Chapter Eighty-three: A Change of Personnel

After hanging up the phone, Chu Muyun sent her a voice message, followed by: Good night! My girlfriend fan.

Bai Chenxi felt her cheeks flush and her heart race as she read the message. Why did the word "fan" feel so elusive? Did being a girlfriend fan really have such an impact?

But as soon as she played the voice message, all her embarrassment and fluttering heart vanished.

“I’ll be your girlfriend fan from now on, you’re my…” Bai Chenxi didn’t wait to hear the rest before shutting it off, gritting her teeth as she typed out: “You actually recorded me, you… you sly old fox.”

She tossed her phone aside as if it were a hot potato, only to regret it immediately. When she tried to delete her message, another one from Chu Muyun had already arrived.

Fox is a nice nickname, I like it very much. Good night, little rabbit.

Listening to Chu Muyun’s voice, Bai Chenxi would usually think: How can someone’s voice be so seductive?

But now, all she thought was: Truly a sly old fox, never letting up when it comes to banter. I call him a fox, and he calls me a rabbit. But foxes eat rabbits.

Bai Chenxi could only vent her frustration by kneading her pillow, murmuring, “Old fox, old fox.”

Meanwhile, the “old fox” she was cursing set down his phone with great satisfaction. Girlfriend fan—it sounded rather nice.

While some people were already deep in sleep, the drama online continued to ferment. Meng Ling had specially posted a lengthy statement, explaining that what happened was an accident, her words brimming with apologies to Mi Mu.

With an emotional PR statement and her usual public image, most people quickly believed that Meng Ling hadn’t meant any harm.

In the end, the matter concluded when Mi Mu forwarded Meng Ling’s apology. In truth, Mi Mu didn’t even have control over her own social media account.

Watching public opinion swing in her favor, Meng Ling’s lips curled into a triumphant smile. “Mi Mu, after making me suffer such a loss, I won’t let you off so easily.”

Early the next morning, as soon as Bai Chenxi arrived on set, she headed straight for Director Li.

“Good morning, Director Li! Have you had breakfast yet? If not, I brought some for you. If you have, a little more wouldn’t hurt.”

“Director Li, here’s some water.”

“Director Li, you must be tired! Let me give you a massage.”

Director Li stopped her in her tracks. “Enough, that’s plenty. You’ve only just arrived, how could you be tired already? If you have something to say, just say it.”

Bai Chenxi didn’t hold back on her flattery. “Director Li, you’re so wise!”

Director Li rolled his eyes at her. Coming over with all these pleasantries first thing in the morning—something was definitely up. He wasn’t stupid.

At his prompting, Bai Chenxi leaned in and spoke quietly, “I have a favor to ask, Director Li. You know there was an accident yesterday—the actress playing the palace maid got her face scratched? Could you keep her in the role for a while?”

She looked at Director Li with pleading eyes. “Please don’t replace her.”

Director Li glanced at her, folding his arms. “As it happens…”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Director Li pretended to be troubled. “Yesterday, Meng Ling asked if we could replace that actress. After all, she’s mainly acting opposite her, and we should respect her opinion, don’t you think?”

Bai Chenxi grew anxious. “Of course not! You’re the director, you chose every actor yourself—how could you just swap them out? Wouldn’t that be questioning your judgment?”

Director Li squinted at someone approaching and said meaningfully, “Actually, it’s not just up to me. You’ll need to ask that gentleman over there. His word is final.”

Following his gaze, Bai Chenxi saw Jiang Jize. Why was he here? She suddenly recalled Chu Muyun’s visit last time. Did this group of people all live at the film base? They just showed up whenever they pleased, and this one was here first thing in the morning.

As for Jiang Jize’s early appearance, he would never admit he’d rushed over in the middle of the night right after finishing his work.

Upon arriving, Jiang Jize looked everywhere for someone. He didn’t see Tang Ziyu, but he did notice his future sister-in-law watching him.

He walked over to greet Director Li. “Good morning, Director.”

After Director Li replied, he turned to Bai Chenxi. “Miss Bai, we meet again.”

The memory of their last encounter—when he’d left a drunken Chu Muyun with her and made a quick escape—wasn’t one Bai Chenxi wanted to recall.

“Hello, Mr. Jiang.”

Director Li looked at the two of them: Miss Bai, Mr. Jiang—what kind of address was that? Young people’s ways—he just didn’t get it.

“I’ll leave you to talk,” he said, tactfully excusing himself.

Jiang Jize glanced at the director, who hurried off as if he couldn’t be stopped, and at the curious looks around him. An ominous feeling crept in. Had people misunderstood something? What if he was doomed?

“Mr. Jiang? Mr. Jiang?” Bai Chenxi kept calling him. No wonder he and Chu Muyun were so alike—both ignored people.

Snapping out of it, Jiang Jize found himself facing his future sister-in-law and instinctively took a step back.

Bai Chenxi: ???

What? Was she really that unlikable?

Jiang Jize realized his reaction was inappropriate, but he couldn’t help it. He was afraid—after all, this was the sister-in-law Chu Muyun had spent years searching for. If he didn’t keep his distance, who knew what a man left single for so long might do?

He pulled out a chair, sat down as if nothing had happened, and said, “Please, have a seat, Miss Bai. Chu and I are like brothers—if you need anything, just say so.”

Bai Chenxi suddenly asked, “Are you real brothers?”

Seeing her so earnest, Jiang Jize couldn’t help but laugh. Where had Chu found such a treasure—she was hilarious.

Seeing Jiang Jize laughing, Bai Chenxi realized she’d misunderstood. With anyone else, she wouldn’t have thought that way, but Chu Muyun and Jiang Jize didn’t seem like mere boss and employee.

“Stop laughing,” she protested. If he kept it up, she’d want the ground to swallow her whole.

Jiang Jize was still chuckling when he spotted a figure in red in the distance, and his smile froze.

He leaned closer to Bai Chenxi. Sister-in-law, I’m counting on you!

With a deliberately doting expression, he said, “Alright, I’ll stop. What did you want to say?”

Bai Chenxi stared at him, startled. Was he suddenly possessed? His smile was… unsettling.

Forcing herself to continue, she said, “It’s about the actress who got hurt during filming yesterday—could we not replace her?”

Jiang Jize readily agreed. “Is that all? Of course. Since you asked, there’s no problem.”

Bai Chenxi smiled with delight. “Thank you! I’ll treat you to a meal sometime.”

Never before had she found Jiang Jize so agreeable.

“Great! Invite Chu too.”

“No problem,” she replied, not realizing she’d just volunteered someone else as well.

Their lively conversation drew all sorts of speculation from onlookers.

The crew saw that Jiang Jize had even come to the set, which proved how important Bai Chenxi was to him. Her standing among them rose sharply as a result.

Meng Ling, watching Jiang Jize and Bai Chenxi, almost shredded her script in frustration.

Why? Why were all the outstanding men drawn to that vixen Bai Chenxi? Were they all blind?

Tang Ziyu, peering over his sunglasses at the grinning Jiang Jize, muttered coldly, “Show-off.”

[Backstage Interlude]

Meng Ling asked her assistant, “Did you tell the crew I wanted Mi Mu fired?”

The assistant hesitated. “I did, but…”

“What happened?”

“Director Li refused. He said every actor was chosen by him and he wouldn’t agree to replace anyone.”

In truth, the assistant had softened the words. Director Li’s exact response had been: “If you want to act, act. If not, get lost. Stop making trouble. You haven’t filmed much, but you sure like to stir up drama. The people I pick—don’t you dare meddle.”