Imperador do Cinema Abstêmio? Então quem é que está pedindo abraço no meu colo?

The corridor of the hotel was dimly lit.

Ran Xing, dressed in a gray athletic casual set, stood before room 1108. She lifted her chin slightly, confirmed that no one was around, lowered the brim of her black cap, swiped her card, and pushed the door open.

Inside, a man and a woman were about to take things further.

Startled by the interruption, the woman ignored her disheveled hair and let out a sharp cry, shrinking beneath the covers.

The man quickly threw on his bathrobe, cursing, “Who the hell are you, daring to ruin my business?”

Ran Xing locked the door, leaned against it without hurry, took out her phone, and snapped a few photos with crisp efficiency.

Then she looked toward the girl on the bed and gave a soft smile.

“I have very important matters to discuss with Mr. Yang. Are you not leaving?”

After the embarrassed pair finally fled, Ran Xing removed her mask and cap, folded her arms, and let the corner of her mouth lift.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Yang. I’m Ran Xing.”

The few words were courteous enough, yet her eyes curved faintly, carrying the chill of contempt.

The man, however, sat by the bed, coughed once, and casually picked at a loose thread on his bathrobe, showing no sign of fear at all.

He had heard of Ran Xing’s reputation, at least to some extent.

Her temper was notorious for being cold, and she liked to act like a prima donna. There had been several incidents in which she lost her temper on set, smashing things and even shouting at or beating staff.

Her reputation i