The night before the college entrance exam results were released, I redeemed my Peking University ad

The door opened.

Ji Bai stood at the door, his hair had been styled, and he had changed into a clean white T-shirt, making him look quite presentable.

Then his eyes lit up.

That brightness was roughly equivalent to the shock of seeing a 4K screen for the first time after playing games all night in a shady internet cafe for three years.

What a beautiful older sister.

Ye Lan in front of me wore delicate Korean-style light makeup. Her eyebrows were willow-leaf shaped, and her eyeliner was drawn just right, neither too thick nor too bright, clean and clear.

A pair of large earrings swayed slightly in the morning light, making her collarbone lines even more defined.

Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, with the ends curling slightly.

She wore a beige fitted knit top and a dark gray pencil skirt that fell just above her knees, creating a perfect silhouette.

Further down were her long, straight legs encased in stockings and high heels, making her look like a female lead straight out of a Korean drama.

Ji Bai looked from top to bottom and then from bottom to top, his gaze lingering on those long legs several times before making a very honest judgment.

Oh no, my dear baby!

Especially those long, beautiful legs—I could admire them for ten years!

Hello, hello!

Ji Bai immediately reached out his hand, smiling broadly.

We shake hands when we meet; we're polite people.

Ye Lan looked at Ji Bai's outstretched right hand, her eyelids twitching twice.

I hesitated.

It's not about avoiding suspicion or being pretentious. Although she has been in the industry for fifteen years with zero scandals, she never resists normal social etiquette. What's wrong with shaking hands?

That's not the problem.

The problem is that her mind is uncontrollably replaying the contents of that phone call from half an hour ago.

He said he needed to poop.

Did he wash his hands in that half hour?

Did you wash it with your left hand or your right hand?

These thoughts swirled in her mind at a speed of eight hundred revolutions per second, leaving her slender hand, which was about to be extended, suspended in mid-air.

Ji Bai realized that his brain, which had been given intelligence by the system, reacted at a speed comparable to a supercomputer in this situation.

"I always use my left hand to wipe myself after pooping, don't worry!"

Ye Lan breathed a soft sigh of relief.

It turns out he uses his left hand, thank goodness.

Although this topic is not very suitable to be discussed between a diva and a boy she just met, at least she took the initiative to clarify, which can be considered...frank.

Without further hesitation, she reached out and shook his hand.

One was boneless, the other dry and powerful.

Then Ji Bai spoke slowly again, his voice neither too loud nor too soft: "Only the trumpet uses the right hand."

Ye Lan's hand froze.

The slender hand that had just been clasped with his suddenly pulled back as if electrocuted.

On that exquisitely beautiful face, the expression visibly... hardened.

Ji Bai burst out laughing when he saw her expression.

"Haha, just kidding!"

"Icebreaker! Do you know what an icebreaker game is?"

"It's like when two people first meet and the atmosphere is a bit awkward, they make a little joke, everyone laughs, and the atmosphere lightens up."

"Doesn't it look much more natural now than before?"

"Hahahaha..."

Ji Bai chuckled awkwardly a few times, and seeing that Ye Lan didn't react, he pursed his lips.

Ye Lan took a few deep breaths.

His chest heaved several times before he managed to suppress the urge to slap him that had risen to his throat.

If not... she promised to teach that brat a lesson.

Aren't you going to invite me in?

"Please come in, please come in!" Ji Bai stepped aside to make way for the doorway, making an exaggerated "please" gesture, like a doorman at a five-star hotel.

Ye Lan walked into the house in her high heels, her eyes quickly scanning the living room.

It wasn't big, but it was cleaner than I expected, and you could tell it had been quickly tidied up during the half hour she was waiting.

The window was open, and the morning breeze blew in, carrying a faint scent of laundry detergent.

"Your house... is quite clean."

Ye Lan sat down on the sofa, her legs together and slightly tilted, the lines of her bodycon skirt creating an elegant curve as she sat down.

She subconsciously chose a spot on the corner of the sofa, about a meter away from Ji Bai.

"Just tidied up,"

Ji Bai went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, placed it in front of her, and then casually slumped down on the other side of the sofa.

"I was struggling with poop when you called, and after I hung up I was struggling with a broom. I was so busy."

Ye Lan paused slightly as she picked up the water glass, then casually put it down.

She decided not to drink water anymore.

Having prepared a whole host of opening remarks, Ye Lan no longer wanted to say them.

She placed her hands on her knees, straightened her back, and got straight to the point.

"Ji Bai, I'm very interested in the song 'Me and My Motherland,' name your price."

Clean and concise, without beating around the bush.

She flew all the way from Beijing, only to be left waiting downstairs for half an hour. Upon entering, she was even subjected to a barrage of attacks from "using her right hand in a small way." Now, all she wanted to do was get the important business settled, lest this unpredictable brat lead her astray again.

Ji Bai chuckled and slumped back on the sofa: "Forget about the copyright, but I can authorize you to cover it."

Ye Lan nodded, her expression calm.

She expected that she wouldn't be able to obtain the copyright.

After all, the huge uproar online before was ultimately due to copyright issues, wasn't it?

To protect the copyright of his work, Ji Bai single-handedly carried his guitar and overpowered everyone on the other side.

Trying to buy the copyright from this kind of person is almost like pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth.

Getting the cover song license is already the best possible outcome.

"A license is fine too, name your price."

Ye Lan remained resolute.

She's not short of money; at her level, money is just a number.

The song itself is what matters.

Ji Bai didn't speak.

His gaze slowly moved down from Ye Lan's face, past the pair of large, swaying earrings, past the neckline of her beige fitted knit top, past the waistline of her dark gray pencil skirt, and finally landed on her long legs encased in flesh-colored stockings.

To be precise, it landed on the stockings.

The task was flashing through his mind: [Obtain a piece of intimate clothing from a goddess with an overall score of 90 or higher within ten days.]

Of all underwear, socks are the easiest to open.

Lucky bag?

No, no, asking for that kind of thing on the first meeting is not just perverted, it's practically blatant sexual harassment.

Moreover, a Chinese pop diva must have an overall score of over 90 points, right?

Ji Bai even thought that Ye Lan could score above 95 points!

At first, Ye Lan thought the boy was admiring her legs.

Her legs are truly admirable; they've been praised for years, both inside and outside the entertainment industry.

Having seen plenty of people who sneak peeks and lewd glances, Ji Bai's open and honest way of looking, without the slightest hint of vulgarity, is actually less offensive.

Beautiful things are meant to be seen.

But Ji Bai stared at her for half a minute without moving his eyes, and Ye Lan finally realized that something was wrong.

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of mockery in her voice, "Kid, staring at my legs for so long, are you planning to pay the licensing fee with a pair of stockings?"

Ji Bai snapped back to reality, his eyes lighting up instantly. He looked up at her, his tone incredibly serious:

"May I?"