Chapter 045: The Invitation

Carrying the cake back to her room, she placed it on the nightstand and flopped onto the bed with a sigh. Song Wan truly couldn’t fathom what kind of game Jin Youqian’s family was playing. Wasn’t she supposed to be just a minor celebrity, someone easily overlooked?

The cake wasn’t particularly large, but it was more than Song Wan could finish alone. After a moment’s thought, she picked it up again and headed for Huayu’s room.

Knock, knock, knock—

Standing in the hallway, a chilly draft circled her, making her shiver involuntarily.

Huayu opened the door and, seeing Song Wan, widened her eyes in surprise. “Song Wan? Didn’t you go back to your room?”

Song Wan lifted the cake box helplessly. “I can’t finish it by myself.”

Huayu burst out laughing. “Sometimes I really think President Jin’s whole family is… something else.”

She had never seen in-laws so desperate for a daughter-in-law that they would bypass their own son and settle the matter themselves—especially when neither of the parties involved seemed particularly enthusiastic.

“Come in,” Huayu said, stepping aside.

But Song Wan shook her head. “No, I’m a bit tired today. I want to rest.” She handed the cake to Huayu. “Besides, I can’t eat too much at night. If I gain weight, Director Qian will have my head.”

Huayu rolled her eyes. “As if I wouldn’t get fat from it.”

Song Wan grinned in appeasement. “If you don’t want it, when Director Qian and the others get back from filming, you can ask the assistant to give it to them.”

“So that’s your real plan?” Huayu said, exasperated, pinching her lightly. “Always making me do the dirty work.”

“It’s not you, it’s the assistant,” Song Wan countered.

Huayu pretended to shove the cake back at her. “If the assistant’s doing it, then you go ask her yourself.”

Song Wan gasped. “You wouldn’t, would you, Huayu? Would you really make someone run another errand?”

Huayu clicked her tongue. “You’re such a nuisance. Get out!”

“But, Huayu…”

“I know, I know. I’ll give it to the director and the rest and make sure they eat every crumb—until they’re all round as pigs!”

Song Wan laughed, said her goodbyes, and returned to her room.

—

At ten-thirty that night, Qian Fu led a large group quietly into the Imperial Capital Hotel. People they passed couldn’t help but wonder—why did everyone look so dejected, their spirits so low?

Hearing the commotion, Huayu stepped out and met Qian Fu’s weary gaze. “What happened? Was today’s shoot rough?”

Qian Fu waved his hand dismissively, but before he could speak, the assistant director jumped in, visibly agitated. “Everything was going fine until this afternoon—then Jin Yue showed up on set.”

Huayu frowned. “But she didn’t have any scenes today?”

The assistant director scoffed. “Exactly. But she insisted we shoot her scenes for the day after tomorrow instead, claiming she had a banquet to attend and couldn’t make it then.”

Huayu thought for a moment, realization dawning. “The Starlight Charity Gala?”

“That’s the one.” At the mention of Jin Yue, Qian Fu’s face soured. “I’d love nothing more than to kick her out. Some people, honestly…”

Huayu was equally displeased with Jin Yue, but this time, she had little room to criticize. The Starlight Charity Gala was an annual event to raise funds for children with autism. Its founder was highly influential, attracting a plethora of successful socialites, and in turn, a host of celebrities and their fans. Since its inception, the gala had become the most coveted event of the year—a place where opportunity awaited around every corner.

Huayu herself had rearranged her filming schedule with Qian Fu to attend the gala.

The assistant director seemed to realize this, his expression turning sheepish. “But you’re different from Jin Yue, Huayu. Director Qian never said you couldn’t go. Besides, she’s taken enough leave already…”

He was, in his own way, defending Huayu, but the topic had lost its appeal for her.

She handed the cake box to Qian Fu with a smirk. “Song Wan’s birthday cake—for you all. She said to make sure you eat until you’re all as round as balls…”

Qian Fu eyed her with a grin. “That doesn’t sound like something Song Wan would say.”

Huayu arched an eyebrow. “Take a guess.” Meeting his amused gaze, she shrugged. “Take the cake back with you. It’s from the best pastry chef in the Imperial Capital Hotel. Normally you wouldn’t even get a taste. If it weren’t so late, I could eat half myself.”

With that, she waved goodnight. “It’s late, I need to sleep. If I show up tomorrow with dark circles, the makeup artist will cry.”

After a few more words, she closed her door and retired for the night.

The others eyed the cake in Qian Fu’s hands with longing. The assistant director was the first to sidle up, grinning. “Director Qian…”

Qian Fu, half laughing, took the lead. “Come on, let’s eat it in my room.”

It was Song Wan’s birthday cake—he didn’t even care for sweets, but he had to try a piece. Besides, it was from the Imperial Capital Hotel’s renowned kitchen…

—

The next day on set, everyone’s spirits had visibly improved, and productivity was high.

Song Wan sat in the rest area, in excellent spirits. She had just finished filming a grueling murder scene. The props were disturbingly realistic, and Liu Ya had maintained a stone-cold demeanor throughout, making it a real challenge to capture the right emotions. She’d been anxious about it for five days, worried she wouldn’t get it right, but to her surprise, it was a one-take success.

Huayu was filming, Zhou Zhou was busy in the makeup room, and for the moment, Song Wan had no one to share her excitement with.

She took a big gulp of water, her gaze fixed intently on Huayu as she acted.

“Why are you so happy?”

Lying on a deck chair nearby, Ling Yang suddenly spoke, startling Song Wan.

She managed to keep her composure. “Brother Ling.”

Ling Yang’s eyes were downcast, as if he might be looking at her, or perhaps just at his own knees—his focus impossible to read.

“You usually nail your scenes on the first try. Why so cheerful today?” He chuckled lightly. “Remember that group scene we spent a whole day on? You weren’t this happy then.”

Song Wan chose her words carefully. “Group scenes are tough, but mostly because of the crowd—there’s more room for things to go wrong, but my parts aren’t so difficult. This scene, though… the psychological pressure was intense.”

Ling Yang nodded. “True, girls get nervous more easily.”

Song Wan smiled, not bothering to explain that her nerves were due to the character, not the gruesome set.

Ling Yang assumed he’d guessed right, and to his own surprise, felt some of his restlessness dissipate.

He didn’t try to figure out why. Instead, he smiled at her, playing the senior. “It’s fine. The more you act, the less these things will scare you. When I first started, I was afraid of certain scenes too. You get used to it.”

“I’ll get used to it soon enough,” Song Wan agreed without protest.

Once Ling Yang finished his daily round of small talk and, satisfied with his efforts at team bonding, lost interest and moved on, Song Wan finally had a moment to herself.

She wasn’t sure why, but lately Ling Yang had been seeking her out more and more, as if he’d suddenly discovered her talent. He’d chat with her at every opportunity, regardless of time or place. She could tell he wasn’t particularly sincere, and their relationship hadn’t deepened—just hovered in this lukewarm state.

But as a senior, he’d done nothing untoward, and she couldn’t find a way to reject him.

“Cut! Good, that’s a wrap!” Qian Fu’s voice rang out as Huayu finished her scene and walked over.

Huayu’s assistant started toward her with a water bottle and towel, but Song Wan intercepted them. “You rest here, I’ll take these over.”

Knowing the two were close, the assistant happily handed everything to Song Wan and plopped back down to her game.

Huayu was momentarily surprised to see Song Wan approaching with her things, then frowned knowingly. “Ling Yang tried to ‘bond’ with you again?”

Previously, Huayu had noticed Ling Yang’s odd behavior and confronted him, only to be brushed off with, “We’re in the same project, we need to connect.” Ever since, she’d used that line to mock his antics.

Song Wan nodded helplessly.

“You really are unlucky.” Huayu patted her head, affection in her eyes for three seconds before bursting into laughter. “But it’s fine. He only ever makes small talk—there’s nothing genuine about it. Just brush him off.”

Song Wan sighed. “What else can I do?”

Huayu nudged her playfully, then switched to a serious topic. “Have you heard of the Starlight Charity Gala?”

Song Wan blinked. “Starlight Charity? Of course.”

There was hardly anyone in Jiuzhou who hadn’t heard of it.

Especially for someone entrenched in the entertainment industry—attendance at such galas was almost a rite of passage. She’d known about it in her previous life, though she’d never had the chance or the credentials to attend.

“Do you want to go?” Huayu asked, looking serious.

Song Wan was truly taken aback. “Are you joking, Huayu? Getting an invitation to the Starlight Charity Gala isn’t easy.”

As a top actress, Huayu would certainly have received one, but she couldn’t bring Song Wan as her guest…

“That’s good. Borrow a nice dress tomorrow and come with me,” Huayu said.

Song Wan chuckled, but seeing Huayu’s earnest expression, her own smile faded. “Huayu, I know you have an invitation, but you’re only allowed a male companion, right? Bringing a woman as your guest—what would people say?”

Huayu winked cheekily. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”

Song Wan thought for a moment, then gave her a dazzling, flirtatious look. “If you wouldn’t harm me, why shouldn’t I go?”

Huayu dramatically clutched her face and wailed, “Who says I wouldn’t? A beautiful little thing like you could fetch a high price just by parading around the gala.” She eyed Song Wan mischievously. “Are you sure you want to go?”

Song Wan took it as a joke and laughed. “Of course I’m going.”