Love? The Reborn Me Just Wants to Obtain Rewards-Chapter 900 - 373: Chaoyue: You really are a pervert

After Yang Chaoyue happily returned from the "prison" she had been in, she saw Su Huai, and dollar signs instantly popped up in her eyes.

"Boss, is there finally some big gig?!"

"Pfft!"

Su Huai couldn’t help but laugh, giving her an odd look. "What’s the matter? Is the company starving you? Haven’t we always been giving you a living allowance?"

"Two thousand!"

Yang Chaoyue pouted, raised two fingers, and looked utterly disdainful.

"Do you even remember that this is the Imperial Capital? What can you even do with two thousand yuan? I go buy buns and have to rummage through the bottom of the steamer. I wait until the morning market is about to close and ask the owner for the leftovers—one yuan buys three!"

She was truly cheeky.

Su Huai enjoyed teasing her and smiled mischievously. "I remember our cafeteria provides you guys meals, doesn’t it? There’s free lodging too. If you prefer munching on steamed buns, that’s a personal choice. I haven’t been stingy with you guys."

"Oh, come on!"

Once exposed, she immediately acted all cute and playful. "Don’t I have to commute? Don’t I need to buy some daily necessities? Don’t I need to bribe—I mean, treat—the instructors at the training class? Anyway, if you don’t start giving me work, I really will be stuck munching on buns!"

She deliberately avoided mentioning the money she sent back home.

In truth, the living allowance Su Huai provided was enough for Yang Chaoyue to live comfortably. But this girl sent more than half of it back home, so she ended up being quite strapped for cash herself.

It wasn’t that Su Huai couldn’t afford to support the girl group; he could easily give each member a monthly allowance of twenty thousand yuan.

But he just didn’t want to mess with Yang Chaoyue’s current state—he preferred maintaining her "natural" condition.

Thus, the girl group was provided with food, lodging, occasional gigs at smaller events, and top-notch training resources—but they hardly saw any real money.

This setup effectively "starved" Yang Chaoyue and her groupmates, leaving the entire team steeped in a sense of hunger and anxiety.

It was this kind of relentless grinding that whittled down the original seven-person girl group by three, leaving only four members.

As Su Huai put it: If you can’t endure loneliness, then it’s better to quit this industry early.

Once you become famous, temptations will only multiply. If you can’t withstand the hardship of the preparation period, it’ll be even harder to handle the whirlwind of fame and fortune later. Eventually, you’ll bring the company a catastrophic mess.

Yang Chaoyue, for all her complaints, was actually more attentive than anyone else during training sessions, and she truly valued the opportunities she got.

Anxiety is anxiety; effort is effort. Being able to distinguish between the two is what makes a good artist.

Su Huai was satisfied with her in his heart, but he wouldn’t relent with his words. He immediately asked her to demonstrate her skills.

"Alright, show me what you’ve learned. I’ll give you a prompt, and you improvise a short skit. No scene partner, just you. Hmm... The prompt is: buying steamed buns."

"Huh?!"

Yang Chaoyue was stunned. She couldn’t believe how unpredictable her boss was.

"Wait, I-I-I..."

"Can’t perform?" Su Huai raised an eyebrow. "Then all the money I’ve spent on your training has been wasted?"

"I can, I can, I can!" Yang Chaoyue snapped out of it and immediately changed her tune. "Buying buns, right? Oh, I have so much life experience with that!"

She then stepped into the middle of the office and immediately launched into her performance.

First came her physical gestures.

Hands stuffed into her pockets, neck slightly hunched, back slightly arched like a cat. She cautiously walked forward while surveying her surroundings.

What was particularly impressive were her movements—her steps were small and deliberate, planting each foot firmly before advancing with the next.

From the audience’s perspective, it was easy to interpret—oh, it must be winter; the ground is snowy and perhaps slippery.

Her expressions were equally natural and relaxed, so there wasn’t a sense of sneaking or overacting. It was easy to understand that she was searching for something rather than acting shadily.

After taking a few steps, her eyes suddenly lit up, her lips pressed together, and she swallowed nervously before quickly approaching, asking eagerly, "Boss, do you still have buns left?"

Su Huai didn’t act opposite her, so she continued her solo performance.

"How much are they now?"

"One yuan for two? Boss, it’s this late, and your buns aren’t fresh anymore. How can you still charge so much?"

"Come on, look at this heavy snow, this weather, this time—who else is going to come buy buns? Just give me a discount and sell them to me cheap, so you can close up early, and it’s a win-win for both of us, right?"

...

The skit ended with her joyfully spending three yuan to buy ten buns.

The performance didn’t have much of a twist, but it was smooth and fluent.

So while there wasn’t any dramatic conflict, the skit was filled with an authentic slice of life.

"Clap clap clap!"

Su Huai lightly clapped, nodding in approval of her acting.

"Not bad—very grounded in real life. The details were rich and accurate; it’s clear you’re studying hard."

"See?!"

She was the type who couldn’t resist showing off after being praised.

Being cautious, Su Huai quickly countered with a critique: "But... your performance felt too formulaic. Your expressions lacked layers, and overall, it was quite superficial."

"What?! Have *you* ever bought buns before, you bourgeois capitalist?"

She instantly expressed her dissatisfaction.

Su Huai only displayed authority with upper management; with male and female artists, he maintained a very affable demeanor. This girl had observed this several times and thus had no fear of him.

Of course, Su Huai didn’t use authority to suppress her now, either. Instead, he leaned in close and offered constructive criticism.

"Alright, let’s talk about the details of your performance—when you saw the buns, you made a swallowing gesture, correct?

I understand you wanted to show how hungry the character was, but doesn’t that detail feel isolated and abrupt?

If she were truly hungry, wouldn’t her walking pace earlier have been more hurried?

If she were truly hungry, would she be so composed and chatty while bargaining?

If she were truly hungry, wouldn’t she immediately take one out and bite into it after getting the buns?"