat this up!" Yezi bolted barefoot into the bathroom.
This suite had sliding doors. She pulled it halfway closed, half her body still outside, saying triumphantly, "And you said I couldn't handle you—ha!"
Bang—the door slid shut, but not locked. A gap remained.
Cheng Zhu picked up the earlier Liqun, lit it, and smoked.
Through the haze, his face looked calm—no trace of regret or frustration.
"I knew you'd dodge that slap," he thought. "But I still swung."
"You worked hard today. Didn't want you to stop coming next time—had to let you feel smug."
"That's sweet. Too sweet." He took a drag, feeling absurdly considerate.
But through that little episode, he reached a conclusion.
"My preference is fake—I just made it up to ride the topic."
"But you—yours seems real."
He knew perfectly well that at this point, with the bathroom door unlocked and that gap left, he could go over and open it.
Refusal, escape, leaving a crack—just a tug‑of‑war.
Then he faintly heard a sharp sound from the bathroom—"pia—!"
"You'd better be hitting a mosquito!" Cheng Zhu stubbed out the cigarette and shouted.
Inside, Yezi was still wearing the Chinese outfit, hadn't changed back.
Her heart was racing. Unable to help herself, she'd slapped herself hard enough to make her hips tremble.
Yet her face was redder than what she'd hit, her breathing heavier.
This experienced woman knew well—men can't take provocation, and young men even less so.
"After all that… I really pushed him," she thought, eyes glued to the door.
But a full minute passed. The door didn't open.
She felt a hint of disappointment.
Standing before the large mirror, Yezi, for the first time, felt unsure.
"Is my waist getting thicker?"
"My skin probably isn't as good as a high schooler's."
"I haven't exercised much lately—my hips aren't as perky as before."
Because Cheng Zhu had been utterly unresponsive—even provocation failed—her confidence cracked.
For someone like her, Cheng Zhu's sustained indifference was like an invisible whip.
—A whip that lashed the soul.
…
The shoot was fully finished. It was already past six in the evening.
Cheng Zhu really left the room card with Yezi, and didn't take the samples back, telling her to handle them herself.
You know—model originals like this could fetch a high price on Xianyu.
"There's a KFC next door. Eating?" Cheng Zhu asked, starving.
"I'm dieting, no dinner—but I still have time. If you eat, I can keep you company," Yezi offered.
Cheng Zhu looked at her smile—not as cute as Lin Lu's dimples, but charming in its own way.
"Let's go," he said, heading in and ordering a spicy burger set.
He was truly hungry, eating big bites.
As he ate, he added, "I'll finish retouching soon and send the pics for you to check."
"Mm." Yezi nodded.
"And I'll need to book you again. In about ten days, I'll need another shoot—keep that slot open."
He didn't ask if she was free or willing.
Yezi lifted her head sharply, eyes shining. "Okay."
Despite how exhausting today had been—she'd sworn midway she'd never take this kind of job again—now she felt a strange anticipation for the next shoot, even planning to do more body‑shaping workouts.
Cheng Zhu stuffed fries into his mouth and said, "Don't over‑diet. Keep that great figure for me. Today's shots were perfect."
She'd heard countless compliments about her body before—should've been numb to them.
Yet right now, flowers bloomed in her heart.
TL: If you want to read ahead by at least ten chapters, patreon.com/EdibleMapleSyrup