Coward or hero—even if only for a few seconds.

No matter how beautiful a face may be, when it is confronted with rivalry, it will inevitably become twisted. Bai Haonan turned his head and saw such a face; neither youth nor heavy makeup could mask the distortions. He remembered, of course, that this was one of the contestants ranked somewhere around twelfth—she had always relied on cuteness and distinctive outfits to stand out, featuring in numerous interviews and promotions. But as Sister Mai had whispered before, contestants like her were usually destined to be cannon fodder.

The one sharing her disheveled expression happened to be the judge Bai Haonan had previously bribed. Now, the judge was desperately trying to silence her, but whether she had paid or offered herself, the contestant refused to be quiet, determined to make a scene.

Bai Haonan didn’t care if she had extorted him before; his first reaction was confusion—how could an eliminated contestant get inside? After all, he himself had barely gotten in; this celebration was strictly internal, hosted by a local Chengdu media company for top ten finalists, judges, related business partners, sponsors, and executive media managers. Bai Haonan wouldn’t have been allowed in if he hadn’t been chatting with Sister Mai.

But he quickly let it go. In such occasions, the more pretty girls, the better. He noticed Chen Sufen and her friends crowding the front rows, mingling with bosses and sponsors. Plenty of other female contestants and receptionists were mingling as well; it was clear the only restrictions were on the less connected, serving only to raise the club’s prestige—a glorified nightclub, really.

Sister Mai, seasoned and sharp, pretended not to notice the complaints behind them, but whispered in Bai Haonan’s ear, “Some people, clueless about their place, think they can break the rules—take money, sleep around, follow the unspoken ones. They never consider who has the final say…”

Bai Haonan smiled and poured her a drink. The organizers used high tables, barely fitting two or three bottles and a handful of guests. He ignored the chaotic scene behind them. “I’ll leave Qiaozi in your care for the future…”

Sister Mai responded similarly, “You’re not going with her? With your cleverness, you’d find far more opportunities on bigger stages.”

Bai Haonan was about to reply when a sharp slap rang out from behind. The girl, now utterly enraged, or perhaps simply hysterical, shouted, “I don’t care, either pay up—”

Several staff members immediately rushed over to seize and drag the unruly, eliminated contestant out. No matter that her flailing exposed her safety shorts; the immature girl was pulled out, leaving the flushed judge awkwardly straightening his clothes.

Bai Haonan was mildly impressed, “Aren’t they afraid she’ll expose everything later?”

Sister Mai didn’t even look, “That’s just hype. As long as the organizers didn’t take money or demand anything, what’s there to worry about? All they want is traffic and attention. And what can she really reveal on her own? Just more fuel for the fire.”

Most people, like Sister Mai, pretended not to see, focusing on the dazzling stage ahead. Perhaps it was the adulation on stage that provoked the eliminated contestant: three of the top ten finalists were men, one was a duo of girls, so eleven people stood on stage, taking turns to give brief thanks, while the host kept the event moving. Most contestants were overwhelmed with excitement—only Qiao Yingna remained calm, occasionally darting quick glances to Sister Mai. Sister Mai had just signed an agent agreement with her, exploiting a loophole discovered in previous years’ contracts: signing with an entertainment company disqualified a contestant from winning, but signing with a personal agent did not. For these grassroots contestants, few had any concept of an agent; most of those who had signed were bound to small performance companies. They couldn’t forbid someone from hiring a professional to manage their future career. Thus, Sister Mai and Qiao Yingna now had a private agent contract; they were connected.

Bai Haonan paid little attention to the fleeting glances. He listened with amusement as the host interacted with the contestants. Sponsors and judges took turns with the microphone, posing probing questions: “Have you ever dated?” “Are you open-minded? How open?” “Do you want to be famous? What price would you pay for fame?”

It was blatant boundary-testing. Some girls, aware of the game, responded confidently, “For fame, I’m willing to pay any price…” Others, shy and flustered, drew even more suggestive questioning.

Perhaps football was more about money, rarely did female bosses lust after male athletes, so Bai Haonan found this nightclub-like scene entertaining. Sister Mai noticed his expression and asked curiously, “You think she can accept this?”

Bai Haonan sneered, “You think she can refuse?”

Sister Mai took a deep breath, “This world isn’t as glamorous and clean as the media claims, nor as pitch-black as you imagine. There are ideals and beauty too, Ah Hao. Since I’ve decided to gradually step back from my current position and move behind the scenes, I’m determined to help Qiaozi as much as I can…”

Bai Haonan laughed, gesturing to the stage with his glass, “Can you even avoid this?”

A few sponsors, under the pretense of toasting, began hugging contestants onstage. The cross-drinking could be dismissed, but their demeanor was much like lecherous patrons in a club. One sponsor, while hugging, started groping a female contestant, shamelessly reaching for her thighs and chest. In front of dozens of executives, managers, all the main organizers in Chengdu, and scores of young women, everyone watched wide-eyed. The lighting was not as dim as a nightclub—anyone seeking satisfaction could easily arrange a private room. Why flaunt such shamelessness here?

Sister Mai sighed, “That’s a local furniture tycoon. You haven’t seen these nouveau riche—spending ten or twenty thousand for an ad slot, they feel entitled to break the rules or take liberties. It’s the shameless, petty mindset—if they can’t sleep with the girls, they’ll at least grope for their money’s worth…”

Bai Haonan saw two female contestants enduring this half-heartedly, surrounded by cheers. The tycoon, emboldened, turned toward Qiao Yingna. Compared to the budding young girls, Qiao Yingna’s mature allure was irresistible. Even Bai Haonan felt her championship title had a certain aphrodisiac effect. The drooling middle-aged man, surrounded by laughter, eagerly reached out…

The newly crowned finalists were nothing more than playthings for sponsors and capital. Qiao Yingna, unable to hold back any longer, snapped, “Don’t touch me—get lost!”

One could nearly hear the sponsor’s lewd laughter, and more sponsors impatiently scrambled onto the stage.

Sister Mai realized things were getting out of hand and rose to instruct her assistant to intervene.

Bai Haonan, however, took a deep breath, removed the black wood-framed glasses he’d worn for two months, and placed them on the table in front of him. “Remember to say you don’t know me.”

Sister Mai had just grasped the meaning of his words when Bai Haonan was already weaving through the crowd, grabbing Chen Sufen—who was hesitating at the edge of the stage—pressing the Range Rover key into her palm, then snatching a bottle from the nearest table. He leaped onto the stage, and before anyone noticed the extra presence, he casually raised the bottle and smashed it down on the sponsor’s head with a resounding crash!

A chorus of screams and curses erupted.

To hell with your rules!

That was Bai Haonan—a seasoned professional footballer, true to his reputation.

In his cunning eyes, rules were only meant to be played with.