Sunday: The Villain Driving a Wedge Between Brother and Sister!

When the Robin returned to the rehearsal space, Jingxing simply followed behind her.

"You don't need to see me off," she said in the elevator. "Ofila might say a few words to me at most. Today isn't a very important occasion."

"It's alright, let me see you to the door."

"Then be careful." She pulled her scarf up a bit. "There are a lot of people over there—"

"The more people, the better."

She glared at him, but said nothing more.

There were two old scratches on the mirror of the elevator in the rehearsal space. Looking in the mirror, Robin pulled her hat down a little, then pulled her scarf down to reveal her chin, then pulled it back up. Although Ofila would definitely know she'd sneaked out when she got back, as long as the other people at Interastral Peace Entertainment couldn't see it, she'd only complain a few times and that would be it. Unless everyone else saw it too, for the sake of "fairness," Ofila would have to nag a bit more.

The rehearsal building for Interastral Peace Entertainment is located on the outskirts of Thousand Stars City. The entire building is made of glass, but you can't see inside from the outside; it's likely one-way glass.

The hall was adorned with numerous huge posters, with the Robin's face prominently displayed, illuminated by the lights and appearing even brighter than a real person. Beneath the posters sat a row of flower baskets, the lettering on the ribbons faded.

There were four people standing behind the front desk: two security guards and two receptionists.

As soon as the glass door opened, a blast of cold air hit me, mixed with the smell of new carpet and printer paper.

The Robin stopped at the doorway: "How about we—"

"I'll take you inside," Jingxing interrupted her.

"Ofila's got a sharp tongue," she whispered, "But she doesn't target anyone in particular."

"Then I definitely need to go in and take a look." Jingxing walked up to the Robin. "After all, I'm the one who invited you out. I can't just watch you get scolded, can I?"

Once the gates were opened, the atmosphere inside changed instantly as soon as the Robin entered the area.

A woman in a dark suit stood in the center of the hall, holding a cell phone. Seeing the Robin enter, Ofila quickly walked over.

"Miss Robin, you've been gone for almost an hour." Her smiling expression was quite intimidating. "May I have the honor of knowing your whereabouts?"

"Ofila, I--"

"No prior notice, no accompaniment." Ofila's tone was stern. "Robin know that we're rehearsing the stage choreography for our next music show today? Does she know how much we've compromised with the Traditional Projects Department for promotional purposes?"

The Robin lowered its head. "I'm sorry."

She said.

"If apologies were enough, what would be the point of the company employing so many people?" Ofila flipped her phone over. "I have to write a report tonight. What am I supposed to say when they ask? That you went out to play?"

Jingxing stepped forward. "Excuse me, she came to see me."

Ofila turned her head, glanced at him, and frowned.

"This is the work area. Visitors, please wait outside."

She suddenly stopped, squinted, and looked at it again.

"... Are you that painter from back then?"

"Jingxing," he said, "Is currently a manager in the Traditional Projects Department, page 47."

The hall was deathly silent. A staff member's pen hovered in mid-air, the tip leaving a small dot on the paper.

Ofila looked equally astonished. She looked down at her phone, then looked up at him, as if checking something.

A receptionist behind the front desk had already quietly placed her hand on the terminal.

Ofila opened her mouth, then swallowed back the address she had just used, and said instead, "Please wait a moment while I verify."

"Let's verify it."

For the next half minute, no one spoke in the hall.

Jingxing heard footsteps moving behind him, followed by a soft beep from the terminal. Ofila looked down at the screen, swiping her finger up once, then down again.

Her expression slowly changed, and she quickly bowed, not daring to straighten up at all, her voice also lowered. "Mr. Jingxing, I was rude."

"It's nothing," Jingxing waved his hand. "I accompanied her here because I wanted to trouble Miss Ofila to tell your colleagues and superiors."

He took half a step closer to the Robin: "She's mine."

"From now on, Robin's schedule, contracts, what she sings, what she accepts—she has the ultimate decision-making power," Jingxing continued. "And all the various restrictions ostensibly for protection should be lifted."

Ofila's lips moved, but she chose to swallow her words.

"Mr. Jingxing," Ofila said cautiously, "These... all involve company regulations. All I can do is report them upwards."

"Then report it upstairs. Your superiors should be thinking straight." Jingxing shrugged. "When you report it, make it clear: Jingxing, Traditional Projects Department, requesting review of the contract terms for artists at Interastral Peace Entertainment. Sign it with my identification number."

Ofila nodded. "Understood. I'll arrange it right away."

She turned around, her voice now different. "Turn on all the lights in Hall Three. Also, go downstairs and brew a pot of the finest tea."

A voice answered from the end of the corridor, and footsteps echoed downstairs.

The front desk staff sprang into action.

The Robin stood still, watching all of this.

She had seen Ofila lose her temper. She had seen her corner a department manager in a hallway and force him to back down. She had also seen her smile impeccably in front of reporters.

At this moment, Ofila's tone softened as if she were a completely different person.

P47--She mentally re-evaluated Jingxing's new identity.

A single job title can change the attitude of an entire hall of people; it can turn "I have to write a report tonight" into "I'll arrange it right away."

"Jingxing," the Robin's voice was low, "You'll offend a lot of people by doing this."

"I know."

"They're agreeing now because of your rank. What will happen when you're not around—"

"Do they want to test the company's rules and regulations, or face the wrath of P47?" Jingxing scoffed. "And I'll ask another P48 to protect you more."

Penacony, the Moment of Morning Dew.

On Sunday, I sat on the edge of my bed in the office and read the secret letter from Thousand Stars City over and over again— Robin had met with a man at the Inverted Restaurant today for about forty minutes.

"Can you find out who it is?"

"We can't find it," the person standing to the side replied, bowing his head. "The records for the Inverted Restaurant are locked at the Amber-tier. We submitted two inquiry requests, both of which were rejected."

"So it was someone of the Amber-tier who met with her." Sunday squinted.

Yes. The restaurant is being very secretive about his identity.

I looked out the window on Sunday.

"As her older brother," he suddenly said, "I can't even find out who she's eating with without someone telling me. Ever since that bastard disappeared, has she been holding a grudge against me?"

On Sunday, he got up and said, "Forget it, I'll just go to Thousand Stars City myself."