Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 2

“Wait here first. We’ll shoot Han Ze first and then you,” Kang Hui briefly instructed before diving into the sea of youth with his team.

The big screen showed that the flight had arrived.

Since it was a flight rescheduled at the last minute, the company had limited time to prepare, and with the three of them needing makeup and styling, they managed to arrive just in time despite rushing. Originally, the plan was to shoot them first, but now they had to prioritize Han Ze’s schedule.

Kang Hui was the common agent for the three of them, but not for Han Ze. After noticing Han Ze’s potential for stardom, the company hired Wang Xi, a top agent who had just left Pentium Times Media Group, as Han Ze’s agent. Subsequently, she naturally became the head of the agent department at Dream Without Limits.

Pentium Times Media was one of the most influential media groups in the country, with excellent platforms and resources, and its agents were among the best in the industry. However, for unknown reasons, Wang Xi left without taking any artists with her, citing “philosophical differences”.

This was followed by Han Ze’s sudden rise to fame.

He Jiayi always liked to say behind the scenes that Han Ze was just lucky, while Chen Ling, the youthful rebel, didn’t care much about anyone.

But Ran Lin thought differently. With the same resources, some became famous while others didn’t. It might be a matter of timing or talent. Instead of envying others, it was better to focus on oneself.

Of course, that was his motivational talk last year. This year, he was a negative energy boy, unable to muster the same enthusiasm.

Wang Xi probably knew Lu Yiyao, as the latter’s studio, though nominally independent, was actually affiliated with Pentium Times Media, making him technically an artist of Pentium Times Media. Despite Wang Xi not being Lu Yiyao’s agent, they belonged to the same company and probably knew each other, even if they only met once a year at the annual meeting. Moreover, Wang Xi was likely familiar with Lu Yiyao’s agent.

It must be a mixed feeling for Xi Jie*, now with her new company’s artist competing against her former company’s colleague and artists (at the international arrival exit). Especially since Lu Yiyao was currently on a roll, overshadowing Han Ze.

*Sister (姐). Term used to show respect and affection towards someone who is female and is either older or holds a higher position or authority. Usually, it signifies closeness or a friendly relationship.

Ran Lin didn’t know Lu Yiyao personally, but he always saw him—on TV and Weibo.

Especially this year, which was a big breakthrough year for Lu Yiyao.

Although that person had a few memorable film and TV roles in the previous two years, it wasn’t until this year that he truly shined. With leading roles in the TV dramas <Ten Years of Rainy Night> and <Yun Zhang>, and the film <Beihai Tree> all released in the same year.

Both TV dramas aired in March and April, back to back, on the same two networks. For a time, jokes were made online that turning on the TV meant seeing Lu Yiyao.

Both dramas were based on popular IPs and targeted young audiences. While <Night> received mediocre reviews, <Yun> was highly acclaimed, resulting in a positive aftereffect for both shows. Their high ratings also demonstrated Lu Yiyao’s value, outperforming most IP dramas of the same period and even the previous year.

For fans, it was about idolizing the person.

For investors, it was about the return on investment.

Lu Yiyao excelled in both aspects, making it only natural for him to rise to fame.

As the saying goes, good things come in pairs, but for Lu Yiyao, favored by fortune, good things come in threes.

In June, just as his popularity was surging from the two TV shows, his film <Beihai Tree> was released. Although it was a niche art film with modest box office returns, it received critical acclaim and was nominated in a major category at an international A-list film festival in August.

Now, just after National Day, Lu Yiyao had returned home in glory, having walked the red carpet at the festival and gained international recognition.

Despite only winning Best Cinematography among the three nominations, a nomination for Best Actor at an internationally recognized festival was enough to make Lu Yiyao stand out among his peers, shedding his idol image, elevating to a serious actor, and making a grand transition to a film star.

In terms of earning potential, films may not be as profitable as TV dramas, but in terms of prestige, the big screen was always the ultimate goal for stars.

Many popular TV actors become box office poison when they move to films. By establishing a firm footing on the big screen, Lu Yiyao had already outpaced his contemporaries.

He was only twenty-four this year.

Just a year older than Ran Lin.

“Ahhhhh—”

“Han Ze! Han Ze!”

“Ahhhh—”

The fans’ screams, as if gathering strength all night, almost lifted the roof of Terminal 3.

Ran Lin, who had been enviously daydreaming about Lu Yiyao’s success, was startled by the screams.

The international arrival exit was packed, and all the young men and women who came for Han Ze, as well as some for Lu Yiyao but also casual fans of Han Ze, started screaming.

Ran Lin and the others stayed on the outskirts, unnoticed, even though they looked incredibly handsome.

Han Ze had already come out, not wearing a hat, sunglasses, or a mask, which meant he was in great condition and confident enough to face the candid shots of his true fans.

And indeed, he was.

In a clean, sharp trench coat, his stride seemed to create a breeze. His hair was casual yet stylish, and his handsome face, smiling all the way, showed no signs of travel fatigue, radiating vitality and warmth.

Han Ze’s popularity was no fluke.

Elegant in costume drama and dashing in modern attire, his presence alone captivated the audience. This was a gift from the heavens.

As Han Ze moved out, part of the crowd followed him, creating a chaotic mix of screams, footsteps, and shoving.

Kang Hui was quickly swallowed up by the crowd, but Xi Jie, who had been following Han Ze, and the photographer who came with them remained conspicuous. However, most fans and entertainment journalists were still waiting for Lu Yiyao.

Han Ze’s figure became increasingly distant in the throng of fans, soon about to leave the terminal building.

He Jiayi voiced his concern. “Are we just going to wait here foolishly? Looking at this, that kid will probably just hop into the company car and leave as soon as he’s out of the terminal. Will the photographer even come back to take our photos? And after that, do we just take a taxi home in the middle of the night?”

Chen Ling, irritated by the airport’s no-smoking policy, didn’t bother to respond, yawning continuously.

Ran Lin actually didn’t want to bother with him either, as this colleague of his always had a straightforward way of thinking. Seeing He Jiayi getting restless, Ran Lin had to put an arm around his neck in a brotherly gesture and explained, “Don’t worry, there are so many people with Han Ze. Even if we clear the space, that small broken car won’t fit all of us. The company must have already arranged a car to wait for us.”

He Jiayi froze, then after a moment, he nodded in realization. “Makes sense!” He continued looking at Ran Lin, adding, “You’ve got a sharp mind, kid.”

Ran Lin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, feeling that the compliment wasn’t quite fulfilling.

“Ahhhhhhhh—”

“Lu Yiyao Ahhhhhh—”

“Ahhhh I love you—”

It was unknown who shouted first, but after that, the noise level never went down.

If Han Ze’s fans almost overturned the terminal, Lu Yiyao’s fans completely did. Thankfully, the hall didn’t allow parking, or else the alarms would be blaring now.

Compared to Han Ze, Lu Yiyao was fully equipped with a hat, mask, and sunglasses, keeping his head down and swiftly walking out, surrounded by staff. He didn’t even offer a smile to his fans who came to pick him up. His speed was almost supernatural, as if he was escaping.

Ran Lin felt somewhat disappointed.

He had wanted to see the real person.

Lu Yiyao in TV dramas was exactly his type—with sharp eyebrows and charming eyes, appearing cold when not smiling, but usually wearing a faint smile. In historical dramas, he was an elegant young master, his fringe tied into his hair bun, exuding restrained passion; in modern dramas, he was a playful boyfriend, his fringe down, fresh and sunny.

What a pity.

Ran Lin sighed silently in his heart. He Jiayi, who had just freed himself from Ran Lin’s arm, was watching the crowd following their “male god” with a complex expression.

Being in the same entertainment industry, the impact of such unequal treatment was huge. Unless one had a will of steel, it was hard to stay unaffected.

The hall returned to silence. The international arrival exit was now completely empty, with a piece of a light sign lying on the ground. It had only the word “Yao” still flashing, probably dropped in the earlier commotion.

Ran Lin decided to pick up the light sign—after all, it was a busy exit, and such an object lying on the ground seemed unsafe. But upon picking it up, he started regretting it.

He hadn’t thought much about it initially, just considering it a simple act of environmental care. However, holding the light sign, he realized it wasn’t disposable like cheering lightsticks. This well-made sign could last a year or two if well-preserved.

In his first year in the entertainment industry, Ran Lin had occasionally seen fans holding light signs to pick him up at the airport. The number was, of course, incomparable to Lu Yiyao, but whether it was ten fans or a hundred thousand, each fan’s feelings were the same. Probably no one liked to see the light sign they made to support their idol thrown in the trash.

Wait a minute.

Perhaps inspired by the flickering light sign, Ran Lin suddenly sensed something amiss. He looked up at the big screen above the exit. Sure enough, although the flights from Han Ze’s fashion week and Lu Yiyao’s film festival city both showed as having arrived, there was a fifteen-minute gap between their arrival times. Even if Lu Yiyao was fast, luggage delivery always followed the flight order. How could he have come out right after Han Ze?

A commotion from behind caught Ran Lin’s attention. The gossip journalists who had followed the fans in pursuit of “Lu Yiyao” were now hurrying back!

Ran Lin widened his eyes in disbelief and looked back at the international arrival exit. Although he had a vague idea of what was happening, he found Lu Yiyao’s trickery astounding.

Roll, roll, roll—

The sound of rolling luggage approached.

The first to come out was a group from the Sunset Red International Travel Group. Despite it being late at night, the elderly tourists were still enthusiastically discussing their trip. Then came a few foreigners, followed by young students…

About six or seven minutes later, the flow of people slowed down, and finally, the exit was quiet and empty again.

It seemed like all the passengers from the flight had left.

But Ran Lin, glancing at the media still waiting around, firmly believed his guess was correct.

Roll, roll, roll—

Here they come.

Ran Lin looked up, fixating on the exit, not sure why he was so determined nor whether he wanted to verify his guess or see the real Lu Yiyao, who could come up with such a cunning plan.

Lu Yiyao wore black casual pants, a dark gray pullover knit sweater with a white shirt underneath, the collar peeking out, and the hem casually loose. Unlike Han Ze’s meticulous preparation, Lu Yiyao seemed more casual, his hair slightly messy from the journey, adding a lazy charm to his relaxed style.

However, his bare face and the fleeting look of astonishment on the faces of the entertainment reporters as he walked out betrayed him.

This person must have anticipated that his “stand-in” would draw everyone away.

Ran Lin was sure of it.

His lips uncontrollably curved upwards, as Ran Lin could almost imagine in his mind Lu Yiyao’s internal monologue at this moment, surely filled with words that would be bleeped out on television.

But this man was quick to adapt, or perhaps he had good self-control, quickly hiding his annoyance and wearing a gentle smile in his eyes.

The sound of clicking cameras was incessant.

Lu Yiyao allowed them to take photos generously.

Ran Lin thought that he must have figured that since it had come to this, it was better to be graceful than to appear disheveled.

Some eager reporters began asking questions, their phones set to record almost pushed into his mouth, mostly about the film festival, and a few bold ones directly asked about scandals.

His agent, Yao Hong, was with him from beginning to end but didn’t overshadow him. She seemed very confident in Lu Yiyao, not hastily intervening even when scandalous questions were asked. Unlike the always impeccably made-up Wang Xi, who was sharp and efficient, this woman in her forties appeared gentler and simpler, not like a strong woman, but more like an elder sister.

Her confidence wasn’t without reason—Lu Yiyao deftly handled the scandal-related questions, even managing to make the reporters laugh.

Ran Lin, standing close by, heard everything clearly and instantly realized that this was a response Lu Yiyao had prepared well in advance, just waiting for someone to walk into his trap so he could display his wit.

After answering about five or six questions, Yao Hong finally spoke up, expressing gently to the reporters the artist’s need to return and rest soon.

The reporters, rarely encountering an artist’s team willing to negotiate, empathized and slowly cleared a path. Of course, they continued to take photos, trying to capture as much material as possible.

Ran Lin also stepped aside with the reporters.

Lu Yiyao, in person, was even more charismatic than on TV. Ran Lin, from a purely appreciative perspective, felt his trip that evening wasn’t in vain.

Huh?

Lu Yiyao looked over without warning and Ran Lin didn’t have time to look away.

Their eyes met.

Initially preparing to leave quickly with his manager and assistant, Lu Yiyao suddenly walked towards Ran Lin.

Ran Lin was instantly nervous. Before he could react, Lu Yiyao had already put an arm around his shoulder, smiling brightly. “Thank you for coming to pick me up.”

It’s not you, but rather you guys. At this moment, Ran Lin represented all the fans and fangirls who were roaring like a tidal wave.

Ran Lin looked at Lu Yiyao, then at the light sign in his hand, suddenly feeling despondent.

On one hand, Lu Yiyao posed with him for the press.

On the other hand, the entertainment reporters understood immediately and snapped away.

Ran Lin swallowed and could only manage an awkward but polite smile.

The character “Yao” on the light sign flashed in front of the camera, speaking for the holder’s endless love for his idol.

Lu Yiyao might have had a moment of conscience, feeling that his earlier trick wasn’t very honorable, so he repaid his surviving fan holding the light sign with full apologies, or it could have been an act, playing the role of a star who loves his fans. But regardless of which, Ran Lin felt he was at a loss…

“Are you… Ran Lin?”

Finally, one of the more knowledgeable reporters recognized this eighteenth-tier male star.

“It really is Ran Lin!”

“So, you’re also a fan of Lu Yiyao, haha!”

“Did you enter the entertainment industry just to chase stars?”

“That’s so inspiring!”

“Ran Lin, say something…”

The focus of the media shifted from Lu Yiyao to Ran Lin, and the reporters relaxed a lot more.

But Ran Lin didn’t want to speak.

He just wanted to smash the light sign at everyone.

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