Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 60

Wang Xi gave Ran Lin a look.

Actually, there was no need for it. Ran Lin understood and immediately stood up, took the decanter, and began to pour wine for Ding Kai.

The richly colored red wine slowly filled the glass, emitting an enticing luster under the crystal glass, and as the wine reached the right amount, Ran Lin skillfully rotated the bottom of the bottle, drawing it back just in time to prevent any spillage from the mouth of the bottle.

Ding Kai raised his eyebrows slightly and spoke with a hint of surprise in his tone. “Have you trained especially for this?”

This was the first serious conversation Ding Kai had initiated with him since he arrived, though the content was rather trivial.

Pretending not to notice the slight mockery, Ran Lin responded with a natural smile, “It’s a personal hobby. I like to enjoy a bit of wine in my spare time.”

Ran Lin’s voice was gentle and casual, sounding very sincere.

Wang Xi thought to herself, ‘Keep making up your tall tales.’

Aside from socializing, Ran Lin never touched alcohol, but truth be told, when it came to drinking, Ran Lin did know his stuff and was quite professional.

After pouring for Wang Xi and himself, Ran Lin put down the bottle but didn’t sit.

This dinner was different from the last one Wang Xi attended. Last time, Wang Xi was riding on someone else’s coattails to get acquainted with Ding Kai. This time, Wang Xi was the host, introducing her artist to a potential investor. Therefore, the first toast was naturally Wang Xi’s to make, but Ran Lin also had to be involved.

Sure enough, once the wine was poured, Wang Xi stood up. “Mr. Ding, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to grace us with your presence. This first toast, Ran Lin and I would like to offer it to you.”

After finishing his sentence, Wang Xi raised her glass, and Ran Lin followed suit in a timely manner.

Ding Kai suddenly smiled, picked up his glass, but said, “Everyone sit down. I don’t like all these formalities at the dining table. Let’s just have dinner, enjoy the wine, and chat.”

Ding Kai’s voice was light and warm, at first sounding like he genuinely wanted a good conversation. But if you listened carefully, you could discern the underlying control in his tone. It wasn’t “you can have a good chat with others,” it was “I expect you to have a good chat.”

Perhaps Ding Kai truly disliked the formalities of dining tables. Ran Lin thought that in such a small gathering, without the need for pretenses, everyone could relax and enjoy as they pleased.

But of course, Wang Xi and he couldn’t just sit back down. Having already stood up, they had to finish the first toast.

Fortunately, Ding Kai didn’t stop them but only symbolically sipped a bit himself, a clear case of “you drink a full glass, I drink as I wish.”

Regardless, the meal started, and after a couple of bites, Ding Kai finally looked over. As their eyes met, Ran Lin quickly initiated a conversation. “President Ding, I heard you enjoy playing golf…”

“You need to update your sources,” Ding Kai interrupted him calmly. “I prefer basketball.”

Wang Xi internally flinched. Basketball? None of the information they had gathered mentioned this.

Ran Lin had only intended to lay the groundwork for the “real business” to follow, only to be countered immediately. But there was no time to discuss the accuracy of the information with Wang Xi, so he simply followed along, “What a coincidence. I also like basketball.”

Ding Kai had never seen such transparent flattery and deliberately asked, “What if I had just said I liked golf?”

Ran Lin, with all sincerity, replied, “Then I would have asked for your guidance, as I know nothing about golf.”

Ding Kai paused and then laughed.

He was sure that if he had just said he liked golf, Ran Lin would discuss golf as professionally as he poured wine. But now, since he preferred basketball, Ran Lin claimed to know nothing about golf. It was clear he was hedging his bets, yet doing so in a way that was amusing and hard to get angry at.

Ding Kai decided to revise his opinion—not only was this little star not stupid, but he was also quite clever.

In this circle, cleverness is common, but some turn cleverness into cunningness, while others make it endearing.

“Let’s not talk about sports. We all know why we’re here today,” Ding Kai said, gently swirling his wine as if admiring it. “Many people are vying for the lead role in <Mint Green>. You think you’re better than all of them. Give me a compelling reason.”

As his words faded, Ding Kai put down his wine glass and quietly looked at him.

Ran Lin suddenly realized the “pragmatic” label Wang Xi had was spot on; he had never encountered a financier who spoke so directly.

Wang Xi was also stunned; she thought Ding Kai would beat around the bush like last time. How did it suddenly become a straight punch?

However, opportunities don’t come twice. Without missing a beat, Wang Xi immediately chimed in, “Mr. Ding, the thing is, our Ran Lin…”

“Ms. Wang.” Ding Kai addressed her with a particularly polite title and a faint smile. “Let him speak. After all, he is the one who’s going to play the role.”

Wang Xi, hitting a soft spot, smiled awkwardly and fell silent.

Ding Kai then turned his gaze back to Ran Lin, composed and patient for an answer.

Ran Lin didn’t make him wait too long. “I don’t consider myself superior to all of them.”

Wang Xi frowned subtly.

Ding Kai smiled. It was hard to tell if he was joking or serious. “So you’re saying there’s no need to specifically choose you then?”

Ran Lin didn’t hesitate at all and sincerely said, “There are many excellent actors, and no role is absolutely meant for a specific actor, especially since I’m a newcomer. Even if I were to tell you, President Ding, that I’m the most suitable for this role and list reasons one, two, and three, at most, you would just smile.”

Ran Lin never considered himself foolish, but he also never thought he was so shrewd as to be invincible. He was still too green, and there were plenty of inscrutable people out there. When facing such unpredictable people, the only thing to do is to be honest and not try to outsmart them because they can see right through those little tricks.

So, what he told Ding Kai was the whole truth.

At most, he just made the truth sound a bit nicer, with a bit of flattery mixed in.

Wang Xi pursed her lips anxiously, unable to make any outward show of it. Ran Lin hadn’t said any of the things she had advised beforehand; instead, he was improvising. But if she were in his shoes, she’d probably improvise too—Ding Kai’s approach this time was completely different from the last and utterly unpredictable.

“You’re quite humble.” Ding Kai nodded, but then his tone shifted. “However, humility is a virtue elsewhere, but not in the entertainment industry. If you don’t have confidence in yourself, how can you expect investors to have confidence in you?”

Ran Lin was taken aback.

Wang Xi took a sip of her wine, her mind racing with thoughts of how to smooth things over.

Talking to someone like Ding Kai required full attention; the slightest distraction could lead you into a trap. Ran Lin had underestimated his opponent…

“I do have confidence in myself.” Ran Lin’s tone slightly rose.

Ding Kai narrowed his eyes, as if sizing him up, or perhaps mocking. “You just said that you’re a newcomer—that you’re not better than the others.”

“My confidence is in my ability to deliver my best performance and embrace the character. But I can’t and don’t have the right to deny other excellent actors. Saying no one but me could play the lead in <Mint Green> isn’t confidence; it’s ignorance.”

Ding Kai’s playful demeanor faded, and he became serious. “So, the question comes back: why should you be the one chosen?”

“It’s not that I must be chosen, but among the actors who could play this role well…” Ran Lin smirked slightly, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m cheaper.”

“There’s nothing to be proud of being cheap…” Ding Kai was taken aback, never having seen someone so inexplicably proud of their lower value.

“It’s indeed a bit embarrassing most of the time, but at times like this, it becomes useful,” Ran Lin admitted openly, still unabashedly proud.

Ding Kai picked up his glass, took a gentle sip, and then sighed. “You’re not like Li Yi, you’re like Li Yan.”

Ran Lin shook his head without hesitation. “I’m not nearly as perceptive as Li Yan. He’s almost transcendent.”

Ding Kai’s wrist, still holding the wine glass, froze, and he looked up in surprise. “You’ve read the original novel?”

Ran Lin then realized, Li Yan, as the protagonist’s cousin, wasn’t given much attention in the original work, although the few details depicted him as an exceptionally wise and precocious young man. However, this character was omitted from the script.

In the midst of their conversation, Ran Lin hadn’t thought much about it, but now he realized it was another trap.

Ding Kai was wasting his talents in the film industry, Ran Lin thought. The man should be out there with a shovel, loosening soil, contributing to urban greenery.

Despite his internal criticism, he replied honestly, “Yes, I’ve read it. It’s quite good.”

“And how does it compare to the script?” Ding Kai asked.

Ran Lin replied, “The novel is richer in content but not as tightly paced as the script, and the script has more humor.”

Ding Kai inquired, “How many times have you read the script?”

Ran Lin: “Huh?”

Ding Kai slowed his speech and repeated more emphatically. “I asked how many times you have read the script.”

Ran Lin, still a bit dazed, spoke the truth. “I’ve been reading it continuously…”

Ding Kai stared at him motionlessly.

Ran Lin let him look, not moving a muscle.

At this point in the meal, the other party gave off a sense of oppression for the first time, and in the long and quiet stare, Ran Lin unconsciously held his breath.

Without warning, Ding Kai suddenly softly uttered his name. “Ran Lin…”

Ran Lin was almost startled, and after a few seconds, he responded, “Hm?”

Ding Kai nodded slightly, as if affirmatively. “Quite good.”

By the end of the meal, Ran Lin still couldn’t fathom the true meaning behind those two words.

The only certainty was that, on the way back, Wang Xi’s complexion wasn’t very good. Ran Lin carefully reviewed his own performance, feeling that if not one hundred percent, at least seventy percent was achieved. He avoided all the pitfalls he could and even outperformed occasionally. He couldn’t understand why the agent was dissatisfied or from what aspect she saw a bleak future.

[I’m home.]—By the time he returned to the apartment, it was already eleven at night. The first thing Ran Lin did was send a WeChat message to Lu Yiyao, who knew he had a dinner with investors that day and was also waiting for the progress.

But the response was a video call invitation.

Ran Lin hesitated for half a second before accepting, not wanting to seem too eager.

“How did it go?” Lu Yiyao appeared to be on a hotel sofa, his background a window with tightly drawn curtains, the deep color of the curtains making the bathrobe he wore seem whiter.

“Huh?” As the answer was delayed, Lu Yiyao voiced his confusion.

Ran Lin quickly pulled his thoughts back from wanting to dive into the phone and peel off the bathrobe, cleared his throat, and seriously said, “I think it went well. There should at least be hope, but Xi Jie’s expression wasn’t very good.”

“She’s probably just being cautious, afraid of being happy for nothing too early. But…” Lu Yiyao changed his tone and said, with a hint of indulgence, “I believe in you more.”

Ran Lin raised his chin, almost looking down his nose. “You should believe in me from the start.”

Lu Yiyao nodded unenthusiastically, saying, “Fine, keep jumping around while I’m not back.”

Ran Lin glanced at him sideways. “And what can you do when you’re back?”

Lu Yiyao suddenly leaned closer to the screen, whispering softly, “What do you think I can do to you?”

Ran Lin felt a shiver down his spine, almost losing grip on his phone, yet still pretended to be capable. “Then I need to think about it…”

Lu Yiyao nodded in agreement. “Hmm, try to think without limits.”

Ran Lin admitted defeat.

Holding the phone, he collapsed into bed, his face as red as a ripe tomato. “If you keep this up, I’m going to call the police…”

Lu Yiyao looked pitifully wronged. Being in a relationship where he could only look and not touch, at most only fantasizing, he was a ruffian, but a pitiful one.

“Hey, when are you coming back?” Ran Lin suddenly asked softly.

The pitiful ruffian instantly perked up. “Missing me?”

Ran Lin stared at him unblinkingly. “Very much.”

Lu Yiyao half-opened his mouth, then closed it again, swallowing back the words he had prepared, and said with a mixture of laughter and tears, “Why aren’t you teasing me anymore.”

Ran Lin smiled wryly. “Can’t always slap without soothing, right? What if you can’t take it and run away?”

Lu Yiyao’s eyes curved down. “Then you’ll have to chase after me.”

Ran Lin thought about it and very solemnly told him, “Then I’ll only chase you for three months. Not any longer.”

“Don’t worry.” Lu Yiyao confidently and shamelessly said, “I’d agree in three days.”

Ran Lin happily smiled, feeling deeply affectionate, and gave a gentle kiss towards the phone screen.

After the kiss, the video abruptly ended—Lu Yiyao’s lips were just near the red hang-up button.

Ran Lin felt maybe even the heavens were tired of their sweetness.

But then again, during the honeymoon phase, even if it turned to syrup, it could be forgiven.

……

Ding Kai’s response came a week later.

<Sword of Fallen Flowers> had already aired over ten episodes. The plot was getting better, and viewership was climbing steadily. Many viewers considered it the most authentic wuxia drama in recent years.

When Wang Xi called, Ran Lin had just finished watching the first episode of the evening and was browsing Weibo during the commercial break.

The plot had progressed to Tang Jingyu confirming that Fang Huanzhi was his family’s murderer, only to turn around and swear brotherhood with Fang Xian, starting an unskilled but increasingly firm disguise—marking the first minor climax of the story.

Online, fans were divided into three camps: those pro-Tang, those pro-Fang, and those only interested in “Fang Tang”. The “Tang supporters” believed Tang Jingyu was justified in his actions; a familial annihilation was an unforgivable offense, and not telling Fang Xian was actually considering the brotherhood and not knowing how to broach the subject; “Fang supporters” argued that Fang Xian was innocent from the beginning, not involved in the annihilation, genuinely caring about his brotherhood, ending up as a deceived sweet fool who still thought he and Tang Jingyu were best friends, a truly heart-wrenching sight; the “Fang Tang faction” didn’t care about right or wrong, only wanting to send razor blades to the scriptwriter.

In the midst of this online battle, Ran Lin’s ranking in the celebrity search heat quietly rose, most visibly with his fan count increasing rapidly every day. The volume of comments on his Weibo was so overwhelming that he couldn’t keep up with it.

Being noticed and appreciated for his work was Ran Lin’s happiest moment.

Finally, the commercial break ended. Ran Lin exited Weibo and sat upright on the sofa, ready to continue watching, but as soon as he set his phone aside, it rang.

It was Wang Xi.

It was almost nine in the evening. Ran Lin’s first thought was that there must be some last-minute change to the schedule for tomorrow, but as soon as he answered the call, Wang Xi got straight to the point. “Ding Kai wants to have dinner with you.”

It took Ran Lin half a minute to digest this.

It wasn’t unusual for financiers to invite artists through their agents, but the fact that “Ding Kai wanted to have dinner with him” was peculiar in itself.

“He… invited me?” Ran Lin couldn’t help but ask again.

There was a moment of silence on the other end before she said, “Yes, he invited you, and only you.”

“What do you mean, only me?” It was the first time Ran Lin felt his brain was insufficient.

Wang Xi sighed. “It means even I’m not needed. Just you and him, alone, for dinner.”

Ran Lin was stunned, seeming to understand something, his heart sinking slowly.

Wang Xi, certain he would understand, didn’t continue, only waiting patiently.

Ran Lin, belatedly realizing, asked, “Xi Jie, you’ve been upset since we got back from dinner that day. Is it because of this?”

Wang Xi no longer hid her feelings. “That day I just had a bad premonition, and today it was confirmed.”

Ran Lin suddenly felt angry, but he restrained himself, not lashing out. “So it doesn’t matter how good I am in the drama, or how deeply I understand the script; ‘this dinner’ is what’s important?”

“If you’re asking me, I don’t think so.” Wang Xi analyzed objectively, without any emotion. “Someone like Ding Kai, as a financier, primarily wants to make money. Only on the premise of ensuring profit will he consider extras.”

“You mean if my acting isn’t good, if my professional skills aren’t up to par, I don’t even qualify to be exploited?”

“That’s the reality. It’s not just you who can act; others with equivalent ability who are willing to go further naturally have more opportunities.”

The television had already started airing the second episode of the evening, but whatever the actors were saying, Ran Lin couldn’t hear a word.

The entire room seemed to be muted, with only Wang Xi’s voice on the phone, cold and clear.

“You’re not suggesting I agree to it, are you?”

Wang Xi was speechless. “I’m not a pimp.”

Ran Lin was flustered, just about to ask more, when Wang Xi continued, “If you are willing and can make the sacrifice, we’ll proceed accordingly. But if you’re not, I’ll decline the offer for you. Right now, <Sword of Fallen Flowers> has good reviews and viewership. There will always be more opportunities.”

Suddenly, Ran Lin wasn’t angry anymore, just left with a wry smile. “Based on your comparison, who would choose the first option?”

“Many people,” Wang Xi said without hesitation. “This isn’t just a chance at a leading role. Getting in with Ding Kai means you won’t worry about resources in the future. It’s just…”

Wang Xi hesitated, and Ran Lin curiously asked, “Just what?”

“Just that I’ve never heard of Ding Kai keeping anyone or being involved with anyone, let alone male artists. Either he’s very secretive, or… your charm is irresistible.”

Ran Lin felt a deep sense of resignation. “That kind of praise doesn’t make one happy at all…”

After finishing the call with his agent, Ran Lin zoned out for a while.

These days, as <Sword of Fallen Flowers> steadily rose in acclaim and viewership, he thought <Mint Green> was a sure thing. But just one call scattered months of effort like the wind.

It wasn’t until the second episode ended that Ran Lin finally snapped back to reality, looking at the hoverboard in the corner, feeling a bit sorry for all the times he fell.

Just then, Wang Xi’s call came through again.

Ran Lin was now somewhat fearful of Wang Xi’s calls, always feeling like countless demons and ghosts were waiting for his agent to relay their messages.

“Xi Jie?” Ran Lin called out softly.

“What’s with that tone? I’m not some midnight horror,” Wang Xi retorted, quickly getting to the point. “I’ve declined for you.”

Ran Lin was bewildered, checking the time; it was 9:30 p.m. “You could still contact them at this hour?”

Wang Xi chuckled. “Of course, shady dealings are best done at shady times.”

Ran Lin breathed a sigh of relief. Although the opportunity was gone, having it declined felt like a weight was lifted. And it was better to make such decisions early, the sooner the stance was clear, the better…

“Fair competition.” Suddenly, those words came through the phone.

Ran Lin didn’t catch it clearly. “What?”

Wang Xi decided to give the full version. “In response to your refusal, the other side expressed genuine regret. So now you’re on the same starting line as all the other candidates. It’s going to be a fair competition.”

“What does the same starting line mean?” Ran Lin suddenly realized Ding Kai, who was already hard to understand in person, became even more enigmatic through a go-between. “All the other actors have declined him too?”

Wang Xi thought if Ding Kai heard her artist’s naive comments, he might splash red wine in anger.

“As I said before, there’s no gossip about him in the industry. This time, he might really have just taken a liking to you.”

Ran Lin looked skyward, speechless, not knowing whether to critique or curse.

However, the fact that he could return to the same starting line was indeed surprising to him. “Normally, once I’ve refused, would I still have a chance for a fair competition? Shouldn’t I be suppressed out of anger to never rise again?”

“To be honest, I’m also a bit surprised,” Wang Xi said. “But if it’s Ding Kai, it seems understandable. His primary goal is always to make money. If you can give him profits, he’ll give you the opportunity. As for the extras, if it works, great; if not, he won’t insist. After all, I guess he’s not lacking people throwing themselves at him.”

Ran Lin still felt uneasy. “<Mint Green> wouldn’t be lacking just one alternative option like me, right?”

Unexpectedly, Wang Xi mentioned, “He did say that. He appreciates your acting and wants you not to feel pressured—to just perform well during the audition.”

Ran Lin was exasperated. He wasn’t feeling any pressure in the first place, thanks to whom!

“Wait, audition?” Ran Lin finally caught the keyword.

Wang Xi said, “All the candidates for the lead male role will be auditioned by the director one by one.”

Ran Lin asked, “Are you sure it’s the director who decides?”

Wang Xi confirmed, “There are five financiers for this drama, and so far, none have insisted on any particular actor. So, it’s up to the professional director to make the final call, ensuring a fair competition, and no party has objections.”

Ran Lin’s feelings suddenly became complex.

If he had agreed to Ding Kai’s “invitation”, the lead role would probably have been his. The other potential actors might not even know what happened before being deprived of a fair chance. Conversely, more often, he might be the one oblivious, suddenly deprived of opportunities.

In this industry, things are always changing rapidly, and no one knows what the next second might bring—an opportunity or a crisis. Ran Lin thought that to strive in the entertainment circle, one really needs equanimity.

……

Ran Lin didn’t expect to run into Zhang Beichen.

Their paths seemed to always cross at audition sites, last time for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> and this time for <Mint Green>.

The difference was that last time they were competing for the second and third male leads, but this time they were both vying for the lead role.

When he arrived at the audition site, Zhang Beichen had just finished his tryout. Seeing Ran Lin, he was quite surprised, pausing for a moment before saying, “Long time no see.”

Zhang Beichen was wearing a refreshing T-shirt and casual pants, looking like a university student on campus.

Ran Lin’s outfit was somewhat similar to his; the only difference being the lighter color of his pants.

Zhang Beichen noticed too, sized him up, and said with a smile, “Our tastes are quite similar.”

Ran Lin couldn’t think of what to say and awkwardly smiled. “Mm.”

Zhang Beichen frowned in confusion, sensing something off, and asked, “Are you okay? You seem off.”

Ran Lin quickly shook his head. “No, I’m just thinking about my lines.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve met, and I’m standing right in front of you. You could at least think of me a bit,” Zhang Beichen half-teased, half-complained.

Actually, Ran Lin could have been warmer to him. He could blatantly lie in front of financiers, but facing Zhang Beichen like this, he really didn’t know what to say.

Zhang Beichen tilted his head, looked at him for a while, then suddenly smiled. “I won’t disturb you anymore. Go ahead.”

Ran Lin entered the audition site somewhat awkwardly, clutching his hoverboard.

He didn’t know why he was the one feeling awkward. It was only once he was inside that he remembered he had intended to make a cool entrance on his hoverboard, but now he looked more like a Fuwa holding a carp in a New Year picture.

After watching Ran Lin go in, Zhang Beichen’s smile faded, and he turned to face Wang Xi.

Wang Xi smiled at him and then entered the site.

But Zhang Beichen was certain. At the moment their eyes met, there was no friendliness or smile in Wang Xi’s eyes, but vigilance and wariness.

Zhang Beichen’s smile completely disappeared, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

Agent Wu Xuefeng came out after him. After Zhang Beichen’s audition, Wu Xuefeng had lingered to chat with the director. Upon coming out, he saw his artist deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Wu Xuefeng asked curiously.

Zhang Beichen didn’t immediately respond but said, “Let’s talk in the car.”

Sensing something was up, Wu Xuefeng didn’t say more, following his artist out until they got into the car. As the driver merged into the flow of traffic, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Zhang Beichen pondered for a few seconds, then said, “They might have found out.”

Wu Xuefeng, having seen Ran Lin and Wang Xi at the site, quickly understood but thought his artist’s reaction was somewhat amusing. “It’s been so long; what does it matter if they know? Are they going to dredge up old grievances?”

Sometimes Zhang Beichen really disliked Wu Xuefeng’s dismissive attitude, so he didn’t bother explaining further, just looked out the window with complex emotions, hard to define.

“I spoke to the director.” Wu Xuefeng still felt this matter was more important. “He said you did well.”

Zhang Beichen twitched the corners of his mouth and said lightly, “What, is he supposed to say in front of you that your artist was no good?”

“No, no, this time you really were good. I was quite engrossed when you were acting,” Wu Xuefeng complimented, then remembered something with a smile. “Mr. Qin really knows his stuff. A little guidance from him, and you’ve improved so much.”

Zhang Beichen found the comment irritating and retorted. “I’ve been devouring the script and the original work for two months. It wasn’t just a few casual suggestions that made me leap forward.”

Wu Xuefeng was taken aback by the retort, then laughed. “I was just saying; no need for the temper.”

Zhang Beichen hated this most about Wu Xuefeng—it was like punching cotton. No matter how angry you got, it didn’t land.

“But there’s something I don’t understand,” Wu Xuefeng continued, “If you had Mr. Qin vie for this audition slot for you, why not just have him secure the lead role directly?”

Zhang Beichen scoffed. “What? Do you think I’m his dad? If I want the lead role, he’ll just give it to me? Besides, he’s not a financier for this drama. Just having a fair chance to compete is good enough.”

Wu Xuefeng shrugged, making no further comment.

The relationship between Zhang Beichen and Mr. Qin had already surpassed him, so only his artist knew the extent of their association. Mr. Qin might not be a financier for this drama, but if he were willing to exert influence, the financiers would consider his opinion. However, to get Mr. Qin to put in even a little effort, his own artist would have to exert much more, and clearly, Zhang Beichen wasn’t inclined to do so.

……

Mountain Stream: [Damn, this is too cruel. Tang Jingyu is inhumane. 😭😭😭]

Heartless and Guiltless: [I’m taking Fang Xian away. Do whatever you want!! 😭😭😭]

Fang Tang Haters Club: [I’ll forever hate Tang Jingyu! Starting today, I’m Fang Xian’s toxic supporter*!!!]

*Refers to fans who only like one member of an idol group and hate all the other members. Nowadays, it generally refer to fanatics who only like their idol and harm other artists.

Love of Yao: [Am I the only one who feels sorry for Tang Jingyu? He didn’t know Haikong would poison them… 😭]

Shivering Official Pair Party: [Um, I feel sorry for Tang Jingyu, but I feel sorrier for Zhao Buyao… Why does the official pairing feel like a cult! 😭😭😭]

Daring to Steal Immortal Elixir from Yao Pond: [Ran Lin’s performance as Fang Xian is so good! It’s heartbreaking! From black fan to passerby fan to super fan to mom fan*!!]

*Clarity: There are many fan types among the fandom. A mom fan is someone who looks at their star as a mother. Generally these are much older ladies (aunties), thus they are considered “moms”.

Waiting for the Blossoming Flowers: [Fang Xian is really too good, too good. When he scolded Haikong saying, “You expect me to trust you over my brother?” my heart shattered into pieces… Haven’t cried watching TV in years, the scriptwriter and actors are all poisonous 💧💧💧]

In the dressing room, Lu Yiyao browsed Weibo while the stylist blow-dried his hair.

The noise of the hairdryer didn’t affect his good mood at all.

<Sword of Fallen Flowers> aired its 30^th episode yesterday—the martial arts convention, Fang Huanzhi’s poisoning, Haikong’s framing, and Fang Tang’s split.

The steadily growing viewership exploded.

Online, many criticized the plot as clichéd but were still deeply moved, cursing the scriptwriter while clutching their chests, some even wiping away tears.

Many professional critics gave a similar analysis—the plot may not be particularly astonishing, but the actors’ performances and the quality of the episodes almost entirely made up for the script’s shortcomings. Moreover, the drama captured the long-lost essence of the martial arts world. The promotional phrase “Long-lost chivalrous tenderness, poetically depicted world of martial arts, deep conspiracies, all culminating in a sword amidst falling flowers” was indeed not an exaggeration.

Lu Yiyao had anticipated this response when he finished filming the drama, but now that the day had come, with the entire internet praising Ran Lin’s acting and empathizing with Fang Xian, he suddenly felt the happiness of his treasure being recognized.

An overwhelming happiness.

So happy that even when he saw comments cursing Tang Jingyu and criticizing his own acting, he wanted to reply with a “kiss kiss”.

Yao Hong watched her artist grinning while browsing Weibo and knew he must have seen more praise for Ran Lin. Ever since he successfully pursued his love interest and started a relationship, he hadn’t had a single day of coolness.

Thankfully, he still maintained his composure during appearances, whether on stage, recording shows, or attending various events. He remained as handsome as ever, eliciting screams, and continued to be professional and dedicated.

But in private, like now, Yao Hong could think of no other word than “silly” to describe him.

She understood that it was the honeymoon phase, where one’s head tends to be a bit heated, but she worried that this wasn’t just a phase and that her artist might continue to be this smitten. The thought alone made Yao Hong despair.

Her artist, done with styling, handed his phone to the assistant and cheerfully went to record.

It was already 11 p.m., and the brief rest was just for a touch-up. With the current pace, they were likely to record until the early hours. But Lu Yiyao’s spirits were as high as if he had just woken up.

“What’s up?” Seeing the assistant staring at Lu Yiyao’s now-dark phone screen, Yao Hong asked curiously.

The makeup artist had just left, and only the two of them remained in the room. Li Tong looked up, seemingly emotional. “Hong Jie, how come Lu Ge likes… you know, that person so much.”

Being cautious about eavesdroppers, he was careful with his words.

Yao Hong appreciated his vigilance but had no answer to his question.

Li Tong didn’t really expect an answer from Yao Hong. Leaning back in his chair, he sighed dramatically. “I wish I could fall in love too—”

Yao Hong gave him a look, unable to bear it.

Yet her mood didn’t lighten.

Turning on her phone, she re-entered the WeChat group, looking at the latest gossip coming out, her mind in turmoil.

……

Lu Yiyao’s recording session lasted until 2 a.m., and he almost slept the entire way back to the hotel, only to be woken up by Li Tong upon arrival.

He didn’t feel the fatigue while recording, but once he took a short nap and was woken up, all the exhaustion hit him at once, making his steps back to his room a bit unsteady.

He had planned to take a quick shower and continue sleeping, but instead of Li Tong, Yao Hong followed him into his room.

“Hong Jie?” Lu Yiyao, mustering energy, looked at his agent in confusion.

Yao Hong had been conflicted the entire way about whether to speak up or not. There was no solid proof, but concerning Lu Yiyao, even the slightest possibility warranted her not wanting him to remain unaware.

“Ran Lin is likely to play the lead male role in <Mint Green>.” Yao Hong didn’t beat around the bush and directly said, “The contract has already been drawn up, and it should be sent to Dream Without Limits in a couple of days.”

“Really?” Lu Yiyao was surprised. After a few incidents, he had come to deeply trust Yao Hong’s information network. Often, she would find out things before the parties involved did. Yao Hong was a significant force behind his “bearer of good news” persona. “If it’s confirmed, I need to tell him right away.”

Yao Hong nodded. “The investor was originally fond of him, and after the audition, the director was also very satisfied.”

Lu Yiyao felt something was off.

Yao Hong’s voice was steady and neutral, not necessarily excited because of Ran Lin’s news, but it didn’t seem like her usual calm either, more like she was holding back.

“Hong Jie, just say what you want to say. We don’t need to consider so much between us,” Lu Yiyao said earnestly.

After a long pause, Yao Hong looked up and said, “Investor Ding Kai and Ran Lin had dinner together. It was through him that Ran Lin got the chance to audition, and… he probably conveyed some messages to Ran Lin.”

Lu Yiyao frowned. “What do you mean?”

Yao Hong looked at him squarely. “What you’re thinking. Trading certain things for the lead role.”

Lu Yiyao asked, “You mean Ran Lin agreed to Ding Kai’s terms, and that’s why he got the contract?”

Yao Hong hesitated before saying, “All we can confirm is that Ding Kai conveyed some message. As for the content of the message and Ran Lin’s response, only the two of them know.” After a moment, Yao Hong added, “Or maybe Wang Xi knows too.”

Lu Yiyao’s voice was calm and steady. “So there’s no solid proof?”

“But it is true that Ding Kai, like you, also likes men,” Yao Hong said. “Although not many in the circle know, and he’s quite low-key with not much gossip, there are no secrets in this world.”

Lu Yiyao nodded. “Alright, I understand.”

Yao Hong suddenly regretted bringing it up. She didn’t want to slander anyone, but she also couldn’t stand by and watch Lu Yiyao be deceived. “Perhaps it’s not as bad as I think. There might be things I don’t know. I’m just deducing from the norm that Ding Kai conveyed a message, and Ran Lin got the lead role, which naturally leads one to connect the two. But on the other hand, if there’s really nothing between them, time will reveal the truth. I believe time reveals a person’s heart.”

“No need, Hong Jie.” Lu Yiyao looked at his agent calmly. “I knew about the dinner between Ran Lin and Ding Kai, but I didn’t know about the things you mentioned. However, I believe if Ding Kai conveyed any message, the only possible response he would have gotten is rejection.”

Yao Hong was prepared to face Lu Yiyao’s anger, as no one in love likes to hear bad things about their partner.

But Lu Yiyao wasn’t in a hurry to refute angrily. He was calm, composed, and confident. He might be puzzled by the facts, but his trust in his partner was unwavering.

For the first time, Yao Hong felt her artist had grown up and was no longer the naive young man she thought he was.

“Do you trust him that much?”

“In this world, there may be no secrets,” Lu Yiyao said with a hint of pride curving his lips. “But Ran Lin is impervious to all poisons.”

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