Chapter 18: Anger

Otherwise, how could someone, in just their second film, already display a level of acting that faintly surpasses even that of Mr. Sun, a seasoned veteran, making it impossible for anyone to look away from her?

Mr. Sun immediately laughed. “You little girl, I was just saying, if you’d really acted in many roles, how could I not have seen you before? With such a distinctive face, it’s impossible to forget.”

Hua Yu paused at his words, then couldn’t help but reveal a wry smile.

Some people you can compare yourself to, because you have the chance; while with others, the comparison is impossible, because you’ll never be their equal.

Someone like Song Wan, blessed by the heavens, her skill points maxed out at birth—how could an ordinary person, who has to painstakingly build themselves up, ever compete?

Fortunately, Hua Yu wasn’t small-minded; she didn’t harbor any ill will toward Song Wan. Her assistant at her side seemed a bit indignant, but quieted down after a stern look from her.

She walked up to Song Wan, feigning annoyance. “If I’d known you were this talented, I wouldn’t have bothered with you!”

Song Wan was flustered for a moment, then realized Hua Yu was only joking and let out a breath of relief. Tang Su’s situation wasn’t resolved yet; she had no desire to repeat her past life’s mistakes. “Sister Hua, you’re joking. I’m just a newcomer—what acting skills do I have? I was just muddling through. The director and Mr. Ai exaggerated.”

“Do you think I can’t see for myself how good you are?” Hua Yu glared at her, then broke into a smile. “You really remind me of another actress I know.”

Song Wan wanted to ask, but Hua Yu just smiled and turned to Director Qian. “Alright, Director Qian, isn’t it about time we went for lunch?”

Director Qian laughed heartily. “What, you’re afraid I’ll let you go hungry? I’ve had the crew bring lunch boxes to my lounge—let’s go together.”

As the three of them walked off side by side, Song Wan was about to follow when her phone, left on the break table, began to ring. She excused herself and walked over.

Before she could speak, Zhou Zhou’s excited voice burst from the other end. “Wan-jie, Wan-jie! I’m already at the entrance to your set, but the staff won’t let me in. Can you come get me?”

Song Wan replied, “Wait there, I’ll be right out.”

When she rejoined Hua Yu and the others, a young man carrying a bag of drinks trailed behind her.

Director Qian was taken aback. “And this is?”

Before Song Wan could reply, Zhou Zhou deftly handed out the drinks to everyone. Hua Yu, surprised, asked, “Is this your assistant?” She frowned. “Don’t tell me you’ve already signed with a management company?”

If that were the case, Hua Yu thought she would have to rethink her impression of Song Wan.

Artists want to find a good company to secure better resources. Likewise, companies want to choose the best artists, hoping to gain greater benefits. It’s a two-way selection.

But there are only so many good companies, and hundreds or thousands of talented artists—those with good looks, those with acting chops, those with high emotional intelligence, or even all three. With so many artists, how do you stand out and catch the attention of a top company, maybe even become their top pick?

Others might just have to wait or rely on luck. But Song Wan was different—

“Dream of Splendor” had already begun filming, and once it aired, Song Wan’s talent and beauty would surely attract the attention of major companies.

The timing might even come sooner, since “Celestial Among Clouds” was about to wrap. The male and female leads’ character posters had already been released—gorgeous costumes and sets, characters that looked as if they’d stepped out of the novel—stirring up heated debate among the original fans.

Although Miao Yu’s character poster hadn’t been revealed, Hua Yu didn’t believe for a second that Song Wan would fall short of Zhao Meng and Chen Yi.

It was just a few months, yet it seemed Song Wan couldn’t even wait that long. An artist who can’t endure loneliness might rise to fame briefly, but is just as likely to vanish from the public eye if they can’t maintain their composure.

Director Qian and Mr. Sun both looked disapproving. They held Song Wan in high regard, and it would be a shame if her future was ruined by signing with the wrong agency.

Zhou Zhou, completely oblivious, noticed that after handing drinks to the director and the others, their expressions toward Song Wan had changed. Fearing he’d caused trouble for her, he hurried to apologize. “I’m sorry, everyone. I didn’t mean to—about this…”

Song Wan interjected helplessly, “Zhou Zhou, you did nothing wrong.” She turned to Director Qian and the others. “Zhou Zhou isn’t my assistant—he’s a makeup artist I met on my last project. I was late this morning, remember? I thought since I’d delayed everyone, I should treat you all to drinks as an apology. But I had to act and couldn’t step out to buy them. Zhou Zhou happened to be free, so I asked him to do me the favor.”

“Is that really the case?” Hua Yu was still a bit skeptical.

Song Wan couldn’t help but laugh. She knew Hua Yu meant well, so she nodded again. “Really, Zhou Zhou is my friend.” She looked at Director Qian, amused. “If you insist Zhou Zhou has another identity, I wanted to ask if he could be my makeup artist for this production. That way, he’d be my personal makeup artist.”

Zhou Zhou stared at her in shock, his face flushing bright red. “Wan-jie, I can find work on my own!” He turned to leave.

Song Wan quickly stopped him.

Director Qian suddenly recalled who Zhou Zhou was. “Weren’t you in charge of Miao Yu’s makeup on the ‘Celestial Among Clouds’ set?”

Zhou Zhou froze. “You know me?”

Director Qian laughed. “So it really is you? I don’t know you personally, but Zhou Qi, that rascal, mentioned you.” He gave a thumbs-up. “He said you’ve got real skill.”

Zhou Zhou blushed, hanging his head in embarrassment. “It’s not that great. Wan-jie’s already beautiful—any makeup looks good on her.”

Director Qian waved off his modesty. “Our makeup team is fully staffed, but when things get busy, we could use the help. If you’re available, could you lend us a hand? Of course, the pay’s the same as the other artists.”

Zhou Zhou hesitated, but Song Wan understood Director Qian was sincere. She nudged him. “We really are short-handed. Are you really going to say no?”

Trusting Song Wan, Zhou Zhou nodded enthusiastically. “Then I can do Wan-jie’s makeup again!” Even if he wasn’t exclusive to her like on the last set, he was thrilled to work with her once more.

So all were satisfied in the end.

After shooting wrapped that afternoon, Hua Yu approached Song Wan. “Song Wan, are you free tonight?”

Song Wan was puzzled. “I’m free all evening. Is there something you need, Sister Yu?”

Hua Yu’s gaze flickered and a hint of apology appeared on her face. “Ling Yang asked me to set up a meeting with you,” she paused, “He said there’s something he’d like your help with.”

Song Wan frowned slightly. “Sister Yu, I’m just a newcomer.”

She could guess why Ling Yang wanted to see her, but she had little connection to Jin Youqian—if anything, she owed him a favor. Besides, she wasn’t about to plead on behalf of an enemy.

She had no problem with Ling Yang’s cold detachment, but Ling Yang wanted her to intercede for Qin Fei.

Hua Yu knew Song Wan was just starting out, but Ling Yang was so insistent… She hesitated, her hand in her jacket pocket, then finally took out her phone and switched it off.

On the other end, Ling Yang gripped his phone tightly, humiliation twisting like vines around his heart.

Though Song Wan declined Ling Yang’s invitation, it didn’t affect her view of Hua Yu. “Sister Yu, are you free tonight?”

Hua Yu, still dazed, asked, “Yes, why?”

“If we’re both free, why not go get some skewers together?” Song Wan smiled. “I’ve heard there are some great barbecue places around the film city, but I haven’t had a chance to try them since I’ve always been alone.”

Hua Yu laughed as well. “I’ve been filming here for years—I know a few places with excellent skewers.” She winked playfully. “Let’s head back to the hotel and rest first, then meet in the lobby at seven?”

Song Wan eagerly nodded. “It’s a date!”

After returning to the hotel and freshening up, Song Wan went down to the lobby. Hua Yu hadn’t arrived yet, but to her surprise, someone she hadn’t expected appeared.

“Wu Yi?” Song Wan looked at him, wondering if Jin Youqian was nearby as well.

Wu Yi approached. “Miss Song, Mr. Jin invites you to dinner at the Imperial Hotel. Are you available?” Though he asked, he never expected her to refuse.

She was tempted, almost said yes, but paused and shook her head. “I’ve already made plans to dine with someone else. Please let Mr. Jin know I’ll have to decline.”

Wu Yi’s heart skipped a beat. “May I ask which gentleman has the honor of dining with you tonight?”

Song Wan chuckled and shook her head. “It’s Hua Yu, the female lead from our production.”

Wu Yi sighed in relief, his eyes flickering. “Forgive me for being presumptuous. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.” Song Wan shook her head again, and after Wu Yi nodded in farewell, he left.

Though her mind was briefly unsettled, Song Wan quickly adjusted, attributing Jin Youqian’s invitation to a fleeting whim and not giving it further thought.

Wu Yi entered the Imperial Hotel inside the film city and immediately spotted Jin Youqian seated in a corner. He hurried over, lips pressed together. “When I saw Miss Song, she already had dinner plans and declined your invitation.”

Jin Youqian’s demeanor changed. “With whom?”

“The female lead from the production.”

Jin Youqian fell silent, frowning after a long pause. “Didn’t you say women like candlelit dinners?”

Cold sweat broke out on Wu Yi’s forehead. “Miss Song didn’t know you were inviting her to a candlelit dinner.”

Recalling Song Wan’s reaction to being cornered at noon, Jin Youqian grew furious. “I’m docking your pay for a month!”

Wu Yi jerked his head up. “Why?”

“Neither of your suggestions worked!” Jin Youqian’s presence radiated chill.

Wu Yi was stunned, then suddenly remembered that at lunchtime, Mr. Jin had asked him what women liked. As a lifelong bachelor, how could he know? He’d just casually answered: ‘being cornered and candlelit dinners.’

So, aside from the candlelit dinner… Mr. Jin had actually tried cornering Song Wan?

Wu Yi was about to weep—so TV dramas really are all lies!

His eyes darted. For the sake of his bonus, should he mention to Uncle Feng that Mr. Jin had been acting strangely lately?