"Sima Li, for once, please listen."
Shen Meixin looked as if she was seconds away from having a heart attack as she hurried after him through the TM Entertainment building.
No, hurried was too gentle a word. She was practically fighting for her life trying to match his pace.
Sima Li kept walking.
"Shen, I already told you," he said without looking back. "I'm not doing it."
"But... "
Shen Meixin, Sima Li's PR director and one very exhausted beautiful young woman, stopped in her tracks.
She had spent the entire morning trying to convince him to hold a concert for his new music and then go on tour. Unfortunately, Sima Li had spent that same morning refusing with the stubbornness of a man personally wronged by the concept of schedules.
Sima Li stopped after a few steps and turned around.
When he saw her standing there, confused, tired, and visibly close to spiritual collapse, he sighed.
"Fine," he said. "I'll hear you out."
Shen Meixin immediately beamed.
"You get five minutes," Sima Li added.
Then he pushed open the closest door and walked into the room, with Shen Meixin following quickly behind him.
Sima Li sat down on one of the chairs and leaned back, waiting.
Shen Meixin took a breath and began, "Mr. Li, in previous years, you always went on tour back when you were still in the boy group. Your presence during... "
"Yada, yada." Sima Li raised a hand, cutting her off. "Get to the point. Five minutes, remember? You don't want to waste it on that magnificent speech you have going on."
He smiled.
Shen Meixin paused.
Right. Of course.
"What I'm saying is," she continued, forcing herself to be direct, "hosting a concert now will boost your influence even more. Your fans have been eagerly waiting to see you on stage again, and this time, it will be bigger."
Sima Li considered her words for a moment.
Then he looked at her.
"Hosting a concert for my upcoming album doesn't sound bad to me."
Shen Meixin's eyes lit up.
She's got him now.
Immediately, she took out her phone and quickly tapped on the screen, opening one of the prepared schedules before showing it to him.
Sima Li stared at the screen. "You already had everything prepared?"
Shen Meixin smiled professionally. "It's my job to take care of you, sir."
"This seems enticing and all," Sima Li said, scrolling through the schedule with his eyes. "But why a tour? I understand the concert, but why a tour?"
"Because it's been a while since you went on one," Shen Meixin answered.
Even as she said it, she was not entirely sure whether that was the answer he wanted.
"For a valid reason," Sima Li said.
"Which is?"
"I don't like to tour."
He said with a simple shrug, as if that explained everything.
Shen Meixin stared at him. "What?"
Sima Li leaned back and groaned.
"It's draining, stressful, and by the end of it, I spend a long time recovering from it all." He waved a hand lazily. "I love my fans, yes. But a tour? No."
Tours terrified him more than he liked to admit.
From his days in the boy group to his solo career after leaving them, Sima Li had done everything possible to avoid going on tour again.
"But you can't just say it that bluntly," Shen Meixin said, sounding genuinely helpless.
"If I don't like it, I don't like it. What's there to hide?"
"If word of this gets out... "
"Then it gets out," Sima Li cut in flatly.
He stood and checked his watch.
"Oh, look. Three minutes gone." He patted Shen Meixin lightly on the shoulder. "I'll borrow the remaining two."
He turned and walked toward the door.
"At least do one, then," Shen Meixin called after him.
Sima Li stopped.
For a second, he said nothing. Then he sighed. "Fine. A concert."
With that, he walked out.
And for the first time that day, Shen Meixin finally breathed in relief.
A win was a win.
_________________________
During the days that passed, Louis made sure Mo Fei did not slack off for even a second.
Rehearsals, training, exercise, his schedule had been stripped down and rebuilt from scratch. Louis cut down his diet, tightened his routine, and changed almost everything about his daily life.
If Mo Fei was going to make a professional comeback to the industry, then he had to be prepared both mentally and physically.
Today was one of those days.
Mo Fei had practiced for hours the previous day, and today, he was already exhausted from workouts. He could not even remember how many times he had run, pushed, lifted, stretched, and nearly fainted from sheer exhaustion.
In the end, he collapsed onto the floor.
His body was done.
His soul was already packing its bags and warning him that if he pushed any further, it would leave without notice.
Louis walked over to where he lay on the ground and looked down at him.
"Are you resting?" he asked, raising a brow.
Mo Fei lay there breathless.
"Yes," he said weakly. "I'm too tired."
Louis stared at him for a moment. Then he handed him a bottle of water.
Mo Fei slowly sat up and took it from him.
"Whew. Thanks."
He opened the bottle and took a grateful gulp.
Louis watched him calmly. "How do you feel now?"
"Better," Mo Fei said, smiling gratefully. "Though I need… more rest."
Louis leaned down closer to him. His voice dropped, low and threatening. "You can rest when you die."
Mo Fei froze.
Then Louis snapped, "Get back to training!"
Mo Fei shrieked and scrambled backward in fear before scurrying toward the weights.
At this point, he was no longer sure whether Louis was a manager or a demon sent personally to drag his career out of hell.