Suddenly Trending Ch42

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 42

The intersection of actors and roles are two different matters.

In the play, Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao hadn’t been acquainted until they fought, forming a pair of joyous enemies. Although they didn’t end up as lovers, Zhao Buyao remained the cinnabar mole* in Fang Xian’s heart, and Fang Xian continued to be the only friend Zhao Buyao could speak to without any reservations.

*It’s a metaphorical way of saying how she remains a beautiful love in his heart forever, similar to how a cinnabar mole (a birthmark that is often associated with beauty) stays with you forever.

However, offstage, Ran Lin had just left the 18th-tier and was striving to climb to the 3rd or 4th-tier as a minor actor, while Xi Ruohan was a mid-level actress who only played leading female roles. It was difficult for the two to have any relationship.

Moreover, Xi Ruohan hadn’t shown her face since checking into the hotel, and the next day, she was taken to the set by a private car with an independent dressing and makeup room. So, it wasn’t until 10:30 in the morning, when the first scene with Zhao Buyao started shooting, that Ran Lin, who had been in makeup for two and a half hours, finally saw Xi Ruohan on set.

In the play, Zhao Buyao had been adopted by the master of Liuhua Palace since childhood. She was beautiful as an angel, stunning, but with the personality of a boy, loving to read and practice martial arts. Bored in the monotonous days in Liuhua Palace, she volunteered to go to Liuma Town to investigate the reappearance of the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. The master of Liuhua Palace had no choice but to agree.

Today’s shooting was about Tang Jingyu, Fang Xian, and Xu Chongfei, who had become sworn brothers, coming to the righteous inn in Liuma Town to find clues, but unexpectedly encountering Zhao Buyao, who was also there. It was also the first meeting of these four characters in the play.

Except for Xu Chongfei, who was just a spectator.

The rest of them, upon first sight, made a lifelong mistake.

When Xi Ruohan appeared, Ran Lin, Lu Yiyao, and Tang Xiaoyu were resting on chairs, with other supporting actors and extras moving around in twos and threes, while the crew members were busy setting up the scene and adjusting the lights.

The scene was chaotic, with people moving back and forth—modern and ancient costumes mixing together—creating a subtly disorienting feeling of being in a time warp.

Xi Ruohan, no, Zhao Buyao, made her way through the crowd, gracefully approaching.

Like described in the Book of Songs, her hands were soft, her skin like cream, her neck like a beautiful worm, her teeth like a melon’s seeds, her forehead like a moth’s brow, her mischievous smile enchanting, and her eyes full of longing.

That was Zhao Buyao in a water-colored dress.

Ran Lin stood up in awe, along with Lu Yiyao, while Tang Xiaoyu seemed to be so captivated that he remained motionless in his lounge chair.

Xi Ruohan didn’t pick on this third male lead.

To be exact, she didn’t even glance at Tang Xiaoyu and Ran Lin but walked straight to Lu Yiyao, smiling sweetly in the breeze that fluttered her hair.

“Yaoyao.”

Xi Ruohan’s voice was as clear as jade colliding—not loud, but clear to the ear, revealing her solid foundation in lines.

Lu Yiyao was accustomed to this, showing neither awe nor admiration, only a resigned “It’s still the same old you”. “Long time no see.”

Xi Ruohan glared at him, her eyes coquettishly angry. “Didn’t we just meet last night?”

Lu Yiyao was exasperated, not sure what to think, and subconsciously looked towards Ran Lin.

The latter, originally waiting to finish their conversation to greet the female lead, was startled by these words. Seeing Lu Yiyao looking back at him, he instinctively avoided eye contact and went straight to pull Tang Xiaoyu. “Classmate Xiaoyu*, snap out of it.”

*Clarity: He’s calling him by his nickname (Little Fish), not his first name. Given that in pinyin they literally are the same letters, it would be hard to distinguish this in translation, but generally, Ran Lin and others wouldn’t call him by just his first name (since they’re not super close). Just note, if you see just Xiaoyu by itself, it’s referring to his nickname.

Tang Xiaoyu was indeed distracted. He had seen many actresses in ancient costumes, but many, despite their beauty, still looked like modern people in ancient garb, with a beautiful appearance but lacking classical charm. Xi Ruohan was different; her ancient costume and every smile genuinely transported people back to an ancient, ink-painted world.

Alerted by Ran Lin, Tang Xiaoyu came back to his senses and immediately stood up, displaying the demeanor expected of a well-mannered third male lead.

However, his heart was still fluctuating because, before this, he had only seen Xi Ruohan in modern attire at certain events. While those modern styles were charming in their own way, perhaps due to Tang Xiaoyu’s personal preference, he felt they couldn’t compare to the Zhao Buyao before him.

Seeing Ran Lin not paying much attention and fearing making things worse, Lu Yiyao simply skipped the topic of that imaginative night-time meeting and went back to the original form of address. “Just call me Lu Yiyao.”

It wasn’t like this in the last crew. Lu Yiyao didn’t know how Xi Ruohan had developed this new way of addressing him during their time apart.

“That sounds too formal,” Xi Ruohan said innocently, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think Yaoyao is nice. Yaoyao, Yaoyao, Yaoyao…”

“That’s what my mom calls me at home.”

“Cough… cough cough…”

Xi Ruohan was caught off guard and choked on her own words.

The makeup artist nearby looked desperate and, as soon as the female lead stopped coughing, immediately came over to touch up her makeup.

Lu Yiyao tried to hold back his laughter, feeling clear and refreshed inside.

Tang Xiaoyu shook his head secretly, thinking the male lead was really bad.

Ran Lin couldn’t see through the two of them. It didn’t seem like they had a private affair, as Xi Ruohan wasn’t only enthusiastic but also spoke with hidden meanings; yet, Lu Yiyao was too calm, not seeming like it at all.

“Teachers.” The director’s assistant came running over, obviously trying to make the most of every minute. “We can start over there now.”

The four of them became serious, no longer joking, and quickly walked towards the center of the camera.

The scene they were about to shoot was set in a “righteous mansion*” and was a night scene.

*A temporary coffin depository where the coffins containing the cadavers of recently deceased people are temporarily stored while awaiting transport to the place of burial. Its literal meaning is “mansion of the righteous” and originally referred to any charitable organization. These charities were typically established by prominent families to promote their standing in the community. In later 19th century, it became a euphemism for “coffin home” or “morgue”.

The three swordsmen, having just sworn brotherhood, followed clues to the righteous mansion on the northern outskirts of Liuma Town, intending to find the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual, but were met with an unexpected turn of events.

In the vast “righteous mansion”, silent and eerie, moonlight shone through the window lattice, casting mottled shadows on the coffins like frost, giving off a chill.

Tang Jingyu, Fang Xian, and Xu Chongfei stood still amidst it, not daring to make a move, and looked around cautiously.

“Are you sure the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual is here?” Fang Xian’s voice trembled, showing his awe of the supernatural. “Do we really have to go through every coffin?”

“Let’s search the walls, corners, and beams first. If not, I’m afraid we’ll have to check the coffins,” Tang Jingyu said, his eyes deep and alert, feeling that things weren’t simple.

Fang Xian swallowed and gently patted Xu Chongfei’s shoulder. “Third Brother*, such meticulous work like checking coffins is perfect for you.”

*[San Di] (三弟) Younger brother in this case. In groups of male friends, especially since these three have sworn brotherhood, they are sometimes addressed according to their rank (which can either be by age or social ranking within the group).

Xu Chongfei glanced at the young master of the Fang Clan, sincerely saying, “You really are my good Second Brother.”

Being only half a month younger, Xu Chongfei had become the ‘third brother’ and had to respect Fang Xian, this unserious ‘second brother’, according to the Confucian five relationships*, with no place to argue.

*Set of key relationships articulated by Confucius, known as the five cardinal relationships (ruler and subject, father and son, elder and younger brother, husband and wife, between friends).

“There’s someone!” Fang Xian, not good at handling coffins but sharp-eared, shouted.

Following his yell, a water-colored figure swiftly emerged from behind a coffin!

“Cut! Over—”

Ran Lin breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked at Xi Ruohan, standing a few meters away, getting her costume adjusted by the stylist, feeling a bit nervous.

The scene they had just rehearsed was only a warm-up. The next one, where he would really interact with Xi Ruohan, was the real deal.

Today’s shoot was all set in this “righteous mansion”. Setting up such a scene required significant resources, so once set up, all the indoor scenes had to be completed.

They were shooting the dialogue scenes in the morning, and in the afternoon, the action scene team would come to finish all the action sequences in this setting.

Like the scene where Zhao Buyao jumps out, naturally, Fang Xian would have to confront her, and that part was scheduled for the afternoon.

Next, they were to shoot the scene where Fang Xian, having subdued Zhao Buyao, and his brothers interrogate her about her identity. Naturally, the amorous Young Master Fang, of course, had to take the lead.

Ran Lin actually wanted to interact with Xi Ruohan before the scene, even just some small talk, but she hadn’t even glanced at him from start to finish, either looking at the script handed over by her assistant or at Lu Yiyao, which fit her reputation for being a “difficult young lady”.

“What are you thinking about?” Lu Yiyao, who had finished touching up his makeup, came over unnoticed and asked Ran Lin, who was standing in a quiet corner, lost in thought.

“Nothing.” Ran Lin quickly averted his gaze, as quickly as if he had been caught red-handed.

Following Ran Lin’s previous line of sight, Lu Yiyao’s eyes locked onto Xi Ruohan, his brow furrowing slightly, unsure of his feelings, and commented, “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?”

Ran Lin turned abruptly, disbelievingly looking at Lu Yiyao, his first thought being that this man was about to declare a romance!

Seeing Ran Lin’s expression, Lu Yiyao quickly clarified in a low but fast voice. “There’s nothing between us.”

Ran Lin was genuinely confused; his usually quick mind always seemed to freeze when facing Lu Yiyao, unable to analyze the situation and just following along with this man’s various behaviors and statements.

But Teacher Lu’s behavior was very unstable, often unpredictable—maybe flirting one moment and then straight-laced the next. One moment he seemed ambiguous with the actress, and the next, he was a straightforward, upright young man. Ran Lin thought he was probably the only one who could keep up with Teacher Lu’s pace, as anyone else might have given up midway.

Wait a minute.

Ran Lin pursed his lips, realizing he had already decided to give up… When had he gotten back on track?

“Last night she brought me some local specialties. After all, it’s our second collaboration, so we had to break the ice beforehand.”

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

“Actually, you don’t need to explain to me.”

“But your expression clearly showed you misunderstood.”

“It’s okay to misunderstand. You’re both single, and she really is beautiful.”

“It doesn’t matter if others misunderstand, but you’re my friend, and I need to clarify things with you.”

“……”

That’s it! This “you’re my friend, you’re important to me” attitude was trapping him in a world of unrequited love… Lu Yiyao, you fiend!!!

“You still don’t believe me?” Lu Yiyao looked at Ran Lin somewhat helplessly, feeling he couldn’t find more convincing words.

Ran Lin quickly shook his head. If nothing else, Lu Yiyao was absolutely a role model in sincerity towards friends. “No, I believe you.”

Lu Yiyao skeptically raised an eyebrow. “Then why does your expression look like you’re still cursing me?”

Ran Lin was embarrassed, quickly hiding his “it’s all your fault for my unrequited love” emotions and putting on a bright smile.

Lu Yiyao unconsciously stepped back, saying seriously, “You might as well scold me. A hidden knife in a smile is scarier.”

Amidst the joking, the set was ready, and the next scene was about to start shooting!

Zhao Buyao, defeated in the duel, was surrounded by the three men. As the director called action, Xi Ruohan suddenly raised her head, her eyes shooting angry glares straight at Ran Lin!

“A big man bullying a small woman like me—what kind of skill is that!”

Xi Ruohan’s anger was so genuine that Ran Lin felt as if he could be pierced by her gaze.

Distracted, he lost focus.

“Cut!” the director said discontentedly, poking his head out. “Fang Xian, say your lines!”

Ran Lin quickly apologized. “Sorry, sorry.”

There was no excuse for forgetting lines.

The director frowned and refocused on the monitor.

Turning back, Ran Lin met Xi Ruohan’s disdainful gaze.

This was different from the earlier anger; it was a disdain from a height—the real Xi Ruohan.

Unrelated to anything else, just the female lead’s gaze at the male second lead, especially when they were strangers off-screen, and the male second had just NG’d.

“<Swords of Fallen Flowers> Scene 98, Take 2…”

Click!

The moment the clapperboard closed, Xi Ruohan’s disdain suddenly flared into anger, as if Zhao Buyao’s soul had possessed her.

“A big man bullying a small woman like me—what kind of skill is that!”

“A small woman sneaking into a righteous mansion at night doesn’t sound easy to bully,” Fang Xian replied with a flirtatious undertone, casually making his entrance.

“Everyone’s here for the same thing. Playing dumb isn’t fun,” Fang Xian said, circling Zhao Buyao with a smug smile, his eyes filled with a romantic flair. “I guess… you’re Zhao Buyao.”

The woman looked up in surprise. “You know me?”

Xu Chongfei struggled to hold back laughter. Even Tang Jingyu’s icy demeanor softened, his gaze warming towards Zhao Buyao.

Fang Xian subtly warned his brothers with a glance, as if to say, “Don’t ruin my chances,” then turned to the girl, who was easily tricked into revealing the truth, changing from his previous flirtatious demeanor to a sincere and honest face, even his voice sounding like a decent young man. “I don’t know you, but I’ve heard that Zhao Buyao of Liuhua Palace can captivate a city with a smile and captivate a nation with another. I don’t believe there’s a second girl as beautiful as you, so you must be Zhao Buyao.”

The woman slowly recovered from her initial surprise, listening quietly to Fang Xian finish, then gently said, “My mother said, the more pleasant a man’s words, the more dangerous he is.”

Fang Xian stood frozen, more embarrassed than ever.

Xu Chongfei burst into laughter, no longer sparing his second brother any face.

Tang Jingyu also chuckled silently, his shoulders silently trembling.

Fang Xian took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, finally regaining the demeanor of the young master of the Fang Clan. He declared loudly, “Good, now we have one more person to help open the coffins.”

“Cut—”

After calling cut, Director Chen emerged from behind the monitor. The four actors didn’t dare to move, knowing that the director’s coming out meant he had something to say about the scene.

Indeed, Chen Qizheng, approaching them, got straight to the point. “Next, you’ll open the coffins in two groups. Fang Xian will follow Zhao Buyao to this side…”

As he spoke, the director walked over to the designated coffin.

The four actors immediately followed.

“Tang Jingyu and Xu Chongfei will open that side. In the end, after all the coffins are opened, in this coffin, Tang Jingyu will find the token and the identity of the deceased. When you pick up the token, the camera will zoom in for a close-up, so try not to shake your hand, keep it steady…”

Since the next scene’s movements were quite complex, the director walked them through it again after explaining.

Feeling it was about right, he returned behind the monitor.

The extras had already lain down in the coffins, and the crew was busy placing the lids on.

The lighting technicians were also busy, adjusting the lights shining on the corpses’ faces.

Lu Yiyao and Tang Xiaoyu went back to rest in their chairs outside after the director finished explaining. Ran Lin, wanting to familiarize himself with the movements, stood still, watching the extras lie down in the coffins and mentally rehearsing the movements.

As he was thinking, a voice suddenly appeared behind him. “Are you and Lu Yiyao close?”

Ran Lin, who was pondering the Young Master Fang’s reaction to being scared by a corpse, jumped in fright at the sudden question, almost turning around in horror.

Xi Ruohan frowned unhappily and said coldly, “What’s with that expression? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ran Lin glanced around subconsciously. The busy crew members didn’t pay attention to the interaction between the lead actress and the second male lead.

“I was just thinking about the scene and got a little scared,” Ran Lin explained politely.

Xi Ruohan seemed amused by his answer and sneered, “In my opinion, you really don’t need to put in so much effort. Just get through the scene without NG, and the director will be grateful.”

Ran Lin gave an awkward smile and didn’t respond.

This lady seemed intent on picking a fight. He couldn’t provoke her but could stay silent.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. What does your silence mean?”

Ran Lin sighed. Being a big star, she probably had a bit of a temper, was spoiled by the industry, and was adored by fans. It was rare to find someone as good-natured as Lu Yiyao, a real gem.

“I was thinking…” Unable to avoid, he braced himself. “What was the question that Teacher Xi just asked?”

Ran Lin smiled warmly, but Xi Ruohan frowned frequently, not answering his question initially, instead musing. “You really don’t resemble Fang Xian at all.”

This was her personal reflection, not needing Ran Lin’s input, so she immediately returned to her main concern, reiterating her most pressing question. “Are you and Lu Yiyao close?”

Ran Lin thought for a moment and cautiously replied, “It’s alright, I guess. After all, we’ve done a reality show together.”

“It’s more than just alright.” Xi Ruohan obviously doubted his answer. “I saw you two hiding in the corner and talking for a long time.”

Ran Lin was taken aback, not expecting the lead actress to have such insight.

“It was just about the scene, nothing else.” Ran Lin stuck to the work explanation, certainly not about to admit they were discussing her meeting with Lu Yiyao the previous night.

Xi Ruohan scrutinized him warily and, after a long moment, warned, “Lu Yiyao is kind of naive, with a low guard. I’m different. I can see through whatever you’re planning, so you better behave.”

Ran Lin faced her gaze with forced calmness but was internally breathless, his mind going blank.

Xi Ruohan, looking as if she already knew, whispered threateningly, “Listen, if you dare use him for publicity again, to ride on his popularity, I have a hundred ways to make sure you can’t stay in this crew.”

Ran Lin blinked slowly, regaining his breath. “Just… that?”

Xi Ruohan frowned, a bit baffled. “Isn’t that enough? What, do you want me to kick you out of the entertainment industry?”

“No.” Ran Lin hurried to clarify. “I mean, the warning you’re giving me… is just that? Riding on popularity?”

“Don’t play dumb. Airport dramas, climbing up through variety shows—I’m too familiar with your tactics. This time you’ve wormed your way into <Sword of Fallen Flowers> just to ride the popularity wave to the end, right?” Xi Ruohan leaned closer to Ran Lin, glaring down at him, her nostrils almost skyward. “I’m telling you, taking advantage of colleagues can backfire. Sometimes, if you overdo it, you’ll get stuck at the bottom of the pot, unable to get out for a lifetime, never able to turn things around.”

“……”

“What? Speechless because I hit the nail on the head?”

“No.” Ran Lin swallowed, sincerely saying, “I just think your metaphor is very vivid…”

Xi Ruohan: “Has anyone told you that being snarky when someone is serious can be particularly annoying?”

Ran Lin: “Has anyone told you that you and Lu Yiyao are really similar?”

Xi Ruohan froze, her cheeks blushing rapidly, as if with the touch of a beautifying filter.

“How are we… similar?” Any threat, disdain, or mockery gave way to shyness.

Ran Lin smiled, but his mood grew complex after.

This girl really liked Lu Yiyao.

Stripping away fame, temper, acting skills, and all attributes attached to Xi Ruohan, what was exposed was a girl who dared to love and hate. Just being able to openly express “like” was enough for Ran Lin to envy.

And in the aspect of “thinking she knows it all but actually being sweet and naive”, she and Lu Yiyao indeed shared similarities.

“Hey, I asked you a question!” Waiting in vain for further explanation, Xi Ruohan grew impatient again.

The set was ready for the next scene.

Xi Ruohan glanced at the waiting crew behind her, urging anxiously. “Hey—”

“Sweet.” Ran Lin smiled at her deliberately, his eyes curving, gentle as jade. “You both are quite sweet.”

Watching Ran Lin’s fluttering figure, Xi Ruohan suddenly felt that he did resemble Fang Xian a bit.

“<Sword of Fallen Flowers>, Scene 99, Take 1…”

Lu Yiyao, seeing Xi Ruohan’s face clearly wearing a silly smile, didn’t understand what made her so happy.

Fortunately, with a “click”, the angry Zhao Buyao returned.

……

The morning’s dialogue scenes at the righteous mansion went smoothly. The group of four decided to form a defensive and offensive alliance, as they all sought the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. It was agreed to collaborate first and deal with the manual later. However, when they opened the coffins, they found tokens from the Zhaixing Tower. Specifically, the corpses in the righteous manor weren’t villagers from Liuma Town but members of Zhaixing Tower, including the tower’s master.

Zhaixing Tower, a prestigious sect in the martial world known for accomplishing any task for the right price, even fetching stars from the sky*, was now in disarray.

*Clarity: Their name [Zhaixing] (摘星) means reach for the stars.

The discovery of their corpses in this inconspicuous village’s righteous mansion was chilling.

What surprised the four even more was finding an artifact from the Shengtian Sect at the scene. All clues pointed to the sect as the murderers. Just as they discovered this, a group of men in black burst in, attempting to snatch the artifact.

With time pressing and heavy scenes to film, the actors quickly had lunch, and the action scene team was ready to go. The setting was still the “righteous mansion”, but the scale was much larger than in the morning.

Ran Lin was excited to wear the wire harness for the first time.

Tang Xiaoyu, an experienced actor, commented with a knowing look. “You won’t be smiling for long.”

Ran Lin felt a bit tight in the wire harness but didn’t take Tang Xiaoyu’s words too seriously.

However, once on set and hoisted into the air, Ran Lin was shocked.

He couldn’t even control his expressions, let alone speak his lines. The only feeling he had was constriction.

This wasn’t just ordinary discomfort but a suffocating tightness, akin to the Evil Queen disguised as an old hag, cinching Snow White’s corset so tight that she nearly died.

The assistant director had to call a halt.

The martial arts director, a hot-tempered man, exploded in anger, berating Ran Lin and questioning his ability. He suggested using a stunt double instead of wasting everyone’s time.

Being a martial artist, even the director treated him with respect. With no experience of his own, Ran Lin could only accept the criticism quietly.

Compared to Ran Lin, Tang Xiaoyu’s scenes were simpler, and Xi Ruohan, with her experience, performed flawlessly.

Because of Ran Lin, a single scene dragged on for an entire hour.

The atmosphere on set grew tense, and the martial arts director’s face, already stormy, darkened further.

Despite his anger, the martial arts director diligently instructed Ran Lin on the movements, explained the essentials, and demonstrated the actions, though he struggled to keep his voice calm.

Finally, after another attempt, the assistant director grudgingly approved the scene.

Ran Lin knew his movements were still lacking, but the crew couldn’t wait for his continuous NGs, so they had to make do.

With the most challenging scene behind them, the remaining ones were relatively easier. With more people and group fighting, individual performance demands weren’t as high.

They worked until 9 p.m., finally completing all the action scenes at the righteous mansion—an hour later than scheduled.

When the assistant director called it a day, Ran Lin’s thighs were numb.

“You did well. My first time with wires wasn’t even as good as yours.” Tang Xiaoyu, noticing Ran Lin’s dejection, patted his shoulder before going to remove his makeup.

Ran Lin appreciated it but knew his performance was lacking, responding with a wry smile, “Don’t try to comfort me.”

Unexpectedly, Tang Xiaoyu earnestly replied, “Really, the first time I was hoisted, I screamed out loud. It wasn’t leg pain, but…” Tang Xiaoyu looked around to ensure privacy before whispering with a pained expression, “It was… egg pain, you know, like your balls being crushed…”

“That’s enough.” Ran Lin stopped him, feeling a wave of sympathetic pain. “I can imagine.”

“Are you two not going to remove your makeup?” Xi Ruohan, after speaking with the assistant director, was ready to leave and saw the two chatting.

“We’re going now,” Tang Xiaoyu hastily replied. “I was just sharing some wire-fighting tips with him.”

Xi Ruohan took a sip of the tea handed to her by her assistant, her eyes showing disdain. “You’re teaching him? You should improve your own movements first. They lack strength and look like mere posturing.”

Tang Xiaoyu was dumbfounded on the spot.

After the lead actress left, Tang Xiaoyu dared to speak. “What a diva.”

Ran Lin laughed, remembering something. “She just looks fierce.”

Tang Xiaoyu was surprised, doubtingly looking at Ran Lin’s smile, and whispered, “You’re not falling for her, are you?”

Ran Lin was exasperated, suspecting his fellow cast member was naïve. “I only acted with her for the first time today.”

“That’s common here,” Tang Xiaoyu said naturally. “Falling for each other while acting is pretty usual in this circle.”

Ran Lin suddenly remembered Tang Xiaoyu’s almost slipped mention of a girlfriend and had a lightbulb moment. “Is your girlfriend from the industry…”

“I’m off to remove my makeup. See you later!”

Xiaoyu hurried off.

Ran Lin laughed so hard he could finally feel the pain in his thighs.

……

“What a torture…”

In his hotel room, Ran Lin carefully removed his pants, revealing his pale thighs, then examined the bruising under the bright light.

The marks were from the wire harness, a large area of blood red, especially noticeable against Ran Lin’s fair skin, looking alarmingly stark.

“Who in their right mind invented this wire harness…”

Ran Lin knew this was a necessary hardship for filming martial arts scenes and had mentally prepared himself. Having endured through the day, he felt entitled to a private rant to ease his physical and mental strain.

Just touching the tender bruise on his inner thigh sent a sharp pain, causing Ran Lin to swiftly retract his hand, too scared to touch it again.

It really hurt.

Thinking about having to shower later filled him with dread.

At times like this, he couldn’t help but envy Lu Yiyao—Tang Jingyu, disabled since childhood, couldn’t perform qinggong or use inner force. He learned a few moves with Fang Xian but became formidable with hidden weapons he secretly learned. In the show, he never had to fly through the air, usually hiding and attacking from the shadows. Indeed, one could only envy the male lead who never had to take to the skies.

The direct result of this character design was that in the afternoon, while the three of them were filming the action scenes, Lu Yiyao didn’t need to come at all. His scenes of throwing hidden weapons from the shadows had already been filmed in the morning. The entire afternoon, he continued with the dialogue scenes in Group A under Director Chen’s guidance.

Ran Lin thought it was just as well that Lu Yiyao wasn’t there; otherwise, with all those NGs, he would have wanted to hide underground.

While lost in thought, a notification from WeChat rang out.

Opening it, he saw a message from Lu Yiyao—[Back at the hotel?]

Since the dialogue and action scenes wrapped at different times, Lu Yiyao must have been back for quite a while.

Too tired to speak, Ran Lin also sent a text in reply—[Yeah, just got back.]

[How did it feel hanging on wires? 😏]

Ran Lin knew Lu Yiyao was teasing him, but he really wasn’t in the mood for jokes and honestly replied—[Painful.]

Lu Yiyao was momentarily taken aback by the response on his screen.

He expected Ran Lin to joke about it, saying things like “Exciting,” “You should try it,” or “Like flying through the clouds like an immortal.”

But all Ran Lin replied was a single word.

The problem was, he could feel the pain just by reading the message.

Without much thought, Lu Yiyao called him directly.

Ran Lin was startled by the ringtone, regretting his honesty, and hesitated before answering.

Before he could speak, Lu Yiyao’s voice came through. “Are you alright?”

Ran Lin immediately tried to sound energetic. “I’m fine, just kidding.”

There was a pause on the other end before Lu Yiyao asked, “Where does it hurt?”

Ran Lin stubbornly denied. “I told you, I was joking. Can’t you take a joke…”

“If you don’t tell me, I’m coming down.” Lu Yiyao interrupted.

Ran Lin was confused. “Coming where?”

Lu Yiyao’s exasperation was audible. “Down to your floor to find you. Did hanging on wires make you stupid?”

Ran Lin hurriedly declined. “No need, no need. It’s just a bit tight wearing the harness all afternoon, but I’m fine now that I’ve taken it off, really!”

Lu Yiyao frowned, feeling something was off with Ran Lin.

It wasn’t a big deal to be hurt from hanging on wires, a common occurrence in filming. But it was precisely because it was trivial that Ran Lin’s hesitance made it suspicious.

“I’m going to shower. Let’s not talk for now,” Ran Lin excused himself.

Lu Yiyao thought for a moment and agreed.

After hanging up, Lu Yiyao sat on his bed, thinking for two minutes before calling Tang Xiaoyu.

Tang Xiaoyu, showering at the time, picked up the phone to see it was Lu Yiyao and immediately answered, “Brother*?”

*[Da Ge] (大哥) Term used for the eldest brother.

Lately, Tang Xiaoyu enjoyed using their character names, feeling more comfortable than “Teacher Lu”.

Lu Yiyao didn’t mind and asked with concern, “How did the afternoon shoot go?”

Tang Xiaoyu was surprised that Lu Yiyao had time to care about him, attributing it to the camaraderie they developed last week. He reported, “Not bad. The first scene was a bit rough, but the rest went well.”

Lu Yiyao casually asked, “What happened in the first scene?”

Tang Xiaoyu candidly explained, “It was Ran Lin’s time on wires, so he needed some time to adjust.” He and Ran Lin got along well, so they referred to each other by their names.

Lu Yiyao guessed some of it. “Did he NG many times?”

Tang Xiaoyu sighed. “Yeah, the martial arts director almost lost it. Luckily, it got better later.”

“It’s understandable. His first time on wires must have been hard.”

“Yeah, not just for Ran Lin. Even I, who am used to it, suffered.”

“Were the wires that tight?”

“Of course, my thighs were all red. You have to wear loose and soft pants, or it rubs and hurts.”

“I’ve never been on wires…”

“I know. I thought you couldn’t handle it… Uh, I spoke too fast without thinking. Can I take that back?”

Lu Yiyao laughed, reassuring, “No problem. I like honesty.”

Tang Xiaoyu, after a moment’s reflection, decided to apologize for his assumptions. “Sorry for my presumptions. But you kept it too well hidden. If it weren’t for that Disneyland episode, I wouldn’t have known you’re afraid of heights.”

Lu Yiyao sighed. “It’s a natural fear, can’t help it.”

“No.” Tang Xiaoyu genuinely envied. “It means you’re blessed. At least you don’t have to hang on wires.”

“Is it really that tough?”

“Why would I lie to you? Wait a moment…”

True to his word, Tang Xiaoyu took responsibility for his claims. He stepped out of the shower, snapped a close-up “bruise on skin” photo showing a large red mark, and sent it to Lu Yiyao via WeChat.

Though abstract, with no risk of exposure, the photo clearly showed a painful-looking bruise, evoking sympathy from viewers.

Upon seeing the photo, Lu Yiyao felt a pain in his own thigh.

He couldn’t help but think of Ran Lin’s fair skin, imagining the marks on him, which seemed almost cruel.

“See? What do you think?” Tang Xiaoyu waited for feedback.

“I see it,” Lu Yiyao earnestly said. “I should send a gift to the scriptwriter.”

Tang Xiaoyu laughed in agreement. “Absolutely. The script is filled with love for you!”

Lu Yiyao chuckled, chatting briefly before ending the call, knowing Tang Xiaoyu was still showering.

However, Tang Xiaoyu didn’t resume his shower immediately. Instead, he admired his photo, feeling it had artistic merit, and uploaded it to Weibo with the caption “How a hero is made.”

The image was abstract, but his fans, keen-eyed, quickly realized it was a wire-work bruise, given Tang Xiaoyu’s filming schedule, and showered him with sympathy.

Ran Lin, also showering cautiously at low temperature and pressure, received the bloody photo from Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin was taken aback, initially not understanding the image, full of red, which was rather unsettling.

[???]—Just sending three question marks, Ran Lin felt proud of his restraint.

The reply came quickly—[Tang Xiaoyu’s thigh.]

Ran Lin stared at the words for a full minute.

[Why did he send you his thigh photo?]

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow. Shouldn’t the question be, “Why are you sending me this photo?”

But it didn’t matter. The response was more useful than he expected.

[To compare.]

Ran Lin frowned in confusion.

[Compare with whom?]

[You.]

[I’ve never sent you a photo of my thigh 💦.]

[You can send it now 😊.]

[……]

[?]

[Your tricks are too deep…]

[😳]

Ran Lin, looking at the blushing emoji, felt both annoyed and amused.

Although he ultimately didn’t send any weird photos, strangely enough, his thigh didn’t hurt as much anymore.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch41

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 41

In early autumn, the plum garden was verdantly filled with greenery with no flowers in bloom. Three young men entered through the Moon Gate, their figures slowly disappearing into the lush plum trees.

The scene shifted, and the trio stood in an open area of the garden. The youth in dark clothes, usually stern, now smiled warmly. The young man in moonlight white attire looked satisfied, while the nobleman in fine clothes frowned, looking around.

“Why choose this place?” Fang Xian, not content, looked around with a critical eye.

Tang Jingyu, unable to bear it, pulled him back. “A gentleman is like a plum blossom, standing proudly amidst frost and snow. What, isn’t that worthy of you, Young Master Fang?”

Fang Xian irritably shook off Tang Jingyu’s hand, looking mournfully at the greenery. “If it’s a plum garden, it should be in bloom. Now, we only see green branches, not a hint of proud, frost-resisting plum blossoms.”

Xu Chongfei, amused and helpless by their constant bickering, quickly took responsibility. “My fault, my fault. I should have chosen a winter day for this brotherhood ceremony.”

“Don’t mind him.” Tang Jingyu, used to Fang Xian’s quirks, believed such people shouldn’t be indulged. “I think this place is perfect. Chongfei, bring the incense burner.”

Xu Chongfei, well-prepared, quickly set up the incense burner and offerings, creating a makeshift altar on the open ground. Fang Xian’s criticisms were just for fun; he wouldn’t really wait until winter.

Under the open sky and kneeling on the earth, the three bowed their heads to the ground, forming a bond stronger than kin. Unaware of the future conspiracies, entanglements, and grudges that awaited, they were simply themselves, bonding with the brothers they resonated with the most.

“Pass!”

Director Chen shouted, and the set erupted in laughter.

Everyone was surprised that such an important scene passed in one take. Makeup artists rushed to touch up the actors’ foreheads, marred by kneeling, while other crew members busily prepared for the next scene.

Director Chen remained behind the monitor, but the assistant director secretly gave the three actors a thumbs up. They notice and feel a rush of excitement.

Acting can be exhilarating, especially when deeply immersed. Ran Lin had felt this before, but opportunities to experience it were rare. For Lu Yiyao, this feeling was new and thrilling.

From this day, the three were mainly involved in scenes together, mostly dialogue-driven. The main plot revolves around Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian, under Fang Huanzhi’s orders, coming to Liuma Town to investigate the whereabouts of the “Sword of Fallen Flowers” and eventually forming a brotherhood with Xu Chongfei, the young master of Hidden Sword Tower.

Other than that, some subsequent scenes were also filmed, but as the female lead hadn’t joined yet, these were minor transitional scenes.

Every evening, the trio rehearsed together, reminiscent of dormitory study sessions before exams. Thanks to their professionalism, the shooting progressed smoothly.

A busy week flew by, and on the evening of September 12th, the female lead, Xi Ruohan, arrived at the hotel.

Xi Ruohan was slightly less popular than Lu Yiyao, but her fame and experience were no less. She rose to stardom as a leading actress when Lu Yiyao was just entering the entertainment industry.

From the beginning, Xi Ruohan was hailed for her natural acting ability. Now a woman, her aura had matured, and her acting skills had solidified. Despite rumors of diva behavior, she stood out as a naturally beautiful and talented actress in a sea of surgically enhanced faces.

Speaking through one’s work was an eternal truth in the industry. The drama that linked her and Lu Yiyao was <Yun Zhang>.

When the leads were announced, Xi Ruohan’s fans lamented the choice of Lu Yiyao, a popular but less skilled actor, instead of a male star matching their idol’s talent. At that time, Lu Yiyao’s <Ten Years of Rainy Nights> had just finished filming, and <Baihei Tree> wasn’t even completed. No one expected him to later be nominated for Best Actor. He took on the role of Yun Zhang amidst much skepticism.

The result was clear for all to see. <Yun Zhang> was a huge success, and Lu Yiyao, sharing the screen with Xi Ruohan, not only held his own but also shone brightly, different from his past roles. The audience praised the script, the actors, and the film’s quality.

Only Lu Yiyao knew that good acting was nurtured.

He learned a lot about acting from Xi Ruohan, a fact he was well aware of. Acting with her was different from Ran Lin. With Xi Ruohan, he was acutely aware of acting and observed her performance to learn and apply. However, with Ran Lin, he would forget the existence of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, as if they were meant to be Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian.

Xi Ruohan and Ran Lin were great partners, the former perhaps a bit too aggressive.

“How come you’re guarding like against a thief? I’m not going to eat you.” Xi Ruohan, carrying a pretty paper bag, stood at Lu Yiyao’s door. The host didn’t move after opening the door, so she hesitated to enter, frowning sadly.

Xi Ruohan looked thinner than before, enhancing her already delicate features. Dressed in comfortable casual wear, she seemed freshly arrived and not overly calculating.

“I’ll accept your gift.” Lu Yiyao extended his hand warmly, asking for the bag. “But I won’t invite you in; the room is too messy.”

Xi Ruohan narrowed her beautiful almond eyes, holding the gift but not handing it over. Lu Yiyao watched amusedly, unmoving.

He had experience dealing with Xi Ruohan and now could handle it with ease. Xi Ruohan, frustrated, shoved the gift bag into Lu Yiyao’s hands and stormed off to her room.

The top floor of the hotel was quiet, so her angry footsteps left a clear, muffled sound on the carpet.

Watching Xi Ruohan swipe her card and slam the door at the end of the hallway, Lu Yiyao felt relieved and closed his door.

Frankly, he didn’t dislike Xi Ruohan. She was talented and beautiful, but more importantly, she was serious and professional about acting. This alone scored high with Lu Yiyao. Moreover, she was straightforward; her pursuit of him almost caused a scandal with the paparazzi—knocking on his door at night and being turned away. For him, it was positive news, but for Xi Ruohan, even as a single woman, such news could be damaging. After all the fuss, only a few speculative gossip articles emerged, and they didn’t push hard, so Lu Yiyao’s attitude towards his fellow actress had always been polite and mild.

Inside the gift bag was a selection of exquisite Jiangnan pastries, along with a handcrafted mandarin duck comb. Xi Ruohan’s late arrival to the set was due to her busy schedule filming another major female lead role in a drama set in a town in Jiangnan. The story revolves around a family that has passed down the art of comb-making for generations. This tale is based on a real family, whose collateral branches still live in that town today. The thoughtful and detailed gift Xi Ruohan chose showed her meticulous care.

Sighing, Lu Yiyao repackaged the comb but didn’t put it back in the original paper bag. Instead, he switched it to an opaque makeup bag, making it look like a newly purchased cosmetic product. He then called over Li Tong, handing him the pastries and the makeup bag containing the comb.

“The pastries are for you to eat. Give this bag to Xi Ruohan’s assistant to pass on to her, and say it’s from me,” Lu Yiyao instructed clearly.

Li Tong was confused. “Where do I find Xi Ruohan’s assistant?”

Lu Yiyao gave him a sideways glance.

“Alright, I got it.” Li Tong stopped playing dumb but still had a question. “Lu Ge, weren’t you always… Have you changed your mind now?”

Lu Yiyao looked at his assistant with exasperation. “With your gossiping skills, it’s a pity you’re not a paparazzo.”

Li Tong took the hint and went downstairs with the gift bag. He certainly knew Xi Ruohan’s assistant. In fact, during the <Yun Zhang> period, she approached him first, trying to get information about Lu Yiyao.

Later, he realized that it was Xi Ruohan who was interested in Lu Yiyao. A handsome man and a beautiful woman—if they could be together, it would make a good match. But since Lu Yiyao showed no interest in Xi Ruohan, Li Tong didn’t really act as an undercover agent.

However, Xi Ruohan was persistent, so her assistant occasionally contacted him to probe Lu Yiyao’s intentions. Both working in the same industry, Li Tong understood her and maintained a cordial relationship without revealing any useful information.

Now that Xi Ruohan had just arrived, her assistant had already contacted him. He thought Lu Yiyao was unaware, but his boss had seen through everything without pointing it out.

With admiration for Lu Yiyao, Li Tong arranged to meet the assistant on the same floor and handed her the makeup bag as instructed. The assistant, aware of Xi Ruohan’s preparation of the gift, didn’t connect the makeup bag with the returned gift.

She assumed Lu Yiyao had finally reciprocated and excitedly ran upstairs to Xi Ruohan’s room, delivering the “gift of love.”

Lu Yiyao, listening at the door, timed his WeChat message perfectly—[The pastries were delicious 😊.]

Xi Ruohan’s frustrated scream echoed through the hallway, clearly having received the returned gift and WeChat message before even closing her door. Lu Yiyao exhaled, feeling returning the comb was a wise decision. Had it been a regular comb, he might have kept it, but a mandarin duck* comb… he didn’t want to give Xi Ruohan any false hope.

*Clarity: In China, mandarin ducks are believed to be lifelong couples and hence are regarded as a symbol of conjugal affection and fidelity. Such a gift would have too many undertones (whether intentional or not).

When Lu Yiyao initially saw Xi Ruohan’s name on the proposed cast list, he did have his concerns. However, on one hand, she was indeed a skilled and professional actress, and on the other, they hadn’t been in contact for a long time, leading him to optimistically believe that Xi Ruohan had given up on pursuing him.

After all, he had explicitly and implicitly rejected her advances many times before, and Xi Ruohan did seem to quiet down for a while.

Little did he know how tenacious and persistent she was, much like the character Zhao Buyao, the daughter of the Liuhua Palace’s master, whom she was set to portray in this role.

As the screams in the hallway gradually subsided, Lu Yiyao began to worry about their future scenes together. There were many scenes between Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao, including several intimate ones. It seemed that waiting for Xi Ruohan to lose interest in him would be a long and challenging task.

His phone suddenly rang, startling him. He thought it was Xi Ruohan calling to confront him, but it was Ran Lin, his die-hard fan.

“Hello?” Lu Yiyao didn’t realize it, but the moment he saw the caller ID, his worries about Xi Ruohan vanished, replaced by a warm, melting feeling.

“Are you resting?” Ran Lin asked.

“No. What’s up?” They didn’t have a rehearsal planned for the night since tomorrow’s scenes were mostly with the female lead.

Ran Lin, now more casual in his calls and messages with Lu Yiyao, got straight to the point. “Zhang Beichen has arrived and wants to invite us out for late-night snacks.”

Lu Yiyao then remembered seeing in a group chat that Zhang Beichen was coming to Hengdian for filming. He had seen it but hadn’t paid much attention.

Lu Yiyao’s feelings towards Zhang Beichen were lukewarm—not very close but not distant either. Their most familiar time was during the reality show, but after the show ended, they gradually lost contact. Even with occasional interactions in group chats, they maintained a polite distance.

Zhang Beichen must have sensed this, which was why he approached Ran Lin and not Lu Yiyao directly.

Thinking of this, Lu Yiyao curiously asked, “Did he invite both of us?”

Ran Lin, amused, replied, “What else? Oh, he only invited me, and then I dragged you along for a free meal.”

Lu Yiyao laughed but still playfully said, “If he invited both of us, why did he only contact you and not me?”

Ran Lin was exasperated. “Then I’ll have Zhang Beichen call you right now, saying you’re upset because he didn’t personally invite you, our proud God Lu.”

Lu Yiyao felt refreshed and satisfied amidst Ran Lin’s “I can’t stand you” tone.

Fifteen minutes later, Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin met at the hotel’s side entrance under a dark, windy night.

Ran Lin wore dark gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie, completely covering his face with the hood. Lu Yiyao was in black pants, a black T-shirt, a black cap, and a black mask, revealing only his eyes, which were also black.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but tease him. “Why didn’t you bring sunglasses? That would have been foolproof.”

Lu Yiyao shrugged, seriously explaining, “It’s too dark.”

Thus, two suspicious-looking young men stood under a streetlamp, trying to hail a taxi. After being ignored by several cautious drivers, one finally stopped.

Zhang Beichen’s hotel was close to theirs, and the restaurant wasn’t far either. A ten-minute taxi ride later, they arrived.

The restaurant was small but looked clean. Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin told the waiter their reserved private room number and were led inside. The waiter glanced at Ran Lin a few times, seemingly recognizing him but unable to place where from. As for Lu Yiyao, with only his eyes visible, identification was impossible.

However, encountering celebrities was a common occurrence for those working in Hengdian’s catering industry. The waiter, unable to recall Ran Lin’s identity, didn’t press the matter and simply brought them to their room before going to fetch tea.

Ran Lin was surprised that Zhang Beichen hadn’t arrived yet. After sitting down, he sent a WeChat message—[We’ve arrived.]

He looked up after sending the message to find Lu Yiyao staring at him curiously.

“What’s up?” Ran Lin asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the gaze, and instinctively checked himself for anything amiss.

“It’s just a bit strange,” Lu Yiyao said honestly. “I didn’t feel like you two were that close during the show, so it’s surprising he contacted you as soon as he got to Hengdian.”

Ran Lin, thinking Lu Yiyao was still in his “tsundere” mode, quickly reassured, “He invited both of us, okay?”

Lu Yiyao smiled and shook his head. “The invitation was just a formality. I know what my relationship with him is like.”

Ran Lin didn’t expect such directness from Lu Yiyao. His surprise gave way to a different feeling. If Lu Yiyao merely considered him a collaborative partner or a familiar colleague, there was no need for such openness.

In the industry, many relationships were superficial; even amidst intense behind-the-scenes competition, they had to maintain a courteous facade. Lu Yiyao had no need to openly share his true feelings about Zhang Beichen.

The fact that he did, and so naturally, suggested one thing—Lu Yiyao not only considered him a friend but a completely unguarded one. Wang Xi said Lu Yiyao was naïve and sweet. Ran Lin agreed only with the last part.

Lu Yiyao was neither naïve nor innocent; he understood the stakes and saw through the industry’s facade, but he was sincere with friends he valued. Even if the person wasn’t gay, Ran Lin thought, being friends with Lu Yiyao was his good fortune.

“You can’t avoid the topic by looking at me with such admiration.” Lu Yiyao tapped the table lightly, noticing Ran Lin’s dreamy gaze.

Ran Lin shook his head, snapping out of his reverie, and objectively explained his relationship with Zhang Beichen. “We’ve been in touch since the reality show ended. Our relationship is pretty good.”

Lu Yiyao frowned, recalling details of the reality show, and reserved judgment. Ran Lin didn’t want to delve too deep, fearing he might inadvertently mention Dubai and land in hot water. He quickly changed the subject. “I heard Xi Ruohan arrived today.”

The waiter arrived with tea at that moment. Lu Yiyao took a cup, blowing on it lightly. Once the waiter left, he casually mentioned, “She’s already arrived and came to greet me.”

Ran Lin, having seen their rumored relationship articles online, took Lu Yiyao’s casual demeanor as confirmation of their professional relationship. He commented, “That’s the treatment of a male lead.”

Lu Yiyao sipped his tea, setting down the cup with a light sigh. “Ah, it’s hard being so popular.”

Ran Lin, unimpressed, joked, “We should invite the media to see you now.”

Lu Yiyao immediately shook his head. “No way.”

Ran Lin felt somewhat reassured. “So you know you’re being arrogant?”

Lu Yiyao seriously replied, “I’m not photogenic without makeup.”

Ran Lin: “…”

Where the hell is Zhang Beichen?

Lu Yiyao didn’t hear Ran Lin’s internal scream, but he too hoped Zhang Beichen would arrive soon. For some reason, he didn’t want to discuss Xi Ruohan with Ran Lin, as he avoided lying to friends and feared being asked about Xi Ruohan’s pursuit of him.

Being pursued by a girl isn’t shameful; it could even be seen as proof of charm. But firstly, Lu Yiyao didn’t need such things to boast about his appeal, and secondly, it involved a girl’s reputation. Regardless of her feelings, he wouldn’t divulge more than necessary.

Perhaps hearing their calls, Zhang Beichen finally arrived—

“Sorry for being late. Today’s meal is on me. Order whatever you want. Don’t be shy.”

His voice arrived before he did. The tall, handsome young man entered the private room. Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin stood up—a sign of respect for the host, regardless of their respective statuses.

But as soon as they saw each other, all three paused. Zhang Beichen was wearing grey sweatpants and a deep blue hoodie, almost identical to Ran Lin’s outfit, looking like a uniform or couple’s attire at first glance.

What could have been a light, passable joke somehow led to a moment of awkward silence among the three.

Fortunately, it didn’t last long. Ran Lin broke the ice with a laugh. “Matching outfits aren’t scary. It’s only embarrassing if you’re the uglier one.”

Zhang Beichen didn’t find it awkward; his pause was more out of amusement.

“Who said it’s matching? This is called a couple’s outfit,” Zhang Beichen said naturally, so casually that it couldn’t be taken as anything but a joke.

But Ran Lin knew Zhang Beichen was just seizing the opportunity for a quick jab. With Lu Yiyao there, he couldn’t react too strongly and simply poured a cup of tea for Zhang, offering it seriously. “Here, have some tea.”

Zhang Beichen didn’t really have any ulterior motives. His invitation to Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao today was simply to foster good relations. With Ran Lin’s role as Fang Xian already confirmed, there was no point in dwelling on the past for Zhang Beichen; it was important to look forward. Moreover, he wasn’t directly replaced by Ran Lin. Although there might be some feelings of reluctance and jealousy, he couldn’t really blame Ran Lin for it. It was better to maintain their relationship, as having more friends meant having more paths open.

Moreover, he hadn’t expected Ran Lin to actually bring Lu Yiyao along. Indeed, the scent he had picked up on in Dubai wasn’t an illusion.

Did the two get together?

It didn’t seem so, at least from Lu Yiyao’s natural demeanor and gaze.

But as for Ran Lin…

“Did you invite us for supper or to read our fortune?” Ran Lin, both annoyed and amused, handed the menu to Zhang, who was still intently observing them.

Zhang Beichen regained his composure and confidently said, without even glancing at the menu, “I used to eat here all the time when I was filming in the area. I know what to order with my eyes closed.”

Ran Lin laughed. “Then let’s see you do it.”

Zhang Beichen, of course, didn’t actually close his eyes but ended up calling the waiter and smoothly listing several dishes.

Once the waiter left and they were alone in the private room, Zhang Beichen casually asked, “How’s filming been this past week? Tough?”

His question seemed directed at both friends, but his gaze was fixed on Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao understood the implication and responded nonchalantly, “It’s been okay, mostly shooting dialogue scenes.”

Ran Lin chimed in with a bit of teasing. “Of course, he’s not struggling. In the drama, he doesn’t have any martial arts or inner force. All his character does is scheme and plot—a real mastermind.”

Lu Yiyao disagreed. “How can you call it scheming? It’s just taking revenge and settling scores, a common practice since ancient times.”

Ran Lin didn’t bother to argue and turned to Zhang Beichen, saying seriously, “In the drama, I’m the one who gets outsmarted by him.”

Zhang Beichen smiled lightly. “I know.”

Ran Lin suddenly realized he had misspoken.

Of course, Zhang Beichen knew—he had auditioned for the role of Fang Xian… Ran Lin, you fool!

“If you want to praise me, just say it. No need to beat around the bush,” Zhang Beichen joked, helping Ran Lin out of the awkward situation and casually ruffled his hair.

They were seated around a round table, which normally would mean they sat some distance apart. However, Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin had casually taken seats next to each other with an empty chair between them, and Zhang Beichen had directly taken the spot next to Ran Lin, close enough to easily ruffle his hair without it seeming out of place.

Lu Yiyao subtly frowned.

It wasn’t about Ran Lin’s hair being touched; he wasn’t Ran Lin’s guardian after all. But Zhang Beichen’s display of affection seemed out of place for mere friends, more flirtatious and clingy, making him uncomfortable.

Especially since Ran Lin clearly didn’t like it. He didn’t move away, but his smile wasn’t natural.

Zhang Beichen only ruffled Ran Lin’s hair briefly, but his gaze lingered between the two, finding the situation more interesting than he had anticipated. This meal was proving to be worth it.

The waiter began serving the dishes. They were mostly snacks, small in quantity but exquisite, fitting for a late-night meal. Lu Yiyao didn’t seem to have much appetite. Despite Ran Lin’s genuine praise for the dishes, Lu Yiyao only picked at his food, spending most of the time listening to him and Ran Lin chat.

Zhang Beichen’s intention wasn’t just to chat with Ran Lin; he wanted to connect with Lu Yiyao. But that was his original plan, and now he was more curious about something else…

“Teacher Lu.” Zhang Beichen suddenly called out to Lu Yiyao, a habit from their reality show days which made them feel closer.

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Zhang Beichen tilted his head, asking uncertainly, “The female lead in your drama is… Xi Ruohan?”

Lu Yiyao sensed a trap and didn’t respond immediately.

Ran Lin, not understanding the silence, thought Lu Yiyao didn’t want to talk to Zhang Beichen and answered to avoid awkwardness, “Yes, it’s Xi Ruohan.”

“I remember she worked with Teacher Lu before in <Yun Zhang>, right?” Zhang Beichen continued.

Ran Lin nodded promptly. “Yes, she’s a great actress and very beautiful.”

He had watched <Yun Zhang> even before he developed feelings for Lu Yiyao and revisited it twice after. The drama’s story and quality were genuinely good, independent of his feelings for Lu Yiyao, leading to a positive impression of the female lead.

Seeing Lu Yiyao not responding and Ran Lin being so proactive, Zhang Beichen turned to Ran Lin. “I also heard… she pursued Teacher Lu?”

Ran Lin was momentarily stunned.

Zhang Beichen watched him calmly, not seeming in a rush for an answer. Ran Lin blinked slowly, coming back to his senses, and looked at Lu Yiyao unconsciously.

Lu Yiyao sighed inwardly, further solidifying his lack of rapport with Zhang Beichen. But now, with one asking and the other waiting, he had to acknowledge with a brief smile that barely lingered. “Yes, she did.”

Ran Lin almost blurted out, “Why didn’t you mention this when we were just talking about Xi Ruohan?” but stopped himself in time.

He had no right to demand Lu Yiyao to share such things. Even as friends, there was no obligation to disclose everything.

“Everyone says it’s easy for a woman to pursue a man, so how come you didn’t take a liking to her, Teacher Lu?” Zhang Beichen still seemed genuinely curious.

Ran Lin quickly looked down and took a sip of tea to avoid the ongoing conversation. The tea was light but tasted bitter in his stomach.

Zhang Beichen glanced subtly at Ran Lin, noting his subtle emotional fluctuations. Then he looked back at Lu Yiyao, whose face no longer showed discomfort but rather a colder, more pronounced smile. “It’s just a matter of fate, I guess. If you find her attractive, I can introduce you.”

Zhang Beichen’s expression soured slightly. “We know each other.”

Despite the difference in their status, Zhang Beichen’s popularity wasn’t inferior to Xi Ruohan’s. They had crossed paths at various events, even without direct collaboration. Lu Yiyao’s suggestion seemed a bit disdainful, almost like a subtle jab, which he regretted a bit after saying it.

After all, Zhang Beichen was just being nosy, a trait that, while annoying, wasn’t a major fault.

“Today I’ve been honest with you both. If any rumors come out, I’ll know who to blame,” Lu Yiyao suddenly joked, his face and eyes alight with humor.

Zhang Beichen’s tension eased.

If he had annoyed Lu Yiyao just to satisfy his trivial curiosity, it would have been a poor trade. Things were just right now—he hadn’t really offended Lu Yiyao and had confirmed Ran Lin’s feelings for him.

Although Lu Yiyao hadn’t realized it yet, there was always time. As a melon eater and colleague, Zhang Beichen always enjoyed watching drama unfold.

“I’ll keep it a secret.” Ran Lin’s voice, still full of energy but somewhat forced, rang in his ears.

Zhang Beichen inwardly understood, raising his glass to Lu Yiyao with a loud voice. “Here’s to you, and if anything leaks, it’s on me.”

He then downed his drink.

Lu Yiyao didn’t really care whether they spread rumors or not; he was just giving Zhang Beichen a way out, so he cooperatively raised his glass, smoothly transitioning the late-night meal into the next inconsequential topic.

They dined until half past eleven. Lu Yiyao was the first to suggest leaving, citing an early filming schedule the next day as a valid reason.

Zhang Beichen promptly settled the bill without any intention of prolonging the evening. The dinner had achieved more than its intended purpose—not only did it help build relationships, but it also led to an unexpected discovery, which was enough for him.

Ran Lin, meanwhile, was still pondering over Xi Ruohan. He wasn’t sure why he was so preoccupied with the actress, who had pursued Lu Yiyao but hadn’t succeeded. But he couldn’t help it; his mind was filled with images of Xi Ruohan from <Yun Zhang> and her scenes with Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin realized he was still bothered that Lu Yiyao hadn’t mentioned her pursuit. It didn’t matter whether Lu Yiyao should have told him or not.

The sudden realization that someone you thought you had connected with was keeping things from you was still a bit painful. But then again, he hadn’t told Lu Yiyao that he was gay either. Pretending to be just a friend while earnestly treating someone, when compared, he seemed more at fault.

“What’s wrong?” In the taxi, Lu Yiyao finally found the opportunity to speak with Ran Lin alone.

“What do you mean?” Ran Lin asked, puzzled.

Lu Yiyao sighed. “You haven’t said a word since we left the restaurant.”

Ran Lin realized he might have been overly gloomy and quickly made up an excuse. “Maybe I’m just tired from eating too much at the late-night meal.”

Lu Yiyao was incredulous. “How strenuously can one eat?”

Ran Lin chuckled and then looked out the window.

Theoretically, this was a signal that he wanted some quiet, but Lu Yiyao didn’t pick up on it because he was preoccupied with a question, “Did you find Zhang… uh, him, a bit strange?”

Ran Lin glanced at the taxi driver, who was focused on driving with the window down, the radio on, and completely oblivious to their conversation. Still, it was better to be cautious.

Without mentioning Zhang Beichen’s name, he asked, “What do you mean?”

After a moment’s thought, Lu Yiyao said softly, “I think he might be… gay.”

He said the last word quietly, but Ran Lin heard it clearly. He couldn’t hide his shock and disbelief as he looked at Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao thought Ran Lin’s shock was about the revelation itself and further explained his reasoning. “I’ve met many in England, and I have a few friends like that, so I’m usually not wrong in my judgment.”

Ran Lin swallowed hard, expressing his deep skepticism about this. But what concerned him more was, “Do you… have an issue with it?”

“Of course not,” Lu Yiyao replied without hesitation. “It’s a personal choice, and I fully respect that.”

A still confused Ran Lin hurriedly nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I respect it too.”

Lu Yiyao gave him a look of exasperation. Ran Lin, feeling cornered yet defiant, asked, “Since we both respect it, is there any other issue?”

Lu Yiyao looked at him with a mix of frustration and disappointment, lowering his voice. “There’s no one more oblivious than you. He’s interested in you. Didn’t you notice?”

Ran Lin was stunned for the second time. His mind went blank. Lu Yiyao had figured it out? But then, if Lu Yiyao could even discern Zhang Beichen’s interest in him, then…

“I’m telling you this so you can be more cautious,” Lu Yiyao said earnestly after taking a deep breath. “Men are generally insensitive to these things. Don’t be naive and let yourself be taken advantage of.”

Looking at Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin felt a surge of emotions. Finally, he firmly grasped Lu Yiyao’s hand, saying sincerely, “Let’s both be mindful.”


Kinky Thoughts:

Correction, it’s not a “personal choice”. Though I get where you’re coming from Lu Yiyao.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch40

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 40

“Good! That’s a wrap—”

The last two words felt like music to everyone’s ears. Although no one voiced it, there was a palpable sense of the tension dissipating, and the air began to circulate more freely, as if numerous musical notes were dancing quietly yet mischievously within it.

The crew members were packing up their equipment. Only the two actors exchanged a look and walked together towards the director.

Director Chen got up from his chair, looked at them for a moment, and finally said, “This afternoon was not bad. Let’s continue to work hard tomorrow.”

A weight lifted off the chests of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin.

Both weren’t new to acting, with Lu Yiyao especially being experienced in both TV and film. Yet, facing Director Chen, they felt like novices again, reminiscent of their early days facing the camera with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

A strict teacher produces outstanding students.

Both understood that having a director like Director Chen was a blessing for actors who aspired to excel and break new ground in their craft.

Waiting until Director Chen was far enough away, Liu Wanwan and Li Tong ran over, one offering water to Ran Lin and the other handing coffee to Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin took a sip of water and looked disapprovingly at Lu Yiyao. “It’s almost dark, and you’re still drinking coffee?”

Lu Yiyao replied casually, “It’s fine. I’m used to it. It won’t affect my sleep.”

Ran Lin believed that long-time coffee drinkers could build a tolerance, but remarked, “It keeps your central nervous system in a state of excitement. Even if you don’t feel it and sleep as usual, your brain isn’t really resting.”

“It’s okay,” Lu Yiyao responded nonchalantly, not seeing his personal habit as a matter of concern.

But as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips and caught Ran Lin’s unblinking stare, he somehow couldn’t bring himself to drink.

Ran Lin, noticing his partner’s hesitation, quickly said, “It’s okay. I was just saying. Drink your coffee.”

Lu Yiyao felt reassured and tilted the cup towards his mouth…

“But it can lead to dependency.”

“I don’t feel that strongly about it…”

“Okay, just a reminder. Drink your coffee.”

As the bitter-sweet taste almost reached his lips…

“It can also harm your stomach, especially for us with irregular meals.”

Star Lu gave up, handing the cup back to his assistant. “Never mind. Get me some water instead.”

Li Tong, shifting his gaze between his boss and Ran Lin, finally saw the outcome.

His boss was so easily swayed!

Liu Wanwan sensed something unusual but hesitated to jump to conclusions, considering the bold idea too far-fetched compared to her usual daydreams.

After removing their makeup, the production team arranged for cars to take the actors back to the hotel.

Lu Yiyao’s car arrived first, followed by Ran Lin’s. On the way back, with only familiar faces in the car, Wang Xi said directly to Ran Lin, “I have to go back to Beijing tonight. I might not be able to come here often. If there’s any issue, let Wanwan contact me.”

Ran Lin understood that Han Ze also had a movie offer recently, and since his own shoot was on track, it made sense for Wang Xi to focus on the other project.

“Don’t worry, Xi Jie,” Ran Lin reassured. “I’ll be fine here.”

Wang Xi felt a bit guilty. Although she seemed to manage both sides well on the surface, only she knew where her heart leaned more, hence her apology towards Ran Lin.

Ran Lin didn’t notice Wang Xi’s fleeting emotion as he was reading a new message and considering how to reply.

[Let’s have dinner together tonight.]

Within minutes, they arrived at the hotel. Ran Lin went to his room and picked up his phone to type a response.

Okay, sure, fine, alright…

Ran Lin tried all the tones he could think of, but each seemed too revealing, potentially giving away his emotions. Finally, he simply asked—

[Where?]

Pleased with his response, Ran Lin felt assertive.

The reply came naturally from the other side—[Anywhere is fine. Let’s find a place nearby, or do you have any recommendations?]

When Ran Lin asked “where”, he hadn’t thought much about it. Now he realized—[Can you go out? Won’t you be surrounded by fans?]

Lu Yiyao had a plan for that—[I can disguise myself. I won’t be recognized.]

Ran Lin, skeptical—[Who gave you that confidence?]

Lu Yiyao—[Dark night, a hat, a mask, sunglasses. Foolproof.]

Ran Lin—[Trust me, the public will call the police.]

Lu Yiyao—[ 😓]

Lu Yiyao—[Then come to my room 😊]

Ran Lin, startled by the yellow smiley face, accidentally sent a one-second blank voice message.

The quick response from the other side—[?]

Ran Lin was now certain that his partner had no ulterior motives. The invitation to eat was purely for discussing work. Otherwise, it couldn’t explain such a straightforward and honest atmosphere.

[Let’s do it in my room then. It’s convenient for discussing scenes and lines. 😊]

Lu Yiyao was as cooperative as ever.

Ran Lin sighed, flopped onto the bed, feeling listless for a moment before calmly asking—[Why not come to my room?]

[I’m on the top floor. It’s more secluded and quiet. 🤷]

Ran Lin’s calm was disrupted again…

Using status as an excuse is unfair!

His phone suddenly rang, startling Ran Lin. His phone slipped from his grasp, hitting him in the face…

A novel sensation of pain hit his nose, but the ringing stopped.

Ran Lin froze, ignoring the pain in his nose, and quickly picked up the phone. As expected, he had accidentally hung up on Lu Yiyao.

Embarrassed, Ran Lin hesitantly answered the phone as it rang again, not daring to delay. “Hello?”

Lu Yiyao wasn’t angry, just curious. “Did you accidentally drop the phone just now?”

Although their understanding of “accidental” differed, Ran Lin confidently admitted, “Yeah!”

Lu Yiyao, not suspecting anything, asked, “No problem then? I’ll order the food soon.”

With such a proper invitation to discuss scenes, Ran Lin naturally couldn’t refuse, especially since he wanted to go over tomorrow’s scenes to avoid any more NGs. “No problem.”

“I’ll see you in an hour. I’ll leave the door open, so you can just come in.”

“Okay.”

After hanging up the phone, Ran Lin felt completely at ease.

Initially, he was worried about not being able to control himself around Lu Yiyao, fearing he might embarrassingly throw himself at the lead actor. However, in the presence of his partner’s upright and righteous demeanor, any such frivolous thoughts were quickly dispelled. Then, he was concerned about visiting Lu Yiyao’s room at night, fearing it might spark rumors of a romantic nature, especially if they were caught by someone or, worse, photographed by the paparazzi. But Lu Yiyao had already anticipated this, inviting him openly and directly to rehearse lines, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

It’s said that the entertainment industry hones a person’s wits, and this kind of strategic maneuvering is more intense than even revolutionary times.

But about rehearsing lines…

Ran Lin flipped through the script for the next day’s shoot, reviewing each scene and getting a sense of what to expect.

……

“Lu Ge, are you sure you want all these?” Li Tong was bewildered as he listened to his boss order dish after dish.

Lu Yiyao, still focused on the hotel’s menu, flipped through it and shook his head dissatisfiedly. “The variety is too limited, but it should be more hygienic… Okay, let’s go with these.”

Li Tong took the menu, feeling there was no need to remember it. He could just call the front desk and say, “You have a menu, right? The one in every room. Yeah, I’d like to order one of everything in it.”

Boss, are you planning a banquet?

The obedient assistant made the call to order the food, while Lu Yiyao headed to the bathroom for a shower.

After a whole day, he was quite tired, especially when Director Chen called, “That’s a wrap.” He felt like collapsing on the spot.

But now, thinking about Ran Lin coming over soon so they could go over tomorrow’s scenes, he not only felt less tired but also a bit excited and looking forward to it. This anticipation reminded him of the nights before going camping during his school days, filled with romantic imaginations about the camping site. Although reality often fell short of his fantasies, the happiness on those nights before was always at its peak.

Lu Yiyao took his time in the shower, occasionally humming English songs. After showering, he leisurely dried his hair and patted some toner on his face before coming out.

The room was already filled with the enticing aroma of food.

Li Tong was guarding two trolleys laden with dishes, relieved to see his boss finally emerge from the bathroom. “Lu Ge, do you want to leave the dishes on the trolleys, or should I set them on the table?”

Lu Yiyao instructed, “Set them on the table.”

Li Tong quickly arranged the dishes on the table, turning it into a lavish spread without any empty space left.

Lu Yiyao was satisfied. “Okay, you can go back now.”

Li Tong had been called over by Lu Yiyao after the latter had finished talking to Ran Lin, so he only knew about the feast but not the guest. Dismissed so abruptly, he left with curiosity burning inside him.

As soon as Li Tong left, Lu Yiyao changed into comfortable clothes and approached the door, intending to open it wide as a gesture of openness.

As he pulled the door open, he expected to see an empty hallway. Instead, he was greeted by a surprised Ran Lin… and Tang Xiaoyu.

“You heard me coming with such light footsteps?” Ran Lin asked, puzzled.

Lu Yiyao didn’t catch on, his attention fixed on Tang Xiaoyu.

Tang Xiaoyu, having received Ran Lin’s invitation for dinner and line rehearsal, hadn’t suspected anything. With a crucial three-person scene scheduled for the next day, being invited by Lu Yiyao to rehearse seemed perfectly in line with his reputation for professionalism.

But Lu Yiyao’s current expression… didn’t quite fit the welcoming category.

“You said we were going to rehearse lines,” Ran Lin quickly explained, realizing that Lu Yiyao hadn’t personally invited Tang Xiaoyu. Although he thought Lu Yiyao wouldn’t mind, he couldn’t be sure, so he took the initiative. “Tomorrow’s most important scene is the three of us becoming sworn brothers.”

Lu Yiyao swallowed, his mind churning. Ran Lin’s explanation seemed flawless. In fact, he felt a bit annoyed at himself for forgetting about Tang Xiaoyu, which was quite unlike him.

The only explanation he could think of was that he had been so focused on scenes with Ran Lin all day that he inadvertently forgot about Tang Xiaoyu as a co-star.

Satisfied with his self-assessment, Lu Yiyao briskly invited his two partners in.

Tang Xiaoyu, seeing the table laden with dishes, felt reassured—Lu Yiyao must have also invited him; otherwise, how could he explain such an extravagant spread?

Ran Lin was equally astonished by the array of dishes, looking at Lu Yiyao with disbelief, wondering if he had anticipated everything.

Lu Yiyao gave a slight smile, nonchalantly saying, “I like to be prepared.”

The meal was enjoyable, and Lu Yiyao noticed that Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu seemed very familiar with each other, not like their first encounter on the reality show or even in the drama set, but more like long-time friends.

Curious, he asked, “Did you two meet after the reality show?”

Both replied in unison, “No.”

Lu Yiyao tilted his head, puzzled. “But you two seem like old friends.”

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu exchanged glances and smiled.

Lu Yiyao didn’t like the unspoken understanding between them… It felt too exclusive.

“You’re just too reserved,” Tang Xiaoyu said, feeling more comfortable talking to Lu Yiyao after the meal, believing they had bridged some of their distance.

Lu Yiyao frowned, turning to Ran Lin with a questioning look as if to ask, “Do you think so too?”

Ran Lin read the inquiry in Lu Yiyao’s eyes and immediately shook his head. “No, I don’t think you’re reserved.”

Lu Yiyao was pleased.

Ran Lin added, “You’ve always been warm.”

Lu Yiyao: “…”

What the hell kind of ambiguous compliments are these!

Deciding to drop the topic for fear of a heart rate imbalance, Lu Yiyao suggested, “If we’re almost done eating, let’s start rehearsing.”

Ran Lin agreed. “Sounds good. It’ll help digest the food.”

“Uh, I have a suggestion.” Tang Xiaoyu raised his hand. “Since tomorrow is about us becoming sworn brothers, shouldn’t we deepen our understanding of each other and cultivate some brotherly affection?”

Lu Yiyao didn’t quite grasp the concept. “How do we do that?”

“I’ll go first.” Tang Xiaoyu stood up, gazing ahead, and began introducing himself seriously. “My name is Tang Xiaoyu, 25 years old, lively and cheerful, generous in spirit, respectful to my parents and colleagues. My girlfriend is… Ah, I can’t say that… Um, where was I?”

Ran Lin: “Your girlfriend…”

Lu Yiyao: “Can’t say.”

Tang Xiaoyu: “…I was asking about before that!”

Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao exchanged a look, having reached an understanding. “We are just interested in your girlfriend.”

“…” Tang Xiaoyu regretted coming to this meal.

Comrade Xiaoyu, strong in his bonds, eventually didn’t reveal even half a word about his girlfriend’s true identity.

Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao had their fun and didn’t press him further.

The second to introduce himself was Lu Yiyao.

Actually, he didn’t really want to share too much about himself. Moreover, it was Tang, Fang, and Xu who were to become sworn brothers, not Lu, Ran, Tang… Wait, they both had the surname Tang?

Tang Xiaoyu looked bewilderedly at Lu Yiyao, whose mind seemed to be drifting further away, his gaze becoming increasingly unfocused. Just as he was wondering, someone patted his shoulder.

Turning around, he met Ran Lin’s knowing eyes.

“That’s just how he is,” Ran Lin said. “A professional daydreamer for a hundred years.”

Suddenly, Tang Xiaoyu felt a bit envious of the friendship between these two—to know and understand each other so well!

Finally, Lu Yiyao came back to his senses and began to introduce himself. Besides his middle school and university, he talked about his favorite music and books, emphasizing his love for still photos from dramas, sharing with his friends the “promotional effect of still photos on acting”. However, unfortunately, his colleagues didn’t seem to deeply feel the same.

The last to introduce himself was Ran Lin, who actually thought he didn’t have much to say. Besides his age and birthplace, all he had was, “I love to eat buns, drink soy milk, like acting, and yeah, acting is what I love the most.”

Lu Yiyao, seeing the sparkle in Ran Lin’s eyes when he talked about acting, suddenly remembered what a director had told him during a reshoot—

Your eyes lack passion for acting.

At that time, he didn’t understand what that meant, but now, he might have found the answer.

“That’s not right. Your introduction isn’t complete.”

Tang Xiaoyu suddenly spoke up, interrupting Lu Yiyao’s thoughts and drawing Ran Lin’s attention.

“Not complete?” Ran Lin was puzzled.

“You’re still holding back something from us.” Tang Xiaoyu chuckled, suddenly pulling out a smartphone from behind like a magician, playing a small video on its lit screen.

“I’m eating fried chicken in People’s Square~~ where are you at this moment~~ although you might be making a feint to the east but attack in the west~~ but fatigue has made me too lazy to doubt…”

Ran Lin facepalmed, suddenly wanting to hack into a server and delete this video.

Lu Yiyao, seeing Ran Lin holding a guitar for the first time, was like discovering a new world. “What song is this?”

Tang Xiaoyu felt awkward, feeling that Lu Yiyao was focusing on the wrong thing.

Ran Lin quickly answered, “‘Eating Fried Chicken in People’s Square’.”

Lu Yiyao recognized it as Miya’s advertisement, becoming even more puzzled. “Why isn’t this played in the ad if it’s so good?”

The natural compliment left people feeling elated.

Ran Lin, trying to keep his mouth from curling up in joy, explained, “The manufacturer needs to match their own advertising words.”

Lu Yiyao frowned. “Knowing that they would add lyrics in post-production, you could have just strummed the guitar and sung anything, why bother with lip-syncing?”

Ran Lin: “…”

Tang Xiaoyu: “…”

Ran, Tang: “I (He) was really singing!”

Ran, Tang: “And really playing the guitar!”

Lu Yiyao was baffled, narrowing his eyes discontentedly. “That’s enough, you don’t have to be so in sync…”

……

Across the street, in a room at a corresponding height in another building, a long-lense camera was peeking through the gap in the curtains, aimed at Lu Yiyao’s room.

Three unkempt young men, with dark circles under their eyes, took turns surveilling.

The one currently in charge was a young man with curly hair, tall and thin, wearing jeans that had been washed white and a slightly wrinkled T-shirt.

Another young man sitting on the bed in sweatpants, sipping a Red Bull, asked, “How’s it going?”

The curly-haired guy sighed, unable to hear anything and could only judge from the images seen through the lens. “It’s still the same, eating, drinking, chatting—the atmosphere seems good.”

The third young guy, sitting on a chair, was slightly overweight and bald, constantly fiddling with a DSLR camera. Hearing his colleagues’ conversation, he chimed in. “Did Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin really become friends?”

The curly-haired guy replied, “From what we’ve observed so far, it seems so.”

The guy in sweatpants scoffed disbelievingly. “Come on. There’s no true friendship in the entertainment industry. Everything in this world is driven by profit…”

Click.

The guy in sweatpants looked bewilderedly at the bald guy. “Why are you taking a picture of me?”

The bald guy put down the camera, sincerely saying, “You’re wasted as a paparazzo. Really, you should be on a talk show.”

“Fuck off.” The guy in sweatpants kicked him irritably.

“You two are so energetic. It’s your turn to take over.” The curly-haired guy had had enough and passed on the baton.

The guy in sweatpants looked at the time; it was indeed time for a shift change, and he obediently stood up to take over.

Ever since Lu Yiyao checked into this hotel, they had been keeping an eye on him. Apart from filming, as long as Lu Yiyao was in his room, they hadn’t missed a second.

Lu Yiyao was currently one of the few popular stars with the least amount of scandal, and if they could break a big story about such a star, the impact would be explosive!

Moreover, Lu Yiyao wasn’t particularly vigilant, perhaps feeling that he had nothing to fear from exposure. The curtains were sometimes drawn, sometimes not, mostly depending on his mood. Even when drawn, they were mostly sheer curtains, and if there was light, the silhouettes inside were still clearly visible and distinguishable.

“If you ask me, we should wait for Xi Ruohan to join the cast. Didn’t she have a rumored affair with Lu Yiyao?” Looking for a while and seeing no promising developments for the night, the guy in sweatpants could only fantasize about the future to pass the time.

Xi Ruohan was the lead actress of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> and was scheduled to join the cast in a week, according to the information they had received.

“That’s no rumor. Xi Ruohan started it herself.” The curly-haired guy took the half-finished Red Bull from the guy in sweatpants, downing it in one gulp before continuing, “She chased after Lu Yiyao, but he didn’t pay her any attention.”

The bald guy, new to the team, was unaware of this episode and widened his eyes in surprise. “Xi Ruohan, such a beautiful woman throwing herself at him, and Lu Yiyao resisted? Not even a fleeting romance?”

The bald guy, who had recently joined the group, was unfamiliar with this story and widened his eyes in surprise. “Xi Ruohan, such a beautiful woman throwing herself at him, and Lu Yiyao is able to resist? Isn’t there always some fleeting romance?”

“Let’s not use those fancy words. Just say it straight—hooking up.” The curly-haired guy scratched his messy hair, sighing at the end. “I really wish there was something between them. I’ve been squatting here for a month, only seeing Xi Ruohan getting the cold shoulder. Lu Yiyao is really something, never even opening his door once.”

“That’s news too. Xi Ruohan is quite a flower among flowers, right?” The bald guy perked up. “A top actress visiting three times and the male star turning her away—that’s explosive news with lots of implications.”

In the entertainment circle, young actresses who are just starting out are usually called “little flowers1”. Those who have some acting skills and reputation but are still a long way from being top-tier actresses, are called “middle flowers2”. And the top-tier actresses, of course, are the “big flowers3” and there are only a few in the circle.

1[Xiao Hua] (小花) Refers to almost all young actresses, regardless of their popularity, reputation, and acting skills.
2[Zhong Hua] (中花) Refers to those who have not yet reached the Da Hua (big flower) level but are above Xiao Hua in terms of notable works, awards, and industry recognitions.
3[Da Hua] (大花) Refers to those who have years of experience, good acting skills, numerous mainstream awards, notable works that are recognized by the general public, and great impact in the industry. 

That’s why the bald guy was surprised, wondering why the curly-haired guy hadn’t leaked this juicy gossip. Both parties involved were popular and had a following; even a failed attempt at seduction would definitely make a big noise.

The curly-haired guy sighed, not really wanting to answer.

The guy in sweatpants turned his head away from the telephoto lens, helping to answer. “Can’t you guess? They were paid off.”

The bald guy was surprised. “Xi Ruohan’s team?”

The curly-haired guy gave him a look. “Who else? Lu Yiyao’s team? He’s like the modern day Liuxia Hui*. There was no need to pay us off!”

*Was a man of eminent virtue and is said on one occasion to have held a lady in his lap without the slightest imputation on his moral character. When he died, his wife insisted on pronouncing a funeral oration over his body, urging that none knew his great merits so well as her.

The bald guy, holding his camera, pondered for a long time but still stuck to his opinion. “I don’t believe there are men in this world who can resist temptation unless they’re not interested in women at all.”

The curly-haired guy said, “You think I haven’t considered that? But at least on the women’s side, Xi Ruohan was making moves. For the men, I haven’t seen anyone close to Lu Yiyao. Even his current friend, Ran Lin, is probably the closest relationship he has.”

“Deeply closeted. Not surprising,” the bald guy concluded about Lu Yiyao.

The curly-haired guy was speechless. “So now there are three guys in his room, so it’s a threesome?”

The bald guy shrugged. “Maybe.”

The curly-haired guy. “Have you ever seen a threesome with the door open?”

The guy in sweatpants. “Fuck—”

The bald and curly-haired guys both jumped. “What? Really?!”

The guy in sweatpants swallowed hard, not knowing how to describe this shocking scene. He thought for a while and decided to describe what he saw. “All three of them knelt down together…”

……

Inside Lu Yiyao’s room.

“I, Tang Jingyu.”

“I, Fang Xian.”

“I, Xu Chongfei.”

“Today, we become sworn brothers! Entrusting our lives to each other, sharing fortunes and misfortunes, helping each other in good times and bad, with heaven and earth as our witnesses, and the mountains and rivers as our covenant, we vow to remain steadfast in our brotherhood and never betray each other!”

Thud—

Three heads hit the floor, making a single, unified sound, but it was earth-shattering.

……

In the paparazzi room across the hotel.

The three took turns looking through the telephoto lens, with the bald guy being the last one. He felt a chill, his scalp tingling. “They’re not possessed, are they…?”

“It doesn’t seem like it. They all look quite sober…” The guy in sweatpants had his own guess. “Could it be some secret dark organization?”

“You’ve been watching too much Detective Conan.” The curly-haired guy pulled out a stack of materials and threw it on the table in front of the two. “I always tell you, know your enemy and know yourself, and you will be victorious in every battle*. Take a good look. We need to know what scenes they are shooting tomorrow.”

*Famous quote from The Art of War by Sun Tzu.

After reading the materials, the guy in sweatpants and the bald guy had a moment of realization.

The guy in sweatpants felt cheated. “They should be filming on set, not in a hotel. Scaring people to death, do you know that!”

The bald guy didn’t share this view. Knowing the truth dissipated his sense of horror, leaving only a deep impression. “Being an actor isn’t easy…”

Saying that, he looked through the lens at the opposite side again. By this time, the three had already stood up, looking at each other with the fervor and sincerity of brothers who had just sworn an oath. Even from this distance, the bald guy could feel their brotherly bond.

“They act so well…” The bald guy felt that he might start to become a fan of these three.

……

At 11:30 p.m., after seeing off his two colleagues, Lu Yiyao finally closed the door that had been open for a long time and took another shower.

The messy cups and plates had been cleared away, and the room had been ventilated, leaving no lingering scent of food. However, after coming out of the shower, there was a hint of shower gel fragrance.

Lu Yiyao drew the curtains, dimmed the lights, and leisurely lay back on the bed.

Strangely, he usually felt sleepy after drinking coffee at this hour, but today, without a drop of coffee, he wasn’t sleepy at all and felt energetic enough to do several backflips.

In the dim and faint light, Lu Yiyao turned his head left and right to make sure there were no eyes in the dark, then quietly took out his phone, entered Weibo, and searched for the keywords “Ran Lin + guitar”.

Ran Lin’s fans eagerly shared many posts. Lu Yiyao plugged in his headphones, randomly clicked on one, and soon, the melody of “Eating Fried Chicken in People’s Square” filled his ears.

Ran Lin’s voice was clear and melodious, gentle as jade, but when singing, there was a hint of huskiness.

This lazy and sexy huskiness was completely unlike Ran Lin, so Lu Yiyao naturally assumed Ran Lin was just lip-syncing.

And the guitar.

Lu Yiyao never thought Ran Lin could play an instrument.

This friend was like a kaleidoscope; just when you think you’ve seen all there is to see, he surprises you with something new and dazzling.

“I’m eating~ fried chicken in People’s Square~~~” Lu Yiyao hummed unconsciously, then immediately snapped back to reality, his face full of disbelief.

This song was too catchy!

Throwing away the phone, taking off the headphones, Lu Yiyao turned over, turned off the light, and decided to sleep quickly, lest the catchy tune haunt his dreams.

His nose brushed against the pillow, and a fresh scent wafted in—the smell of his hair that he had just washed… the scent of Miya shampoo.

He wondered if Ran Lin would use the shampoo he endorsed. He should have smelled it when they were rehearsing.

—Before falling asleep, the trivial question that Lu Yiyao pondered was whether Ran Lin used the same brand of shampoo.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch39

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 39

Setting up an offering table, lighting incense, and the director’s speech… With the red cloth lifted from the camera, <Sword of Fallen Flowers> officially began filming!

Invited journalists crowded around the main creators, seizing the chance for up-close interviews before the makeup and shooting began.

With no lead actress present, the male stars Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin, and Tang Xiaoyu naturally became the primary targets of the media. Each holding several microphones adorned with various logos, they evenly distributed the burden.

“God Lu, what kind of role will you be challenging in this film?”

“God Lu, what attracted you to this drama?”

“God Lu, has your experience changed from working with Ran Lin in a reality show to a TV drama?”

Xiaoyu1, what’s it like to partner with God Lu again?”

“…”

Lu Yiyao stood in the center, with Tang Xiaoyu and Ran Lin on either side. The journalists’ questions were rapid-fire, mostly directed at the male lead, with occasional queries for Tang Xiaoyu, while Ran Lin had yet to be asked.

With a natural smile, Ran Lin dutifully played the part of a decorative vase.

Lu Yiyao, accustomed to such scenes, waited for the journalists to finish their flurry of questions. When the noise subsided, he picked the questions he preferred to answer. “Firstly, ‘God Lu’ is just a playful nickname from fans. Please don’t call me that. It’s embarrassing. In this drama, I play Tang Jingyu, a character who constantly evolves and grows. He starts carefree, then becomes darker upon learning about his enemy, but ultimately achieves self-realization. It’s a character with a dark side that I’ve always wanted to try but never had the chance. I really like it and hope to portray this role well.”

His answer was standard and safe, but not particularly exciting.

Just as Lu Yiyao was about to pass the microphone to Tang Xiaoyu, indicating it was time for his old friend nicknamed “Xiaoyu1” by fans and journalists to continue answering questions. A persistent journalist loudly repeated the most sensitive question—

1Clarity: The reporters are calling him Little/Small Fish [xiǎo yú] (鱼) which is a nickname given to him by his fans, since it sounds close to his name [Xiǎoyù] (晓遇).

“Has your experience changed from working with Ran Lin in a reality show to a TV drama?”

Tang Xiaoyu, ready to speak, swallowed his prepared words, giving Lu Yiyao a resigned look of “you can’t dodge this one.”

Lu Yiyao glanced at Ran Lin, who faced the journalists with a constant smile, as unwavering as a plastic flower.

He was sure Ran Lin understood the malice in the question, but even Tang Xiaoyu gave him a look, suggesting Ran Lin wasn’t unaffected. Was the lack of reaction due to familiarity with such malice or confidence in his friend being questioned?

Lu Yiyao thought it was the former but hoped for the latter.

After pondering for two seconds, Lu Yiyao looked up, graced with a charming smile like a spring breeze. “Speaking of changes in feelings, there’s actually quite a big one…”

Journalists perked up, expecting a vague response, but he directly addressed the key point.

“When recording the variety show, we weren’t that close, but now, I’m genuinely afraid I’ll break character and laugh with him.” Lu Yiyao passed the microphone to Ran Lin. “Teacher Ran, what do you think?”

Caught off guard by the sudden handover, Ran Lin momentarily hesitated.

Lu Yiyao was pleased with the effect he caused—a stunned Ran Lin was livelier than one with a forced smile.

The journalists were also surprised by the response. It wasn’t quite evasive; he mentioned they were now so familiar they might break character, but it also wasn’t a groundbreaking revelation.

“I don’t think I’ll break character…”

Ran Lin’s voice, clear and gentle, interrupted the journalists’ inner chaos, some even eager to hear more.

“After all, Teacher Lu in this drama has tricked me terribly…” Ran Lin said, looking frankly at Lu Yiyao, his eyes full of teasing threats. “I’m already in character, so watch out.”

Lu Yiyao, facing Ran Lin’s harmless gentlemanly appearance, was suddenly intrigued by his partner’s potential darker side. “I have no good solution. I’ll just keep deceiving.”

Tang Xiaoyu saw his opportunity, earnestly lamenting to the journalists. “Now you know how miserable I am. As the third male lead, I’m the biggest source of anguish in this drama. Troubled love life, complicated brotherhood—who’s more pitiable than me!”

The journalists laughed, and the topic naturally shifted.

Fifteen minutes later, crew members arrived with the legitimate reason of “actors needing makeup”, politely ending the interview and escorting the three male actors away.

Makeup and styling for historical dramas take much longer than modern dramas, even though male actors require less time than females. Still, it took nearly two hours for the three main male actors to transform completely.

Ran Lin looked at the reflection of Fang Xian in the mirror, dressed in magnificent clothes with a milky white base and golden embroidery, showcasing his noble birth with a cloud-patterned belt and a jade dragon pendant. He looked every bit the pampered young master of a martial arts family, the kind more inclined to luxury than learning.

His hairstyle was crafted to be suave and dashing. All the hair at the temples and forehead was pulled back, revealing a widow’s peak, with long hair naturally falling at the back, creating a classic, gentle, and handsome ancient look.

Lu Yiyao’s styling was simpler in comparison.

The hairstylist gathered all his hair into a neat bun, leaving only a widow’s peak and some tousled bangs, complementing his sharp eyebrows and peach blossom eyes. Even without speaking, he exuded decisiveness and resolve.

His attire was dark, devoid of any ostentatious patterns, understated and plain, more befitting the role of Fang Xian’s protector than that of a foster son in the Fang Clan. This matched his status in the family—in name, he was a young master, but in reality, just another dog raised by Fang Huanzhi.

But Fang Xian didn’t see it that way.

Ran Lin, who had finished his styling first, circled around him twice, genuinely admiring. “You look good.”

Lu Yiyao’s favorite compliment was of this sort. While raising his arm to allow the stylist to fasten the hidden buttons on his costume, he returned the compliment. “You look pretty good too.”

Ran Lin thought for a moment and shook his head. “I still prefer your outfit, though. It’s not ostentatious, looks low-key yet profound, and seems easy to move in.”

Lu Yiyao asked, “Are you referring to the clothes when you say ‘good-looking’?”

Ran Lin, noticing the obvious disappointment on the face of the lead actor, quickly realized, “No, I mean you, the person!”

Lu Yiyao, somewhat frustrated, replied, “Too late.”

Ran Lin sighed and turned to Tang Xiaoyu, who was still having his eyebrows done, for help. “Has Teacher Lu always been so… concerned about his looks?”

Tang Xiaoyu, unable to move his head to avoid disturbing the makeup artist, struggled to respond with minimal mouth movement. “Not just…”

Ran Lin raised an eyebrow.

Lu Yiyao seemed somewhat reassured.

Tang Xiaoyu continued, “Not just the looks. He cares about his hairstyle too.”

Lu Yiyao looked away, pretending not to hear anything.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but laugh; indeed, working with old partners had its risks and required caution.

When all three were almost done with their makeup, another male actor entered the makeup room—Zhong Jiakun, playing Fang Huanzhi.

The veteran actor, nearly sixty years old, was still energetic and fit, with a profound gaze and a face that showed maturity and dignity.

Regardless of their status, the three greeted him respectfully. “Teacher Zhong—”

“Don’t make me sound so old.” Zhong Jiakun’s voice was magnetic and robust, obviously honed from years of performing in stage dramas. “Let’s learn from each other and make progress together.”

Zhong Jiakun’s scenes were scheduled for the afternoon, so he wasn’t required to come in early that morning. The director’s assistant came in to check on the styling progress, and seeing it was almost complete, immediately called the three male actors to take their costume photos.

The director had no objections to the styling, and the costume photoshoot went smoothly—Tang Jingyu looked stern, Fang Xian dashing, and Xu Chongfei righteous.

After the photoshoot, Tang Xiaoyu rushed off to the B set for his scenes with supporting actors, leaving Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin at the A set to start their first scene of the day.

A small bridge over running water, a dark red corridor, and a pavilion in the middle of the water with a stone table, laid with pastries and a pot of tea.

Tang Jingyu sat by the stone table, poised, gazing into the distance.

Fang Xian lay on top of the pavilion, his body under the hexagonal eaves and glazed tiles, with the clear blue sky above. He crossed his legs in a relaxed manner, a straw dangling from his mouth. The straw swayed with the movement of his feet, wasting his handsome appearance that was as exquisite as a jade carving.

They were waiting for someone from the Liuhua Palace to pass by.

The resurgence of the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual in Liuma Town had led them to believe that someone from the Liuhua Palace had crucial clues. They were lying in wait, hoping to follow someone from the palace to gather information.

Originally, only Tang Jingyu was dispatched by Fang Huanzhi. However, his typically carefree and ignorant younger son also insisted on coming along. Fang Huanzhi, who didn’t value this son much, let him be, and thus Fang Xian enthusiastically followed his “good brother”.

Yes, he thought he and Tang Jingyu were good brothers.

But at this moment, Tang Jingyu had already begun to suspect Fang Huanzhi and was gradually confirming whether his foster father was indeed responsible for the annihilation of the Tang Clan. And Fang Xian, from being a simple good brother, had become a pawn in his game.

“Hey.” Fang Xian, lying above, gazing at the sky, casually chatted with Tang Jingyu. “Do you think someone from Liuhua Palace will really come?”

Inside the pavilion, Tang Jingyu’s expression remained unchanged, his voice steady. “Be patient.”

“I heard that Zhao Buyao is stunningly beautiful yet cold as ice towards others. I really want to see her with my own eyes…”

“Cut!”

Director Chen, from behind the monitor, called for a halt without mercy. “The emotion is off. Let’s do it again!”

The entire crew remained silent.

Usually, for the first scene and first shot, it’s normal for actors to struggle to get into the right state, and directors tend to be gentler. But Director Chen was stern and unyielding from the start, not sparing any feelings.

No one dared to speak, just waiting for the actors to react.

Ran Lin lay on the pavilion’s glazed tiles. A small shift would risk a slide, so he just slightly turned his head to give Director Chen an “I got it” look, then continued gazing at the sky.

Compared to him, Lu Yiyao was more fortunate. He got up, stretched his muscles, and sat back down on the stone bench, sitting straight as if wearing a posture corrector, looking into the distance.

“Action,” the director said, returning behind the monitor.

The script supervisor stepped forward to clap the board. “<Sword of Fallen Flowers> Scene 77, Take 2…”

Click!

With the sound of the clapboard, Fang Xian’s straw immediately began swaying again. “Hey, do you think someone from Liuhua Palace will really come?”

Tang Jingyu absentmindedly replied, “Be patient.”

Fang Xian, full of longing, looked past the sunshade above him, around the camera on the crane, finally reaching the sky. “I heard that Zhao Buyao is stunningly beautiful, yet cold as ice towards others…”

“Cut!”

The director called even earlier this time.

The crane operator sighed almost inaudibly, while the camera operators capturing Lu Yiyao and the other cameras behind them were somewhat helpless.

Frankly, for just these two lines, they, as laymen, couldn’t really tell if the emotions were right or wrong. In the lens, both actors were handsome from every angle, and the composition was perfect. It was unclear what exactly the director was dissatisfied with.

Director Chen finally stood up, came out from behind the monitor, and walked into the pavilion. Lu Yiyao quickly stood up, and Ran Lin, sensing something was amiss, carefully climbed up and leaned on the pavilion’s protruding eaves, peering down.

Director Chen looked up at Fang Xian, who lacked any grace, and rubbed his head wearily. “Come down for now.”

A quick-witted crew member immediately brought over a ladder to help Young Master Fang climb down.

Ran Lin, while climbing down, envied Lu Yiyao—his character in the drama was set to have his meridians1 severed by Fang Huanzhi from a young age, rendering him unable to practice qinggong2 or any internal force3-based martial arts. He could only practice some basic hand and foot techniques for self-defense, so he had no scenes in high places, let alone any wire stunts.

1Concept in Chinese medicine that allows you to channel qi (energy) throughout your body. When a meridian is severed/sealed, it cripples or immobilizes that person.
2The ability to lighten the body and move with great agility & swiftness. At high proficiency, practitioners of this skill can run across water, leap to the top of trees, or even glide through the air.
3[Neijin] (内力) or [neigong] (內功) is commonly used in martial arts and Chinese medicine. It’s considered a source of energy, strength, and agility for combat and can be harnessed through cultivation. || In wuxia and xianxia context, it’s basically energy that gives cultivators superhuman powers.

While reading the script, he was absolutely delighted. Amid his random thoughts, Ran Lin had already landed and immediately joined Lu Yiyao inside the pavilion to listen to the director’s guidance.

The director didn’t need the actors to guess his thoughts, speaking directly. “Both of your emotions are off. Tang Jingyu is currently preoccupied with Fang Huanzhi, who’s still at the Fang residence. He’s only dealing with Fang Xian, but his whole state isn’t distracted; it’s contemplative. Your gaze is too scattered. There’s nothing in your eyes. If you can’t get into the emotion, how can you bring the audience into it?”

“And you.” Director Chen turned to Ran Lin. “You’re not deeply in love yet. All your fantasies about Zhao Buyao are based on her being beautiful, so what you need to express is frivolity, not a lover. If you want depth, there will be plenty of opportunities later.”

“Take a ten-minute break. Both of you go over there and work on your emotions.” As soon as Director Chen finished speaking, the two actors hadn’t reacted yet, but the crew members from various departments—camera, lighting, sound, etc.—immediately switched to a relaxed state, easing the tension.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin exchanged glances—they were each other’s only comfort now. Any actor with a sense of responsibility wouldn’t want to delay the progress of the production due to their own shortcomings. Their disappointment in themselves was coupled with guilt towards the hardworking crew members.

Seeing Lu Yiyao still pondering in place, Ran Lin decisively pulled him to a secluded and quiet spot in the corridor, away from the crew.

“What do you think?” Ran Lin asked directly, given the limited time.

Lu Yiyao was perplexed. “I have no idea right now. This scene isn’t emotionally intense, and I don’t know what effect Director Chen wants.”

Ran Lin looked at him silently.

Lu Yiyao looked back at his partner expectantly, waiting for a revelation…

“I don’t know either,” Ran Lin admitted, spreading his hands.

Lu Yiyao felt like pinching his face.

“But—” Ran Lin quickly changed his tone. “I can’t get into the role right now. I feel like the person below is you, Lu Yiyao, not Tang Jingyu.”

Lu Yiyao felt uncomfortable with the term “below”, but that wasn’t the point. “You can’t get into the role either?”

Ran Lin was surprised. “Either?”

Lu Yiyao confirmed. “Yes, when I say my lines, I feel like the person above is you. There’s no trace of Fang Xian in my mind.”

Why did he have to use “above” as well…

“That’s the issue.” Ran Lin seemed to understand what Director Chen meant by incorrect emotions. “We’re too familiar with each other, which makes it harder to get into our characters.”

Lu Yiyao, still confused, frowned. “In my last project, my first scene was confessing love to the female lead. I didn’t even know her before that, but we got it in one take.”

Ran Lin looked at him, unamused. “Sorry, I couldn’t spark with you like the female lead.”

Lu Yiyao smiled but, seeing his partner’s displeased expression, thought better of continuing.

Silence fell in the corridor.

Identifying the problem was easy; solving it was hard.

“Let’s do this,” Ran Lin said seriously, looking deeply into Lu Yiyao’s eyes. “From now on, forget that you’re Lu Yiyao. You are Tang Jingyu, and I’ll do the same.”

Lu Yiyao was surprised because he was thinking along the same lines as Ran Lin.

Ran Lin took a deep breath, turned towards the lake, and stood silently for several seconds. Then slowly, he turned back and looked at Tang Jingyu, asking deliberately, “When you found out that my father might be the one who destroyed your family, what did you think?”

This wasn’t Ran Lin; this was Fang Xian, holding back unbelievable pain, seeking confirmation from Tang Jingyu with a last glimmer of hope.

Lu Yiyao lowered his eyes and, miraculously, easily slipped into character. He was Tang Jingyu, the man who, in his quest for revenge, wouldn’t hesitate to use his sincere brother…

His gaze lifted again, the smile gone, replaced by Tang Jingyu’s struggle. “I couldn’t think of anything else. I just wanted to verify my suspicions at all costs.”

Pain flickered in Fang Xian’s eyes—the carefree young master of the Fang Clan, who loved and feared nothing, was also capable of getting hurt. “Even if it meant using me?”

Tang Jingyu shook his head slightly. “I couldn’t think of anything else. I just needed to confirm whether your father was the one who destroyed my family.”

Fang Xian’s voice trembled faintly with suppressed emotion. “We grew up together—more than a decade of brotherhood. Didn’t you hesitate even a bit when you used me?”

“No.” Tang Jingyu was decisive. “Even if I did later, at that moment, there was no hesitation at all.”

Fang Xian’s eyes reddened. “So, not even a bit of remorse?”

Tang Jingyu hesitated, then said softly after a while, “There is. But it can’t compete with my desire to find my family’s destroyer…”

“Look at me.” Fang Xian slightly lifted his head, his body unconsciously drawing closer to his former brother, close enough to feel each other’s breath. “Who am I in your eyes now?”

Tang Jingyu didn’t hesitate this time; his heart was clear. “A brother I owe the most.”

Fang Xian stared intently at him. “Remember, that’s your feeling towards me.”

Tang Jingyu suddenly asked, “And yours towards me?”

Fang Xian lowered his eyes, then lifted them again, firm. “I recognize you as a brother. Once recognized, it’s for life. Even if I have to kill you later, you’re still my brother.”

“Teacher Lu, Teacher Ran, we’re ready to continue shooting…” The director’s assistant hurried over, breathless, to inform them.

The two returned to the pavilion, Ran Lin climbed back up, and Lu Yiyao sat down straight again. The ladder was removed, the crane lifted, and cameras got into position—

“<Sword of Fallen Flowers> Scene 77, Take 3…”

Click!

“Hey, do you think someone from Liuhua Palace will really come?” Fang Xian looked at the sky, casually asking, his toes pointing up, swaying along with the straw in his mouth, the breeze brushing through his hair, making him look even more handsome and carefree.

“Be patient.” Tang Jingyu withdrew his distant gaze and quietly poured himself a cup of tea.

His movements were slow, like a ritual, and his voice was unchanged, but his eyes were unfathomably deep.

Fang Xian couldn’t see him, still lost in fantasies about the beauty. “I heard that Zhao Buyao is stunningly beautiful yet cold as ice to others. I really want to see her with my own eyes.”

Tang Jingyu offered a slight smile, but the warmth didn’t reach his deep, profound eyes. “Liuhua Palace is known in the martial world for its use of poison. If you’re not afraid of death, feel free to flirt.”

“What are you saying!”

Fang Xian, dissatisfied, suddenly stood up and leapt down—though it was just for show.

“Cut!” The director emerged from behind the monitor for the third time.

The two heroes, one above and one below the pavilion, held their breath…

“Pass!”

Thank God.

Quick as shadows, the crew brought a ladder, and Ran Lin, the great hero, finally bid farewell to his precarious position aloft. He climbed down, not very gracefully, to stand with Lu Yiyao in the middle of the pavilion.

Later, Ran Lin would join the action scene team to film this acrobatic descent, but for now, he could only play a mortal.

The equipment was reset, and the two actors—one casually lounging, the other calm and stern—stood in the pavilion. Even the colors of their costumes, one light and one dark, contrasted sharply.

A breeze skimmed the lake, creating gentle ripples.

“<Sword of Fallen Flowers> Scene 78, Take 1…”

Click!

Fang Xian nonchalantly sat next to his brother, full of discontent. “Everyone desires beauty. I, a young master, have an open heart. How could I stoop to such lowly acts as flirting? But some people, though they speak righteously…” He suddenly wrapped an arm around Tang Jingyu’s neck, laughing mischievously. “Might be thinking of all sorts of flirty things.”

Lu Yiyao momentarily broke character, but as he looked into “Fang Xian’s” eyes, Tang Jingyu’s soul was pulled back.

Ran Lin, in his role, seemed to possess a magic that made people naturally forget their real world and identity, as if their characters in the drama were the only true existence.

Tang Jingyu’s gaze settled, and he looked at Fang Xian with an almost smiling expression, silent, exuding a calm as if saying “let the strong be strong. I am as calm as the breeze on the hills.”

Fang Xian, finding no fun in this, let go with a “Tch”, clearly unimpressed.

Tang Jingyu, sprayed with a disdainful aura, smiled, but soon, as if realizing something, the smile remained on his face, yet retreated from the depths of his eyes.

Fang Xian, oblivious, continued, “What should I say when I see Miss Zhao later? Talking too much might seem frivolous, but if I speak too little… will it fail to show my charming and dashing nature…”

Tang Jingyu silently watched his brother lost in thought, his calm eyes flickering with an indescribable complexity. He ignored Fang Xian’s fanciful musings and asked out of the blue, “Will foster father come this time?”

Fang Xian, still discussing Zhao Buyao, was suddenly taken aback as the topic shifted to his father.

But since Tang Jingyu asked, he naturally responded, “He probably won’t. Father said he’s going into seclusion for a while.”

Tang Jingyu’s eyes lowered, understanding dawning.

Fang Xian sensed something odd and suddenly leaned forward, almost lying on the stone table, looking up at Tang Jingyu. “You’re acting a bit strange today.”

Tang Jingyu looked down at him, and a gust of wind blew, scattering the smile at the corner of his mouth. “Strange in what way?”

Fang Xian relaxed, standing up to pat his brother’s shoulder. “That’s better. Don’t always be so stern. Smile more. No girl likes a stone…”

Tang Jingyu, intrigued, asked, “They all like you?”

“Of course,” Fang Xian said proudly, lifting his chin up. “I have the looks of a hero, a face rivaling Pan An*…”

*Pan Yue, more popularly referred to as Pan An, was a well known poet who was famous for his good looks from a young age, thus “Pan An” has become a Chinese byword to refer to handsome men.

But as he spoke, Fang Xian faltered, looking hesitantly at Tang Jingyu. “Why aren’t you throwing hidden weapons at me?”

Tang Jingyu smiled softly, his voice unusually gentle. “I’ll let you speak your mind today.”

Fang Xian pouted, clearly unimpressed. “Boring.”

After saying so, he snatched Tang Jingyu’s tea and drank it in one gulp.

Tang Jingyu looked at his brother, who couldn’t even bother to pour his own tea, first with resignation and then slowly, his eyes filled with an apology that could no longer be hidden.

“Cut—”

“Pass!”

Ran Lin instantly relaxed, exhaling deeply. The charming and dashing young master was nowhere to be seen.

Lu Yiyao strangely realized that the moment the director called “Pass”, Fang Xian vanished without a trace, leaving only Ran Lin, unblemished and harmless.

The guy who had unabashedly grabbed his neck just moments ago seemed like an illusion, with only the lingering warmth on his neck as proof that Fang Xian had been there.

“Hey, that take is done. Stop staring at me like that.” Ran Lin waved his hand in front of Lu Yiyao’s eyes. “It’s kind of creepy…”

Lu Yiyao simply smiled.

He couldn’t say this to Ran Lin, as he was sure it would make him even more smug, but he mentally added a note in his mental notebook—

Ran Lin [Cunning Boy]

Note 1: Occasionally attentive.

Note 2: Occasionally naive.

Note 3: Good at self-reflection.

Note 4: Shines when acting.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch38

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 38

“That’s really inconsiderate. If I hadn’t seen the news, were you two planning to collaborate in secret like this!”

Xia Xinran’s voice, even through the headphones, sounded as if he was standing right in front of you, overwhelming and full of momentum.

Ran Lin glanced at Wang Xi subconsciously. The travel fatigue made her too lazy to care about who her artist was messaging. After politely thanking the drama crew’s driver who came to pick them up, she spent most of the journey resting with her eyes closed.

However, Liu Wanwan kept glancing over curiously, quickly retracting her gaze when noticed.

Ran Lin smiled slightly, about to type in the group chat, but Gu Jie beat her to it—[The two of them are legitimately filming, so why does it sound like they’re eloping when you mention it? 🙄]

Xia Xinran: “Why are you everywhere? I’m talking to Ran Lin!”

Gu Jie: [Then message privately. Posting in the group is obviously for everyone to see. 🤷]

Gu Jie: [By the way, why haven’t we seen Lu Yiyao?]

Zhang Beichen: [Then let me show up first. I’ll be stationed in Hengdian next week. 😏]

The Chen Sheng and Wu Guang group hadn’t been this lively in a long time. Now, except for Lu Yiyao, everyone was present.

Except for Xia Xinran, everyone was typing. Ran Lin replied with a light smile, explaining—[He should be on the plane, arriving a bit later than me.]

Immediately, Xia Xinran’s attention was diverted to the new topic, no longer entangling with Gu Jie. He asked directly: [Have you arrived at the hotel?]

Ran Lin smiled and typed: [Still on the way, almost there. Why have you also switched to typing?]

Xia Xinran: [Everyone’s so quiet, I can’t break the formation. 😮‍💨]

Gu Jie: [@Zhang Beichen Are you going to Hengdian too?]

Zhang Beichen: [A new drama, I’ll be there for three months.]

Gu Jie: [Wait, I just saw, is the third male lead in Fallen Flowers is Tang Xiaoyu?]

Ran Lin: [Yes.]

Gu Jie: [Alright, then I and someone must visit the set. We have to get the Drifting Group together at least once. 😎]

Xia Xinran: [Someone, who?]

Zhang Beichen: [Hahaha.]

Ran Lin: [😏]

The chat ended there, and Ran Lin felt that the fatigue of the journey was alleviated a lot by the joking among friends.

Although Xia Xinran was still his usual self, hardly interacting directly with Zhang Beichen, Zhang Beichen had apparently gotten used to it and mingled effortlessly with everyone else, bypassing Xia Xinran almost imperceptibly. Gu Jie and Lu Yiyao, the more straightforward ones, had never noticed this subtle friction.

Sometimes, being a bit oblivious isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Noticing the friction between two people and being unable to do anything about it only adds to one’s worries.

Hengdian, originally a small town in Zhejiang, started its unique path of discovery with the construction of a film and television city in the 1990s. Today, it is the largest film and television shooting base in Asia. With the rise of the film and television industry, tourism has also developed, now serving as a multifaceted economic zone combining film, leisure, and tourism.

The drama crew had arranged for the actors to stay in a star-rated hotel outside the film city, just a seven to eight-minute drive away. During the shooting period, there were daily shuttles to and from the set. The director and the rest of the crew stayed in a business hotel closer to the film city, which was comfortable but more cost-effective and convenient for shooting locations.

When they arrived at the hotel, it was already dark. The hotel was brightly lit, surrounded by bustling activity.

Many people were walking on the streets. It was easy to tell who were film industry professionals and who were tourists—the former wore tired expressions, while the latter looked excited and curious.

The car stopped at the hotel entrance, and the driver asked Wang Xi and Ran Lin to stay inside while he made a phone call.

Through the glass, Ran Lin saw some young girls in the hotel lobby, excitedly chatting and looking around while waiting to check in.

After a brief phone call, a middle-aged man in his forties hurried out. He moved quickly but had a welcoming smile.

Wang Xi immediately got out of the car to greet him. “Hello—”

“Hello,” the man shook hands with Wang Xi, introducing himself. “I’m the life producer for our group. My name is Feng, and everyone respectfully calls me Feng Ge.”

The life producer is responsible for the entire crew’s logistics, from hotel and flight arrangements to meals and snacks.

Wang Xi smiled warmly and politely. “I’m Ran Lin’s agent. We’ll be relying on Feng Ge for these next few months.”

“No, no, we all work hard together,” Feng Ge replied earnestly and swiftly pulled out two room cards. “This is Ran Lin’s room, and this is for you and the assistant. The contact list I sent you earlier has all the phone numbers. If you have any problems, feel free to contact me!”

“With Feng Ge arranging, everything will be perfect.” Wang Xi was more than willing to say a few extra kind words.

Feng Ge, pleased with the smooth interaction and relieved to not deal with difficult stars, offered an additional service. “Let me take you through the side entrance. There are a lot of fans waiting in the lobby.”

Wang Xi quickly understood. ‘Lu Yiyao’s fans?’

Brother Feng nodded. ‘Nowadays, star schedules are hardly secret. Some fans know the shooting schedule for every day. We can only try to avoid it as much as possible.’

With the agent handling external affairs, Ran Lin was happy to relax. After getting out of the car with Liu Wanwan, they followed Feng Ge through the side entrance into the hotel.

Feng Ge was chatty, revealing on the way to the elevator that the rooms for the actors were distributed on the top three floors. The male lead and future female lead had rooms on the top floor, other important actors on the floor below, and the floor below that housed the actors’ personal teams.

After this chat, they reached the elevator. Feng Ge didn’t enter, instead waving them off, saying he needed to welcome other actors.

Wang Xi exchanged more polite words before taking Ran Lin and Liu Wanwan into the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, Wang Xi’s smile faded, returning to her usual sharp and efficient demeanor. “Let’s put our luggage in our rooms, then go say hello to the director.”

……

Tomorrow was the start of shooting, and theoretically, the actors should arrive tonight to rest well.

However, knowing where the director was and not going to greet him, especially for a lesser-known actor like Ran Lin, would seem impolite.

Forty minutes later.

Ran Lin and Wang Xi arrived at the hotel where the director was staying. Wang Xi called the director.

It seemed the director wasn’t too welcoming of their uninvited visit, but when Wang Xi mentioned they were already in the hotel lobby, he softened and gave them his room number.

During the brief phone call, Ran Lin was asked for autographs by seven or eight girls, and one even requested a photo with him.

Finally, after much persuasion, they managed to enter the elevator.

Knock knock.

Wang Xi gently knocked on the door.

Having been forewarned, the door opened without a question from inside.

Wang Xi was surprised, and so was Ran Lin—the person who opened the door was Song Mang.

It was still early September, so Hengdian was at the tail end of summer. Song Mang was dressed in a white T-shirt and large floral shorts, giving off a Hawaiian vibe.

“Screenwriter Song, you’re here too.” Wang Xi quickly recovered and smiled.

Ran Lin, standing behind her, also politely greeted. “Mr. Song.”

“You were told to rest well by the director, yet you still had to come here,” Song Mang mentioned the director casually, not with the respect of a screenwriter for a director but more like friends.

Ran Lin followed Wang Xi into the room, and Director Chen stood up from the table and nodded at them.

The table was covered with scripts, and there was another chair, indicating they were discussing the plot.

It seemed Song Mang would be their on-set writer, which surprised Ran Lin.

It’s rare for a screenwriter to follow a production once the script is finished. Usually, directors bring their own familiar writers to adjust the script as needed during shooting.

It appeared that Chen Qizheng and Song Mang were indeed as close as an interview Ran Lin had read suggested, bonded over their love for martial arts and becoming close friends despite the age difference.

Director Chen gestured for Ran Lin to sit on another empty chair, while Song Mang pulled up another chair to sit beside him. Wang Xi tactfully retreated to a corner, not participating or interrupting.

“How do you feel about starting shooting tomorrow?” Director Chen asked casually.

Ran Lin answered honestly, “Quite looking forward to it—a bit excited and a bit nervous.”

Director Chen silently observed him for a while, then suddenly said, “If you can always maintain the state you were in when drinking that day, I’d really be reassured.”

Ran Lin was bewildered, unsure if the director was serious or mocking.

Song Mang passed a cigarette to Ran Lin, who quickly shook his head. “I don’t smoke.”

Song Mang offered the cigarette to Wang Xi instead, asking apologetically, “Miss, do you mind?”

Wang Xi initially wanted to accept the cigarette but realized they thought she’d mind, so she just smiled. “It’s okay.”

Ran Lin suppressed a laugh, knowing Wang Xi must be internally complaining—why didn’t you offer me one too!

“Actually,” Song Mang took a couple of puffs, finally finding his stride in the conversation, “Both Director Chen and I thought you didn’t quite resemble Fang Xian, but we both agreed you had potential that could be explored. Your explosive performance during the audition left a deep impression. Fang Xian is a character with significant conflict between his earlier and later phases, and we were both quite optimistic about you…”

Ran Lin involuntarily swallowed, sensing the word “were” was not a good sign.

Director Chen, usually reticent, now had Song Mang as his spokesperson, happy to let him do the talking.

Song Mang flicked the ash lightly, continuing, “But recently, I watched some of your past performances, and now my feelings and Director Chen’s are the same—you have too soft a gaze. It’s not effeminate, just too good-natured. This may be related to your personality, but this softness is very ‘un-Fang Xian’…”

“Fang Xian is arrogant and haughty, thinking he’s the best, loves whoever he wants.” Song Mang got excited, sitting up straight, focusing intently on Ran Lin. “You need to be more arrogant, understand? You need to have the vibe of a superstar!”

Ran Lin resisted the urge to wipe off the saliva sprayed on his face, nodding seriously. “I’ll try my best!”

Director Chen had become used to Song Mang’s sudden passion, but what Song Mang said was also what he wanted to convey. He couldn’t be sure if Ran Lin had found the essence of Fang Xian yet. It was a gamble—betting on their judgment and Ran Lin’s perceptiveness. Winning the bet would bring extraordinary results; losing would make future investment harder.

Since they had come just to greet and the director and screenwriter still had work to discuss, Ran Lin didn’t stay long and soon got up to leave.

As he was leaving, reminded by Wang Xi’s glance, Ran Lin realized he hadn’t yet thanked the two who had strongly recommended him for Fang Xian, so he quickly expressed his gratitude.

Song Mang said, “No need to be polite. It’s all for the sake of the show.”

Director Chen said, “Just focus all your thoughts on the character. That’s enough.”

With an impassioned screenwriter and a reticent director, Ran Lin suddenly felt this golden pairing was quite complementary.

Back at the hotel, Wang Xi and Liu Wanwan got off the elevator first and went straight to their rooms, leaving Ran Lin to go up one more floor. As he stepped out of the elevator, he recognized a familiar figure in the corridor and couldn’t help but call out, “Tang Xiaoyu?”

The person called turned around and, seeing Ran Lin, was also surprised. “You just arrived?”

“No.” Ran Lin didn’t want to elaborate. “I just went out for a walk.”

The two had only met once on a variety show, and after chatting briefly, they ran out of things to say, standing at opposite ends of the corridor, awkwardly staring at each other.

Especially for Ran Lin, who felt more conflicted.

Objectively, Tang Xiaoyu was a bit more popular than him, usually playing significant secondary roles, like the heavy male second lead in a drama with Lu Yiyao. Now he was the third male lead, ranked behind someone like Ran Lin. Ran Lin wasn’t sure if Tang Xiaoyu was as unconcerned as he appeared.

“It’ll get even colder if we just stand here staring at each other.” Tang Xiaoyu broke the silence with a teasing tone.

The awkward atmosphere disappeared, and the air started flowing again.

Ran Lin went with the flow. “Should we find some common topics, then?”

Unexpectedly, this seemed exactly what Tang Xiaoyu wanted, as he immediately came over, beaming. “You said it. Come into my room. We need to have a good chat.”

Ran Lin narrowed his eyes in feigned caution.

Tang Xiaoyu stood tall and proud. “Don’t worry. I’m a good guy.”

“That assurance makes you even more suspicious…” Ran Lin teased as he swiped his card to open the door.

Tang Xiaoyu turned out to be quite easygoing, a bit overly familiar, but still respectful of boundaries. As soon as they entered the room, he got straight to the point. “Actually, I want to talk to you about Xu Chongfei.”

Ran Lin thought he came to confront him, but seeing Tang Xiaoyu’s serious demeanor, it didn’t seem like that. Instead, it seemed like a sincere discussion.

Tang Xiaoyu acknowledged Ran Lin’s apprehension and said directly, “Don’t overthink it. I sincerely want to ask for your advice. I auditioned for Xu Chongfei too, but my agent told me I didn’t get the part, and it went to you. And…”

Ran Lin raised an eyebrow, wondering why Tang Xiaoyu suddenly stopped speaking.

Tang Xiaoyu hesitated, contemplating whether to be this candid. Eventually, he decided to be straightforward since they were in private. “And… from what I know, you didn’t use any underhanded methods, so the director and screenwriter choosing you must be based on your audition performance. Now that I have Xu Chongfei, I naturally have to consult a senior like you.”

Ran Lin was caught off guard by Tang Xiaoyu’s frankness, blinking in amusement. “If you keep calling me a senior, I’ll burn all my scripts.”

Tang Xiaoyu grimaced, immediately straightening up and patting Ran Lin on the shoulder. “Brother, give me some real tips.”

During their time on the reality show, Ran Lin hadn’t noticed Tang Xiaoyu being this funny, only thinking he was a nice guy. Now, in private, Tang Xiaoyu’s personality revealed many endearing qualities.

Ran Lin took out his phone, showing his WeChat QR code. “Scan me.”

Tang Xiaoyu understood this was to add him as a friend. Although he didn’t grasp the sudden shift in the conversation, he scanned the code.

Right after adding him, Ran Lin sent over a document.

Tang Xiaoyu, puzzled, opened it to see the first seven words at the top of the document—Xu Chongfei’s Character Biography.

The script included character biographies, which Tang Xiaoyu knew by heart, so he instantly noticed that Ran Lin’s version was different. The most apparent difference was that the script’s character biographies were written in third person, while Ran Lin’s was in first person, resembling Xu Chongfei’s monologue more than a biography.

Tang Xiaoyu briefly read a few lines, and it felt like he could envision the young man in moonlight white clothes sitting by the window under the moonlight, writing down this monologue amidst occasional crackling of the lamp.

“You wrote this?” Tang Xiaoyu guessed but couldn’t quite believe it.

Ran Lin said, “Xu Chongfei wrote it.”

Tang Xiaoyu considered himself a dedicated actor, known for making extensive notes in his scripts, including his interpretation of each line and planned expressions and gestures. However, he had never done this—engaging in dialogue with a character in the script using written words.

“No wonder you beat me.” Tang Xiaoyu saved the document, thoroughly convinced.

The word “beat” could be sensitive, but Tang Xiaoyu said it comfortably and naturally, making Ran Lin glad to have such a partner.

“Ah.” Tang Xiaoyu suddenly sighed with a sense of longing. “I have to be Lu Yiyao’s sidekick again. Last time in a drama, I was always revolving around him!”

Ran Lin laughed, reassuring his partner. “We’ll be sidekicks together.”

Tang Xiaoyu checked the time on his phone, muttering, “When is he arriving, anyway?”

Before he finished, Ran Lin’s phone buzzed with a short WeChat notification sound.

Tang Xiaoyu was puzzled, glancing at him.

Ran Lin casually opened it, revealing a new message.

Tang Xiaoyu, curious, couldn’t help but ask, “Who is it?”

The more Ran Lin tried to hide, the more suspicious it would seem. Since it wasn’t anything private, he showed his future partner the message: “Cao Cao1.”

[Lu Yiyao: I’m on the highway now.]

Talk about Cao Cao, and he shall appear1.

1Idiom referring to the other party appearing unexpectedly when they’re speaking about them (AKA Speak of the devil and he shall appear).

……

That night, the second and third male leads ended up not waiting for the lead actor—there was a car accident on the highway, causing a huge traffic jam.

Ran Lin, seeing the words “car accident”, lost his composure and immediately called.

Lu Yiyao picked up quickly but was confused about the sudden switch from WeChat to a phone call. “Hello?”

“Are you okay?” Ran Lin skipped the pleasantries, getting straight to the point.

Lu Yiyao was taken aback, finally understanding his friend’s concern, and quickly explained, “I’m fine. I got stuck in traffic a kilometer away.”

Ran Lin breathed a sigh of relief, his anxiety finally easing.

On the other end, Lu Yiyao felt a warm sensation but teased, “Is Fang Xian worried about Tang Jingyu, or is the diehard fan worried about Teacher Lu?”

Ran Lin rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “It’s the class monitor worried about the student who’s always late.”

Lu Yiyao protested, “I admit to being late, but I never leave early. You guys will be wrapping up, and I’ll still have to shoot the last few scenes.”

Ran Lin: “Okay, okay, we know you’re the lead.”

Lu Yiyao, satisfied, cooed, “Be good1.”

Ran Lin froze on the other end.

Lu Yiyao also paused in his car, realizing something was amiss1.

1Clarity: The word he’s using is () which means “be good/obedient”. It’s often used to address children, pets, or close relationships. In an adult conversation, it takes on a different connotation, often as a tender and endearing way to compliment or acknowledge someone’s cooperation, compliance, or agreeableness. In this context, the reason why they both react this way is that this is a term used for very close relationships (including couples), so when Lu Yiyao is telling him “be good”, it takes on a bit of a romantic teasing undertone.

As the traffic finally started moving, the driver accelerated too quickly, causing the vehicle to jolt.

Lu Yiyao was shaken back to reality and hurriedly said, “I should go. You need to rest. See you early tomorrow.”

“Okay, sure.” The voice on the other end quickly hung up, a bit too hastily.

The screen went dark, and Lu Yiyao realized Ran Lin hadn’t said goodnight.

At some point, their nightly conversations usually ended with a goodnight, and while it felt normal when said, its absence felt like the conversation was incomplete.

“Ran Lin?” Yao Hong could now tell just by his expressions who Lu Yiyao was talking to—not just on the phone but also on WeChat. Normally, he was natural with acquaintances, but when it came to friends like Huo Yuntao and Ran Lin, he was all smiles, eager to share his joy.

“Yeah.” Lu Yiyao never hid anything from Yao Hong, and his relationship with Ran Lin was almost like an open secret with the latter’s manager.

Yao Hong nodded, recalling what she had just heard, and suddenly asked, “What’s this ‘be good’ about?”

Lu Yiyao looked blankly at his manager. “What ‘be good’?”

Yao Hong frowned. “Didn’t you just say, ‘be good’ to him?”

Lu Yiyao looked innocently at her. “Did I?”

Her artist was too justified in his actions, causing Yao Hong to become unsure. “Didn’t you say it?”

Lu Yiyao swiftly turned towards Li Tong, attempting to find an ally.

Li Tong, who was originally enjoying the show, instantly turned his head towards the window and seamlessly transitioned into singing, “My voice is laughing~~ Tears are flying~~ Do you know who’s on the other end of the phone~~~”

Lu Yiyao helplessly turned back, innocently looking at the agent again. “I really didn’t say it.”

Yao Hong gave up, considering it a trivial matter. “If you didn’t say it, then you didn’t. There’s no need to keep emphasizing it. Stop clinging to your phone. We have to get up early tomorrow. Sleep as much as you can now.”

“Okay.” Lu Yiyao breathed a sigh of relief, put his phone back in his pocket, and closed his eyes to rest.

He hadn’t said anything. The strange atmosphere of the conversation just now must have been an illusion caused by the traffic jam.

……

After taking a bath, Ran Lin went to bed, his face still hot enough to fry an egg.

The gentle Lu Yiyao was too much to handle. A single word from him could keep Ran Lin immersed for a year.

For the first time, Ran Lin realized how weak he was.

But within what seemed like rational self-reflection, a hint of doubt quietly resurfaced—is Lu Yiyao really straight?

Assuming and then overturning, overturning and then assuming again, Ran Lin tossed and turned until after 2 a.m. before finally falling into a drowsy sleep.

He woke up at 6 a.m. to the alarm.

This would be the latest he could get up in the coming months, as today was the start of filming. The morning was mainly for the opening ceremony and makeup tests, with actual shooting beginning in the afternoon. Once they started full-day filming, he would have to get up at 5 a.m.

After a quick wash, Wang Xi came to knock on the door, accompanied by Liu Wanwan.

The trio met and took the elevator down to the hotel lobby. The lobby was almost empty in the early morning, except for Feng Ge talking on the phone near the entrance, sounding very anxious.

Seeing them come down, Feng Ge immediately hung up and came over with an apologetic face. “Sorry, sorry, please wait a moment. The car will be here soon.”

Making the artists wait for a car on the first day of filming was clearly troubling Feng Ge. He was relieved that the lead actress hadn’t joined yet, as she was notoriously difficult to please. If she had encountered today’s situation, he probably wouldn’t be able to stay in the crew.

Wang Xi’s eyes flashed with displeasure, but she spoke kindly. “It’s okay, we’ll wait on the sofa over there.”

Ran Lin was fine with waiting. He had experienced it before while rushing to events, and it was only because he was playing the second male lead this time that he was getting such attention.

Just as they sat on the sofa, Tang Xiaoyu came down, followed by three people, an agent and two assistants.

Feng Ge, who was about to make a call at the entrance, welcomed them again, his expression almost despondent.

Tang Xiaoyu’s agent was also unhappy, but seeing Ran Lin there, Tang Xiaoyu immediately came over, and the agent didn’t complain much to Feng Ge, following his artist instead.

“I didn’t sleep much last night. I was reading the character biography. It was amazing. It made me cry, really.” Tang Xiaoyu couldn’t wait to share his feelings, even before reaching the sofa.

Wang Xi didn’t expect Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu to know each other and was pleasantly surprised, especially seeing the latter’s enthusiasm. She moved to the adjacent sofa to let the two artists interact closely.

Building a good relationship with fellow artists was beneficial for Ran Lin.

Tang Xiaoyu thanked Wang Xi and sat down next to Ran Lin, sharing his insights from pondering all night.

“I think you’re right about Xu Chongfei…”

Those who love acting actually have a sense of communion, so Ran Lin could completely feel Tang Xiaoyu’s excitement and was willing to interact with him. But at that moment, he couldn’t concentrate; no matter how hard he tried, his gaze kept drifting away—

Lu Yiyao had arrived.

Since the reality show, Ran Lin hadn’t seen Lu Yiyao. Even though chatting had become a daily routine, neither of them had mentioned, for example, meeting up?

Months had passed, and Lu Yiyao hadn’t changed much since the reality show. But today, he was obviously well-groomed: black trousers, a white shirt, simple and neat in color, fitting perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and long legs, and his bangs were all swept back, exposing his forehead, which reduced his sunny youthfulness but accentuated his handsome features. As he stepped out of the elevator without a smile, he exuded a forbidding and austere temperament, appearing even more imposing.

Ran Lin watched him stand behind Yao Hong, quietly listening to Feng Ge explain why even the lead actor’s car hadn’t arrived. He watched him look this way, watched him… see him.

Almost at the moment of eye contact, Lu Yiyao’s slightly furrowed brows instantly relaxed, and he walked over with long strides—

“Long time no see.”

The usually aloof Lu Yiyao smiled like that, his gaze locked on his friend, forgetting all about being forbidding and austere, and even with his domineering CEO hairstyle, he was still a model young man.

Ran Lin stood up, watching Lu Yiyao approach, his nervousness suddenly vanishing. “Teacher Lu, if you weren’t so eloquent, I would feel even better.”

Tang Xiaoyu also stood up and took a few steps forward, extending a hand of friendship to an old friend. “Long time no see. We’re working together again.”

Lu Yiyao responded with a tease. “Hopefully the audience won’t get confused.”

Tang Xiaoyu subtly raised an eyebrow, remembering Lu Yiyao as not being so familiar and joking. Even in the reality show where he was more relaxed than when acting with Tang Xiaoyu, he was different from now.

While he was surprised, he didn’t express it too much.

After releasing the handshake, Tang Xiaoyu turned to return to his seat, only to find that the lead actor had already crossed him and sat in his original spot—next to Ran Lin.

The naturalness of his expression forced Tang Xiaoyu to wonder if the sofa cushion had a sign saying “Lu Yiyao’s seat.”

Ran Lin was also a bit embarrassed. Lu Yiyao moved too fast, like a shadow, and before he could speak, Lu Yiyao had already sat down, showing no awareness of taking someone else’s seat.

Helpless, Ran Lin gave Tang Xiaoyu an apologetic look.

Tang Xiaoyu shook his head indifferently and sat opposite the two.

For others, he might have thought more, but for Lu Yiyao, he believed it was just the latter’s carelessness.

Yao Hong wasn’t surprised by this; she would have been more surprised if Lu Yiyao hadn’t stuck close to Ran Lin.

She glanced at Wang Xi sitting on the adjacent sofa, who was smiling innocently but clearly pleased—having a popular star as a friend opens many doors in the industry and attracts fans outside it.

Yao Hong sighed and sat down opposite Wang Xi.

Li Tong, following Yao Hong, also made his way there but felt the atmosphere around the two agent sisters was a bit tense. He glanced around and saw a girl sitting behind Tang Xiaoyu, immediately cheerfully taking a seat opposite her.

“Hello, I am Lu Ge’s assistant, Li Tong.” Assistant Li noticed the girl’s bewildered face and quickly offered a friendly gesture.

Liu Wanwan, startled by the sudden company, cautiously reciprocated after a moment. “Hello, I am Ran Ge’s assistant, Liu Wanwan.”

Liu Wanwan’s hand was a bit cold, which took Li Tong by surprise, and he blurted out without thinking, “You’re very fair-skinned.”

Liu Wanwan, annoyed, withdrew her hand, looked out the window, and ignored Li Tong, who she thought was crazy.

Li Tong realized his mistake but couldn’t entirely blame himself; Liu Wanwan’s skin was indeed very fair, not the artificial kind, but naturally beautiful and slightly fragile, dazzling in the sunlight. She looked more like a fresh graduate, new to the industry, rather than a seasoned colleague.

Tang Xiaoyu, overhearing this, chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of assistant Lu Yiyao had hired who started flirting right away.

But before he could finish his amusement, he heard Lu Yiyao speak from across—

“You seem to have gotten fairer?”

Tang Xiaoyu looked up in disbelief, retracting his previous doubts—like master, like man*.

*If you’re not from the same family, they do not enter the same door. (不是一家人,不进一家门) It’s a proverb that refers to people of similar personalities or habits tend to be found in the same group or environment.

Ran Lin, the subject of the question, was completely baffled.

Lu Yiyao thought he hadn’t understood and quickly added, “I remember after the reality show, you were quite tanned, not exactly like mangosteen skin, but somewhat like an oxidized apple…”

Ran Lin calmed down, his heartbeat returning to a regular pace—no, even stronger than before, pounding with enough force to strike Lu Yiyao.

“Thanks. I haven’t been out much these past few months, just to get a bit fairer.”

Lu Yiyao keenly sensed that Ran Lin wasn’t very happy.

He also strangely found himself enjoying the sight of his agitated partner.

Feeling guilty but pleased, he unexpectedly complimented, “The effort shows.”

Ran Lin was now certain that this person was no longer the upright and kind young man from the reality show.

In a few months, Teacher Lu had changed, treating him without any formalities, completely like a close friend. So now, he really wanted to… whip him with a small leather whip!

Lu Yiyao, seeing the narrowing eyes of Ran Lin, received a warning signal.

Before, such signals only came from Huo Yuntao’s eyes. Now, seeing it in someone else was both fresh and interesting to Lu Yiyao.

At the same time, he realized his changed attitude towards Ran Lin. This change had already begun in their WeChat chats, but it became crystal clear face-to-face—he couldn’t maintain the polite, distant demeanor with Ran Lin. That was the Lu Yiyao of the entertainment industry, but not the real Lu Yiyao. The real Lu Yiyao, although still not fond of imperatives, liked to occasionally bring his friends a bowl of midnight love-filled rice noodles. Previously, only Huo Yuntao knew this side of him, and now, Ran Lin did too.

Lu Yiyao enjoyed being his true self, no, he loved himself, and thus was thoroughly enjoying the current situation, almost beaming as he extended his hand. “Pleasure working together.”

Ran Lin reciprocated the handshake firmly, deciding to start correcting his skewed views on romance from now on. “Please, teach, me, more.”

Tang Xiaoyu really regretted overhearing such an “intimate” exchange.

What to do. He hadn’t even started playing Xu Chongfei, and he already felt the pressure, as if foreseeing a Shura field*!

*(罗场) A term originating from the Buddhist term referring to the realm of “Asura”, it refers to a situation that’s extremely chaotic, turbulent, or full of conflict, like a battlefield. Nowadays, it’s an internet buzzword more commonly used to describe romantic or workplace relationships.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch37

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 37

At one in the morning, Chang’an Street in Beijing seemed unusually empty. Cars sped along at the maximum allowed speed limit, and the passing streetlights left a continuous halo of light on the car windows.

Inside the car, Liu Wanwan was half-asleep. Ran Lin’s eyelids were heavy, but his mind was alert, tiredly gazing out the window, lost in thought.

Wang Xi, who had been holding back all evening, finally got her chance after the gathering ended. She couldn’t hold back any longer and tapped Ran Lin’s head lightly. “What else are you hiding from me, kid?”

Startled by the sudden tap, Ran Lin looked dazed for a moment before realizing what Wang Xi was referring to. He chuckled, looking both honest and innocent. “Being good at drinking isn’t something to be proud of. I can’t just jump out and tell you, ‘Xi Jie, I’m like a barrel of liquor.'”

Wang Xi rolled her eyes at him with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Whether it’s something to be proud of is not for you to worry about. Just report honestly. Who knows which cloud might bring rain. It might come in handy.”

Ran Lin raised his hand. “I can blow several layers of bubbles with chewing gum.”

Wang Xi, unamused by such a trivial skill, said, “Except for such obscure talents.”

Ran Lin couldn’t help but laugh heartily, and as his laughter faded, he stretched his arm over the front seat, resting his head lightly.

His spirit wasn’t tired, but his body was exhausted, as if every cell was screaming with fatigue and calling for a strike. “Xi Jie, I’m going to take a nap.”

Wang Xi seemed to want to say something more but hesitated, eventually giving up and saying softly, “Alright, I’ll wake you up when we get home.”

Ran Lin had a blurry memory of how he got home that day. He woke up the next afternoon, feeling refreshed and without a hangover.

As soon as he woke up, he eagerly called Wang Xi to inquire about the previous day’s outcomes. He could tell Lei Baishi enjoyed the drinking.

The last thing he remembered was Lei being helped away by his assistant, the “Internationale” echoing in the corridor, not knowing what battles Comrade Lei was fighting in his alcohol-induced illusion.

But no matter how happy the drinking was, business talks were another matter once sober. Lei Baishi’s entertainment company didn’t grow to its size by just drinking.

“We’ve done what we can. Let’s leave it to fate,” was Wang Xi’s response. Ran Lin was somewhat surprised; Wang Xi also had moments of uncertainty.

Actually, choosing him for the male lead role had its pros and cons. Choosing him, with his lower popularity, could risk the show’s ratings, but he was affordable, saving a significant amount in actor fees compared to other high-profile actors, which could be used to enhance production quality. Not choosing him and opting for a more popular actor meant less flexibility, as few popular actors would have their schedules open for the next few months, and from those, ones suitable for the role would be rare, and thus their agents would ask for high fees.

This was why the investor, director, and scriptwriter were at an impasse—no side had a clear advantage or certainty of success.

Originally, the director and scriptwriter were supportive of him, but the words Director Chen said that night made Ran Lin somewhat nervous. He didn’t dare share this conversation with Wang Xi, fearing her reprimand.

……

Days passed, and Ran Lin stopped asking Wang Xi about the role. He stayed home, reading the script daily. Previously focused on the third male lead, he was now considering both the second and third leads. Since Lu Yiyao hinted that the director might let him replace Fang Xian, the two hadn’t been in touch.

On June 1st, the contract arrived. Wang Xi called him, excitedly revealing the answer as soon as he picked up. “Fang Xian, it’s yours!”

Ran Lin could sense his agent’s excitement, and he was happy too. Apart from anything else, this was recognition from the investor, director, and scriptwriter. But with the happiness came pressure.

“Why are you silent? Too happy to speak?” Wang Xi, unable to see her artist’s expression over the phone, guessed his feelings.

“Yeah, I’m secretly delighted,” Ran Lin playfully replied.

Wang Xi advised, “Prepare well. I won’t arrange any activities for you in the next three months. Stay home, study the script, and occasionally consult the director and scriptwriter. You have their contact information, right? Keeping in touch is always a good idea.”

Ran Lin knew Wang Xi had his best interests at heart and simply agreed. “Okay.”

Wang Xi felt Ran Lin’s reaction lacked the excitement she expected and decided to say more. “Variety shows can attract fans, but the popularity they bring is fleeting. Without solid works, you can’t raise your value. You’re like a small fish in the sea, and a dragon is passing by you. You only rise to the skies if you grab onto its tail.”

Ran Lin understood. <Sword of Fallen Flowers> was that dragon. “Many spend their lives in the entertainment industry without ever making a splash,” Wang Xi continued, her voice slowing down, each word impactful. “Ran Lin, seize this opportunity. Once you rise, you’ll be the dragon.”

After hanging up, Ran Lin fell into deep thought. He pondered over the role of Fang Xian, Director Chen’s words, and Wang Xi’s advice. In the end, he decided to share his joy with his friends first.

……

Lu Yiyao’s studio was located in the Chaoyang District of Beijing, not in the high-end office building cluster of the CBD, but in a quiet residential area. It was conveniently located with a full range of living facilities nearby, making it easy for the staff to commute.

Although the studio was under the Pentium Times Media Group, it was Lu Yiyao’s own, and everything was done according to his ideas from the beginning. The most noticeable was the studio’s location and decoration.

Many stars don’t have specific requirements for their studio’s office location; as long as it provides a comfortable working environment for the staff and ensures smooth and efficient work, office buildings are usually the first choice. But Lu Yiyao was different, choosing a standalone loft instead. From the outside, with its mottled walls and over two-meter-high iron gate, it looked like a warehouse, but stepping inside revealed a different world.

The spacious two-story space had an unobstructed spiral staircase leading upstairs. The first floor had no partitions or walls, using plants, sofas, and a coffee table to visually create areas. The second floor was the office area, with several offices all featuring bright floor-to-ceiling windows. There was even a sunroom in the corner of the second floor, filled with thriving plants and flowers, where sunlight streamed in, brightening the first floor’s hall.

The walls, at first glance seemingly plain gray, revealed deliberate natural gray textures upon closer inspection, simple yet artistic.

Lu Yiyao personally inspected the place. The owner told him that the previous tenant was a creative planning company that had grown significantly in recent years. The company felt that the loft was becoming too small for their expanding scale, which is why they reluctantly moved out.

Lu Yiyao nodded understandingly. “I get it. This place has good Feng Shui, accessible from all directions.” The owner liked such agreeable tenants, especially when they were famous stars, and immediately offered some generous terms. Lu Yiyao was quite satisfied with the place, finding it stylish and tasteful, so he didn’t haggle much and smoothly signed the lease.

It turned out that Lu Yiyao had a good eye for this. Regardless of how the staff complained about the workload, they unanimously praised the work environment.

Lu Yiyao also liked spending time here. Apart from the comfortable environment, he wanted to let his staff feel his presence, showing solidarity with them. In essence, he was like a mascot, also serving to boost morale. Unfortunately, due to his busy schedule, he couldn’t visit often, but recently he managed to come by more frequently.

As the studio’s boss, Lu Yiyao didn’t have an office here. According to Yao Hong, space was limited, and since he was more like a “ghost boss”, it wasn’t necessary to waste resources.

So whenever Lu Yiyao came, he stayed in Yao Hong’s office. At this moment, in the afternoon, the sunlight and breeze coming through the window were just right, creating a rare moment of comfort and relaxation.

Unfortunately, a phone call Yao Hong received two minutes ago subtly changed Lu Yiyao’s mood.

“Fang Xian is confirmed for Ran Lin?”

“Yes.” Yao Hong put her phone back on the desk. “The production company has already sent him the contract.”

Lu Yiyao’s first reaction was to be happy for Ran Lin, feeling genuinely surprised as if he had received the role himself. “Not bad. His team is really capable. That Mr. Lei isn’t someone who changes his mind easily.”

Yao Hong remained silent, just staring blankly at Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao, puzzled, looked back at his agent.

After a long silence, Lu Yiyao couldn’t hold back and said, “Hong Jie, that intimidating look doesn’t suit your temperament.”

Yao Hong laughed. “Which eye of yours saw me intimidating you?”

“Both eyes.” Lu Yiyao paused, then sighed, adding, “And my ears heard it too.”

Yao Hong got curious. “Heard what?”

Lu Yiyao spread his hands, mimicking Yao Hong’s tone, a mix of threat and earnestness. “If you pass messages to Ran Lin again, don’t blame me for being unpleasant.”

Yao Hong was stunned, then laughed. Lu Yiyao, not waiting for her to finish laughing, said, “Don’t worry. This time, I definitely won’t call him first.”

Yao Hong already knew about the previous misunderstandings where Lu Yiyao ended up playing the messenger. She thought he would be eager to deliver the third piece of good news, but to her surprise, he said he wouldn’t call first. She looked at him, somewhat puzzled and skeptical.

Lu Yiyao helplessly smiled. “Such news should ideally come from his agent. If it always comes from me, his agent might overthink it.”

Yao Hong felt reassured at first, but then her feelings became complicated. “You really care about him.”

Lu Yiyao, caught off guard, leaned back in his chair, adopting a relaxed posture. “Anyway, I always reach out to him; this time I’ll wait for him to tell me.”

Yao Hong didn’t want to burst her artist’s bubble of confidence but feared his greater expectations might lead to greater disappointment. After pondering, she sighed softly. “Silly boy, you may consider someone a friend, but they might not…”

The phone rang at that moment.

Lu Yiyao, seeing the caller ID, widened his eyes in disbelief and immediately showed it to his agent with a triumphant smile.

Yao Hong, seeing the name “Dedicated Fan Ran Lin” on the screen, felt a headache coming on.

“Hello, yeah, I’m free. Go ahead.” Lu Yiyao, holding the phone, got up and smiled at Yao Hong, then cheerfully left the office to find a quiet place.

Yao Hong was dumbfounded. It was just a phone call, not like winning a house or land, but he was so pleased with himself! She sipped her tea and leaned back into the chair, relaxing in the warm sunlight.

Yao Hong had no personal likes or dislikes towards Ran Lin. Her only concern was Lu Yiyao’s future, hoping to shield him from anything that might harm or hinder his career. If Lu Yiyao truly just wanted to be friends with Ran Lin, she wasn’t about to interfere unnecessarily.

Unless Ran Lin genuinely harmed Lu Yiyao.

But as of now, aside from the initial publicity stunt, there hadn’t been any further manipulations from Wang Xi’s side since the reality show filming started.

Moreover, Ran Lin playing Fang Xian was an opportunity. If done well, he might really become famous overnight. Then, with similar popularity levels, a friendship between them could benefit their public image.

Yao Hong shook her head and picked up the event information she had been reading—there were still many things to worry about. As for the private affairs of artists, she would take it as it came.

……

“So you’re no longer conflicted about preferring Xu Chongfei?” teased the friend on the phone.

Ran Lin replied irritably, “No more conflicts. Even if the second male lead is a big, burly guy, I’m determined to play him.”

The laughter from the phone lingered before turning serious, yet still amused. “Then we’ll have a lot of scenes together.”

Ran Lin felt a strange sensation in his heart. Even though he knew Lu Yiyao meant nothing more, he couldn’t help feeling sweet and secretly said, “Yeah, loving and killing each other…”

Lu Yiyao quickly interrupted, correcting seriously, “Forget the old script. In the future, it’s just killing, no loving. After all, your dad is my family’s sworn enemy, and you still compete with me for the same girl.”

The word “loving” coming from Lu Yiyao’s mouth made Ran Lin’s heart skip a beat. Luckily, Lu Yiyao’s straightforward tone and firmness, once the sentence was finished, nipped any budding romantic notions.

Ran Lin sighed, setting aside his wandering thoughts, and defended his character. “I’m not competing for the same girl with you. It’s me who tearfully steps aside to let you two be together!”

Lu Yiyao: “Don’t bother; Zhao Buyao has always liked Tang Jingyu. Even if you didn’t step aside, you had no chance.”

Ran Lin: “What about later, when you used me?”

Lu Yiyao: “That was for avenging my family’s annihilation. It’s only right and proper for the son to pay the father’s debt!”

Ran Lin: “That’s heartless of you. When we were kids, who played with you in the Fang Clan, if not me?”

Lu Yiyao: “Am I heartless, or are you? Your elder brothers used to bully you for being younger. If it weren’t for me protecting you, you would have been bullied to death.”

Ran Lin: “You protecting me? It was more like you made them angrier, and then they bullied both of us even worse. Plus, you didn’t have any martial arts skills, so I felt bad about running away and leaving you behind!”

Lu Yiyao: “Having low combat skills is one thing, but it’s the heart that matters. Don’t you understand?”

Ran Lin: “So you mean to say you had me in your heart?”

Lu Yiyao: “Of course. Otherwise, why would I feel so pained about using you later on?”

Ran Lin: “…”

Lu Yiyao: “Hello?”

Ran Lin: “Yeah, I’m here.”

Lu Yiyao: “Why did you suddenly stop talking?”

Ran Lin: “…”

Ran Lin placed his phone, which was on speaker, on the bedside table and then threw himself onto the bed, hugging the blanket and rolling around in silence and intensity!

How could he speak? Right now, he couldn’t say anything but giggle like a fool!

Ran Lin, you sly fox! You took advantage of the conversation to flatter him, satisfying your inner desires! Ah, what to do? Why didn’t I record the call?

He really wanted to hear Lu Yiyao say he had him in his heart again…

The mainland star, feeling played on his end, waited patiently on the phone. After a long while, getting anxious, he tried to change the subject. “By the way, how did you manage to get the role?”

Unintentionally spoken, the question had a different meaning for the listener. Ran Lin’s spirit immediately returned, and his heart, which had been fluttering, started to sink slightly.

Although Wang Xi had greatly praised his performance at the dinner party, Ran Lin always felt that it wasn’t something to boast about, especially to Lu Yiyao…

“Hello?” Lu Yiyao suspected the call had been disconnected since there was no response to his new topic.

“I’m here,” Ran Lin hurriedly replied. But after responding, he was at a loss for words again. He didn’t want to lie to Lu Yiyao, but he also didn’t want to tell the truth. It was as if two people were fighting in his head, and he couldn’t come to a conclusion.

Lu Yiyao, somewhat amused and frustrated, said, “Just saying ‘I’m here’ without anything else, how are we supposed to talk?”

“I’m seriously considering your question,” Ran Lin replied casually.

But Lu Yiyao had a thought and suddenly realized that his question might not be as innocuous as he thought, potentially involving trade secrets. He quickly said, “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

This response made Ran Lin anxious, thinking Lu Yiyao was upset because he was hiding something. In a moment of panic, he blurted out, “A dinner party!”

Ran Lin’s response was so abrupt that Lu Yiyao didn’t catch it. “Huh?”

“Xi Jie arranged a dinner party,” Ran Lin explained everything honestly, “and invited Mr. Lei to discuss things face to face.”

Lu Yiyao chuckled. “You mean to drink face to face.”

Ran Lin, surprised by the understanding and playful tone on the phone without any disdain or disgust, uncertainly said, “By the sound of it, you’ve also…”

“Drank,” Lu Yiyao replied succinctly.

Ran Lin could almost hear the blood, sweat, and tears in those two words.

Lu Yiyao sighed almost inaudibly, saying softly, “My first leading role was also finalized at a dinner party. That Mr. Lei is really a heavy drinker… Uh, you’re not recording this call or using speakerphone, right?”

Ran Lin: “…No, not at all!”

Lu Yiyao frowned, feeling that the denial seemed… somewhat hesitant?

Ran Lin, who had sneakily switched back to the handset, decided to take the initiative. “I thought a top star like you wouldn’t need to resort to drinking for networking.”

Lu Yiyao was immediately drawn into the new topic. “It’s the era of capital now. It doesn’t matter who you are, in front of capital, everyone is equal.”

“It sounds a bit sad.”

“No, every industry has its challenges. Compared horizontally, ours is already a high-return industry,” Lu Yiyao said earnestly. “So many people drink until they bleed from their stomachs and still can’t earn what we make. That’s why I dislike it when artists constantly complain and play the victim. It’s really not necessary.”

Ran Lin was just teasing, not expecting Lu Yiyao to take it so seriously. And from his words, there was no trace of arrogance, only respect for other professions, acknowledgement of his own, and a clear understanding of his work.

The more he knew, the more he liked him. Ran Lin felt he was beyond help.

Finally, Lu Yiyao said, “Looking forward to working with you.”

Ran Lin replied, “See you in September.”

After hanging up and returning to the phone’s home screen, Ran Lin realized it was June 1st. Unable to resist, he impulsively sent Lu Yiyao two WeChat messages.

The first was a gif of Tigger, and the second was a text message: [Happy Children’s Day, little Tigger.]

A few minutes later, he received a reply, two messages. One was a picture of Winnie the Pooh holding a honey pot, and the other was a text: [Here’s some honey for you, classmate Pooh.]

What was supposed to quell his restlessness now made his heart flutter even more. Ran Lin stared at his phone screen, feeling despondent. In terms of flirting and counter-flirting, Lu Yiyao wasn’t just a professional; he was the master.

……

The same night he talked with Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin, after much thought, sent a WeChat message to Zhang Beichen: [I managed to get the role of Fang Xian.]

The way he phrased it was delicate.

If he sounded too soft, it would seem like he was being smug about getting a bargain. If he sounded too firm, it would come off as boasting. But not telling Zhang Beichen and letting him find out through his agent or other official channels didn’t feel right to Ran Lin.

He felt it wasn’t friendly or open enough. If he were in Zhang Beichen’s shoes, he would prefer to hear it from a friend.

So Ran Lin didn’t elaborate or use fancy words. Fang Xian was a role he had fought for, and that was the truth, so he simply stated it as such.

The reply came quickly, with a celebratory emoji and a: [Congratulations!]

Ran Lin smiled knowingly, feeling relieved.

Then another message followed: [My show also starts filming in September, in Hengdian 😏.]

[😮Really?]

[Court drama, but different locations from yours. I’ll visit your set when we start filming 😆.]

[Warmly welcome!]

[😎]

Ran Lin, looking at the small laughing emoji with sunglasses, finally felt his heart settle down, warming up slowly.

On the other end of the WeChat conversation, Zhang Beichen, who had just finished a gig and was heading to the next location in a nanny car, handed his locked phone to his assistant, expressionless, and lit a cigarette.

His agent, Wu Xuefeng, sensing something amiss, asked directly, “Whose WeChat message was that?”

Zhang Beichen replied indifferently, “A friend.”

Since his debut, it had always been Wu Xuefeng guiding Zhang Beichen. The two weren’t particularly close or fond of each other, but they understood each other well.

Wu Xuefeng, seeing his expression, knew there was an issue and decided to get to the bottom of it. “What friend?”

Zhang Beichen, seemingly recalling something, smiled. “A pretty cute friend.”

Wu Xuefeng immediately became wary. “I’ve told you. Your future is bright. Don’t mess it up…”

“Don’t worry.” Zhang Beichen gave his manager a reassured look. “I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s good.” Wu Xuefeng had no other choice when the artist refused to say more. Fortunately, Zhang Beichen was indeed sensible in this regard, and they were in sync on this matter.

“Wu Ge.” Zhang Beichen suddenly looked at his manager.

Wu Xuefeng braced himself. Although everyone called him Wu Ge, Zhang Beichen wasn’t usually so respectful behind closed doors. Their relationship was more of an equal partnership, so whenever Zhang Beichen showed respect, it meant there was an issue.

“Go ahead.” Wu Xuefeng prepared himself. “I can handle it.”

“It’s not like I’m going to machine-gun you,” Zhang Beichen joked, then turned serious, speaking softly. “I’ve reconsidered that matter you mentioned before.”

Wu Xuefeng didn’t immediately catch on. “Which matter?”

Zhang Beichen raised an eyebrow lightly. “What do you think?”

Wu Xuefeng was taken aback, and then his eyes widened behind his glasses in surprise. “You agreed?!”

Zhang Beichen looked unimpressed. “Don’t act like you weren’t actively involved.”

Wu Xuefeng was indeed happy to hear this but said, “Weren’t you opposed to it before?”

Zhang Beichen took a deep drag of his cigarette, then looked up, blowing smoke rings leisurely. After a long while, when the smoke dispersed, he turned back to Wu Xuefeng and smiled. “You were right. Only by climbing high enough can you avoid being stepped on.”

Wu Xuefeng smiled wryly. “It’s still because of Yu Dong, isn’t it?”

“No.” Zhang Beichen shook his head, looking out the window pensively. “It’s about everyone who stands in my way.”

……

During the three months of June, July, and August, Ran Lin had very few schedules and spent most of his time in closed training. He studied the script, memorized lines, and pondered over the character almost obsessively.

The whole summer was calm. The only ripple was the behind-the-scenes footage of the Miya shampoo advertisement that leaked online, unedited and in its original sound. As a result, Ran Lin once again trended on social media for his self-played and self-sung song.

Wang Xi, worried about Ran Lin’s lack of exposure during these months, was delighted and took the opportunity for another round of promotion. Throughout July, Ran Lin maintained his presence thanks to his singing talent, and by August, when the news of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> started flooding in, the buzz was immense.

Lu Yiyao’s fans had mixed feelings. On one hand, they saw that their idol was friends with Ran Lin and refrained from saying too much, but on the other hand, they weren’t content. Many who hadn’t seen <National First Love Drifting Story> asked who Ran Lin was and how he got such good resources. People in the industry, having the most complete information, predicted that Ran Lin was about to become famous.

Ran Lin was oblivious to all this.

Lu Yiyao also didn’t pay much attention.

Both were focused on improving their acting skills during the summer. Ran Lin was studying scripts, practicing in front of mirrors, self-training, and self-correcting. Lu Yiyao watched others’ performances to learn and observe.

Lu Yiyao started spending more time at the studio, so Yao Hong let him use her office, and Li Tong officially became his secretary, working regular hours.

“Lu Ge, latte.” Li Tong brought the prepared coffee to the second-floor office, where his boss was deeply engrossed in a notebook.

“Thanks.” Lu Yiyao didn’t even look up.

Li Tong carefully placed the coffee down, sneaking a peek at the laptop screen, which was playing a historical drama he hadn’t seen before. Although unfamiliar with the drama, the actor on the screen seemed familiar…

“Li Tong.” The boss, who had been looking down, suddenly looked up and spoke.

Li Tong, startled, thinking he was caught snooping, became nervous, only to hear his boss ask, “Do you know what actors rely on when acting?”

Li Tong was used to being asked a million-dollar question, but this was way out of his field.

Lu Yiyao didn’t expect an answer and said, “I’ll tell you. Some rely on willpower, some on charisma, some on experience, some on looks.”

Li Tong nodded, trying to understand. “So?”

Lu Yiyao turned the laptop towards him, pointing at the actor on the screen. “What do you think he relies on?”

Li Tong leaned closer to the laptop, watching intently, trying to figure it out. Before he could come to a conclusion, the scene changed, and the actor Lu Yiyao had pointed out disappeared, replaced by another actor in a dialogue scene—

“Today is your end, Linghu Xiaodao!”

The dialogue was too violent for Li Tong’s taste, but he dared not show disapproval, weakly looking towards his boss. “Uh, the scene changed…”

The boss, still lost in thought, said, “I think it’s 30% charisma, 30% willpower, and 40% looks. What do you think?”

Li Tong swallowed nervously, facing his boss’s earnest gaze. After struggling for a while, he finally spoke his mind: “Lu Ge, as long as you’re happy…”

……On September 6th, in Hengdian Film and Television Studio, <Sword of Fallen Flowers> began filming.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch36

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 36

Ran Lin’s last participation in a dinner gathering was at the end of last year, with the company’s CEO. At that time, several key artists from the company were present, all flattering the CEO to the utmost. Ran Lin also said a few words, but with so many people at the table, the CEO probably didn’t pay much attention to him.

Ran Lin didn’t particularly like these obligatory dinner gatherings, but he didn’t detest them either. Not every investor is looking to take advantage of actors, and among the few who do, most are interested in female actresses. So, in Ran Lin’s limited experience with such gatherings, his main task had been to flatter and please, making further conversations easier.

The investor of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> was the CEO of a well-known listed cultural and entertainment company, Lei Baishi. He was a straightforward person who never imposed on actors and only sought praise and cultural person with a pursuit of art.

The dinner was initiated by the CEO of another company, Mr. Ma, who had cooperated with Lei Baishi before and had a good relationship with him. Hence, he easily agreed to the meeting.

The dinner was scheduled for the evening of May 23rd, at a famous high-end club in Beijing—all arranged according to Lei Baishi’s preferences.

That morning, Wang Xi brought Ran Lin to the company for a brief training session. She briefed him on Lei Baishi’s background, personality, and preferences. Afterward, a stylist made sure Ran Lin looked his best.

“How do you feel?” Wang Xi looked at Ran Lin, who was polished and handsome, and was very satisfied.

Ran Lin, looking at himself in the mirror, also felt emotional. “I should come with a gift box and ribbon.”

Wang Xi laughed without humor. “Do you think anyone can be packaged and sent off like that? If that were possible, my job would be much easier. It would be a one-time deal, neat and straightforward.”

Ran Lin jokingly asked, “Are there still such one-time deals?”

Wang Xi, having not expected such a joke, seriously pondered for a moment and regretfully shook her head. “Not anymore. Even the most straightforward deals require a few months of packaging and depend on whether the investor is interested. Times have changed. In the past, actors were forced to accept unspoken rules, but now, if you’re not willing, step aside. There are plenty of others eager to take your place.”

“Alright, let’s stop this banter.” Wang Xi quickly got back to the point. “Did you memorize everything I told you?”

Ran Lin nodded vigorously. “Flattery first, drinks second. Once the mood is set by drinking, everything is easier to discuss.”

Wang Xi was exasperated. “Where did you get all this nonsense?” But then she thought about it and realized that it was indeed the case.

They arrived at the club five minutes before seven in the evening. The club was private, and they were led to a secluded room after navigating several corridors.

Wang Xi had chosen a moderately-sized room with a ten-person round table, even though there would be no more than six or seven guests. A smaller room was chosen to facilitate close communication, as speaking across a larger space would be cumbersome.

The menu had been pre-arranged by Wang Xi. Now, all that was left to do was to wait.

Ran Lin saw how seriously his agent was taking this and didn’t dare to take it lightly either.

An hour passed in silence, feeling like a year.

Finally, Wang Xi’s phone rang, and the lead person on the other end informed them they were about to arrive. Ran Lin breathed a sigh of relief, took a deep breath, and stood up with Wang Xi, preparing for the crucial moment.

“Mr. Ma—”

As soon as a figure appeared at the door, Wang Xi enthusiastically greeted him.

Ran Lin quickly followed, also smiling brightly.

The first to enter was Mr. Ma, the initiator of the dinner, in his forties, of medium build, wearing a crisp suit and gold-rimmed glasses, with a gentle and elegant smile. He entered the room, shaking hands with an overly enthusiastic Wang Xi. “Ms. Wang, you arrived quite early.”

“You can’t call me that, or how can we have a pleasant dinner and conversation tonight?” Wang Xi’s tone wasn’t complaining but rather coquettishly reproachful.

Ran Lin was stunned. He had never seen Wang Xi like this before—she seemed like a thawed iceberg, now a gentle and charming stream.

Mr. Ma seemed quite pleased with Wang Xi’s warmth. Just as he entered, he introduced Lei Baishi. “This is Mr. Lei. You know, he rarely dines with people. His presence today really honors you.”

The entrance of important figures always requires a buildup, just like the classic announcement at a school sports meet, “Approaching us now is the representative team of Class X of Year X.” At this moment, Mr. Ma was the announcer, and Mr. Lei was the leading contingent.

Lei Baishi certainly had the presence to dominate the scene.

In his early fifties but looking more like in his forties, he was tall and broad, with a square face and wide shoulders. As he entered, the room suddenly seemed less spacious.

He, like Mr. Ma, was dressed in a suit, his hair meticulously combed, his shoes shining, with deep-set features and a resolute expression. More than a CEO, he had the aura of a tough guy.

“Mr. Lei, I’m truly grateful for your presence today. Please, take the main seat—” Wang Xi had seen Lei Baishi from a distance at a wine party, but this was her first face-to-face meeting. She was quite surprised internally, but her face showed nothing but sweetness.

Lei Baishi accepted the gesture without hesitation and sat in the designated seat with a slight smile—polite yet distant.

Following Lei Baishi was his assistant, a bespectacled young man. After Lei Baishi settled, he whispered a few words, to which the assistant nodded and said, “Okay, Mr. Lei. I’ll wait for you in the car outside.”

Having an assistant is normal, but “waiting in the car” indicates that the person being waited for won’t stay long.

Ran Lin caught the nuance, and so did Wang Xi. But before they could react, another person entered the room.

Director Chen Qizheng!

Compared to the CEOs’ formal attire, Chen Qizheng was much more modest and understated.

Wang Xi already knew from the lead person that Director Chen would be coming, but as he hadn’t shown up earlier, she thought there might have been a change of plans. It turned out he was making a grand entrance.

“Director Chen—” Wang Xi got up again to warmly welcome the guest.

Ran Lin quickly stood up as well, respectfully greeting, “Director Chen.”

Director Chen Qizheng, unlike Lei Baishi, who deliberately puts on airs, was always aloof and rarely showed a smile to anyone other than investors. So, this time, he simply nodded at Wang Xi and glanced at Ran Lin without saying a word, then took his seat directly.

Finally, everyone had arrived.

Lei Baishi sat in the main seat, with Director Chen, Mr. Ma, and others around him. Wang Xi was next to Lei Baishi, and next to her was Ran Lin.

Ran Lin suddenly wanted to take back what he jokingly said about “gift boxes and ribbons” before leaving.

Compared to him, the two CEOs were genuinely prepped from head to toe, in crisp suits, and with shirts so wrinkle-free they could go to an awards ceremony.

The server, very observant, began to serve dishes, and soon, the table was almost full.

Wang Xi courteously spoke to the investor. “Mr. Lei, I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, so I just ordered a few dishes. If there’s anything unsatisfactory, please forgive us.”

“It’s okay. I can’t eat much anyway, as I have something else later,” Lei Baishi responded with a cold smile and then turned to the host, Mr. Ma, with a much warmer tone. “Ma Laodi*, please take care of everything tonight.”

*This is a combination of Lao + Di (younger brother). It’s often used as an address to refer to a close male friend or colleague who’s younger or similar age. You can think of it as him calling him (Younger) Brother Ma.

“What are you talking about, Mr. Lei? Your presence alone is an honor for me,” Mr. Ma said as he stood up, taking the bottle of Wuliangye that the waiter had just opened and poured a substantial amount into his cup, ready to drink it all in one go. “Come on, let’s fill up our cups. I’ll make the first toast.”

As a lead organizer, Mr. Ma was indeed very efficient.

Wang Xi gratefully passed a glance to Mr. Ma.

Mr. Ma, catching her glance out of the corner of his eye, didn’t make much of a fuss. After filling his own glass, he dutifully started to pour for Mr. Lei.

Mr. Lei subtly moved his cup away, smiling and shaking his head at his friend. “Ma Laodi, I really have something later on. I can’t do white liquor tonight. Let’s just stick with beer.”

Mr. Ma and Lei Baishi exchanged looks for two seconds. Understanding the situation. Mr. Ma quickly went along with it, saying, “Alright, let’s stick to beer today.”

Having said that, he put down the white liquor and picked up the beer, first filling Mr. Lei’s glass to the brim, then pouring one for Director Chen next to him, and finally taking a new empty glass for himself. He didn’t forget to beckon his friends across the table. “Ms. Wang, Star Ran, don’t just sit there. Do I really need to come over and pour for you?”

Mr. Ma’s words were spoken with a mix of humor and playfulness, livening up the atmosphere instantly.

Wang Xi hurriedly took the beer and poured herself a glass, turning to pour for Ran Lin, only to find that he had already prepared a full glass for himself.

Wang Xi was pleased.

Meanwhile, Mr. Ma had already picked up his glass, and although the dinner was funded by Wang Xi, he, as the organizer, seemed more like the host. Naturally, he had to open the dinner and set the tone. “Tonight’s dinner is a great honor, with Mr. Lei and Mr. Chen attending. Ms. Wang has been a friend of mine for many years. Since we are all here, it’s fate. Let’s not talk shop today and just enjoy each other’s company. Whoever breaks the rule will have to drink as a penalty. Come on—”

Following Mr. Ma’s lead, everyone graciously stood up and clinked their glasses together, marking the start of the evening.

Wang Xi drank her beer in one gulp, wanting to remind Ran Lin not to leave any, but when she turned back, she saw that he was already ahead of her.

At the other end, Chen Qizheng also downed his drink in one go. Lei Baishi was the slowest to drink, but he eventually emptied his glass, fully honoring Mr. Ma’s request.

“Mr. Lei, please try this dish…” Wang Xi kindly helped to rotate the dish, trying to make Lei Baishi feel at home while giving Ran Lin a meaningful look.

Ran Lin had just picked up a shrimp ball, but reluctantly put it down, swiftly filled his glass again, and then stood up with it, saying aloud, “Mr. Lei, I toast to you.”

Lei Baishi was waiting for this moment. Hearing this, he put down his chopsticks and looked up with interest. “A toast needs a reason. I don’t drink without one.”

Ran Lin’s heart skipped a beat, immediately realizing the question was a trap.

But he couldn’t help but answer it.

He could only sincerely say, “Of course, there is a reason. This first glass, I must thank you and Director Chen for valuing me. Without your support, with my experience, I wouldn’t have the chance to be part of <Sword of Fallen Flowers>.”

Lei Baishi was pleased with his answer, smiling and patting his forehead. “Who just said we’re not talking about work today?”

There was the trap.

In his heart, Ran Lin wanted to lash out at Lei Baishi, beating him until he cried for mother and father, but he quickly responded, “My mistake. I’ll penalize myself with a drink!”

Saying so, he raised his glass and drank it all in one gulp.

Lei Baishi was somewhat surprised by his straightforwardness, actually becoming a bit interested.

After finishing his drink, Ran Lin immediately refilled his glass and, without another word, raised it again. “Mr. Lei, this glass is for you. Even if I’m penalized, I accept it. Even if you don’t like to hear it, I must say, I’m truly grateful.”

After finishing his speech, he downed the drink again.

Lei Baishi was a bit dumbfounded.

So was Wang Xi.

Mr. Ma, however, was happily watching this unconventional approach, finding the dinner worthwhile.

At this point, Lei Baishi couldn’t be pretentious anymore. He really didn’t want to use Ran Lin and even didn’t want to attend this dinner any longer, but being toasted so sincerely, it would look bad for him to keep up his facade, and it wouldn’t match his principles.

“Alright, I’ll take this drink.” Saying so, he downed it in one go, spirited and assertive.

Matching Ran Lin’s drinking, this Mr. Lei directly poured it down his throat, clearly a veteran of many battles.

After toasting the investor, Ran Lin didn’t even sit down but immediately refilled his glass and toasted the director. “Director Chen, this glass is for you.”

Director Chen slightly narrowed his eyes, as if assessing.

Ran Lin felt like he was being scanned by an X-ray.

Fortunately, Chen Qizheng soon raised his glass. Though not as verbose as Mr. Lei, he simply said, “I’m not much of a drinker. Let’s do half a glass each.”

Ran Lin said nothing and just nodded.

Chen Qizheng slowly drank half a glass, while Ran Lin quickly emptied his.

After Chen Qizheng finished his drink, he realized that Ran Lin had already finished his and felt a bit amused and apologetic. He wasn’t much of a drinker and didn’t enjoy drinking, nor did he have Mr. Lei’s pleasure in getting people drunk. Ran Lin’s straightforwardness made him feel a bit guilty.

Unexpectedly, Ran Lin said, “You taking even a sip is an honor for me, but as I toast to you, I must finish my drink. It’s a matter of courtesy.”

His words were pleasing, and his drinking was hearty. He not only smoothed things over but also showed his sincerity. Chen Qizheng suddenly felt that his previous understanding of Ran Lin might have been biased, at least not comprehensive.

The young man before him presented a completely different demeanor from the day of the audition, which both surprised and intrigued him.

Wang Xi, who was also impressed, doubted whether she had brought a fake Ran Lin today. She thought she would have to carry the dinner party herself to avoid awkwardness, but as soon as Ran Lin picked up his glass, he transformed magnificently and unexaggeratedly, becoming bold in a second.

While Wang Xi was still trying to figure things out, Ran Lin had already toasted to Mr. Ma, still speaking politely and always hitting the right note, which Mr. Ma appreciated by drinking his glass in one gulp.

Fortunately, there were few people, and toasting three was like making a round.

Wang Xi thought Ran Lin would sit down, but the young man refilled his glass and headed towards her. “Xi Jie, I also want to thank you. Without your guidance, I would still be in the third-rate category, and no one would know who Ran Lin is. Xi Jie, I’ll finish this glass, and you can do as you please.”

Touched by his words, Wang Xi instinctively picked up her glass.

Ran Lin smiled and clinked glasses with her, producing a clear sound, and then decisively finished his drink.

One drink to start, one as a penalty, four in toasts—equivalent to chugging six drinks in one go, which wasn’t easy even for beer. But Ran Lin seemed unfazed and became even more bold as he drank, resembling Lei Baishi and pouring straight into his throat.

When he finally put the empty glass back on the table, Lei Baishi clapped twice, his distant politeness fading, replaced by a hint of sentiment. “So many people, once they become famous and successful, forget their roots and how they struggled to get there.” Lei Baishi emphasized, “Ran Lin, your gratitude is rare.”

Ran Lin bowed opportunistically, refilling Lei Baishi’s glass across Wang Xi.

Lei Baishi showed his first smile since entering the room, albeit a bit helpless. “Is this how you repay my compliment?”

Ran Lin laughed, relaxed and natural, with a hint of brotherly affection. “In this case, Mr. Lei, no matter how many times I toast to you, I’ll drink two glasses for your one, so you can’t say I’m forcing you.”

“You’re not forcing me, you’re insulting me.”

Lei Baishi couldn’t stand being looked down upon!

He slammed the table. “If you drink two, I’ll drink two; if you drink eight, I’ll join you for sixteen!”

Lei Baishi’s passion ignited, and Mr. Ma, watching, almost choked with laughter.

Who was accompanying whom?

That’s why people shouldn’t have weaknesses. Someone like Lei Baishi, who loves drinking and boasting, enjoys being flattered and can’t tolerate provocation. Ran Lin had precisely targeted his Achilles’ heel.

He surreptitiously gave Wang Xi a look of admiration.

Wang Xi shook her head with a dry laugh at Mr. Ma.

She also wanted to know what had transformed her artist so radically before they set out.

All beginnings are hard.

The same goes for drinking.

There’s really no difficulty; whoever dares to compete and let go can dominate the scene with the first shot.

Ran Lin had learned this from his father, who had been drinking all his life.

Thanks to his father, he had attended many dinner parties organized by various uncles and elders.

What were called dinner parties were actually drinking parties.

Now, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that no matter what status, as long as you get into the spirit at a drinking party, it’s all the same.

“I’ll tell you, <Sword of Fallen Flowers> is going to be a huge hit. There’s always talk that wuxia is dead, but I don’t believe that! I always say that there are no dead themes, only people who can’t manage projects. Ask Director Chen. Didn’t I say the same when I invited him out of retirement…”

As the drinks and dishes passed, any pretense of “having something else to do” was forgotten, and the assistant waiting in the car wisely didn’t come in to urge him. As for not talking about work, that rule was broken by Lei Baishi, who spoke of creating major IPs, saving domestic TV dramas, and reviving the martial arts craze.

Ran Lin could hear the investor’s dreams but also saw the resignation in the director’s eyes.

A layman leading experts is quite a powerless thing.

Fortunately, Lei Baishi, the layman, wasn’t too authoritarian and showed basic respect for the director. Though the script was changed, it wasn’t done stubbornly, and he listened to the director’s opinions—a compromise on both sides.

Even in casting, if there was no respect for the director and screenwriter, Ran Lin’s nomination as Fang Xian wouldn’t have been possible.

“Xiao Ran, have you seen the latest version of the script?” Lei Baishi, eating a fish, suddenly asked.

The change in address reflected the rapid advancement of relationships during the dinner.

Ran Lin quickly replied, “I have. Is it the version where the love story is particularly touching?”

Wang Xi raised her eyebrows slightly, giving Ran Lin a look of approval.

Ran Lin smiled, trying not to let his amusement show too much.

Lei Baishi’s eyes lit up, never having heard such a comment about the script before, was heartily pleased. “You also think this version is good?”

“Of course,” Ran Lin replied without hesitation, then prayed internally for forgiveness for his white lie. “As soon as I read the script, I felt it was completely different. Highlighting the romantic storyline adds a touch of gentleness to the tough intrigue of martial arts. While audiences love straightforward revenge, they also appreciate subtle and moving scenes. Hard and soft together make for perfection.”

“We should have brought Song Mang here today to hear you say this.” Lei Baishi, moved as if he found a kindred spirit, slapped the table. “Enough with beer, bring out the liquor!”

Ran Lin could imagine how vexed Lei Baishi must have been by screenwriter Song Mang’s stubbornness; hence, only Director Chen was present and not the screenwriter, with whom he was probably at odds.

Switching from beer to liquor, Lei Baishi was the most excited, while Chen Qizheng was the most reluctant, wishing not to drink at all.

Mr. Ma spent the entire evening enjoying the lively atmosphere, witnessing Lei Baishi’s transformation from disdain to almost brotherly camaraderie with Ran Lin. He genuinely felt that even if he had to pay for the meal himself, it would be worth it.

Driven by curiosity, he sent a few WeChat messages to Wang Xi under the table.

The so-called “long-time friends” was just a made-up excuse. In reality, Wang Xi had added him on WeChat through a mutual friend, and they had only known each other for a few days. But once added, they were friends, and it wasn’t awkward to chat a bit at the same table.

Ma Kuidou: [Your kid is really good at chatting, impressive.]

Wang Xi: [Just average, really.]

Ma Kuidou: [Lucky he’s a guy. If it were a girl, Lao Lei would probably make a mistake.]

Wang Xi: [Haha.]

Ma Kuidou: [And he can hold his liquor, never gets drunk even after a thousand cups.]

Wang Xi: [I’m a bit shocked too. He’s never drunk like this before.]

Ma Kuidou: [🤨]

Wang Xi: [Seriously, would I lie to you? It’s my first time seeing him drink like this.]

Ma Kuidou: [Then he’s a hidden talent, promising.]

Ma Kuidou: [Rest assured, the matter you’re concerned about, I think there’s a chance.]

Chen Qizheng watched everything with a cold eye. On one side, Lei Baishi and Ran Lin were drinking passionately, and on the other, Wang Xi and Ma Kuidou were happily chatting privately. He felt like the most redundant person in the room.

The only consolation was that, noticing his reluctance to drink, Ran Lin didn’t toast him after the initial round.

This was a young man that was much smarter than he had imagined.

And… he really could drink.

Lei Baishi was already a bit tipsy, starting to talk about the origin of his name—inspired by Qi Baishi*, chosen by his grandfather, carrying the family’s high hopes.

*A Chinese painter, noted for the whimsical, often playful style of his works. Born to a peasant family from Xiangtan, Hunan, Qi taught himself to paint, sparked by the Manual of the Mustard Seed Garden.

Unfortunately, he had no talent in painting, but at least he could excel in other artistic fields, like the film and television industry.

By contrast, Ran Lin’s cheeks were slightly flushed, but his eyes were clear, obviously still lucid.

Lei Baishi became more emotional as he talked, starting to reminisce about his struggles. Ran Lin finally took the opportunity to slip to the restroom when Lei Baishi’s attention shifted elsewhere—like to Mr. Ma.

Although there was a restroom in the private room, Ran Lin chose the one in the hallway.

Once in the restroom, he went straight into a stall, locked the door, opened the toilet, and vomited violently.

Ran Lin didn’t like drinking, but he did have a high tolerance, likely a family trait, mainly inherited from his mother.

Despite his father’s love for alcohol, his mother was the real expert. It was said that during their courtship, she pretended not to know how to drink, but when his father insisted on toasting, she ended up under the table.

But not getting drunk didn’t mean he couldn’t feel bloated, especially with beer. Drinking recklessly could lead to an uncomfortably swollen stomach.

After flushing the toilet, Ran Lin stood up, feeling much better.

He rinsed his mouth with cold water, splashed some on his face, and took a deep breath, feeling refreshed inside and out.

Lei Baishi was quite straightforward as a person. As a businessman, he focused on profit, but as an artist, he genuinely pursued his passions. And as a drinking buddy, he was the most sincere, not tolerating anyone outdrinking him.

This last point was independent of status; all drinkers are one family.

Not wanting to delay too long, Ran Lin left the restroom, only to run into Chen Qizheng in the hallway.

“Director Chen?” Ran Lin had intentionally gone to the outside restroom, not understanding why Chen Qizheng would be there.

Chen Qizheng didn’t speak but stared at Ran Lin for two seconds before suddenly asking, “Did you vomit?”

Ran Lin was taken aback and instinctively wanted to deny it, but realizing Chen Qizheng must have noticed, he hesitantly admitted, “Director Chen, you have sharp eyes.”

“Save the compliments for Mr. Lei,” Chen Qizheng said dryly.

Ran Lin awkwardly laughed.

“How do you feel about the character Fang Xian?” Chen Qizheng asked casually but directly.

Caught off guard, Ran Lin hesitated before cautiously answering, “The character’s conflict mainly revolves around him and Tang Jingyu, making it a challenging role.”

Chen Qizheng stared intently at Ran Lin; his eyes sharp. “Can you handle it?”

Ran Lin felt immense pressure. He hadn’t felt this way facing the disdainful Lei Baishi, but Chen Qizheng’s gaze made him feel exposed.

Wang Xi had arranged this gathering so he could compete for the second lead role, and he had gone along with it, as it wasn’t a decision he could make based on his preferences. It was both the company’s desire and an objective judgment; it wouldn’t make sense to settle for a lesser role with less screen time.

But Chen Qizheng’s question revealed his hesitation and doubt.

Faced with such penetrating eyes, Ran Lin could only be honest. “I don’t know. Fang Xian changes a lot from the early to later stages of the story. He goes from being arrogant and carefree to conflicted, suffering, and struggling. His relationship with Tang Jingyu shifts from brotherly to hostile, almost destroying and then rebirthing him. I feel it’s quite distant from my personality…”

Chen Qizheng interrupted him mercilessly. “If I had known you thought this way, I wouldn’t have let you play Xu Chongfei.”

Ran Lin was speechless, standing there somewhat helplessly.

Chen Qizheng stared at him unblinkingly, his voice low and firm. “Remember, a true actor doesn’t play characters that are like them; they make themselves like the characters.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch35

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 35

Ran Lin received the final script of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> in mid-May, on a warm evening. The weather had gradually warmed up, and people were already starting to wear short sleeves during the hottest part of the day. It was also said that the Miya Shampoo advertisement would be aired that day, so Ran Lin had been watching the TV closely after lunch.

The wind, carrying the warmth of the setting sun, blew in through the screen window, lulling him into drowsiness. Amidst his half-asleep state, Wang Xi called to inform him that the final script from the production had arrived. Before he could even rejoice, his own flowing hair finally appeared on TV.

Who says fortune doesn’t come double?

Ran Lin felt as happy as a sunflower in the sun.

The advertisement didn’t use Ran Lin’s original voice; it was dubbed from start to finish. Even the part where he played the guitar only kept the image without the actual guitar melody and singing. Due to time constraints, the guitar scene was only a few seconds long, and since Ran Lin sang someone else’s song, it involved copyright issues. So the advertisement added different BGM for that part. As the scene quickly passed, the screen displayed a close-up of the shampoo bottle, and the narration was the powerful slogan of the ad.

But Ran Lin’s rosy lips and white teeth were still clearly reflected through the camera, so much so that while watching, one would ignore the hair and focus on the face.

Ran Lin regretted not sending a WeChat red packet to the photographer.

“Hello? Are you there?” Wang Xi was puzzled as the call went silent halfway.

The TV had started airing other ads, and Ran Lin, regaining his focus, giggled. “Xi Jie, I saw my own ad.”

Wang Xi was infected by his joy and laughed along. “How does it feel?”

Thinking back to those scenes, Ran Lin was quite sentimental. “They made me look too good…”

Wang Xi was confused, unable to tell if he was boasting or being modest.

“This is just the beginning. You’ll have more and more endorsements in the future, and they’ll be of higher caliber.” Wang Xi got back to business. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll have Liu Wanwan bring the final script to you. As for the contract, I expect it to come in a few days. Our company will check the clauses; you just need to sign it at the end.”

“Okay, Xi Jie.”

Actually, Ran Lin couldn’t wait to see the script, but since Wang Xi said it would be delivered first thing in the morning and there were still more than three months left, one night wouldn’t make much difference.

After hanging up with his agent, Ran Lin no longer had to feign composure and let out an excited shout, diving into the sofa like Nezha, causing havoc in the sea. After feeling like he had stirred up the Dragon Palace enough, the excitement running through his body gradually settled down. Still, his heart thumped wildly, reminiscent of the days he received his university acceptance letter.

It wasn’t Ran Lin’s first time acting in a TV drama, but such a big investment, such a great setup, and such an important role were indeed like a dream come true for him, something he wouldn’t have dared to imagine before.

Although he had confirmed his name on the preliminary list from Lu Yiyao and Wang Xi a few days ago, it was still just “preliminary”, and no one could guarantee it was set in stone. Now that the script had arrived and the contract was soon to follow, everything seemed to be falling into place, bringing an unprecedented sense of reassurance.

Without much thought, Ran Lin dialed his mother’s phone number. At this time, the shop should be less busy, and his mother would likely be cleaning up.

Thinking this, the phone on the other end was already answered, and his mother’s voice was as hearty as ever. “Son, what’s up?”

Ran Lin loved his mom’s directness, going straight to the point. In fact, communication between the three members of their family was always in this style. “Mom, I’m on TV!”

His mom was confused. “You’ve been on TV for a while now. Your dad and I watched all eight episodes.”

“Not that, an advertisement.” Ran Lin, holding back until everything was certain, was now eager to show off. “XX channel, go watch tonight; my shampoo ad is on!”

“Really?!” His mom also got excited. “Which channel did you just say?”

“XX channel.”

“Okay, your dad and I will be watching tonight!”

Ran Lin frowned. “Dad’s not there? Went drinking with Uncle Zhao again?”

His mom: “No…”

Ran Lin: “Then that’s good.”

His mom: “He went fishing with your Uncle Zhang.”

Ran Lin: “…”

The bun shop was jointly run by his parents, but over the years, it had settled into a routine. With a few employees hired, they weren’t as busy as before. So his dad, seemingly trying to recapture his youth, often went out to have fun with his buddies.

Sighing, Ran Lin couldn’t add fuel to the fire and only comforted his mom. “Dad has a lot of friends. Try to understand.”

Instead of calming her down, this made his mom even angrier, and her voice rose an octave. “He has friends? Don’t I have friends? Your Auntie He, Auntie Zhou, Auntie Sun, and Auntie Li have invited me out for trips so many times. If I were heartless like your dad, I would have left the shop behind long ago and disappeared!”

Ran Lin smiled, knowing his mom just needed to vent. And if he guessed right, she would soon bring up their usual topic…

“Son, it’s only because of you that I can spend a lifetime with your dad…”

Right on cue.

Ran Lin had heard this from middle school to high school and from high school to university. As a kid, he used to worry about his parents’ relationship. Now he saw through it, finding it an expression of their love.

“Alright, son, I won’t talk to you anymore. With such great news, I need to tell Auntie He, Auntie Zhou, Auntie Sun, and Auntie Li. They ask about you every day…”

Ran Lin held his forehead, as these aunts were his mom’s close friends who had watched him grow up. The saying goes, “Three women make a drama*”, but in his case, with his mom, it was five women. Now, just hearing these aunts’ names brought back memories of being pinched and pampered by them in his childhood.

*Saying use to describe situations where a small group of women are involved in gossiping, chatting, or engaging in overly dramatic or emotional ways, leading to lively, noisy, or complicated situations akin to a theatrical drama.

Before Ran Lin could respond, his excited mom had already hung up the phone. She was probably either flipping through her phone book looking for her sisters’ numbers or announcing it directly in their WeChat group.

Ran Lin, smiling, thought for a moment, and then called his dad.

His dad answered almost immediately but spoke in a hushed tone, “Son, what’s up? You should choose a better time to call. You scared away the fish.”

Ran Lin rolled his eyes. “What’s more important, your son or the fish?”

Ran Yimin: “…”

Ran Lin: “Do you even need to think about this question!”

Ran Yimin: “Of course, you are more important.”

He seriously pondered before giving an answer…

Ran Lin sighed helplessly, setting aside the advertisement to become the lubricant for his parents’ relationship. “I just called Mom. She’s still busy in the shop. You should be more considerate of her. Don’t keep running out every other day.”

“My going out every other day? Did your mom tell you that?” Ran Lin’s father was indignant, trying to keep his voice down due to the presence of his fishing buddies, but the sense of injustice was evident. “I’ve only been out once this week. Ask Xiao Cai if you don’t believe me.”

Xiao Cai was a long-time helper at the shop. Ran Lin’s father mentioning Xiao Cai proved he was telling the truth. Ran Lin frowned slightly, noting that he should take his mother’s words with a grain of salt in the future.

“Son, it’s only because Dad has you that anyone can spend a lifetime with your mom…”

Ran Lin was struck by how familiar this line sounded.

The other end of the phone continued to narrate a tale of woe. “You have no idea. Your mom’s nagging is unbearable—it’s like torture. Only I can endure it…”

Ran Lin looked up at the sky, facing parents who competed in misery. What should he do?

He decided to stun them with his good news.

“Dad,” Ran Lin interrupted his father. “I filmed an advertisement, for shampoo. You can see it on TV tonight when you get home.”

“Really?!” The voice on the phone exploded, almost sounding like a loudspeaker.

Ran Lin quickly moved the phone away, reminding, “Dad, aren’t you afraid of scaring the fish away?”

“Fish? What fish! Hey, Lao* Zhang, stop fishing. My son’s in an advertisement hahaha—”

*Old () When used with a name, it’s a friendly way to address someone, often indicating familiarity, respect, or affection.

Another familiar scene of boasting. Ran Lin looked out the window, where two sparrows were chirping away.

How could parents like them not get along?

They’re a perfect match!

Finally done dealing with his worrisome parents, Ran Lin picked up his phone to message Lu Yiyao on WeChat, wanting to tell him about his advertisement. But halfway through typing, he paused, realizing this act was no different from his mom eagerly sharing the news or his dad calling Uncle Zhang.

A chill went down his spine.

Ran Lin deleted the half-typed message.

Ah, genetics—an inevitable fate.

……

Lu Yiyao also received the script on the same evening, but unlike Ran Lin, he had two differences: one, Yao Hong personally delivered the script to his home, and two, the final contract came with it.

Evidently, compared to various supporting roles, the production was more urgent about finalizing the male lead. Yao Hong also wanted to settle it quickly because only a signed contract on paper provided security for both parties. But no matter how urgent, she needed to read the final draft first. In recent years, the industry was rife with pitfalls, and a verbally promised male lead role was only concrete when it materialized in the script.

“Read the script first. If there are no issues, we can sign the contract. It will stipulate that the current draft in your hands is the basis, and any future changes must be approved by you.”

“Understood,” Lu Yiyao said, entering a serious and focused work mode.

Yao Hong didn’t linger, standing up to leave. “I’ve also kept a copy of the script. I’ll read it too. Let’s communicate about any issues. We must decide whether to sign the contract by the day after tomorrow.”

Lu Yiyao nodded in acknowledgment.

After Yao Hong left, Lu Yiyao immediately went to his study and began reading the script intently.

He spent the entire night reading the thick script.

Although Yao Hong warned him not to stay up late, there were exceptions. Judging from her tone, the day after tomorrow was the latest deadline, and Lu Yiyao preferred to work ahead of the last moment.

Moreover, the more he read the script, the more things seemed off. When he stepped out of the study at dawn, the first rays of sunlight filled the living room, but amidst this brilliance, Lu Yiyao felt a chill.

The script had changed.

While his role as Tang Jingyu remained largely the same, other characters’ parts had fundamentally shifted.

If related actors didn’t read the script carefully or signed the contract without reading it at all… they would regret it later. The waters of the entertainment industry are deep, and one must be vigilant not to drown.

It was still early, so Lu Yiyao, worried Yao Hong might not be up yet, decided to sit in the living room and watch TV for over an hour.

Initially, just to pass the time, he unexpectedly saw Ran Lin’s advertisement.

On the screen, Ran Lin appeared disheveled, unsuccessfully wooing a goddess, then washing his hair and transforming dramatically, looking incredibly handsome with a guitar.

Lu Yiyao curiously furrowed his brows, trying to discern from the brief footage whether Ran Lin was pretending or actually knew how to play the guitar.

Unfortunately, the scene flashed too quickly, and the loud BGM interfered with Lu Yiyao’s judgment.

After pondering, Lu Yiyao searched for Miya’s latest men’s shampoo on his phone, then sent a screenshot of the bottle to Li Tong—[Buy me a bottle of this shampoo and bring it to me when we go to Shanghai the day after tomorrow.]

There was no reply; the vacationing assistant was probably still sleeping soundly.

Lu Yiyao wasn’t in a hurry and put down his phone, continuing to watch the morning news.

Finally, at 8 a.m., Lu Yiyao muted the TV and called Yao Hong. When she picked up, he got straight to the point. “Hong Jie, there’s a problem with the script.”

Yao Hong had only read a few pages of the script last night before being too tired to continue. She planned to read it this morning but was alarmed by her artist’s call. “What problem?”

Lu Yiyao said, “The part for Fang Xian is not right.”

Yao Hong was startled, thinking she had misheard. “Fang Xian?”

“Yes,” Lu Yiyao said. “Fang Xian and Tang Jingyu are both male leads, so their parts should be roughly equal. But in the final draft you gave me yesterday, Fang Xian’s part is nowhere near Tang Jingyu’s. Judging from this script, Fang Xian is more like a secondary male lead, nowhere close to the primary.”

Yao Hong asked, “Did they change the main storyline? Did they alter the plot?”

Lu Yiyao replied, “The main storyline remains the same, and the plot hasn’t changed, but Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao’s romantic scenes are heavily emphasized. Overall, Tang Jingyu is the male lead, Zhao Buyao the female lead, and Fang Xian just comes in third.”

Yao Hong asked, “Are you sure?”

Lu Yiyao confirmed. “I spent all night reading the script; there’s no mistake.”

There was a pause on the other end before Yao Hong slowly said, “Yu Dong won’t play a supporting role to you, let alone a tertiary character.”

“That’s what worries me.” Lu Yiyao sighed. “Yu Dong will explode seeing this script. He’ll either refuse to act and won’t sign the contract, leaving the production to find someone else, or he’ll force them to revert to the original double male lead setup.”

On the surface, these changes didn’t seem to affect Lu Yiyao, who played Tang Jingyu, much. His scenes weren’t reduced, nor was he the one demoted from first to third. But Yu Dong’s uncertainty would lead to script uncertainty, which in turn would affect the overall production. Lu Yiyao had to be extra cautious. Yao Hong was even more prudent than Lu Yiyao in this regard.

“Here’s what we’ll do.” Yao Hong deliberated for a moment before telling Lu Yiyao. “I’ll find out what’s going on as soon as possible. I’ll have news for you by this afternoon.”

Lu Yiyao trusted Yao Hong’s connections. “Okay.”

With his mind preoccupied, Lu Yiyao had no interest in anything else and buried himself in the script again. Though Yao Hong said she’d contact him in the afternoon, she actually called just after noon.

“The script change was ordered by the investors?” Lu Yiyao wasn’t too surprised, having met the art-loving investor. It made sense for someone who had spent money wanting a say in the creative process. He just didn’t expect the changes to be so drastic.

“Yes, the investor wanted to highlight the love story, so the script you see now emphasizes the male and female leads, shifting away from the double male lead concept,” Yao Hong said, accustomed to such industry maneuvers.

Lu Yiyao still felt the changes were too arbitrary, considering the collective effort that went into the script. “Did the director and screenwriter have no say? With Director Chen’s and Song Mang’s experience, they should have some influence, right?”

“Director Chen is a seasoned veteran at this; he sees right through these things. Song Meng did make a fuss; he even slammed the table with the investors, but it was no use. Art always has to bow to capital, so in the end, they had to revise the script as told.”

“So, the script we have now is definitely the final version?” Lu Yiyao’s primary concern remained this issue.

“Definitely the final version.” Yao Hong assured him, then added with a nuanced tone, “So, Yu Dong has definitely decided not to act.”

“Of course.” Lu Yiyao sighed. “If I were Yu Dong, I’d be furious seeing such a script.”

Before finishing his sentence, Lu Yiyao suddenly remembered Ran Lin mentioning seeing Zhang Beichen during the audition and asked Yao Hong, “Since Yu Dong’s out, who’s playing Fang Xian. Zhang Beichen?”

“How did you know Zhang Beichen wanted that role… Oh right, you guys have a WeChat group.” Yao Hong answered her own question, not thinking much of it. “Zhang Beichen definitely won’t get the role; he just signed another drama and doesn’t have the schedule.”

“Just signed?”

“Yes, just a few days off. If he had signed a bit later, he might have had a chance. It’s just bad luck.”

Yao Hong and Lu Yiyao both understood that no matter how much worse the other drama was compared to <Sword of Fallen Flowers> Zhang Beichen couldn’t possibly breach his contract for this one. No production would work with an actor with a history of contract violations. Zhang Beichen, no matter how regretful, had no choice but to accept it. To put it nicely, it was just a matter of not being destined for the role.

“Anyway, I might as well tell you.” Yao Hong initially didn’t want to mention it, but considering the two might communicate privately, she didn’t see the need to be secretive with her own artist. “The director and screenwriter are leaning towards having Ran Lin take over Fang Xian. The investors haven’t agreed yet; it depends on whether Ran Lin’s team can do a good job.”

Caught off guard by this unexpected development, Lu Yiyao was at a loss. “Ran Lin playing Fang Xian? Then who’s playing Xu Chongfei?”

“That’s for the production to worry about. It’s definitely easier to find a male third lead than a second, especially with just over three months to shooting. Most well-known actors with a bit of popularity are already booked,” Yao Hong said, then, sensing something odd in Lu Yiyao’s tone, asked, “You’re not happy with Ran Lin playing Fang Xian?”

Lu Yiyao was taken aback and quickly clarified, “No, I’m just… surprised.”

Yao Hong understood. “Looks like he didn’t tell you either.”

Lu Yiyao had no response.

Yao Hong didn’t know what to say. She had always thought of Lu Yiyao as a smart and insightful artist, but whenever Ran Lin was involved, his IQ and EQ seemed to plummet off a cliff. That airport banner must have been dipped in a magic potion.

“Anyway, that’s the situation. The script won’t change anymore. You’re firmly the male lead, which is good for you. If you see no problem, I’ll arrange to sign the contract tomorrow. They’ve been waiting for confirmation.”

“I have no issues,” Lu Yiyao said about the script and contract, but regarding Ran Lin…

After hanging up, Lu Yiyao immediately called Ran Lin. Ran Lin was also reading the script at the time, mainly focusing on Xu Chongfei. He noted the significant increase in the romantic storyline between Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao and the quiet reduction in Fang Xian’s part, but it didn’t deeply impact him.

Then, the phone rang.

It was noon, and Ran Lin was still ordering takeout, but a hunch made him check the caller ID. Sure enough, it was “Teacher Lu”.

“Hello?” Ran Lin didn’t think he sounded different, but to others, his voice already seemed to be floating with excitement.

“It’s me, Lu Yiyao.” Teacher Lu had also learned to introduce himself first.

Ran Lin chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Although you still picked a time when I’m ordering food, I checked the caller ID this time.”

Lu Yiyao was exasperated with his timing, but he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. He quickly became serious, with a hint of complaint only he was aware of. “I’m here to congratulate you again on Fang Xian.”

Ran Lin was confused. “Ah? What about Fang Xian?”

Lu Yiyao frowned, feeling doubly hurt by the other’s feigned ignorance. “Aren’t you changing from Xu Chongfei to Fang Xian?”

Ran Lin was baffled. “Who told you that? How do I not know about this? Besides, isn’t Yu Dong playing Fang Xian? I can’t possibly displace him even if I struggle for another five years.”

Lu Yiyao: “……”

Something seemed off again.

Lu Yiyao swallowed nervously, losing confidence. “You don’t know that the script changed from double male leads to a male and female lead, and that Yu Dong has already refused the role?”

Ran Lin: “I just received the script yesterday and am still reading it. Indeed, there are changes to Fang Xian’s role, but it doesn’t concern me much, so I didn’t pay much attention.”

Lu Yiyao: “So you’re also unaware of the director and screenwriter’s intention to have you play Fang Xian?”

Ran Lin: “Really, me, play, Fang, Xian?!”

Lu Yiyao: “……”

Clearly, Ran Lin was truly unaware.

Lu Yiyao silently sighed, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

First, Ran Lin had no idea about Yu Dong rejecting the role.

Second, Ran Lin was also unaware of the director and screenwriter’s preference for him to play Fang Xian.

Third, as the male lead of the drama, he again recklessly made a call, leading to another awkward situation. What should he do now?

“Why do you always bring me good news these days? Are you a harbinger of joy?”

“……Yes, we’re friends, after all. I must inform you of any news immediately!”

Ran Lin, the little dove of love and peace!

“Now I understand why my agent has been stalling on the contract. She was worried about any unforeseen changes. So, that’s the reason.” Combining the information provided by Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin was finally able to piece everything together. However, he then asked, “Are you sure the director and screenwriter prefer me? What about Zhang Beichen? He auditioned for Fang Xian.”

“He has already signed another drama,” Lu Yiyao informed truthfully.

Ran Lin, as surprised as Lu Yiyao had been earlier, responded, “That was quick?”

Lu Yiyao: “We earn our money daily. An open schedule even for a day is a loss.”

Ran Lin: “We…we?”

Lu Yiyao: “Cough. A slip of the tongue. I meant ‘us’, yes, ‘us.’”

Ran Lin laughed. “Alright, as a small-time actor, I won’t pretend to be a big shot in front of Teacher Lu.” After saying this, he sighed softly.

Lu Yiyao, hearing the truth in his tone, asked curiously, “What’s wrong?”

Ran Lin pondered for a moment, then said honestly, “While it’s indeed good news, I’ve been immersing myself in the character of Xu Chongfei ever since I started fighting for this role. Suddenly being told I might switch to Fang Xian…”

Lu Yiyao chuckled. “This is the first time I’ve seen someone worried about going from a third lead to a second lead.”

Ran Lin tried to explain his thoughts and concerns. “It’s not that. It’s just that Fang Xian is more unruly and has a stronger personality compared to Xu Chongfei. He has more inner conflicts, and I worry I might not be able to handle it.”

Lu Yiyao understood but didn’t fully relate. “It’s all acting. Whether you play Xu Chongfei or Fang Xian, just adapt accordingly. The role is a role; more screen time is what truly matters. I know the character of the third lead is more likable, but no matter how likable, with less screen time and fewer scenes, your presence will always be overshadowed. That’s why everyone fights to be the lead.”

Ran Lin: “But I’m already in character. Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I feel like I am Xu Chongfei. It’s hard to detach from that emotional investment in a role.”

Lu Yiyao: “Is it really that magical…?”

“Don’t you ever feel that way?” Ran Lin earnestly described. “When you’re deeply invested in a character, you feel like you are them, and they are you. It’s hard to completely separate the two.”

Lu Yiyao: “……”

He hadn’t experienced such a phenomenon and felt it was too complex. But admitting that seemed unprofessional.

Why does he always end up in these tricky situations during calls with Ran Lin?

The mainland star was puzzled.

Fortunately, Ran Lin, entangled in various worries, didn’t demand a professional response from his friend and continued, “And if I end up playing Fang Xian, what about Zhang Beichen…”

Lu Yiyao clarified. “You don’t need to worry about that. If Zhang Beichen hadn’t signed another drama, the role might have been his. But since he did, you have this opportunity. It’s fair competition. No one owes anyone anything.”

Ran Lin was silent for a while, then sincerely said, “Yeah, I understand. Thank you.”

Lu Yiyao felt a sense of guilt as if he was wielding a big sword, and the other welcomed him with a warm face, offering tea and even making a sheath for his sword, snugly fitting it in.

“No need to thank me. We’re friends.” Lu Yiyao couldn’t think of anything new to say and had to use the line again.

Ran Lin, feeling warmth in his heart, responded, “Yeah, friends.”

With different emotions, the two hung up the phone.

Lu Yiyao leaned back in his chair, covered his face with the thick script, and vowed to think thrice… no, thirty times before calling Ran Lin again!

Ran Lin, holding his still-warm phone, immediately contacted Wang Xi.

When Wang Xi received Ran Lin’s call, she was eating watermelon, cutting it into pieces with a fork. Hearing that Ran Lin might play Fang Xian, the fork dropped back into the bowl with a clang.

“Really? Is the news reliable?” Wang Xi asked in shock.

“Lu Yiyao told me, so it should be.” Ran Lin wasn’t sure either, which was why he reached out to Wang Xi.

Wang Xi quickly realized it must be news from Yao Hong.

This was almost certain, given Yao Hong’s extensive network in the industry, deeper and stronger than hers. And with Lu Yiyao being the lead actor of the drama, Yao Hong would certainly pay more attention to major role changes.

However, having her artist bring her the news was slightly annoying.

And Lu Yiyao was too quick to speak; if Yao Hong knew, she would be worried too.

“Focus on the script for now, whether it’s Xu Chongfei or Fang Xian. Just read both if you have time. If there’s really a role change, there should be news in the next few days.”

“Alright.”

………

As it turned out, Yao Hong’s information was reliable. Within a couple of days, Wang Xi confirmed the news through various channels. However, the reason the production team hadn’t informed them was that the investor hadn’t given the green light yet.

Fang Xian, though not the male lead, was still an important character, and the investor wasn’t confident in letting Ran Lin play the role.

Money always comes first, even for those who pursue art.

Not one to sit idly by, Wang Xi immediately leveraged all her connections upon confirming the intentions of the director and screenwriter, eventually securing a dinner meeting with the investor.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch34

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 34

The eighth episode of <National First Love Drifting Story> was delayed by a week and only aired on April 11th.

By then, Lu Yiyao’s workload had returned to normal. Although there were no more back-to-back schedules, his agenda was still fully booked. By the time he remembered to watch the grand finale of the show, it was already after the Labor Day holiday.

That day, a spring rain had just ended, injecting a touch of coolness into the continuously rising temperatures. Beijing rarely saw a blue sky, and the leaves on the trees lining the streets were washed a bright, verdant green, swaying gently in the lazy sunlight.

Lu Yiyao opened all the windows of his apartment, letting the cross breeze blow through, clearing away the haze of the entire winter, and making his mood feel refreshed and clear.

If one were to remove the sandstorms and the lingering chill, only considering the gentle rain and the refreshing air as the standard for spring, then Beijing’s spring always arrives late and leaves early, heartbreakingly brief.

Fortunately, Lu Yiyao was able to steal a moment of leisure in this fleeting season.

“The biggest feeling from the whole season is that the interaction between people is a very wonderful thing…”

On the TV screen in the living room, Lu Yiyao sat talking, apparently facing the director, but the camera only showed Lu Yiyao and the program’s logo backdrop behind him.

On the screen was Lu Yiyao from a month and a half ago, and on the sofa outside the screen was the present Lu Yiyao.

Perhaps because he had been cooped up in the media room lately, watching the program in the afternoon sunlight felt quite nice.

“One sentence for each person… Xia Xinran is like a little sun, always burning brightly, enjoying himself and warming others; Zhang Beichen, youthful and vibrant, I think he’s the most like a campus first love among us; Gu Jie, a tough guy, it’s a pity this season didn’t have real-life CS or tactical-style games; otherwise, he would have been unbeatable; Ran Lin… He’s someone who makes you feel comfortable being around.”

The footage abruptly stopped, and the screen seamlessly switched to Xia Xinran—

“My biggest feeling is that I wish I could participate in more shows like this. We got to visit many places I usually wouldn’t go to and made good friends. It’s really hard to have such opportunities with our busy daily work schedules…”

Wait.

Lu Yiyao narrowed his eyes. If he remembered correctly, he praised Ran Lin more than just once. Even if they couldn’t use everything, at least they could have edited a highlight! Keeping only the first sentence was too simple and crude. He felt he spoke more expressively later, with many golden quotes…

“One sentence for each person. Uh, I have to think about it…”

The camera shifted to Ran Lin, who looked as serious as a graduate student in an interview.

Lu Yiyao unconsciously sat up straighter, perking up his ears.

“Gu Jie is always full of energy, making people feel motivated just by looking at him; Zhang Beichen is very gentle and accommodating, making it very easy to get along with him; Xia Xinran has the heart of a child… Lu Yiyao, um, he’s serious, responsible, and committed. He’s very sincere and open-hearted with friends… Yes, he gives off a sense of righteousness…”

Seemingly realizing his commentary was a bit odd, Ran Lin in the camera couldn’t help but chuckle.

In front of the TV, Lu Yiyao’s feelings were mixed.

Ran Lin was indeed praising him, and it was evident from his tone and demeanor, very earnestly.

But a sense of righteousness… Where did that impression come from? He’s not Justice Bao*!

*A Chinese politician during the reign of Emperor Renzong in China’s Song Dynasty. During his twenty-five years in civil service, Bao was known for his honesty and uprightness, with actions such as impeaching an uncle of Emperor Renzong’s favorite concubine and punishing powerful families.

As the program neared its end, it began flashing back to all the group photos from the journey.

Cycling in Guilin, watching pandas in Sichuan, building coconut leaf shelters in Sanya, playing in amusement parks in Shanghai, dune bashing in Dubai, modeling in France, encountering elephants in Thailand, witnessing the Northern Lights in Iceland…

The scrolling credits were filled with inspiring quotes, some of which touched Lu Yiyao’s heart—

They were adapting—

They were growing—

They were understanding each other—

They were accommodating each other—

They didn’t encounter another version of themselves in the world—

But these interesting companions with diverse characters—

Created a colorful world amidst laughter and tears…

“Should I ask about it on Weibo?” As the program ended and the TV returned to the on-demand interface, Lu Yiyao switched between WeChat and Weibo, undecided.

A month ago, he asked about a brand advertisement in his comment, but it sank without a trace, receiving no reply from Ran Lin.

Busy with work, he had almost forgotten about it, but watching the final episode just now brought back the memory.

It wasn’t a big deal, but for Lu Yiyao, it felt like an unresolved issue. So, whenever he thought about it, he would ponder for a few minutes.

“Li Tong…” Lu Yiyao called his assistant, who was packing in the guest room.

Today was the last day of Yao Hong’s 24-hour surveillance order. Given Lu Yiyao’s good performance over the past month, showing no signs of a second fainting incident, assistant Li Tong, the supervisor, could finally step down.

Hearing the call, the young assistant dashed out. “Lu Ge, what’s up?”

Lu Yiyao thought for a moment and asked, “If you were a star with a million fans, and another star left a comment on your Weibo, would you see it?”

Assistant Li was no stranger to playing the role of a social media celebrity. He confidently answered this hypothetical scenario. “You should be able to see it because usually fans will push the celebrity’s comment to the top, making it the hottest comment. So as long as they enter their own Weibo homepage and click on the comments under that post, they will see it at first glance.”

“What if they don’t enter their own Weibo but just check the latest messages directly on the app’s homepage?”

“Then all comments are sorted by update time indiscriminately, and yours would definitely be drowned in tens of thousands of other comments.”

“Makes sense. Alright, continue packing.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything, Lu Ge.”

Watching Li Tong disappear behind the guest room door, Lu Yiyao belatedly realized…

[Your comment would definitely be drowned in tens of thousands of other comments.]

Your comment?

How did the assistant know he was the one wanting to leave a comment? Couldn’t he be the one receiving the comment?

Ding-dong—

The intercom at the entrance suddenly rang, signaling a visitor waiting downstairs to be let into the building.

Lu Yiyao rarely had visitors at his home, except for Yao Hong.

But due to Lu Yiyao’s personal habits, Yao Hong rarely came over directly unless there was something important.

As he was wondering, Li Tong had already sprinted to the intercom. Without waiting to answer, he turned to Lu Yiyao and reported, “It’s Hong Jie.”

As expected.

Lu Yiyao felt reassured, and Li Tong had already answered the call and opened the door for Yao Hong.

Soon, there was a knock on the door. Li Tong, who was guarding the entrance, immediately opened it. Yao Hong nodded at him, changed into slippers, and entered the living room. Without even sitting down, she stated her purpose. “The cast list for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> has been drafted. I’ve brought it for you to see.”

Lu Yiyao looked at his agent, who had rushed over, a bit puzzled. “You could have just sent it to my phone. There was no need to make a special trip.”

Yao Hong didn’t respond but instead hurriedly took out the A4 paper with the provisional cast list from her bag and handed it to Lu Yiyao. “Just take a look.”

Lu Yiyao took the list, somewhat clueless. The first thing he saw was his own name, and below his name, playing the role of Fang Xian…

“Yu Dong? He’s playing Fang Xian?” Lu Yiyao was genuinely surprised this time, looking at Yao Hong as if to confirm the truth of this information.

Yu Dong was a few years older than him and had become famous quite early. He was now a solid movie actor and rarely filmed TV dramas, let alone a double male lead drama.

A double male lead, to put it nicely, has two protagonists, but where there is a main plot, there is inevitably a focus. Take <Sword of Fallen Flowers> as an example. The so-called double male lead means that the roles of Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian are roughly equal in status, with roughly equal screen time. But ultimately, the story revolves around Tang Jingyu, starting with the destruction of the Tang Clan, and ending with Tang Jingyu giving up on revenge and retiring from the martial world. From beginning to end, Tang Jingyu is the soul that drives the story forward. No matter how significant Fang Xian’s role is, the inherent “protagonist feel” of the story remains indelible.

Yu Dong being willing to share the “male lead” title with him and being the slightly lesser of the two double leads was incredible.

“There’s no need to overreact. If Chen Qizheng and Song Mang can come down from the big screen, so can Yu Dong. Filming movies isn’t as profitable as TV dramas. Wanting both prestige and real money, these movie-level TV dramas are truly rare.”

“But Yu Dong is more famous than me.”

“But his popularity isn’t as high as yours.”

Lu Yiyao had no reply.

In an era where ratings reign supreme, whoever brings in the viewership is the boss. It’s both very realistic and very harsh.

He understood this principle, but he was just a bit worried about the future cooperation.

He had dealt with Yu Dong a few times. Yu Dong was talented but proud. He didn’t seem like someone who would willingly share the double male lead role with him.

Lu Yiyao wasn’t overly committed to the art of acting, but he hoped for a harmonious relationship with his work partners.

Seeing Lu Yiyao’s thoughts drifting further away, Yao Hong sighed helplessly.

Yu Dong wasn’t the point.

“Forget about Yu Dong and look further down.” Finally losing patience, Yao Hong spoke to bring Lu Yiyao back from his daydreaming.

Below Fang Xian was Xu Chongfei.

And the actor for Xu Chongfei… Ran Lin?!

Lu Yiyao suddenly looked up, his eyes widening at Yao Hong, much larger than when he saw Yu Dong’s name.

Yao Hong was satisfied with his reaction, smiling faintly. “Surprised, aren’t you?”

Of course, he was surprised.

But in that shock… there was also a bit of happiness?

Yao Hong waited for her artist to express his opinion. Left waiting, she only saw a dumbfounded, surprised face and was speechless. “Why don’t you speak?”

Lu Yiyao blinked, coming back to his senses, and said with emotion, “This is really…”

Yao Hong waited with bated breath.

“…Life is full of unexpected encounters.”

Yao Hong almost choked.

Whether happy or disgusted, there should be a clear attitude. This kind of philosophical exclamation was just absurd.

“What do you really think?” Yao Hong stopped guessing and asked directly. “This is not the final list, which means, apart from Yu Dong, if you think anyone else is inappropriate, you can bring it up. There’s room for negotiation with the production team.”

Lu Yiyao froze at her words.

Yao Hong was asking him what he thought, and he wanted to ask the same question. “Hong Jie, what do you mean by that?”

Yao Hong calmly observed Lu Yiyao’s expression, and after a long while, she finally accepted the reality—her artist was genuinely asking, and he had no issue with the draft list.

No, he even hesitated about collaborating with Yu Dong in the future, but faced with Ran Lin’s name, he was as warm as spring.

Even someone as good-natured as Yao Hong wanted to crack open her artist’s head to see what was inside.

“We’ve always been straightforward with each other, and today is no exception.” Yao Hong sighed, trying to keep her tone gentle, like she was negotiating. “I think it’s best not to act with Ran Lin.”

Lu Yiyao’s expression turned serious. He pursed his lips and was silent, but his slightly furrowed brows indicated he was listening carefully.

Yao Hong continued, “Ran Lin previously used you for publicity and clout-chasing, there’s no doubt about that. Including his participation in the reality show later, wasn’t it also to continue the hype? Yes, the show later changed its style to brotherly love, and his team stopped the hype, but whether you and Ran Lin are marketed as CPs or good brothers, you’ve already appeared together too many times. If you work together on a TV drama, even if his team doesn’t intend to bind you, you two will inevitably be linked together in and out of the show. The production team, audience, and media will tie you together. For Ran Lin, being seen as friends or even an on-screen CP is great, but this type of audience perception doesn’t help your career much.”

Lu Yiyao pondered for a long while, then squinted slightly. “You mean Ran Lin wants to be in this drama because of me, just like the variety show?”

Yao Hong shook her head, objectively analyzing. “This kind of opportunity, even without you, he would definitely want. But with you, it’s even better. Who wouldn’t want more benefits?”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, lowering his gaze, deep in thought.

Yao Hong patiently waited, believing that Lu Yiyao would understand the pros and cons. A male-male CP is a double-edged sword. It attracts fans quickly, but the risk is high. If something goes wrong with one of them, the other has nowhere to turn. Given Lu Yiyao’s current resources and prospects for development, there was no need for him to wade into these murky waters.

The living room fell into a subtle silence.

Fortunately, the afternoon sun was bright enough, and the breeze continued to flutter the curtains, preventing the atmosphere from becoming too awkward.

Li Tong, originally planning to fetch water, sensed the serious tone of the conversation and wisely retreated into the guest room, continuing to struggle with his luggage.

After some time, Lu Yiyao finally looked up and said, “Hong Jie, I remember you saying that Director Chen is very strict about acting. Since he has chosen Ran Lin for the third male lead, it must be a recognition of Ran Lin’s acting skills rather than just the potential to generate hype with me as the lead.”

Yao Hong didn’t expect that, after so much thought, Lu Yiyao would end up defending Ran Lin, and she became a bit anxious. “If someone has good acting skills and can also create buzz, no director will refuse them. The objective situation is clear. You and Ran Lin are like two buckets of water at different levels. Your level is high, his is low. As long as there’s a connection between you, whether it’s in variety shows, dramas, or anything else, it will always be your water flowing towards him. Do you understand?”

“So, replacing him with someone else means they won’t ride on my popularity?” Lu Yiyao felt his agent was stuck in a logical fallacy. “Think about it, Hong Jie. Before I knew Ran Lin, did the actresses I worked with refrain from creating hype? According to your bucket theory, does it mean I can’t work with anyone who has less popularity than me?”

Yao Hong was speechless.

Lu Yiyao sighed lightly, trying to soften his tone, knowing Yao Hong meant well. He didn’t want her to feel like they were arguing, but he wanted to express his true thoughts. “Hong Jie, Ran Lin earned this role himself. Given his status, it must not have been easy for him to get this role. If I just dismiss it with one word, it’s not what friends do.”

Yao Hong looked at her artist, saying meaningfully, “If he considered you a friend, you wouldn’t have found out about his participation from the preliminary list.”

“Maybe he didn’t expect to pass the audition.” Lu Yiyao tried to find a reasonable explanation.

Yao Hong shook her head with a “you’re too naive” expression of resignation. “With Wang Xi’s capabilities, she would have gotten the preliminary list even earlier than us. If, as you say, Ran Lin was afraid of not passing the audition, now that it’s over, why hasn’t he informed you?”

“He has no obligation to inform me…” Lu Yiyao was still defending Ran Lin.

“But you said you’re friends.” Yao Hong felt like asking Ran Lin for the formula for a memory-erasing potion.

Lu Yiyao fell silent.

Just as Yao Hong thought he had finally seen reason, he suddenly shook his head gently.

It was light, slow, but firm.

“Hong Jie, if the production team and director reject Ran Lin for other reasons, I won’t interfere. But on my part, I won’t harm him. If you insist on telling the production team that I don’t want Ran Lin to play this role…” Lu Yiyao spoke slowly but forcefully. “I will really be angry.”

For the first time in her life, Yao Hong was threatened by her own artist.

And with the tactic of “I will be angry”, something a kindergarten child would use.

And yet, Yao Hong was swayed by it.

That’s why they say spoiling a child is a disease, and it’s incurable.

“Fine. I’ve said what I had to, whether it should be said or not. If you get taken advantage of again later, don’t complain.”

“Okay.” Lu Yiyao smiled. “I’ll just shake it off.”

Yao Hong rolled her eyes at him, wondering how much pleasure Lu Yiyao derived from persuading her, as now his eyes and eyebrows were full of joy.

Having reached this point, what more could Yao Hong say? She could only look ahead. “In at most half a month, the final script and contract will be sent to us.”

Lu Yiyao said, “Filming starts in September. Time is indeed tight.”

“No choice. I heard the investors have various modification suggestions. Song Mang is going crazy,” Yao Hong said. “But the location and start date are set, and all the actors’ schedules have been coordinated according to the shooting time. The investors probably have a sense of this, so they won’t be too unreasonable.”

Having moved past the issue with Ran Lin, Yao Hong and her artist’s conversation became more relaxed. But there wasn’t much left to talk about. After discussing various trivial matters, Yao Hong stood up to leave.

After seeing Yao Hong off, Lu Yiyao was far from calm.

Despite his assertive and clear stance while talking to Yao Hong, contemplating the matter of “Why didn’t Ran Lin inform him” was quite tormenting.

And the more he thought about it, the more uncertain he became, the more guilty he felt, the more chaotic his thoughts, the more his mind was filled with Yao Hong’s hypothetical “If he really considered you a friend.”

The most annoying thing in the world is ‘if’.

It gives you many answers but never marks the correct one.

Then just go and ask directly.

After sitting on the sofa in the living room and thinking for ten minutes, Lu Yiyao decided to adopt a straightforward approach.

Feeling inexplicably nervous, Lu Yiyao dialed Ran Lin’s number for the first time.

After a musical interlude, the call was answered on the other side.

“Hello.”

Ran Lin’s voice was polite and courteous, and maybe it was an illusion, but it sounded a bit… soft and mellow?

“Cough,” Lu Yiyao cleared his throat before saying. “Hello.”

There was a pause on the other end, then the question, “Who is this?”

Lu Yiyao was speechless, his budding brotherly feelings cooling down considerably. “You didn’t see the caller ID?”

After a few seconds of silence on the other end, the tone suddenly rose. “Lu Yiyao?!”

Lu Yiyao held his forehead. Why did the voice on the other end sound not so joyful but a little… scared?

“Why are you calling me?” Ran Lin, having confirmed the caller’s identity, finally spoke clearly. “I just ordered a meal. I thought it was the delivery.”

The fear was gone—Lu Yiyao was relieved.

The softness was gone too—Lu Yiyao felt a bit disappointed.

The meal delivery… Lu Yiyao endured.

“I’m calling to congratulate you.” Lu Yiyao didn’t beat around the bush. “<Sword of Fallen Flowers>.”

“How did you know I auditioned for this drama?” The voice on the other end of the phone was filled with surprise, seemingly genuine. “But it’s not certain yet. You know, the competition for this drama was fierce. Xi Jie said the chances were slim, and just getting familiar with the director and making an impression was good enough.”

Lu Yiyao frowned, feeling that something was off and not just one thing.

Ran Lin: “Hello?”

Lu Yiyao: “You didn’t know you passed the audition?”

Ran Lin: “… Really?!”

Lu Yiyao: “You didn’t know?”

Ran Lin: “Xi Jie didn’t tell me. Could it be that she hasn’t received the news yet?”

Lu Yiyao: “Impossible, the preliminary cast list is already out. If nothing goes wrong, you’ll be Xu Chongfei.”

Ran Lin: “I need to process this. The happiness came too suddenly… Wait, how did you know about my audition?”

Lu Yiyao: “The preliminary list would, of course, be sent to me as well.”

Ran Lin: “Why would it be sent to you?”

Lu Yiyao: “I need to know who my co-stars are.”

Ran Lin: “…”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

Then—

“You are the male lead in this drama?!”

Lu Yiyao sighed almost inaudibly. He had a feeling something was odd.

First, Ran Lin didn’t even know he had passed the audition.

Second, Ran Lin also didn’t know that he, Lu Yiyao, was the male lead of this drama.

Third, now the situation was awkward. What should he do?

“That’s great, we can act together!”

“…Yes, that’s what I called to tell you!”

Ran Lin must be an angel!

“What about Zhang Beichen? Did he make it?” The voice on the other end excitedly asked.

Lu Yiyao was confused. “Zhang Beichen?”

Ran Lin: “Yes, we auditioned on the same day. His role is Fang Xian. Did he pass?”

Lu Yiyao understood and said with a bit of regret, “On the preliminary list, Fang Xian is Yu Dong.”

There was silence on Ran Lin’s end.

Both understood that with Fang Xian being fixed as Yu Dong had nothing to do with the audition results. Yu Dong probably didn’t even audition, simply using his status to overshadow other contenders.

Regardless, getting the role of Xu Chongfei was an absolute joy for Ran Lin. He was too occupied to talk more with Lu Yiyao. “I have to call my agent right away. She’s also been waiting for the news. Can we talk later?”

Lu Yiyao wanted to say his agent probably already knew, but on second thought, this assumption was just something Yao Hong had mentioned without solid proof. If Ran Lin’s agent really knew, it made no sense for Ran Lin to be completely clueless.

“Hello?” Ran Lin sadly realized that Lu Yiyao’s wandering mind wasn’t limited to face-to-face interactions but also manifested during phone calls.

“Ah, okay, you go and contact your agent. See you later.”

After hanging up, Lu Yiyao spent a long time pondering why he had made the call and what he had said.

His mind had been blank since the end of the call.

The only thought left floating in the emptiness was—Ran Lin is poisonous, extremely poisonous.

Lu Yiyao, in his luxurious apartment, contemplated life, while Ran Lin, in his small apartment, was overjoyed.

A pie had fallen from the sky, landing right on his head. His happiness was indescribable.

“Xi Jie, I got the role of Xu Chongfei!” As soon as the call connected, Ran Lin couldn’t wait to share the news.

Wang Xi was startled, instinctively asking, “How did you know?”

Ran Lin, not thinking much of it, assumed Wang Xi had just received the news. With multiple sources confirming, the reality seemed more tangible. “So it’s true, I really passed?!”

“Yes.” Wang Xi went along, not wanting to explain why she hadn’t said anything, but she had to know where Ran Lin got his information. “Who told you?”

Caught up in sharing his joy, it wasn’t until then that Ran Lin’s heated brain started to cool down. But at this point, he could only tell the truth. “Well, Lu Yiyao.”

Wang Xi was shocked by the answer. “Lu Yiyao told you?!”

Ran Lin: “Yes, he just called.”

“What was his attitude?”

“He congratulated me.”

“…I congratulate you too.”

Wang Xi sat in her office chair, suddenly feeling the world was very surreal.

Was Lu Yiyao really just calling to congratulate him?

He should be. Otherwise, he could have secretly sabotaged Ran Lin without anyone knowing. Why bother calling to say all this?

But if he genuinely congratulated…

Then what had she been fretting over these past few days!

So while she was brainstorming ways to knock on doors and subtly probe Yao Hong for information, Ran Lin had already swiped his way in with the card handed to him by the homeowner!

“When did your relationship with Lu Yiyao get so good…”

“It’s not that great. We just got familiar while filming the variety show…” Ran Lin vaguely replied, quickly changing the subject. “Xi Jie, since you also have the list, do you know what’s going on with Yu Dong? Was he always the choice for Fang Xian?”

Wang Xi had heard a bit about this from her inside sources. She wasn’t too concerned about it, but since Ran Lin asked, she shared what she knew. “I heard Fang Xian was the hardest to decide, as the character has extreme psychological conflicts. From the beginning, investors and the director didn’t have a unified preference. After several auditions, although none completely satisfied the director, the general consensus leaned towards Zhang Beichen…”

“Then Yu Dong…”

“Came out of nowhere at the last minute. He didn’t audition, just directly replaced Zhang Beichen. Yu Dong’s acting is well-known, and his status is evident. He’s more than qualified for Tang Jingyu, let alone Fang Xian. Investors would be delighted.”

After finishing, Wang Xi sighed. “Fortunately, he set his sights on Fang Xian, not Xu Chongfei. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had a chance.”

Ran Lin was still feeling sorry for Zhang Beichen, not quite catching Wang Xi’s words.

Thinking Ran Lin was scared by her words, Wang Xi quickly added, “Of course, he wouldn’t compete with you for the third male lead. Double male lead is already his bottom line.”

The imagined difficulties never arose, and things went even smoother than expected. Wang Xi, pleasantly surprised, didn’t know what to say, leaving only advice to cherish the opportunity and study the role carefully.

But on these two matters, Ran Lin had already given his 101%.

What Wang Xi said afterward didn’t really sink in for Ran Lin, as he had begun to retrospectively reflect, after calming down, on whether he had been too enthusiastic on the phone with Lu Yiyao.

If he remembered correctly, he seemed to have said, “That’s great, we can act together!” and his tone was unmistakably excited… Where is your reserve?!

What should he do?

Would Lu Yiyao overthink it?

Would he think Ran Lin was again trying to ride on his popularity?

Or even, discover his secret feelings?!

The more Ran Lin thought about it, the crazier he felt, almost compelled to call back and explain that his excitement was purely due to passing the audition and had nothing to do with acting alongside Lu Yiyao… Yeah, Lu Yiyao would definitely think he was a patient.

But then again, he was genuinely happy.

Just thinking about passing the audition brought a sense of elation and clarity to his heart.

Thinking about acting with Lu Yiyao made his heart slowly contract and then ooze honey from its crevices.

On a whim, Ran Lin opened his WeChat Moments, found that comment he had deliberately ignored, and mischievously replied, a month later—Miya Men’s Shampoo, all-natural, silicone-free, refreshing anti-dandruff, bringing back your vibrant youth.

……

“Lu Ge, I’m leaving now.” Li Tong, pulling his suitcase, stood at the entrance, looking back three steps at a time. “Take care of yourself. Don’t always stay up late in the media room.”

“Got it.” Lu Yiyao responded with a smile, feeling like he was seeing a male version of Yao Hong.

Li Tong waved and left with his suitcase.

On the way back to his rental, Li Tong recalled his month-long cohabitation experience with Lu Yiyao, his gossip heart surging, but with no one to confide in. He took out his phone and drafted a venting private message to a certain “confession” Weibo account. But after writing it, he felt it revealed too much of his boss’s privacy. Plus, perhaps because he typed each word so carefully, by the time he finished, his urge to vent seemed to have subsided, so he deleted the long message word by word—

[Hi XX Confession. I’m an assistant to a celebrity, the kind who carries bags and runs errands. My boss is a very famous male celebrity. He’s a really nice person, never puts on airs, and treats us staff with respect. But, I really think he’s a bit abnormal. First, he hangs up his drama photos all over the house—ancient and modern, close-ups and long shots, half-body, full-body, front, side, backlit, against the light—you name it. I feel like the whole room is staring at me. Second, he likes listening to vinyl records. Yes, the kind that only appears in movies—feels so retro. Third, he didn’t use his phone much before, but recently he’s become obsessed with it, always pulling out his phone to check something, then mumbling to himself. It’s really weird. Honestly, I really like this job, and I like my boss too. A kind and approachable boss is really hard to come by these days, but the longer I work with him, the more I feel…]

At the same time, in Lu Yiyao’s apartment.

The freshly showered mainland star picked up his phone for his daily check and unexpectedly saw new information in his WeChat Moments!

[Miya Men’s Shampoo, all-natural, silicone-free, refreshing anti-dandruff, bringing back your vibrant youth.]

No matter how Lu Yiyao looked at it, the last part of the slogan seemed awkward, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the manufacturer or Ran Lin’s own creation.

There was a sense of “If you don’t use this shampoo, just wait to age” in the curse.

But receiving a reply from Ran Lin was still comforting.

Lifting his phone, the mainland star talked to himself as usual, facing his friend’s profile picture. “You should check your Moments more often. Once a month is too infrequent…”


Kinky Thoughts:

Oh Yao Hong, if you pry open his brain to look inside, you’ll probably have a heart attack considering he’s about to get bent.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch33

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 33

Ran Lin didn’t see the reply until the second day and, after some thought, ultimately chose not to respond. In case he started talking to Lu Yiyao again, the feelings he had finally suppressed would definitely reignite. He would be the one suffering in the end, with no one to turn to.

Besides, a night had already passed. Whether he replied or not, he guessed the other person wouldn’t care much.

With this thought, Ran Lin felt refreshed and picked up the script again, immersing himself in the troubled inner world of Xu Chongfei.

Ran Lin secluded himself for three days. When Wang Xi came to pick him up, she was startled by Ran Lin’s dark circles and almost wanted to scold him.

“Lucky I came two hours early. If I had let you go like this, you should just play a corpse instead of a hero!”

In the nanny van, Ran Lin sat still for the makeup artist to work on him while obediently listening to his agent’s scolding.

The makeup artist, following Wang Xi’s instructions, applied light makeup, mainly to cover the dark circles, aiming for a natural look. As the makeup artist was finishing and Wang Xi’s rant was coming to an end, she finally calmed down and asked about the main issue. “How well have you grasped the character?”

“Don’t worry, Xi Jie,” Ran Lin confidently responded.

Wang Xi, rarely seeing Ran Lin so confident, asked with a hint of surprise, “Do you have a secret weapon?”

Ran Lin innocently looked at her. “What?”

Wang Xi, frustrated, asked, “Where’s your confidence coming from?”

“Didn’t you say to give 200% even if there’s only a 1% chance? I can’t control the probability of the opportunity, but 200%…” Ran Lin blinked slightly. “I think I can do it.”

Wang Xi narrowed her eyes, suddenly feeling that today’s Ran Lin seemed a bit unfamiliar, especially his eyes, which shone with unprecedented handsomeness.

Shaking her head to dispel the unrealistic illusion, Wang Xi thought it must be because she was too hopeful for Ran Lin to perform well today, unconsciously viewing him through an agent’s lens.

The audition was in a conference room of a star-rated hotel near the North Third Ring. According to Wang Xi, the main filming base in Hengdian had started setting up. Director Chen was very strict and supervised everything. He had specially taken a week off to return to Beijing to see the last group of actors audition. This round of auditions would decide everything, as per the investors’ strict rule for the director.

Wang Xi had her sources of information, and Ran Lin just needed to listen and remember.

“Oh right, you might meet Zhang Beichen later,” Wang Xi suddenly said on the way to the hotel.

Ran Lin, unprepared, asked foolishly, “Is he also auditioning for the third male lead?”

Wang Xi looked at him disdainfully. “What are you thinking? Of course, he’s the male lead. Have you ever seen someone who has played several leading roles go back to playing a third male lead?”

Ran Lin’s heart finally settled. Healthy competition, relying on one’s own abilities, he wasn’t afraid, but if possible, he still didn’t want to compete with friends.

But…

“Do the lead roles also need to audition for this drama?” Ran Lin was a bit surprised. Usually, for big productions, the male lead is chosen after considering various factors, and auditions aren’t that important—even the director has to consider the wishes of investors and the market.

Wang Xi explained. “Tang Jingyu doesn’t need to audition. The production team will decide personally. There’s still room for discussion for Fang Xian, so many people want to compete for it.”

As expected.

Ran Lin steadied himself, went through the audition script he knew by heart in his mind, and then realized that the third scene was a confrontation between Xu Chongfei and Fang Xian. He asked again, “Will Zhang Beichen act with me?”

Seeing Ran Lin finally catch on, Wang Xi didn’t hide it. “Possibly.”

Ran Lin complained a bit, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“If I wasn’t afraid you’d be too surprised later and make a mistake, I wouldn’t have told you now,” Wang Xi said in a low voice, looking deeply into Ran Lin’s eyes. “Remember, what you need to do is focus on performing well, regardless of who you act with.”

Ran Lin calmed down oddly and nodded firmly.

Wang Xi sat back down and asked the driver, “How much longer?”

“About ten minutes,” the driver replied.

Wang Xi nodded, thought for a moment, then turned back to Ran Lin. “Since we still have time, tell me about your understanding of the character. The director will probably ask later.”

Ran Lin swallowed and, after a long pause, slowly shook his head.

Wang Xi was surprised. “Can’t do it?”

Ran Lin honestly confessed. “Yeah, can’t do it. If I talk about it, I’ll definitely cry, and the makeup will be ruined.”

Wang Xi had read the script and knew Xu Chongfei was indeed tragic, but she wondered. “Aren’t you getting into character too fast?”

Ran Lin lowered his eyes and, after a moment, looked up again with a burning gaze, as if it was no longer the semi-famous Ran Lin in his body but the noble and righteous young master of the Hidden Sword Tower. “I haven’t come out of it for these three days.”

Ran Lin was crazy.

Wang Xi didn’t know if this was good or bad, as she had never managed an actor so absorbed in their role. Liu Wanwan, however, was fascinated. The immersed Ran Lin’s handsomeness soared.

The car stopped at the hotel’s entrance. Ran Lin got out first, followed by Wang Xi and Liu Wanwan.

Today, Ran Lin wore a light camel-colored wool coat, looking clean, fresh, and maturely steady. Wang Xi dressed more soberly than usual, abandoning her favorite red, opting for black and white—sharp but not too eye-catching. Liu Wanwan was as plain as ever, following behind, carrying things.

The hotel corridor was carpeted and quiet. Approaching the conference room, they could faintly hear the sound of lines being recited inside.

Wang Xi stopped two meters away from the conference room door, signaling Ran Lin and Liu Wanwan to stop as well, and then took out her phone to make a call.

Soon, a girl in her late twenties appeared from inside. She had short hair, glasses, a sweatshirt, and jeans, and held a somewhat crumpled A4 paper that seemed to have a list printed on it.

The girl smiled upon seeing Wang Xi and then spoke in a low voice. “Are you here for the audition?”

Wang Xi nodded and whispered, “Ran Lin, scheduled for 10:30.”

The girl checked the list, quickly found Ran Lin’s name, and told Wang Xi. “Wait at the door for a while. I’ll call you when it’s over inside.”

Wang Xi nodded politely and watched the girl return to the conference room.

The heavy solid wood door closed again, and Wang Xi made a playful face at Ran Lin. Wang Xi rarely made such an expression, usually meaning she was helplessly amused and couldn’t get angry.

Ran Lin smiled, not minding it. Why does everyone in the circle want to be famous? Because fame means you might not need to audition, or even if you do, you don’t have to wait. Fame is like a green light in the industry. Take this movie, for example; there are people like him who desperately fight for a chance to audition, and there are those who sit at home and get handpicked by investors to be the lead.

Ran Lin envied this but was calm about it. Two months ago, he didn’t even have the chance to audition.

After waiting for about twenty minutes, the conference room door opened again. An actor about Ran Lin’s age came out with his agent. Ran Lin didn’t recognize him but had seen him on TV. However, he didn’t look as good in person as on TV, and his dejected expression now made him even less impressive.

Wang Xi and the other agent weren’t familiar, they just nodded to each other, and then the agent led his actor away. Before they got far, the girl from before stuck her head out of the door and said softly, “You can go in now.”

Wang Xi asked Liu Wanwan to wait at the door and patted Ran Lin on the shoulder, leading him into the conference room.

The conference room was large, and the table had been moved aside, leaving only a camera set up in the middle of the cleared space, apparently to record the auditions of all the actors.

Chen Qizheng, Song Mang, and a few others Ran Lin didn’t recognize sat in a row behind the table. From the moment Ran Lin entered, their gaze was fixed on him.

Director Chen Qizheng was around forty. He had a square face, a crew cut, and an unremarkable appearance. He wore a drab gray coat and sat in the middle of the row, inconspicuous, but if you looked into his eyes, you’d feel pressured.

By contrast, the screenwriter Song Mang was much more approachable. Probably because he was younger, around thirty, wearing black-framed glasses. Among the group, he was the most brightly dressed yet tastefully so, both stylish and energetic.

Song Mang’s world of martial arts in his scripts had the vitality of youth but also the depth of traditional martial arts. Ran Lin could see the vitality, but it was hard to associate the depth with such a person.

Perhaps this is the magic of screenwriters.

Wang Xi looked at Ran Lin, who was lost in thought, and helplessly pinched him from behind. Ran Lin reacted to the pain and immediately went forward to greet respectfully. “Hello, Director Chen, Screenwriter Song. I am Ran Lin, auditioning for the role of Xu Chongfei.”

Wang Xi sighed. Couldn’t you say a few flattering words?

Director Chen Qizheng had no expression, as if Ran Lin’s enthusiasm or lack thereof wouldn’t affect his stern face.

Song Mang still politely smiled, then said, “We have limited time. Let’s start.”

Wang Xi began to feel nervous. She had taken artists to auditions before, and usually, directors would give some face and make small talk. She had never encountered someone as stern as Chen Qizheng. Overall, she had a bad feeling.

Ran Lin saw Wang Xi step aside, clearing the middle space, and without wasting words, took off his woolen coat, wearing only the white knitted shirt inside. The white was strange—not pure white but tinged with a bit of blue. In terms of color, it was quite refreshing, but the style was really not outstanding—not ugly, but not particularly good-looking either.

Wang Xi, sitting in a corner chair, regretted not having Ran Lin change his shirt. Ran Lin, standing in the center, faced the director and screenwriter, but his eyes were not on them. Instead, he stared at the empty space in front of him as if a true brother was standing there.

Time passed by. The conference room was silent, except for the camera on the tripod. Ran Lin didn’t make any movement, just stared at the “brother” in front of him, his eyes slowly reddening.

“Tang Jingyu.” Ran Lin finally spoke, his voice suppressed with almost unbearable pain. “Fang Xian is our brother. We’ve exchanged hearts and lives. Didn’t you feel even a bit of hesitation when you used him?”

In the large conference room, no one responded, but the air seemed to turn bitter with “Xu Chongfei’s” questioning.

But Ran Lin could see and hear. He could see the wavering in the eyes of the “Tang Jingyu” opposite him, but he could also hear his cold words: No. It’s a blood feud, irreconcilable.

As soon as those words fell, Ran Lin raised his voice. “What does that have to do with Fang Xian? He always treated you as a brother!”

Tang Jing Yu: He is the son of Fang Huanzhi, so he is related.

“Tang Jingyu, you’re crazy. You are obsessed now; do you know that? Fine, if you want to kill Fang Xian, then kill me first!”

“Stop—” Director Chen Qizheng, who hadn’t said a word since entering, suddenly called cut.

Ran Lin’s chest heaved wildly, still not out of the intense emotions, and looked at the director with unsteady breathing and confusion. Song Mang also seemed puzzled, but his face didn’t show it.

Chen Qizheng didn’t explain. Just wrote a few words on some paper, then directly said to Ran Lin, “Next scene.”

The next scene was about being hurt by love. Completely different emotions from angrily questioning Tang Jingyu.

Ran Lin turned his back, breathing deeply, trying to adjust while comforting the tragic character Xu Chongfei in his mind.

Turning back to face the director, no, his partner, Ran Lin watched as “Tang Jingyu” slowly disappeared, and in a daze, a quirky, smiling girl, “Li’er”, a cute little thief he admired, became clear. She was the girl he liked.

Now, that girl put on an unfeeling face, wanting him to give up, so she said the cruelest things. She said: Xu Chongfei, I don’t like you. I already have someone I love.

Ran Lin looked blank, his lips slightly moving, as if he had something to say but didn’t know how to start. After a long time, he slowly said, “Tell me his name. Tell me, and I will give up.”

There was no resentment, no anger—only a magnanimous calmness, but a barely restrained hint of sadness.

Li’er: I can’t tell you, nor will I let you find him.

“Xu Chongfei” gave a bitter smile, his confusion turning into helplessness, and the atmosphere of sadness surged suddenly. “What kind of person do you think I am? If you really like him and think being with him makes you happier, I am willing to let you go.”

Li’er: You’re lying.

“Xu Chongfei” still smiled, but in his smile, in his eyes, there was an indissoluble love and sorrow. “I’m not lying to you, Li’er. I never knew what liking someone was from a young age. It was you who taught me that feeling. So now I also tell you, what I, Xu Chongfei, love is for your happiness. I will do anything that makes you happy, including letting you go.”

Li’er: So you’re really letting me go?

“Xu Chongfei” took a deep breath, gazing at the stars in the sky, as if his beloved girl was about to become one of those twinkling, yet distant stars.

Li’er didn’t speak and turned to leave.

“Xu Chongfei” suddenly called out to her. “Can I ask one last question?”

Li’er stopped, and after a long time, slowly turned halfway around.

“Xu Chongfei”, looking at her from a distance, spoke under the starry sky in a clear and bright voice. “You always tell me to let you go, but I have never restrained you. Have you ever thought, the one who really doesn’t want to let go of you, is not me, but your own heart?”

“Stop—”

Director Chen Qizheng spoke again, but this time, he waited until Ran Lin had finished all the lines of the scene.

Ran Lin stood in the middle, not looking at the director, only lowering his head, reorganizing his emotions. The next scene was the last words before death, without the anger of the first scene, without the deep affection of the second, only carrying the calmness in the face of death and good wishes for his brother.

Ah, this character is a saint.

“Let him come in,” Director Chen Qizheng suddenly said something seemingly unrelated.

Ran Lin looked up in confusion and saw Chen Qizheng speaking to the young girl who had notified them to come in. The girl, upon receiving the order, quickly went out and soon brought in someone who was supposed to audition half an hour later.

First came Agent Wu Xuefeng. Ran Lin always felt he had gained more weight. Then came Zhang Beichen.

Their eyes met, Ran Lin felt a bit awkward, but Zhang Bei Chen smiled naturally at him, obviously knowing he was auditioning. Zhang Beichen’s smile made Ran Lin’s awkwardness disappear, as if they were back to the times of shooting reality shows, naturally returning a smile to his partner.

Zhang Beichen and Wu Xuefeng also politely greeted the director and screenwriter. The screenwriter was as amiable as ever, the director as cold-faced as always.

‘So it’s not about fame,’ Ran Lin thought. ‘The lack of smiles must be Director Chen’s personal style.’

“Ran Lin… right,” Director Chen Qi Zheng suddenly said.

Ran Lin quickly nodded. “Yes, Director Chen, what can I do for you?”

Director Chen Qizheng glanced at him briefly, then looked back down at the script and said, “For the third scene, try it with Zhang Beichen. He’s playing Fang Xian.”

Ran Lin blinked in surprise and then softly agreed. “Okay.”

Zhang Beichen, without a word, took off his coat and decisively joined in.

Zhang Beichen wore a well-tailored shirt under his coat, with rolled-up sleeves, clean-cut, and handsome, with less youthful naivety and more of an elite vibe.

Ran Lin glanced at him.

Zhang Beichen understood, immediately knelt on one knee, extending his arm.

Ran Lin hesitated no longer and fell into the “friend’s” arms with a slap.

When two familiar people act together, it’s easy to break into laughter, especially in such a life-and-death parting. Ran Lin looked up into Zhang Beichen’s eyes and always felt there was a hint of laughter in them. Maybe Zhang Beichen wasn’t really smiling—it was just his own overthinking. But Ran Lin couldn’t control it.

Taking a deep breath, Ran Lin moved his gaze from Zhang Beichen’s eyes to the tip of his nose. From the perspective of others, even on camera, it would seem he was staring into the other’s eyes. So as long as his emotions were in place, there shouldn’t be any problem.

“Chongfei—” Zhang Beichen hugged him, suddenly shouting, his voice full of the sorrow of a friend’s impending departure.

The dying person, Ran Lin, made his voice weak and breathless. “I, I’m fine…”

“Stop!”

Zhang Beichen’s body shook, and the arm holding Ran Lin trembled.

Ran Lin quickly propped himself up with one hand.

Both of them stood up and looked at the director nervously, like two elementary school students facing their teacher.

Director Chen Qizheng stared at Ran Lin and said, “Xu Chongfei, I’ll give you one last chance. If you can’t look directly into Fang Xian’s eyes, then there’s no need to perform this scene. Do you understand?”

Director Chen Qizheng’s voice wasn’t loud, but the pressure was overwhelming.

Ran Lin gritted his teeth, held on, not avoiding his gaze, and nodded slowly and firmly.

Director Chen Qizheng threw his pen onto the table with a snap. “Again.”

Lying back in Zhang Beichen’s arms, Ran Lin closed his eyes, quickly discarded all distractions, and when he opened them again, the face above him was still Zhang Beichen, but the image in his mind was Fang Xian…

This time the director didn’t interrupt, watching coldly until the end, then said, “Okay.”

He then stopped looking at them, picked up his pen, and started scribbling on paper again.

Ran Lin was curious about what he was writing, but from his bold and commanding penmanship, he felt that even if he saw it, he might not understand it.

Ran Lin had tried three scenes, but Zhang Beichen only one. Now both stood in the middle, the atmosphere cooling down with the end of the performance. The director, furiously writing, showed no sign of looking up, making the air somewhat awkward.

Screenwriter Song Mang smiled at them and suddenly asked, “Can you talk about your understanding of the characters?”

Ran Lin and Zhang Beichen looked at each other; the latter whispered, “You go first.”

Whether speaking first or last, both had to speak, so Ran Lin didn’t refuse, took a deep breath, raised his head, and said, “Xu Chongfei is a saint.”

Song Mang was stunned.

Wang Xi was dumbfounded.

Even Director Chen Qizheng looked up, his usually deep eyes finally showing a bit of amusement.

Ran Lin continued, “But in the martial world, we need such a saint. He’s filial to his parents, loyal to his friends, and deeply loving to his lover. He, as a person, is the charm of the martial world. His upbringing as the young master of the Hidden Sword Tower has made his soul pure. He doesn’t have Tang Jingyu’s deep-seated hatred, doesn’t have Fang Xian’s inferiority of living in his brother’s shadow. He lives freely, easily, sincerely, and purely. Even when facing deceit and hurt, he can forgive with the greatest tolerance, but he’s not a blind good person. At critical moments, he has clear stances and will protect what he cherishes most with his life…”

“What do you think is the most cherished thing to him?” Song Mang narrowed his eyes, staring intently at Ran Lin.

“Loyalty and righteousness,” Ran Lin answered Song Mang. “Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian also value loyalty, but what they value is the loyalty among brothers and friends. Only Xu Chongfei values the greater righteousness of the world. He is the only one in this martial world who is willing to die for loyalty and righteousness. Therefore, his death can bring about reconciliation between Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian.”

Song Mang quietly looked at him, not speaking, with a smile that seemed to be thinking about something, or perhaps just finding it interesting.

“Uh…” Zhang Beichen hesitated to speak.

Song Mang turned his attention to him and nodded. “Go ahead.”

Zhang Bei Chen cleared his throat. “Fang Xian, in my view, is the most contradictory and pained character in this drama…”

……

After Zhang Beichen finished speaking, Song Mang didn’t ask further, and the director asked Ran Lin and Wang Xi to leave first. Ran Lin didn’t know if Zhang Beichen would have to act against the air like he did, just as he couldn’t see through the director’s cold expression whether it was usual or a sign of rejection.

“Xi Jie, do you think I stand a chance?” On the way back, Ran Lin, increasingly unsure, directly asked Wang Xi.

Unexpectedly, Wang Xi also couldn’t figure it out. “This director is famously idiosyncratic. Who knows what he’s thinking. But—” Wang Xi patted Ran Lin’s head, giving a rare praise. “You performed very well today. You impressed me.”

Ran Lin always felt Wang Xi’s pat on his head was like petting a dog, but hearing the praise, he didn’t mind. “Really? You really think I did well?”

Wang Xi looked at him with a mix of wonder and amusement, uncertain if she was mistaken. “Why are you so different on and off stage? When you act, you really have charm, but as soon as you’re off stage, you become timid again.”

Ran Lin laughed, playfully asking, “So do you like me being bold and imposing on stage, or do you like me being timid like this?”

Wang Xi narrowed her eyes, sizing him up, and corrected unceremoniously, “You weren’t bold and imposing on stage either!”

Ran Lin laughed out loud.

Wang Xi calmed down, thinking that perhaps she should plan Ran Lin’s acting career more seriously.

Liu Wanwan, listening to their conversation, felt a surge of sadness—she had eavesdropped on the whole process from outside, struggling with the door that wouldn’t open a crack. She was the most eager fan to see Ran Lin act!

……

Wang Xi received an “inside” call a month later, right on Labor Day.

“Xu Chongfei is preliminarily set to be Ran Lin. The list will be reported to the investors and the lead male actor this week. If both sides have no issues, it’s settled.”

This “inside” source was developed by Wang Xi through various connections after the audition. They didn’t have the power to make final decisions but could gather some intelligence.

“Really? Out of so many people, they chose Ran Lin?” Despite her expectations, Wang Xi was still incredulous.

“Yes, out of so many, the director chose two for the screenwriter to pick one, and the screenwriter chose Ran Lin.”

“Did they give a reason? Like phenomenal acting or something?”

“Sister, you’re thinking too much. There aren’t that many phenomenal performances.” The voice on the phone chuckled, adding, “But I think I heard him and the director mention something about Xu Chongfei’s favorite clothing color being moonlight white, as written in the script.”

Moonlight white?

Wang Xi couldn’t figure out the significance, and seeing the other side wanting to hang up, she quickly asked another question, “Is the lead male still Lu Yiyao?”

“Yes, it’s been settled for a long time. Unless he changes his mind in the next few days, the contract will be signed soon.”

“Why wait until now to sign the contract?”

“Probably want to see who the other actors are. Even the best scripts, without a solid cast, don’t have much persuasive power.”

“Alright, thank you.”

“Sister, don’t be so formal with me. We’re all on the same team. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay, I’ll treat you to a meal sometime.”

After hanging up, Wang Xi thought for a while, still unsure whether to let Yao Hong know in advance.

It was fine whether it worked out or not, but now it was just one step away from success. If the investors, director, and screenwriter all approved, but the lead male actor vetoed it, she would be frustrated.

Lu Yiyao…

From Wang Xi’s observation, his relationship with Ran Lin seemed quite good after the reality show, but she couldn’t rule out that he and Yao Hong might overthink upon knowing Ran Lin was a candidate for the third male lead. With a history of riding on popularity, if they believed Ran Lin was targeting Lu Yiyao this time too, then Ran Lin would definitely have no chance.

Wang Xi rarely regretted things she had done.

Using Lu Yiyao for hype was one such regret.

Should she let Ran Lin talk to Lu Yiyao? Play the sentiment card?

No, if that kid got impulsive and refused to act just to clear his name, she’d go crazy.

Wang Xi used to have confidence in controlling Ran Lin, but ever since the hotel drama, she began to reassess this artist, feeling that any day, Ran Lin might silently do something earth-shattering.

After much deliberation without a conclusion, Wang Xi, troubled, remembered the moonlight white reference.

Not only did she not understand the screenwriter’s intention, but she also didn’t even recognize the color.

Searching “moonlight white” on her phone, the answer was—a color between blue and white, not light blue, but white with a hint of pale blue.

The knitted shirt Ran Lin wore that day!

Wang Xi realized in her memory.

That shirt really wasn’t particularly attractive, but according to Screenwriter Song Mang, it was the favorite color of the character Ran Lin played—Xu Chongfei.

Opening the phone gallery, she carefully went through the audition scripts from a month ago, scrutinizing until her eyes hurt. Finally, in the character bio, Wang Xi saw that inconspicuous line—

Favoring clothes in moonlight white, just like himself, calm and clear.


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