XiaoJiXueHua
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“These boys are genuine jade nuggets, Hirozawa-sama,” the man on the other end of the speakerphone boasted in Japanese, his Chinese accent mangling the syllables. Despite his obvious greed, the intermediary did not forget to use keigo properly. “If you find the time to personally look through the casting footage I sent you, you certainly won't be disappointed.” “To hell with your video,” Hirozawa tossed off carelessly. The old man slowly paced through the sterile hall of his undergroun
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Lee did not accept Sam right away. More precisely, he had never been particularly fond of outsiders entering his orderly, bright, glossy life. Smiling dutifully and winking sweetly at shrieking girls during fan meetings and advertising campaigns was one thing; spending a great deal of time side by side with some unfamiliar guy who, outside of work, had his own wants, whims, and even his own scent was something else entirely. Besides, Sam was hardly his first on-screen partner. Two years ear
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In the Asian entertainment industry, there is a legal concept known as the Assignment of Contract. It is a standard clause that allows an agency to transfer all rights to a third party without the artist's consent. So, while Sam didn't sign the new agreement, Kuroshio Media had already legally bought him. Thank you for reading! Chapter 2 is currently pending approval.
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Some encounters are not accidents. Some passwords cannot be cracked. This is not a story about sweet love. It is a story about people driven by life against the same rock, into the same house, toward the same choice. About those who run, and those who pursue. About sacrifices that ask for nothing in return. And about the darkness in which you can still hear another person's heart. "CODE 9999" is a dark novel about love, betrayal, and redemption. There is no glamour here. Only rain, smoke, silence, and a truth not everyone is ready to endure. The password to the heart is not guessed. It is carved into the skin.
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The air conditioner finally died sometime around six in the morning, just when Sam was supposed to get up. He lay sprawled on a sweat-soaked sheet, staring at the ceiling and listening to the metropolis waking up outside. A motorcycle roared somewhere nearby, then someone slammed a door, followed by an unpleasant burst of laughter. The sounds pressed against his ears. He did not want to get up. What he desperately wanted was to sink back into sleep, although there had been nothing particula
