Transmigrated into the body of a tycoon's spoiled ex-girlfriend

Immediately afterwards, she did what she did the next day in frustration: she punched the wall, smashing her bag, worth over two million yuan, against the wall as a way of venting her frustration.

The metal buckle on the bag hit the brick wall with a dull thud.

A passerby stopped and glanced at her, then gasped when they saw the deformed bag in her hand: "Holy crap, a limited edition, and you just smashed it like that? Dude, you can have it if you don't want it."

Ke Miantang glared at him, and the passerby shrank back and quickened his pace.

Looking at the broken bag in her hand, Ke Miantang felt much better.

-

On the other side, Bao Min was holding Zhang Xin's arm, and the two had been shopping in the mall for quite a while.

The shopping bag was filled with clothes, all chosen in Ke Miantang's style.

Bao Min pulled a light pink sweater from the shelf, held it up against Zhang Xin, and tilted her head to examine it for a few seconds: "Try this color, it looks better than black. You have fair skin, so light colors suit you better."

Zhang Xin was supposed to go to the lab to work on the data today. The model she ran last night hadn't produced any results yet, but Professor Chen sent her a message this morning telling her to go early.

Before I even left the house, Bao Min dragged me to the mall.

"You're always in the lab, you've gone mad," Bao Min said, rummaging through her clothes. "You're just as good-looking as her, why don't you take care of yourself?"

Zhang Xin didn't refute it, because she really had nothing to refute.

They also went to a hair salon. Bao Min found a stylist who spent more than an hour perming the ends of Zhang Xin's originally long, straight black hair into a very natural, slightly wavy style. If you didn't look closely, you would think it was natural.

This is the effect Zhang Xin wanted; it doesn't look forced, but it's definitely better than before.

When Zhang Xin changed into her newly bought clothes and stood in front of the mirror, Bao Min exclaimed "Wow!" in an exaggerated way.

"Xinxin, you look so good in this, even better than Ke Miantang!"

Zhang Xin looked at herself in the mirror, wearing a light apricot-colored knitted cardigan, a light pink inner layer, a knee-length skirt, and newly bought flat ballet flats.

Her hair was slightly curled and draped over her shoulders, making her look much gentler.

Just now, passersby repeatedly glanced at Zhang Xin, including both boys and girls, and their gazes lingered on her for much longer than usual.

This made Zhang Xin much more confident.

Zhang Xin is indeed beautiful, with the classic innocent and delicate look: an oval face, big eyes, fair skin, and full, non-aggressive lips. It's a subtle beauty that makes you want to look at her more.

A smile curved her lips. "Really?"

There was uncertainty in his voice, but his eyes already held a definite joy.

"Of course." Bao Min took out her phone and snapped a picture. "Let me tell you, dressed like this, who could tell the difference between you and Ke Miantang on the street? The only difference between you two is Rong She."

Zhang Xin's smile faded slightly: "Don't say anymore."

"Okay, okay, I won't say anymore." Bao Min put away her phone, took Zhang Xin's arm, and walked towards the cashier.

Ke Miantang regained consciousness at noon the next day.

She sat on the bed, holding the bag that had been smashed, looking at it from left to right, feeling a pang of annoyance.

He touched the scratches with his finger and gasped in pain.

She began to blame the system for not stopping her.

The system responded with a "hehe".

Ke Miantang felt a little guilty; she really hadn't listened.

But soon, she found a new reason: it was Rong She's fault!

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Why should she have to obediently go back just because he made a phone call?

She wasn't one of his soldiers.

And she would also be mocked by He Yayin. Just thinking about He Yayin's smug expression made her angry.

She's so angry!

"Host, your behavior is becoming more and more like that of a drama queen."

"So what if I'm being difficult?" Ke Miantang said matter-of-factly, raising her chin. "It's his fault. He's interfering with my social life. Can't I even play mahjong with someone?"

"According to the social norms of indigenous people, it is indeed not advisable for the top five couples on the whitelist to stay too late in off-campus card rooms, so Rong's behavior is reasonable to some extent."

"Which side are you on?"

"The system is neutral, but it has to remind you that Rong She wouldn't be a male lead if he weren't domineering. Didn't you like this kind of male lead the most when you were reading novels before you transmigrated?"

Ke Miantang was speechless. She did like this type of male lead, so much so that she would write in the comments section, "Ahhh, I love this crazy male lead so much," and she would even scream in bed with her phone in the middle of the night.

Now it was her turn, and all she wanted to say was: Mom, I want to go home.

She sighed and looked down at the broken bag in her arms. Oh dear, it was beyond repair.

She was heartbroken. This color scheme was unique. When Rong She gave it to her, she waited half a month for it to be flown in from France. She was so happy when she unpacked it that she couldn't sleep that night.

It was smashed before I even had a chance to memorize it all.

She wished she could travel back in time, pin down the version of herself who had smashed the wall with her bag last night, and slap her hard twice.

Ke Miantang opened her chat with Rong She and sent him a picture of the bag.

The caption read: "Oops, my bag's broken."

After sending it, she found herself ridiculous. Why did she send him this? He doesn't even know how to fix bags.

I was just about to toss my phone aside when the screen lit up.

One word: "Buy".

Ke Miantang stared at the word, her eyes suddenly lighting up. She was no longer depressed, and she had the energy to type: "Then I want two, to memorize them alternately."

The other end replied instantly: "Whatever."

Ke Miantang held his phone to his chest, grinning.

She rolled over in bed, laughed for a while, then rolled back over and stared at the ceiling.

Rong She is a truly qualified boyfriend.

He's not just qualified, he's beyond the limit! Who could resist a man like that?

Then she cleared her throat and said to herself: Ke Miantang, remember, you just want to spend his money, nothing else.

She repeated the sentence to herself three times, then opened the official website and started looking at pictures of the new bags.

The milky white one is discontinued, so she has to choose a different color.

-

A video of Rong She being interviewed has gone viral.

The incident stemmed from his participation in an economic forum in the capital over the past two days, after which he was surrounded by reporters from several media outlets at the entrance of the conference center.

He usually doesn't linger in such situations; his time is measured down to the minute, and every extra second is a waste of efficiency.

For some reason, he stopped this time, which was unprecedented for him.

The first few questions were all routine, such as Nebula's future strategic plans, its views on emerging markets, and whether there were any acquisition plans in the second half of the year. He answered them all according to his prepared answers.

The last reporter, a young woman who had only recently entered the industry, asked: "Mr. Rong, this might be a somewhat personal question. What kind of girl do you like?"

Several veteran reporters around her glanced at her; these kinds of questions usually went unanswered.

In front of the heir of the Nebula Group, it's something you shouldn't even ask.

Rong She was about to leave when he heard this, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

The bodyguard lowered his hand.