Chapter 066: Intimacy

Song Wan's face was expressionless.

Gao Xiang gave an awkward laugh, but as she tried to restrain herself, she suddenly burst into genuine laughter. Seeing this, Song Wan couldn't hold back either, and a smile broke across her face.

These numbers were truly astonishing.

Though the internet was in an uproar, the magazine’s fate ultimately rested on its sales figures. Both of them suppressed the excitement in their hearts and waited calmly for the final result.

It wasn’t just them—Song Wan’s competitors, and even her peers at “Feminine Grace,” were all awaiting the outcome.

A week later, after the peak sales period had passed, the chief editor of “Feminine Grace” called Gao Xiang to inform her of the magazine’s sales figures. The two women stared at each other in disbelief.

Song Wan couldn’t help but widen her eyes. “How many did you just say?”

Gao Xiang’s face was equally incredulous. “He said the original run of 480,000 copies is completely sold out. Of the extra 200,000 copies they printed, fewer than 50,000 remain in stock. They estimate this issue could sell at least another 200,000.”

Unlike the boom-and-bust sales effect seen with fans of other popular celebrities—where sales soar at the start but quickly lose steam—one week had passed, and just as everyone (including Gao Xiang and Song Wan) expected sales to plummet, the chief editor informed Gao Xiang that over 4,000 copies were still selling daily, with steady numbers.

Song Wan clicked her tongue. “We really got proved wrong.”

Gao Xiang grinned. “And it serves us right!”

They exchanged a glance and burst into laughter.

Gao Xiang’s manner shifted, and she teasingly hooked a finger under Song Wan’s chin. “Tsk, tsk. Seems a face no man can resist is indeed worth something.”

Song Wan batted her eyes coquettishly. “What, you think my figure isn’t good enough?”

Gao Xiang snorted in laughter. “You certainly know how to let loose.”

Song Wan finally let out a sigh of relief.

Though Gao Xiang had never said it, Song Wan could sense from her attitude that while she was satisfied with Song Wan’s acting, she wasn’t quite as pleased with her looks and figure—

This face might help her rise to fame quickly, but on the path to winning awards, it could become her greatest obstacle.

But neither Song Wan nor Gao Xiang was content with just being famous.

Now that Gao Xiang’s attitude had changed, Song Wan felt even more at ease.

—

[Our Lord Song has fair skin, stunning looks, and those long legs—every time I see her, I’m dazzled… Mom, call an ambulance, my nosebleed won’t stop.]

[Our Lord Song is seductive in every pose and her acting is sublime. I have just one question: who else can compare!!!]

[It’s not your fault to like someone, but if you like Lord Song, then it is your fault—she’s still lying in my bed, how dare you spread rumors that she’s yours?]

[Let go of Lord Song—she’s mine!]

[Careful up there, your husband is watching you from behind the screen. Beware—when the tide turns, the king falls.]

…

Tang Su’s face grew darker and darker as she read the comments under Song Wan’s Weibo post. Her expression was becoming increasingly grim.

“Tang Jie, we should head to makeup. Your scene is up next,” her assistant cautiously reminded her, but Tang Su’s expression was so twisted and frightening that he seemed ready to faint from sheer terror.

Tang Su turned and, seeing how timid he looked, instantly flew into a rage—

Bang— The latest model iPhone was smashed into pieces.

“Go tell the director—I’m not filming anymore!” she declared, spinning around and leaving without any regard for the entire crew waiting on her.

The assistant didn’t even feel a twinge of sympathy; he was so shaken by her sudden fury that he trembled uncontrollably. “Y-yes, I’ll tell the director right away.”

—

“What did you say? Tang Su’s sick and can’t make it?” The director’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? The whole crew’s ready, we’re just waiting for Tang Su to finish makeup so we can start shooting, and now you tell me she’s sick? Who was that sitting over there scrolling on her phone just now?”

The second female lead sneered. “I mean, could Tang Su at least make her lies convincing? Sick? She seemed perfectly happy playing with her phone just now.”

Everyone else glared daggers at the assistant, especially the producer, who looked ready to eat him alive.

“Since filming began, how many times has Tang Su taken leave? How much of the crew’s time and resources has she wasted?” The producer’s eyes blazed. “Go tell Tang Su that if she doesn’t get here soon, she can just leave for good! We’re not desperate for a female lead!”

It was the first time the assistant had been stared down by so many people; he was almost petrified with fear.

But she knew she couldn’t really blame the rest of the crew—

It had only been a week since shooting began, and Tang Su had already taken nearly ten leaves for various “accidents,” wasting an uncountable amount of resources.

In the past, no matter how outrageous Tang Su’s behavior, the crew would grit their teeth and tolerate it, even pamper her, terrified that she’d walk off in a huff. But times had changed. Ever since Boss Jin began suppressing her, Tang Su could hardly land any good roles.

If it weren’t for the existing contract and the steep penalty for breach, the production would’ve replaced her long ago.

The assistant nearly burst into tears. “I-I’ll go get Tang Jie right away.”

With that, she hurried off to the actors’ quarters.

The director let out a cold laugh. “Hah! Does she really think she’s still the award-winning queen, and everyone has to cater to her? She ought to take a good look at herself—she’s lucky she hasn’t been ruined yet.”

The second lead shot him a sideways glance. “Didn’t I say we should’ve kicked her out from the start? You insisted on keeping her.”

“How was I supposed to know she’d be this clueless?” the director spat. “She’s already under scrutiny and still refuses to behave—no idea how she clawed her way up here.”

The second lead sneered. “She had a cunning agent, and back when she was new, she wasn’t above sucking up.”

Thinking of how she’d once been suppressed by Qin Fei and Tang Su, seeing no way out, a surge of malice filled her heart—

She would make Tang Su taste what it meant to be abandoned and helpless.

—

The assistant stood outside Tang Su’s door, wracked with anxiety, not daring to knock.

But remembering the director’s threats, the assistant knew Tang Su had truly angered the entire crew this time. If she threw a tantrum and refused to show up, this hard-won opportunity might really slip away.

But Tang Su was so temperamental, the assistant didn’t dare upset her further.

After much hesitation, she called agent Qin Fei.

“Brother Qin, Tang Jie… she suddenly got angry. Her scene is next, but she… she’s gone back to the hotel.” The assistant’s voice was trembling with tears, clearly frightened out of her wits.

On the other end, Qin Fei was already at his wits’ end. Now, hearing from the assistant, he exploded. “That’s it? Why are you calling me?”

The assistant flinched at his roar, quickly explaining, “The director and producer said… they want to replace Tang Jie.”

Qin Fei: “What did you say?”

The assistant was on the verge of tears. “Since joining the crew, Tang Jie’s only shot two scenes. She’s postponed all the rest…”

“What? Is Tang Su out of her mind?”

Qin Fei was about to lose it. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Tang… Tang Jie wouldn’t let me.”

“Then why are you telling me now? Is her madness catching? Does she even have the right to throw tantrums anymore?”

Did Tang Su still think she was the untouchable leading lady?

Boss Jin hadn’t even made a serious move yet; others were still unsure of his intentions, which was why they had a little breathing room. But if they let themselves get pushed to the wall, they’d be done for.

“I swear to—!” Qin Fei swore explosively, nearly incoherent. “Put Tang Su on the phone!”

The assistant hung her head. “Brother Qin, I’m too scared…”

“You!” Qin Fei was furious, but knowing Tang Su’s temper, he could only ask, “Where are you now?”

“I’m outside Tang Jie’s room.”

“Damn it!” Remembering Tang Su’s temperament, Qin Fei suddenly calmed himself. “Why is Tang Su acting up?”

Tang Su had a bad temper, but she was skilled at putting on a façade and usually knew how to read the situation—except when it came to Han Sen.

That was why Qin Fei had been willing to support her.

And he understood Tang Su all too well. The assistant soon sniffled and told him the reason: “Tang Jie’s been scrolling Weibo lately, and every time she does, her mood turns terrible…”

Qin Fei hadn’t had time to check the internet recently and frowned. “What’s going on?”

The assistant hesitated, then quietly offered her guess. “Lately, there’s a newcomer named Song Wan who appeared on the cover of ‘Feminine Grace,’ and the sales were really good…”

Qin Fei: “…”

Crash—

Staring at his shattered phone on the floor, Qin Fei could barely contain his rage. “Song Wan again!”

—

“‘Feminine Grace’…” Hua Yu, waiting for her audition, stroked the cover on her screen, her tone unreadable.

Her agent glanced at her. “The editor-in-chief of ‘Feminine Grace’ was replaced recently, and they want to mend fences with us. They’ve sent an invitation—should we accept?”

Hua Yu gave a short laugh. “Finally replaced?”

“The person behind him was ousted.”

Hua Yu fell silent. Her agent’s eyes remained calm. “They reached out to Song Wan, hoping she’d help mediate.”

“Song Wan didn’t call.”

“She’s a clever woman, and her agent is even better informed—and happens to be an old friend of the new editor.”

Hua Yu paused. “Just one cover?”

“Three.” The agent held up two fingers. “Two covers for ‘Feminine Grace,’ and one for ‘Fashion Weekly.’”

“‘Fashion Weekly’?” Hua Yu sat up straight. “They’re willing to go that far?”

“There are conditions.” The agent’s eyes narrowed. “What they really want is Kitty. The new editor is ambitious, not content with the current state of ‘Feminine Grace,’ so they want to incorporate more fashion elements.”

Though “Feminine Grace” was a top seller domestically, its target audience meant it never had the prestige of “Fashion Weekly.” For instance, as long as a celebrity was popular, they could appear on the cover of “Feminine Grace”; but “Fashion Weekly” was in a league of its own—even if its sales lagged behind, every star in the industry wanted its cover.

If you landed a “Fashion Weekly” cover, all the doors to domestic fashion resources would swing open to you, and you’d even stand a chance on the international scene.

“Are we going?”

“Of course. Why not?” She smiled. In this industry, what obstacle couldn’t be overcome? “Shouldn’t I thank Song Wan?”

Otherwise, even if the new editor wanted to reach out, there would have been no excuse.