15: Chapter 15 Everyone keep the platform still

In the livestream room, music slowly began to play.

It was a famous Korean song.

Very dynamic, very sexy.

Yin Suwan's body swayed gently to the rhythm; the hem of her black miniskirt clung to the tops of her thighs, each movement carrying a subtle, lingering suggestion.

Her fingers slid down the back of the chair, her body lowered, and her long hair fell, revealing a large expanse of fair skin on the back of her neck.

She danced against that chair.

Or rather, she was dancing for the crooked "Bai Ye" on the chair.

Her gaze was sometimes hazy, sometimes intense; when her fingers brushed across the chair surface, it was like she was caressing a lover's chest.

When she turned and looked back, a faint smile hung on the corner of her lips.

She treated the chair as a dance partner, sometimes close, sometimes far, every movement precisely hitting the beat.

Every look seemed to be delivered through the screen to someone.

The live chat was completely overwhelmed.

"I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead!!!"

"Is Su Su flirting with the boss? She's so good at this, so good!"

"What kind of god is Big Shot Bai Ye to make Su Su dance like this!"

"I'm willing to be reincarnated as this chair!!!"

"Did anyone notice the words Su Su wrote, 'Bai Ye'? Wuwuwu, I'm crying with envy!"

"..."

The number of viewers in the livestream room surged again!

Su Bai leaned back on the sofa, his fingers unconsciously rubbing against the cola bottle.

The cold surface of the bottle had beaded with condensation, dampening his palm.

Yin Suwan on the screen had reached the chorus part.

Her body slowly slid down the back of the chair like melting cream, then she suddenly turned, braced herself on the chair with one hand, and lifted one leg high.

The tip of her black high heel almost touched the ceiling!

The camera gave her a close-up.

Her gaze was extremely seductive!

Su Bai's Adam's apple bobbed.

He typed again.

[Bai Ye]: Everyone, keep the platform unchanged.

The golden font floated at the top of the screen again, suppressing all the noisy chat.

"Impossible! Can't do it!"

"Even if it's the Big Shot's order, it won't work! I'm definitely going for it!"

"Huh?"

"..."

Yin Suwan's movements paused for a moment, as if she realized something.

Then she nodded gently, very slightly, almost imperceptibly.

"Okay, Boss."

She said softly in Korean, her voice as soft as melting sugar.

The music continued, but her dance style changed.

It was no longer that aggressive kind of sexiness, but softer, more restrained, like a flower slowly blooming in the night.

Her gaze no longer looked directly at the camera but was lowered, her eyelashes casting shadows on her eyelids, yet a faint smile remained at the corner of her lips.

The live chat was still scrolling frantically, but Su Bai didn't look anymore.

He turned off the livestream.

The room became quiet again.

The faint sound of traffic from the street drifted in from outside the window.

The phone screen dimmed, leaving only his own reflection.

Two minutes later, a WeChat message popped up.

Su Su: [Boss, are you satisfied with today's dance?]

Su Bai didn't reply immediately.

He leaned back on the sofa, looking at the ceiling.

The living room lights weren't on; only the sensor light in the entryway was still on, stretching his shadow very long.

He recalled the first time he met Yin Suwan three years ago.

In a dilapidated underground practice room in Gangnam, Seoul, the mirrors were full of cracks, the floor mats were curling up, and the air was filled with the smell of sweat mixed with cheap perfume.

Seventeen girls stood in front of him, wearing uniform white practice clothes, their faces wearing pleasing yet fearful smiles.

The agent said these were all candidates, you can pick whoever you like to sign, the price is negotiable.

He started looking from the first person.

When he walked to the third person, he noticed the girl in the corner who wasn't wearing makeup.

She stood at the very edge of the line, her practice clothes washed until they were faded, and her hair was just casually tied in a ponytail.

Everyone else was desperately pushing forward; only she kept her head down, staring at her dance shoes that had a hole in them.

He stopped his steps.

"You, dance a segment."

The girl looked up, her eyes large, filled with astonishment and disbelief.

She danced.

No music, no audience, only a young Chinese man who didn't know where he came from and seventeen competitors.

Her movements weren't perfect; she even stumbled during a few spins because the floor was too slippery.

But Su Bai watched until the end.

"Just her," he said.

The translator froze for two seconds, confirming it several times before daring to believe it.

The agent got anxious, saying this one wouldn't do, she had the shortest training time, the worst foundation, and wasn't the prettiest; why not take a look at the others?

Su Bai didn't look again.

"Five-year copyright contract, two million RMB advance."

He looked into that girl's eyes,

"Will you sign?"

The girl was in her early twenties at the time, couldn't speak a word of Chinese, and didn't even know what a "copyright contract" meant. But she looked into Su Bai's eyes and only replied with one word:

"OK."

Later she found out that what she signed wasn't an ordinary talent agency, but a personal contract with a mysterious investor whose name she couldn't even call out.

That two million advance payment solved her mother's illness.

It saved her family's life.

The company covered food and housing, hired teachers to teach her Chinese, dance, and vocals; she didn't have to worry about any expenses.

The only thing she had to do was: dance.

She asked him why he wanted to sign her.

Su Bai replied: "Because there is still something in your eyes that hasn't been extinguished."

She didn't understand.

But he didn't need her to understand, either.

The phone lit up again.

Su Su: [Boss, there's a fan meeting next week, will you come?]

Su Su: [I won't talk much, just come and sit for a while.]

Su Su: [Never mind, you're busy, no need to reply.]

Su Bai looked at these three messages and was silent for a while.

He typed:

[If I have time, I will go.]

The other side replied almost instantly:

[Goodnight, Boss! Get some rest early, Boss!]

Su Bai didn't reply.

Su Bai knew Yin Suwan's feelings for him.

But there were some things he didn't want to touch for the time being.

Keeping work and personal life separate was his principle, and it was also the reason he had been able to walk steadily to this day.

He gave artists resources, opportunities, and protection in exchange for them creating value.

Beyond that, anything extra was something he couldn't give and didn't want.

Just like what he said to Long Qi: I only do what I should do.

Before long, the phone screen lit up again.

This time it wasn't WeChat, but a private message from the livestreaming platform's backend.

His "Bai Ye" account was set to reject all private messages from non-followed users, but there was one channel that couldn't be closed—the dedicated channel for platform executives.

The sender ID was "Lin Shen Jian Lu", note: Platform Vice President.

[President Su, sorry to disturb you, I am Lin Lu, head of the Content Review Department.

Your interaction in Yin Suwan's livestream room today has been screen-recorded and spread widely, and it has now reached 17th place on the trending list.

The Operations Department is asking if we need to control the heat?

Additionally, some speculation about your relationship with Yin Suwan has appeared in the comment section; does the PR team need to intervene?]

Su Bai finished reading and typed five words:

[Clean it up.]

The other party replied quickly:

[Okay, understood.]

Su Bai exited the backend and put his phone aside.

The living room became quiet.

Before long, the sound of the door lock turning came from the entryway, and Su Bai looked up from the sofa.

He saw Chu Yi kicking off her two canvas shoes and walking in barefoot.

She had tied her hair in two low ponytails today, which bounced gently on her shoulders with her steps; she was hugging a bulging canvas bag in her arms, looking like she had a bountiful harvest.

"I'm back—"

She put the bag on the coffee table and slumped into the sofa,

"I'm exhausted, exhausted, the library is simply not a place for humans to stay!"

"You were the one who insisted on coming along."

Chu Xiang followed behind her, carrying two heavy school bags,

"I told you to study properly, but you wouldn't listen, sitting there playing on your phone all afternoon."

"When did I play on my phone! I was just looking up information!"

"You were clearly looking up the delivery number for a milk tea shop!"

"That's also information!"

The two sisters walked in bickering; Chu Yi kicked off her shoes, ran barefoot to the side of the sofa, and was stunned when she saw Su Bai.

"Eh? Xiao Bai? You're back? Why aren't the lights on?"

She casually pressed the switch, and the living room instantly lit up.

Su Bai squinted his eyes: "Just got back not long ago."

"Oh, oh."

Chu Yi didn't think much of it, sat down next to him, and stretched a big stretch.

Su Bai moved to the side to make space for her.