Soon, someone commented that he was just a D-list celebrity pretending to be an asteroid to ride William Clark's popularity, and Andrew Bennett was visibly losing followers. People started arguing in the chat, but some true fans quickly changed the subject and asked what he planned to do for his birthday today.

Andrew Bennett didn’t really care about losing followers. He put his phone on the table, rested his chin on his hand, and thought hard: “Hmm, birthday, huh? I’m going to the company’s New Year’s party today. I heard there’s a big prize drawing—maybe I won’t even have to buy myself a birthday present.”

[Company? Which one is Andy signed with now? Is he going to walk the runway again!! [starry eyes]]

[Our boy finally signed with a company!! Mom is crying so loudly, career fans are celebrating the New Year!]

[Wait? Why are you so focused on the prize drawing (shut up, can’t you just let him enjoy his moment)]

“No more runway shows.” Andrew Bennett replied casually, “Even elementary schoolers have to work hard. I’ve signed with a company called Xingjing now, and today my agent asked me to livestream. I didn’t expect you all to still be awake.”

The comments kept coming.

“I’ve received all your blessings, now go to sleep.” Andrew Bennett finished his task, exhausted. “I hope you’ll all be happy in the new year too.”

With tears in his eyes, he waved goodbye, yawning as he ended the livestream.

What he didn’t know was that his fan group was about to explode from the information he’d just revealed.

*

“What are you laughing at?”

In the car, the young man was resting with his eyes closed, his jawline elegant and smooth, exuding a sense of aloofness and indifference.

Contrary to the gloomy rumors outside, William Clark was still at ease. In fact, they were on their way home from the Deep Sea TV gala—not some rumored blacklist. It was William Clark himself who had ditched Deep Sea TV.

Assistant Little Ethan was looking at something amusing, unable to contain his excitement, and quietly recommended, “Bro, there’s a super, super, super cute newcomer lately. Look.”

William Clark mercifully lifted his eyelids and saw a blurry figure on the screen, frozen mid-yawn: “……”

“Huh? Why did the livestream end?” Little Ethan didn’t notice his failed recommendation at all, took back his phone, and said enthusiastically, “He’s the one who just shot the Mist commercial. Did you see it? Henry Foster just signed him.”

William Clark replied coldly, “No.”

Maybe it was because this day was special, but every year on the first day of the new year, William Clark would inexplicably be in a bad mood.

This feeling usually lasted until the evening before it got better, and those around him were used to it.

This time, with the added drama from his careless words, William Clark was in an even worse mood.

Little Ethan tried to cheer him up by acting silly, deliberately exaggerating, “Hey, he’s really good-looking! Even as a Beta, I’m moved. Let me find that commercial for you. Oh, and he seems to really like you—he said he’s a fan of your looks…”

To William Clark, everything except music was boring.

So he stretched out his long legs and closed his eyes again. “Not interested.”

No matter how good-looking someone was, meeting that one person in this lifetime was enough.

Not worth wasting time.

Chapter 2

Andrew Bennett slept until the afternoon that day and discovered he had once trended on Flow’s hot search.

#XingjingAndrew Bennett# This tag quietly climbed to the thirties in the early hours, and his livestream was replayed many times. But because he was too unknown, it was soon pushed down by other celebrities’ New Year’s Eve tags, and by the time he woke up, he couldn’t even find a trace of it.

Still, with seventy or eighty thousand discussions, Andrew Bennett realized in the super topic that the company he signed with, Xingjing, was definitely not a small agency.

Andrew Bennett knew nothing about the entertainment industry. He’d entered it purely by chance and had never even thought about becoming famous.

When he saw the Mist new product model search online, it was the string of numbers in the payment that caught his eye. On a whim, he sent in a personal video.

The day after he sent the video, he got a call from agent Henry Foster.

“Are you the Andrew Bennett who walked the runway for Baofeini eight years ago?” the other party asked on the phone.

“Yes,” Andrew Bennett replied. “That’s me.”

Eight years ago, Andrew Bennett was fourteen.

His wrist reached past his crotch, his knees were higher than his shoulders—as an Omega with nearly perfect proportions, he walked the runway at twelve. His secondary gender traits appeared very late, so his features were not obvious, giving him an androgynous beauty somewhere between A and O. Thanks to this, he had worked with some big brands.

That life of extravagance and dazzling lights had long faded with age, and Andrew Bennett was surprised the other party recognized him.

Henry Foster said, “What a coincidence. I just happened to see a video of your old runway show online recently.”

Andrew Bennett realized the other party was interested in his past self, and hesitated, “I’m sorry, if you need my previous experience, I’m afraid I can’t do it.”

Henry Foster: “Why?”

Andrew Bennett said, “I had an accident once, and those years are a blank in my memory.”