Object Substitute

The door to the dressing room suddenly swung open, the sound of high-heeled shoes echoing as a computer was knocked off the makeup table.

Lưu Cần, in anger, spoke, "You knew it right away. After the red carpet, you'll definitely be compared again, and on top of that, you'll be pressured by Dương Đồng!"

On the computer screen was the Weibo hot search.

Two pictures were placed together, black text on a white background.

The thread owner said, "Dương Đồng's face is undoubtedly kissed by angels, truly beautiful, a bright yellow outfit complementing her fair and beautiful skin. But what's the deal with Mạnh Oánh wearing the same color dress? Isn't this just making herself look bad?"

Two pictures, Mạnh Oánh in a figure-hugging, thigh-slit dress. In contrast, Dương Đồng wore a fishtail dress with an exposed neck and green collarbone.

Not the same style but the same color, this can be considered a coincidence. After getting off the car, it was clear that Mạnh Oánh arrived first, but the organizers arranged for Dương Đồng to walk the red carpet first. When she appeared, she immediately attracted attention, with shouts and cheers.

When Mạnh Oánh entered the venue, the screams lessened, along with the media's attention. Some fans even claimed that Mạnh Oánh wanted to grab the hot search.

Lưu Cần only pointed at the screen, saying, "Sister, also check what Dương Đồng is wearing. The news said it was a long black dress with an exposed back. How did it turn into a yellow fishtail dress? Truly beyond words."

The movement of Mạnh Oánh's eyebrow pencil stopped. The delicate, long, small eyebrows she drew looked beautiful. She glanced at the computer on the table and said softly, "Whether I have committed a crime or not, aren't you the one who knows best?"

Lưu Cần grunted, unable to respond.

In Mạnh Oánh's heart, she knew that her family was originally poor. At the age of twenty-four, she graduated and caught Lưu Cần's eye when visiting her younger brother, leading to her signing a contract.

In these few years, Mạnh Oánh, with this face, has caused many controversies while being compared to Dương Đồng. Initially, when she entered the industry, some even said the two looked alike, but after some time, it quieted down. Mạnh Oánh was oppressed by Dương Đồng.

Dương Đồng, a top-tier goddess, being oppressed by her could give Mạnh Oánh a bit of fame. However, after a year or two, Lưu Cần hoped that Mạnh Oánh would take advantage of the time to break free from Dương Đồng's oppression.

Getting used to being oppressed, everything Mạnh Oánh did was compared unfavorably to Dương Đồng. Like a stumbling block, it was truly irritating.

Mạnh Oánh withdrew her gaze from Dương Đồng's face on the computer and continued with her makeup.

At twenty-seven, with fair skin and a hint of facial hair, her beautiful eyes always sparkled, making people want to kiss her.

"But it's strange. The CEO of Hoa Ảnh only supports Dương Đồng? Lưu Cần is still thinking about it, not convinced, repeating it over and over."

Mạnh Oánh's eye makeup paused.

She looked at herself in the mirror, thinking silently. She was curious too.

Why did he only support her?

She smiled gently, took her phone from her bag, and opened WeChat.

Mạnh Oánh: Are you at the company today?

The entire conversation was her sending messages unilaterally. He rarely replied, only twice, saying he was at home, and one New Year's greeting.

She drank some water, looking at the computer screen again, he still didn't respond. Mạnh Oánh didn't look anymore, holding the phone, and opened WeChat.

Lưu Cần: Are you driving me home?

"I can go home by myself." Mạnh Oánh took her bag, speaking.

"Okay."

Lưu Cần handed the car keys to Mạnh Oánh, always feeling that Mạnh Oánh had a boyfriend, but she vehemently denied it.

Probably not true.

Lưu Cần trusted Mạnh Oánh and stopped asking.

Mạnh Oánh got into the car, started the engine, and drove out. The car followed the crowd, heading towards Bich Thành. Swiping the card to enter the small area, she carried her bag and opened the door, immediately seeing a billiard table. A guy in a black shirt, long

black pants, leaned on the table, aimed at the target, and then hit it.

With a poker face.

Mạnh Oánh walked past, reached out, and hugged his waist.

His actions remained unchanged, continuing to throw darts. Mạnh Oánh, in his arms, raised her head. Gently rubbing against him a few times, looking at him.

He didn't move, and a second later, he bowed his head, looking at her, as if smiling without smiling.

Mạnh Oánh's heart jumped.

Then, she tiptoed, touched his thin lips.

He didn't flinch, a second later, his hand grabbed the back of her neck, probing into her mouth.

Mạnh Oánh couldn't help but hug him tightly.

He smelled of grass, intoxicating.

He bit her, extended his hand to hit the last target, then pulled down his shirt, hugged her waist, and lifted her up