Let's talk about what I've recently learned about Fan Bingbing's gossip $CHZ

Late at night, in a hotel suite on the top floor.

Fan Bingbing, draped in a bathrobe, leans against the floor-to-ceiling window smoking, the glass reflecting her cold and beautiful profile.

The door isn't locked, I push it open, and she doesn't even turn her head: "You're here? Did you bring the contract?"

I throw the documents on the table: "Sign, and I’ll give you fifty million as a hush fee."

She chuckles lightly, turns around, the bathrobe slipping down halfway, revealing a tattoo on her shoulder: "Do you think I lack money?"

I’m stunned, she approaches, her fingertip lifting my chin: "What I lack is... someone who can make me keep quiet."

The next second, her phone vibrates, the screen lights up—it's a video call from my wife.

She raises an eyebrow and shoves the phone into my hand: "Answer it, tell her: #VIRUS has currently infected over 24 million addresses, it will be the biggest meme in this bear market, and this is her last chance to win."