novelraw Chapter 788: President Xie, Your Image Is Crumbling!
Chapter 788: President Xie, Your Image Is Crumbling!
6:00 PM.
Songmei Apparel, CEO office.
Outside the window night had fully fallen, and the city’s neon lights braided into a flowing river of color.
Two monitors on the desk were still lit.
The screens were filled with dense but well-organized displays: Songmei Apparel’s detailed financial reports and operating analysis for Q4 2023 (October–December).
Dense, yet clear in structure.
Tang Song leaned back in the ergonomic chair, his long fingers tapping the armrest lightly, his gaze calm and focused.
This past quarter had unquestionably been the critical three months in which Songmei transformed like a carp leaping through the dragon gate.
It moved from explosive growth toward a stable state.
In October, they completed the supply chain integration for Huashang Apparel, and their own brand Heyi (HEYISTUDIO) was formally launched and tested.That month’s GMV was about 50 million yuan, laying the foundation for later surges.
Then came the Double Eleven promotion.
Riding the livestream synergy of He Yiyi and Bei Yuwei, and the sudden breakout of the City Shell Jacket as a hot item, November’s single-month GMV surpassed 150 million yuan.
In December, the trending effect set off by Su Yu began to widely amplify. Thanks to a mature account matrix and brand word-of-mouth viral spread, with the Double Twelve push, single-month GMV firmly reached 250 million yuan.
They had officially entered the top tier of livestream fashion categories.
Such a growth trajectory is hard to imagine for traditional companies, but on the livestream e-commerce track it became reality.
More crucially, the profit structure underwent a fundamental shift.
Last month, their own-brand Heyi’s sales proportion exceeded 60%.
The “slow livestream + short-video seeding + ready-to-ship” model significantly improved conversion and repurchase rates, and return rates stayed below the industry’s better-than-average 50%.
Huashang Apparel’s “7-day fast response” flexible supply chain let Heyi react quickly to market demand, achieving very high inventory turnover and greatly reducing the clothing industry’s deadliest inventory costs.
Now, Songmei Apparel was a mature fashion company with a closed-loop full chain of “owned traffic + owned brand + owned supply chain.”
With nearly 200 employees, they had become an undeniable force in the women’s fashion track.
The foundation was solid.
Next, he needed to plan the company’s “second curve.”
With AI fully empowering operations, deeper full-channel marketing, online-offline omnichannel linkage, and brand endorsements rolling out, 2024 would be the year skyscrapers rose from flat ground.
Regarding the Songmei portion of the Growth Plan mission, he was brimming with confidence—indeed, he felt victory was within reach.
After that would come Xuanji Optical World.
This was after all a foray into frontier hard tech, different from the traffic logic of selling clothes—here there were very high technical barriers and commercial thresholds.
So Tang Song had been using spare moments to study related materials, cramming optics and materials science.
Even during those days in Paris a while back when he was entangled with Su Yu, he had never fully let go of progress on this front.
He also had a tech assistant working hard to adapt to a new job in Shen City, Jiang Pangpang.
January 12, next Friday.
Xuanji Optical World’s new global headquarters in Shen City would officially open.
The building included a carefully prepared high-tech exhibition hall, and there would be a small, invite-only but industry-significant demo and launch event.
At the thought of it, Tang Song felt a thrill.
A man’s ambition is always the best stimulant.
He fantasized about achieved success, about leading a high-tech unicorn, and standing on a higher stage to accept the spotlight...
Of course he held such lofty, primal fantasies.
At that moment—
Ding dong—
The WeChat icon on his computer blinked, and a new message popped up.
[Little Ye]
Tang Song raised an eyebrow and opened the chat.
What first appeared was a high-impact, high-definition selfie.
The photo was clearly taken in the cast’s makeup room or lounge.
Bei Yuwei smiled sweetly and brightly at the camera, but her gaze carried a teasing seductiveness.
Her long black hair had a few striking red and blue streaks; she wore a high-design black-and-white ultra-short, tight, midriff-baring top with a plunging neckline.
Leaning slightly forward in her seat, she exposed those round, fair thighs and a slim waist, exuding the wild beauty of a “torn romance” aesthetic.
A few text messages followed immediately.
[Little Bei: “President Tang~ (heart)(surprised)”]
[Little Bei: “I just received notice from President Mo to prepare my schedule. I’m formally signing as the full-line ambassador for Songmei Apparel·HEYI brand! I know this resource must be because of you!”]
[Little Bei: “This is my ‘e-sports goddess’ look from my new drama. We just finished styling. Haven’t posted on Weibo yet, sending it to you for approval first~ Do you like it?”]
Tang Song’s mouth curved upward. He admired the photo for two seconds, then tapped the keyboard and replied: “Very pretty, send more.”
“Yuyu yu—”
A string of bolder selfies came through next.
Each one hit precisely the parts of male aesthetic taste.
Tang Song reclined in his chair and moved the mouse with interest.
He had to admit: Bei Yuwei’s looks and figure were formidable—no wonder she’d broken out from the fiercely competitive entertainment world to become a top trending star.
Not only were her features exquisite, but more importantly she had a highly recognizable star quality.
In fact, the selection of Songmei Apparel’s spokesperson hadn’t been solely greenlit by him.
Restricted by the Growth Plan mission’s rules, he had to follow normal commercial logic.
So he only proposed a direction; Gao Mengting handled the contacts throughout.
Under the original budget and plan, a small rising star with a matching image would have been enough.
But now a top-tier star like Bei Yuwei suddenly dropping in meant someone was pushing hard behind the scenes.
The motive was obvious.
Su Yu, fully unlocking Charm value 90.
That actress who had been completely compliant with him in Paris obviously understood him and his initiatives extremely well.
This was her arrangement, the “welcome home gift” she’d given him.
In truth, Su Yu spoiled him.
She had even said plainly that if he wanted, all the actresses at Tang Entertainment were his to choose from.
It was almost too generous.
At that moment the chat window pulsed again.
[Little Bei: “By the way President Tang, I’m currently in Guancheng rehearsing and script-reading. My manager’s side is worried communications about the endorsement contract details and the shoot schedule might not be clear...”]
[Little Bei: “But I really value this cooperation! Could I trouble you to come over in person? I want to report my filming ideas face-to-face and sign the contract.”]
Reading the message, Tang Song tapped the desk with his fingertips and thought.
He of course understood Bei Yuwei’s intent.
This idol had deliberately gotten close to him and Songmei Apparel to find a solid backer to better survive and grow in the industry.
Now she probably felt their relationship had gone cold from lack of contact, so she used the signing opportunity to ask to meet.
Once he organized Songmei Apparel’s strategic rollout in Yancheng over the next couple days, he would be flying to Shen City for Xuanji Optical World matters.
Completely on the way.
Also, the choice of spokesperson directly affected Heyi’s next explosion of popularity.
From what he knew of Bei Yuwei, this savvy idol would give two-hundred-percent cooperation.
This would also accelerate his Growth Plan mission.
Beyond these formal reasons, there was a more personal one—
He did miss her.
Counting the days, it had been a long time since they’d met.
Though “long” for Bei Yuwei, who was constantly on set, might only be the length of one production.
Tang Song smiled softly and replied: “Okay, I’ll personally bring the team to sign the contract.”
No sooner had he sent the message than his phone rang.
Riiing—
[Shuyue Sister]
Tang Song checked the time, and the smile at his mouth deepened.
How rare!
This usually overworked female CEO who was nearly unreachable had not only come to the company today to see him and invited him to dinner at her place, she was now phoning him right at closing time to hurry things along.
For the composed and proper workaholic Xie Shuyu, this was like the sun rising in the west.
It seemed tonight’s dinner would have a different flavor.
...
Guancheng, film base.
Cast lounge.
Bei Yuwei stared at her phone, twirling a strand of hair unconsciously, a clever light in her eyes.
When she saw Tang Song’s reply, she practically sprang from her seat.
“Yay!! Boss!”
She pumped her fist in excitement, her radiant face breaking into an unabashed triumphant smile.
Her fingers flew as she replied: “Really?! (victory) Amazing! President Tang, thank you! I’ll wait for you~”
Then she thoughtfully sent the five-star hotel information for her stay and a string of cute stickers.
Knock knock knock—
The lounge door was lightly tapped, and assistant Xiao Tao poked her head in.
She’d been Bei Yuwei’s assistant since debut, close and utterly trusted—closer than a manager.
So even after Bei Yuwei rose to fame, she didn’t replace Xiao Tao.
“Yuwei, the director says tonight is the main cast’s fitting dinner. The producer and screenwriter will be there and want to go over tomorrow’s shooting notice.”
By tradition, these pre-production fitting dinners are unmissable—part of the industry’s rules.
“Got it.”
Bei Yuwei’s smile immediately faded. She locked her phone and slipped it into her Hermès clutch.
She stood, changed into different clothes that wrapped her dazzling figure more conservatively, and, accompanied by Xiao Tao, walked out.
The corridor was brightly lit, staff and other actors passing in a hurry.
As she neared the restaurant entrance, a familiar voice rang out.
“Yuwei! You’re here.”
A pretty girl in an off-white knit sweater hurried over.
“Keke.” Bei Yuwei smiled and slowed her pace.
Lin Keke had been a trainee at the same company when Bei Yuwei debuted; they’d trained and suffered together, so their bond was special.
Back then Bei Yuwei was a small girl with star dreams and uncertainty; Lin Keke was one of the few who spoke honestly.
Life’s twists are unpredictable.
Unlike Bei Yuwei’s meteoric rise, Lin Keke’s path remained lukewarm, moving between modest companies and often facing no roles.
This time the production needed a substantial supporting female role; Bei Yuwei, backed by Tang Entertainment, recommended Lin Keke.
This timely help tightened their relationship.
Lin Keke pushed a cup of coffee toward Bei Yuwei and lowered her voice: “Mr. Zhou just sent this over via someone. The whole set got some. The sender specifically said this cup is for you, temperature and sugar adjusted how you like. I was going to send it to your lounge.”
At the words “Mr. Zhou,” Bei Yuwei’s smile dimmed a touch and her brow tightened almost imperceptibly; she didn’t take the cup.
“Thanks, Keke.”
She managed a suitably apologetic expression. “I’m strictly controlling my diet and sugar right now, so I can’t drink it. Don’t waste Mr. Zhou’s thought—why don’t you have it, or see if another colleague needs it?”
She gently pushed the cup back, a natural gesture that clearly refused.
Lin Keke inspected it, glanced at the coffee that hadn’t been delivered, then looked up at Bei Yuwei.
“Got it. Big star’s dedication. My bad I didn’t think of that.”
Her face stayed pleasant, but in her eyes was a complex mix of envy and some unspoken confusion.
To her, Bei Yuwei’s luck seemed godlike: after exploding overnight she didn’t fizzle out but amassed ever-better resources—films, TV dramas, luxury endorsements, new singles...
She blossomed comprehensively, anchoring the top spot.
What made it rarer was that Bei Yuwei’s career hadn’t produced scandals; she maintained a fresh, healthy image, and the company’s “pure girl” path was steady.
Such fame, such image, such looks attracted countless suitors.
The most aggressive suitor recently was Mr. Zhou Ran.
His family ran Hengke Group, a heavyweight industrial company with deep roots, extensive connections, film distribution channels, and even shares behind this film base—known in the industry as true high society.
Zhou Ran himself was elegant and had a good public reputation.
Lin Keke couldn’t understand why Bei Yuwei always politely kept distance from Zhou Ran’s advances.
To Lin Keke, this was a match made in heaven—at minimum, one should keep the surface relationship cordial in case an entrance into high society opened.
While Lin Keke brooded, footsteps from the other end of the corridor hurried.
A young man in a suit—still wearing stage makeup—walked up briskly.
Lin Keke quickly recovered, plastered on a professional smile:
“Hello, Xu An, you’re here too.”
She treated this male supporting actor with courtesy and a bit of deliberate warmth. In this world, more friends mean more options—who knew when fate might rain on a particular cloud?
Bei Yuwei glanced at him, nodded politely: “Let’s go in. Don’t make the director and producer wait.”
She didn’t linger, pulling Lin Keke forward as they strode toward the high heels and into the restaurant, leaving Xu An with a cool, noble back and the lingering scent of expensive perfume.
His smile froze for a beat, then he switched to a warmer expression and hurried after them.
6:40 PM.
Shengyuan Fine Neighborhood.
A glacier-white Bentley Continental GT glided into the residential underground garage with a low, dignified rumble.
Tang Song instinctively parked in his reserved B1 spot.
One benefit of the “girlfriends living together” arrangement surfaced now.
Because his car had already been registered in the property’s system—thanks to the elder sister—he passed in smoothly.
Engine off. He stepped out.
He took the private elevator up to the courtyard.
Winter at Shengyuan Fine Neighborhood felt desolate yet exuded a tranquil, refined aura.
Withered ginkgo leaves carpeted the path, crunching lightly underfoot.
Tang Song walked along the path.
A dim streetlamp threw patchy light across his profile.
A high nose bridge, deep brow ridge, and eyes that appeared especially calm in the night.
Like a scoop of winter snow—cold, yet at the lamplight’s edge dissolving into a warm, alluring glow.
He walked casually, one hand in his pocket.
He carried a cinematic aura.
Turning this otherwise quiet winter community into a scene of romance and poetry in an instant.
Ahead, a fashionable young woman in a stylish down jacket was walking a large golden retriever.
She trailed, tapping voice messages into her phone, apparently heatedly debating in her girlfriend group about which male celebrity was the hottest or which drama contained a new “national husband.”
Sensing someone approaching, she casually glanced up from her screen.
Just one look.
Her steps halted abruptly.
The dog’s forward momentum tugged the leash taut; she stumbled in her short boots and nearly fell.
“Ouch!”
She blurted, flustered as she regained her balance, a little disheveled.
When she looked up fully, the man walking toward her had noticed her small predicament.
He didn’t stop but offered a polite slight nod and a faint curve of smile.
That smile was light, transient,
yet like a flash of clear, warm light on a winter night, it hit her heart.
Her pulse skipped as if without warning.
Her fingers seemed to move of their own accord, quickly tucking stray hair behind her ear.
Before she could summon words, the figure had already passed by her side and walked on.
Growing small in the lamplight.
A pleasant, subtle fragrance drifted on the cool night breeze.
She stood rooted, hand automatically pressing her chest; her cheeks flamed as if with fever.
She murmured: “Oh my god... which immortal just descended to earth?!”
In her earphones, the girlfriend group chat was in full uproar.
She whispered to her friends: “Girls, I just saw a real male god! In person! In our complex! So handsome! Wait, look!!”
Her fingers moved quickly as she snapped a photo of the retreating silhouette against the shadowed light.
The shot captured a tall, elegant outline bathed in warm golden light, a corner of his black coat lifted by the wind.
Though the features were unclear, the atmosphere was cinematic—like a single stunning frame from a film, full of story.
She sent the photo. The once noisy group fell silent, then erupted into screams and voice messages urging her to chase him down for contact information.
Blushing and flooded with the image of that handsome profile and the gentle smile, she considered running after the figure toward Building 9, but ultimately didn’t find the courage.
...
Building 9, lobby.
Tang Song took out his phone and dialed Xie Shuyu.
He rode the elevator smoothly to the fourth floor. With a soft ding, the doors opened.
Housekeeper Liu, already waiting at the door, immediately smiled: “Good evening Mr. Tang! These are the slippers President Xie prepared for you.”
At the entryway, a neat pair of new deep-gray men’s slippers had been laid out.
Tang Song raised an eyebrow and felt amused.
Not easy—this female CEO finally regarded him as the “man of the house.”
“Thank you, Liu.”
He nodded politely and slipped into the slippers.
He entered the living room bathed in warm yellow light.
The place remained impeccably clean.
Everything placed in neat order; even the sofa cushions aligned precisely.
This slightly fastidious female CEO cared deeply about such details.
“Mr. Tang, sit down. President Xie is in the kitchen finishing the last dish.”
“All right, I’ll go take a look.”
Tang Song didn’t linger. He walked straight toward the kitchen area.
Around the bar, a tall white figure emerged from the kitchen.
Xie Shuyu set down a plate of stir-fried seasonal vegetables on the marble dining table.
She then pulled out a wet wipe and delicately wiped her long fingers—an action of ingrained elegance and exactitude.
Hearing footsteps, she turned and looked up with bright eyes.
“You’re here? Sit. The dishes are all ready. The soup’s simmering on low in the clay pot—ten more minutes.”
The woman before him had shed the sharp business suit of daytime.
She wore soft home clothes that clung to her tall, slim, graceful figure.
Her usually tightly pinned black hair was casually clipped back with a shark clip.
A few stray strands draped down her pale neck, adding a rare lazy, soft femininity.
She stood in the gentle light, her composed face wearing a small smile.
This warm, at-home softness—after she’d set down her weapons—contrasted so extremely with the usual President Xie that Tang Song was momentarily hazed.
As though glimpsing an illusion of the “virtuous wife and good mother.”
He said nothing. He stepped lightly to her side.
Naturally, he wrapped both arms around her slender, resilient waist.
He bent and kissed those soft lips coated with balm.
A faint high-quality body scent mingled with the faint cooking smell from the kitchen, lingering at his nose.
It was an immensely comforting and oddly intoxicating aroma.
Xie Shuyu’s body stiffened instinctively.
She clearly hadn’t expected such a direct opening line, no greeting.
She still held the wet wipe, her wrist frozen midair between push and embrace.
But in a moment her tense body softened.
She closed her eyes slowly and, awkward but willing, returned his kiss.
Being at home, she knew the normal rules of relationships and didn’t hold unnecessary reserve.
Her kiss carried a restraint and propriety distinctively hers—
Not the wild passion of Su Yu, nor the unreserved ardor of Wen Ruan.
More like a warm cup of tea—subtle at first, but with a lingering, intoxicating aftertaste.
After a while they separated gently.
Tang Song leaned to her ear with a light laugh and whispered: “President Xie, is this the pre-dinner dessert? It tastes very nice.”
A thin flush rose on Xie Shuyu’s cheeks; she dropped her gaze a little. “Stop teasing... go wash your hands, let’s eat.”
“All right.”
He patted her proud back and turned to wash his hands.
When he returned, Liu saw the cue and removed her apron.
“Oh President Xie, the dishes are all ready. I’ll head out now—there’s some stuff at home. I’ll come back early tomorrow to tidy up.”
“Mr. Tang, enjoy your meal!”
Liu finished and left briskly.
With the door clicked shut and the lock engaged, the huge house belonged to only the two of them.
The air turned thick and intimate.
Xie Shuyu regained composure and pointed at the table with a slight, barely noticeable expectation: “Try it?”
Tang Song pulled out a chair and sat, eyeing the well-presented dishes.
Stir-fried seasonal vegetables, braised spare ribs, steamed sea bass, and a cold wood-ear salad.
All homely dishes but plated carefully and enticing in color.
He picked up his chopsticks, eager. “We’ve known each other a while but this is the first time I’ve tasted President Xie’s cooking—honored.”
Xie Shuyu smiled: “Actually—Liu prepped and marinated everything beforehand. I just did the final stir-frying. Maybe the timing isn’t perfect. If you don’t like it, don’t mind me.”
“How could that be?” Tang Song took a rib, chewed thoughtfully, then gave a thumbs-up. “Very fragrant, delicious. I like it a lot.”
“Really?” Her eyes brightened.
“Yeah.” Tang Song smiled. “Because it tastes like home.”
A tremor touched Xie Shuyu’s heart. She pursed her lips and said nothing, only silently picked up the serving chopsticks and gave him the tenderest piece of fish belly, carefully picking away any tiny bones.
Under the light, a complex wave of emotion rose in the female CEO’s chest—shame, being moved, guilt, softness.
Only she knew the reasons.
Her recent genuine changes—placing him at the center of her world—were not only love-driven but also because the words Tang Jin Family Office had struck her like a revelation.
After years of commercial struggle, weighing pros and cons, she knew better than anyone what such an enormous business map signified.
These realizations had repeatedly refreshed and deepened her perception of Tang Song.
That shock went far beyond any outward display of surprise.
It was not only about money and power—it was a lever large enough to move the world, a ladder to the sky she had never dared imagine.
She had to admit that no matter how much she hailed independence and equality, she felt her future would be greatly influenced.
She’d just always hidden that behind poise and restraint.
“Eat more.”
She placed the boned fish into his bowl, her voice a touch softer than usual.
“Thanks, Shuyue Sister.”
Tang Song smiled and naturally offered a crisp sugar snap to her plate: “You eat some too... sorry, I forgot the serving chopsticks.”
“No problem.”
Xie Shuyu took the piece without hesitation, chewed slowly, then smoothly changed the topic:
“By the way, Wen Ruan mentioned Songmei Apparel is integrating AI marketing? Testing results are good?”
“Yes. It’s a collaboration with Smart Chain Future. Both Wen Ruan and I invested.”
They sat facing each other, speaking casually.
Warm light and good food.
The soft clink of dishes mingled with low conversation and quiet laughter.
This shared blend of spiritual resonance and domestic life drew them closer without them noticing.
...
After the meal.
Although Liu said she could come back tomorrow to tidy, Xie Shuyu’s mild fastidiousness couldn’t wait.
She tied her apron again, put on rubber gloves, and started cleaning.
Tang Song didn’t just stand by—he rolled up his sleeves and helped.
When everything was done, Xie Shuyu removed her gloves and sighed in slight fatigue. She sniffed at herself, frowned a little.
“My clothes smell of cooking oil. I need a shower.”
“Perfect, I also want to shower.”
Tang Song slid up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “To save water, together? How about it?”
He remembered the times in Quancheng when the female CEO had teased him on a bathroom video call—he wanted to experience it in person.
“No.”
Her face flushed. “I’m not used to showering with others.”
For her, a shower was extremely private and part of thorough cleaning. To be naked together in a steam-filled bathroom pushed past her comfort boundaries, and the thought alone made her embarrassed.
She forced composure and lightly pushed him: “The bathroom’s too small. You wait outside or use the guest bathroom.”
They murmured and tugged a little over it, but the female CEO was unusually resolute on this point.
In the end she took her change of clothes and locked the master bathroom with a definitive click.
Soon water sounded within.
Tang Song smiled helplessly and went to the guest bathroom to wash properly and brush his teeth.
Xie Shuyu always paid attention to hygiene details; preparing thoroughly was right for ensuring things proceeded smoothly later.
After showering, he returned to the master bedroom.
He looked around curiously.
The palette was an elevated Morandi gray and off-white, with clean lines.
A wide bed was dressed in deep-gray silk linens that gleamed softly under the lamp.
A few finance magazines and an aroma diffuser sat neatly on the nightstand.
Beyond that, no exposed personal items or extra decorations.
Elegant, minimalist, orderly.
Tang Song wandered casually and his interest settled on the full wall walk-in closet.
Solid wood doors were tightly shut.
He circled the room and curiosity rose.
Would this always-composed, efficient female CEO keep any sexy underwear or lingerie in her private wardrobe?
If so, after she finished showering, he could coax her into wearing something playful and add a little fun.
If not, he could pick a piece from early acquaintance to play a nostalgic game—would be interesting.
Thinking that, he gently opened the heavy closet door.
A sensor light came on.
Inside, the closet looked like a miniature boutique—clearly zoned and orderly.
Left side: professional suits, coats, dresses sorted by color and season.
Right side: casualwear and accessories. Each item ironed and hung straight, spacing nearly identical.
His gaze swept past the composed clothes straight to the drawer for undergarments and intimate apparel.
That drawer was relatively hidden.
Hesitating slightly, driven by a delicate curiosity, he pulled it open.
Inside were neatly arranged mostly simple, comfortable solid-color lingerie pieces of high-quality material—consistent with her usual taste.
But in the very back corner of the drawer sat a black box that stood out sharply against the surrounding style.
It was slightly ajar.
Tang Song picked it up and gently lifted the lid.
“This... what is this?!”
The instant he saw the contents, Tang Song’s expression froze.
Inside the box carefully nestled a set of intricately designed, futuristic intimate devices.
The main piece was a sleek, curved matte silicone apparatus, accompanied by multiple interchangeable silicone heads, a matchbox-sized wireless controller, plus an instruction manual and a charger.
All parts were orderly, as meticulous as her usual arrangement.
President Xie, your carefully crafted image is crumbling!