Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 39

A soft, clear voice drifted into his ears.

Shang He froze for a moment, then the corners of his beautiful, almond-shaped eyes curved like crescent moons.

Though his teacher had once told him he was already at a professional level with his violin, this was the first time someone had truly defined him with those words—not as a good-for-nothing rich heir, but as a violinist.

Even though, in his father’s eyes, the music he loved so much was utterly useless.

His outstanding older brother, his peers already managing top companies, his father’s disapproval and constant scolding—everything weighed down on him, suffocating him. He’d desperately wanted to escape.

Song Weijiao stared at Su Ci in disbelief.

“You actually dared to sign him?!”

Someone who played that kind of unmarketable, worthless music… and she dared call him a violinist?
This newly hired manager must be beautiful and brain-dead.

If only Shang He would be like other male singers—write a few catchy pop love songs and go viral. Maybe then he wouldn’t have faded into total obscurity.
Who cared to appreciate his so-called artistry?

Because she was still holding his hand, the barely noticeable tremor in the boy’s fingers traveled through to Su Ci.

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, her face serious and unwavering.
“Of course. I’m only signing him. I believe in his talent, and that he’ll carve out his own path.”

Song Weijiao clearly didn’t agree. She cast Shang He a contemptuous look, hoping he’d take the hint and stop dragging this clueless beauty down with him.

But Shang He acted like she wasn’t even there. His gaze was locked entirely on Su Ci, eyes filled with a dense, shadowy intensity that looked like it might swallow her whole.

That suffocating stickiness—Song Weijiao would never forget it, even in another lifetime.

Despite her disgust and loathing, she couldn’t help but recall how he’d once forced her to cancel all her contracts with other artists, demanding complete control.

What a joke—pretending to be this devoted, passionate type.
Strict with others, lenient with himself. And now look—so easily signed with someone else. Shameless!

Maybe it was for the best that Su Ci signed him—at least that saved her from ending up stuck with him again. With her head held high, Song Weijiao left.

Back at the office, Su Ci took out a contract she had carefully prepared.

It was the best she could offer him as a new employee—a contract that, despite her limited authority, ensured the best possible terms for Shang He.

But Shang He didn’t sign right away. Instead, he raised his eyes anxiously, voice cautious and hesitant.

“Manager Su… am I… allowed to sign?”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with the contract?”

His face flushed red instantly, and he fumbled to explain:
“N-No! I’m just afraid I’m not good enough… that I’ll drag you down and hurt your performance.”

He knew what the others thought of him. Their odd glances and openly mocking expressions in the rehearsal room hadn’t escaped him.

Even the other managers didn’t believe in him.

But Su Ci had said—she would only sign him.

Those words were like music to his ears, tearing him in two—half overjoyed, half deeply insecure.

He was terrified he wouldn’t live up to her expectations.

Su Ci handed him a pen.

“It’s fine. Just think of it as signing yourself over to me. If you don’t hit the targets, we’ll go somewhere else. My future star will shine no matter what.”

Shang He grabbed the pen instantly, signing his name in bold strokes—only then did he bury his head and begin carefully reading the contract.

If he didn’t keep his head down, Manager Su might see just how red his face had gotten—like a monkey’s butt.

What is wrong with me?

Every word she says makes my heart beat out of control.
I must be beyond saving.

Then he noticed something.

“Why is the contract only… three years?”

It was too short.
Hadn’t they said no cancellations ever?
He wanted to be bound to her for life.

Even if it were a cutthroat deal—ten years, twenty years—with no exposure, no resources, he wouldn’t care.
He’d willingly become her laborer, just to stay by her side.

Su Ci reached out to tousle his soft, fluffy hair.

“That’s the contract with Xingteng.”

She paused, then looked into his amber eyes with warmth and focus.

“The one between you and me—that’s for life. Pinky promise. No breaking it.”

At the headquarters of Shang Corporation
Top floor, President’s Office, 53rd level.

The assistant entered respectfully, handing over a file.

“President Shang, it’s all been arranged. This is the profile of the manager who signed Second Young Master. Please take a look.”

“Mm. Don’t let him find out I pulled strings.”

Shang Yi flipped through the file. The manager had a solid resume, impressive in every way. She’d only been on the job a week but showed strong potential.

Especially her looks—even in the entertainment industry, she could outshine most top-tier stars.
Why on earth did someone like her choose to be a manager?

Still, it looked like Shang He had lucked out—finally found someone who saw his potential.

Watching his boss examine the file with such focus, the assistant couldn’t help but feel a little bitter.

“President Shang, you’ve almost burned through all your personal assets just to acquire Xingteng. Was it really worth it?”

After ten years as his assistant, he knew well—President Shang wasn’t the chairman’s biological son.
He looked glamorous on the outside, but in truth, he was just a hard-working beast of burden.

Shang Yi frowned.
“What kind of question is that? A-He is my little brother. All of Shang Corporation belongs to him.”

The assistant grumbled internally: But you’ve been managing the company all these years, and all for a measly salary!

Then Shang Yi asked suddenly:
“Xiao Yang, if I remember right, we both came from the same orphanage?”

“Now I pay your salary, and I can fire you anytime. Tell me—was it worth it?”

Assistant Xiao Yang: “……”

Shang Yi ignored his pitiful expression and stood to adjust his tie and suit.

“I’ve signed everything here. Take care of the documents.”
“And book a private, quiet restaurant for dinner tonight—I’ve got a date with my girlfriend.”

Perpetually single Xiao Yang: “……”

Back at the practice room.

Song Weijiao stepped in and immediately spotted the two artists she’d once managed in her past life—future film emperor Qu Zhizhou and pop queen Yan Zhiyan.

Strangely, in the crowd of fresh trainees, neither of them stood out much.

As she passed Yan Zhiyan, Song Weijiao gave her a critical once-over.

“Why do you look so bad? Your skin’s dull, and your body management’s a mess.”

Yan Zhiyan: “???”

Among this group, she was clearly one of the best-looking, wasn’t she?
She hadn’t had any work done, unlike the newer starlets whose faces were half plastic.

Her body? It was normal.
She was tall—170 cm and 50 kg—not exactly letting herself go.

Besides, she wanted to be a singer. To succeed through talent, not appearances.
Why did she need to starve herself for the camera like an idol?

Song Weijiao waved dismissively.
“Whatever. Sign with me first—we can work on your image later.”

Yan Zhiyan replied stiffly:
“I already told Manager Xu.”

Xu-jie had managed a few moderately successful second-tier singers and had more experience than Song Weijiao. She was also the first to approach Yan Zhiyan, so she naturally leaned toward her.

More importantly—this woman just insulted her to her face!

Song Weijiao wasn’t even that pretty herself. Who gave her the right to call others ugly?

Her voice rising, Song Weijiao snapped:
“You’re picking that old witch over me? I worked my ass off to make you a queen of pop, and this is how you repay me?!”

Yan Zhiyan stared blankly, utterly confused.

Is this woman insane?

On Shang He’s first official day after signing, Su Ci took him on a tour of the company.

She patiently explained the regulations and rules.

“…This is the rehearsal space. You can borrow it for practice. The instruments here are okay, but nothing special. I’ll try to get you better ones soon.”

Shang He was practically floating the whole time.

“You don’t have to treat me so well, jie. I’m not picky. I can work hard like everyone else. I’ll do my best and never cause trouble for you.”

Su Ci smiled at him.
“But they’re not my Shang He. My artist deserves the best of everything.”

And do I… deserve the best of you too?

Shang He lowered his long lashes, hiding the obsession and intensity in his eyes.
Words far too bold danced on the tip of his tongue—but he swallowed them.

Not yet.

Just wait a little longer, jie. I’ll become someone worthy of you. I’ll place trophies and glory at your feet, then kneel before you… begging for your favor.

Lost in thoughts of Su Ci, he found it hard to focus for the rest of the tour.

Just as they were parting, he remembered—

He was broke. A homeless stray.

With red ears and visible embarrassment, he asked:
“Jie… does the company offer dorms for signed artists?”