`Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Shi Yin’s heart skipped a beat.

Her brain began to rapidly replay events: she had been keeping a low profile, tail tucked between her legs, staying so quiet she could vanish into dust—how could she possibly be trending? Could it be that last time, the scene where her assistant pushed three suitcases alone was taken out of context and tagged as “diva behavior”? Or maybe the “hot pot restaurant beating ex-boyfriend” video had been spun into a story by marketing accounts? Surely it wasn’t because that drama couple had a scandal that splashed her with dirt, right? This gossip matured way too fast, and not even a teaser beforehand?!

She steeled herself and shakily opened Weibo, only to see a few strikingly styled trending topics pinned at the end:

#Shi YinHotPotHeroine#

#HeroineDelayedByActingCareer#

#ShePlaysTheCraziestVillainButDoesTheCoolestGoodDeeds#

Shi Yin hesitated before clicking the video with the highest discussion rate—it had been filmed last night at the hot pot restaurant. The passerby’s handheld camera shook slightly, but it perfectly captured those breathtaking, high-stakes seconds.

On screen, first two men argued, faces red with anger, and soon started shoving each other. Suddenly, one turned and bolted straight toward a server holding a scalding hot copper pot, red boiling oil threatening to spill! At that critical moment, a black shadow shot across from the left side of the frame like an arrow released from a bow!

The figure, wearing a baseball cap, a black sun-protective long top, and track pants, moved as lightly as a swallow. Before anyone could clearly see her, she had already leapt forward, her right hand shooting out to grab the offender’s collar. With a tug and a flip, she kneeled, pinning the man firmly to the ground. The entire sequence lasted only two or three seconds—smooth like a meticulously choreographed martial arts scene, yet brimming with real impact.

The video, slightly overexposed from the rapid movement, gave Shi Yin’s face a jade-like glow. When she half-kneelingly rose, eyes half-lidded, casually brushing off her hands, even she, watching the playback, couldn’t help but mutter inwardly—this level of coolness was a little beyond reasonable.

The topic had exploded overnight, and the comment section was already crowded with thousands of remarks, the top comments dominated by exclamation marks:

“Whoa! Sister is so cool, so cool, so cool!”

“Wait, what? She literally ‘whoosh’ flew over there?”

“If you don’t have ten years of training, I don’t believe this. Hidden depths!”

“Does this heroine still need a girlfriend? One who can eat and shout 666!”

“Coach, I want to learn this!”

“Coach: Don’t come near me, I won’t do it either!”

“Now I feel embarrassed to go eat hot pot without any skills.”

“Shouldn’t the main point be that she saved a baby? This isn’t just cool—it’s immense merit! [teary-eyed]”

“Wait… I feel like I’ve seen this heroine sister somewhere before?”

Sharp-eyed fans immediately rallied, waving the recommendation banner: “It’s her! It’s her! My new crush @ShiYinYin, she played Lin Yutong in ‘Saint in the Mist’, beautiful, kind, and professional—joining this fandom won’t disappoint, go follow her!”

Shi Yin scrolled through page after page, the screen filled with “explosively cool”, “absolutely A-level”, “finally novel heroines have a face” kind of praise and astonishment. Of course, a few dissenting comments sneaked in:

“Too fake, the script marks are obvious.”

“Publicity stunt, all the staff are planted, no way could she block the hot pot like that.”

“The passerby reactions are too calm, clearly staged.”

However, these snide remarks were quickly countered by detailed analyses from more attentive netizens: “Fake? Try getting a plant to be splashed by boiling hot pot.” “The guy at the next table even dropped his chopsticks, you call that calm?” “That reaction speed can’t be rehearsed; the haters probably can’t even read the script.”

“Sister Wen, did you buy this trending spot?” Shi Yin asked cautiously, not letting excitement cloud her mind.

“Buy? I wish, but no need,” came Wen Jinhe’s light laugh over the phone. “A few news accounts with millions of followers just retweet casually, and the numbers shoot up instantly. Today happened to be slow for gossip, perfect timing.”

She paused, her tone carrying professional judgment: “Your little ‘see injustice, act’ move here is more effective than paying for marketing. Going viral this positive way is high value, and it even wins some public goodwill.”

At this point, Wen Jinhe’s voice carried a hint of praise: “Looks like those martial arts private lessons weren’t wasted, you really learned something.”

Shi Yin gripped her phone, averting her gaze guiltily: “…”

Martial arts private lessons? Clearly, it was the system reward: [Sanda (Beginner)].

Let us once again sincerely say: thanks, little assistant!

~

Filming continued the next day. This scene was the crucial turning point for Chen Xiang’s character arc. Having developed PTSD from the kidnapping, she completely shut herself off, resisting anyone approaching. To help her regain a sense of security, Chen Shouzhuo decided to personally teach her how to use a gun—not just a skill lesson, but the first step in guiding her from helplessness to control.

In the wide-open shooting range, Shi Yin wore goggles, both hands steadily holding the prop gun. Liang Yicheng stood behind her, giving guidance, the hem of his trench coat brushing over her calves with subtle movements.

The close-up camera pushed from the side, framing the two figures, one in front of the other.

This scene should have been strictly instructional, with no erotic undertones. Yet, when Liang Yicheng covered the back of her hands holding the gun from behind to adjust her shooting stance, Shi Yin’s spine instantly stiffened into a straight line. The unfamiliar warmth through her clothing made her involuntarily break out in goosebumps.

Although Liang Yicheng’s movements were proper and without any overstepping, the sense of discomfort caused by the broken personal space had already stirred a strong resistance inside her.

“Cut.”

As expected, Gu Jizhou called a stop. He looked at Shi Yin, not scolding, but his low voice made his stance clear: “The emotion isn’t right. Let’s do it again.”

“Sorry for holding everyone up.” Shi Yin immediately apologized sincerely to the crew.

She stepped aside, closed her eyes, and gathered her focus, clearing all distracting thoughts. After about ten seconds of silence, clarity returned—Liang Yicheng’s sense of discomfort was exactly the kind of instinctive reaction “Chen Xiang” would have when facing fear. From another angle, this was precisely the key to help her better understand “Chen Xiang”. The weak flee from fear, the strong master it. Realizing this, the last trace of hesitation in Shi Yin’s eyes completely vanished.

Filming resumed, and her entire demeanor had transformed.

Raising the gun, aiming, pulling the trigger—her movements were smooth and flowing, without a hint of hesitation.

On the monitor, Shi Yin’s eyes shone with astonishing intensity. The moment the bullet left the barrel, her brows shifted slightly, as if a long-dormant power had awakened. It was not the tremor of fear, but the shiver of breaking through the cocoon into a butterfly. Then, the corners of her lips lifted into a faint yet sharp smile.

—Dignity exists only at the tip of the blade.

Once she personally grasped her power, there was no need to bow to fear.

In the story of Against the Scales, the formerly weak “Chen Xiang” perished with that shot, while the reborn stood up from the smoke of battle.

“Perfect!” Gu Jizhou finally revealed a satisfied smile.

After wrapping up that day, Shi Yin and Xiang Tingyan gave a brief report and left the set. The trouble caused by Liang Yicheng needed to be resolved—in a set crowded with people, everything required extreme caution, so some matters were better handled at home.

~

After returning home and reviewing materials, Shi Yin had a preliminary plan. Seeing that it was still early, she took a taxi to Minghu Villa.

It had also been several days since she had seen Prince—she missed him a bit.

The Minghu Villa stood quietly among the greenery in the dusk. As Shi Yin turned into the yard, she saw Li Xuan, whom she hadn’t met in nearly half a month—her schedule with Prince had been irregular these two weeks, so it was a rare encounter.

Two months had passed, and Prince’s body had clearly grown longer, his fur fluffy, already showing the majesty of an adult dog. At that moment, he was happily chasing a frisbee thrown by Kevin, and every time he returned it, he nudged Li Xuan’s legs with his furry head, tail wagging, awaiting praise.

“Miss Shi, what brings you here today?” Kevin greeted warmly while tossing the frisbee high into the distance.

Prince made a beautiful airborne leap, catching it precisely. Seeing Shi Yin, he immediately ran over, rubbing his furry head affectionately against her legs, making soft whining, playful sounds.

Understanding, Shi Yin grabbed the other end of the frisbee and played tug-of-war, pretending to lose: “Ah, Prince, you’re so strong, I can’t pull against you~”

Prince proudly huffed twice, tail wagging like a small fan.

Shi Yin slowly let go, patting the border collie’s back: “Go play with Kevin for a bit, good boy.”

Kevin reached to take the frisbee, but Prince turned his head, holding the prize, and ran happily around the yard.

“Hi,” Shi Yin put on her signature smile and walked toward Li Xuan—after all, he was half a “benefactor”, and getting caught slacking wouldn’t look good. “The set’s been a bit busy lately. Luò and I asked for leave.”

Li Xuan simply replied “Hm,” his gaze still following the border collie rolling on the lawn.

Shi Yin secretly studied his profile, trying to guess his mood, but could read nothing—neither happiness nor displeasure.

Nearby, Luo Wensheng, handling work, suddenly looked up and interrupted abruptly: “Miss Shi, are you okay?”

“Me? Should I be… not okay?” Shi Yin was taken aback.

Luo Wensheng pushed his glasses: “I saw the trending post. If you were hurt, you could go to Liangmu Hospital for treatment.”

“I’m not hurt, thank you.” Shi Yin was surprised—when had Luo Wensheng become so concerned about her?

“What trending post?” Li Xuan asked softly, pulling his wandering thoughts back.

Luo Wensheng took out his phone; the screen showed the hot pot restaurant video: “Miss Shi, acting bravely at the hot pot restaurant.”

Li Xuan’s gaze fell on the screen. A faint light reflected in his deep eyes, but no emotion could be read.

Shi Yin: “……” Hey! Is it really okay to gossip right in front of the person involved?

She muttered internally, while Li Xuan lifted his eyes. His deep gaze brushed past her lightly—weightless, yet causing Shi Yin’s chest to tighten. She instinctively sensed something was off—a kind of inexplicable sixth sense alerting her.

In a flash, instinct reacted before reason. Her lips naturally curved into a relaxed smile with a hint of pride, as if sharing a fun story: “I recently took an action scene, so my agent arranged some martial arts lessons. I only learned a little, didn’t expect it would really come in handy.”

She spoke while naturally turning to the side, casually demonstrating a couple of moves. Her posture was relaxed, and the sequence of her techniques clearly followed the style of Zhou Yunfeng: “See, I learned these moves by sneaking lessons from Brother Feng. At the time, my mind was blank, it was all reflexes.”

Hearing this, Zhou Yunfeng approached, his eyes professionally scanning her movements, commenting: “The force in your hands is a bit off. You need to drive it from your waist and abdomen. Everything else is okay. Did you have any foundation before?”

Shi Yin kept a shy smile, her heart pounding.

She finally understood what was off!

That night at the Lotus Hotel, when she was chased by the strong man and ended up falling, she had to seek Li Xuan’s help. But now, just two months later, she could efficiently subdue an adult man—such a transformation was indeed abrupt.

Fortunately, Sister Wen had signed her up for martial arts lessons, which now served perfectly as an excuse to explain her extraordinary talent. It seemed that after gaining skills from the system, she would need to be more cautious.

“No need to complicate things.” Li Xuan’s voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts.

Shi Yin looked up, puzzled: “?”

Li Xuan’s gaze moved away from his phone screen and he said lightly: “If you want to learn, let Yunfeng teach you.” His eyes shifted slightly toward Zhou Yunfeng, who had been standing quietly to the side, “He’s been a special police officer.”

Shi Yin looked at Zhou Yunfeng in surprise, her heart shamefully fluttering. According to the system’s standards, her Sanda was at the beginner level, but Zhou Yunfeng was at least advanced, possibly even master level. Such an opportunity was rare. Shi Yin forcibly suppressed her excitement and politely declined: “Wouldn’t it be too much trouble for Brother Feng…”

“No problem.” Zhou Yunfeng replied concisely.

Seeing his quick agreement, Shi Yin seized the opportunity to make more requests: “Brother Feng, can you disassemble and assemble a gun? I have a scene coming up and want to practice privately, but I can’t seem to find a suitable teacher…”

Zhou Yunfeng slightly nodded: “Wait a moment.”

He stood up and left, returning shortly with a dark object.

Shi Yin’s pupils dilated: “!” I remember our country bans guns… right?

“A Type 64 replica, one-to-one scale, no firing function.” Zhou Yunfeng explained calmly.

Shi Yin finally relaxed—so it was a model, a small training prop. She understood.

Zhou Yunfeng: “I’ll demonstrate once.”

He moved quickly—removed the magazine, checked the gun, pulled the safety ring, removed the sleeve, took out the recoil spring, the safety lever, the firing pin. In the blink of an eye, he had disassembled the model into parts. The sequence seemed honed by countless repetitions, with no redundancy, even leaving a visual afterimage. Shi Yin was dizzy from watching, and he reassembled it at the same speed.

“Rusty hands.” Zhou Yunfeng glanced at the timer, “14 seconds.”

Shi Yin watched in awe and quickly asked: “Brother Feng, can I learn this set of movements from you? Not at this speed, just enough to practice and get proficient.”

Zhou Yunfeng did not answer immediately, instead casting a glance at Li Xuan.

Li Xuan lightly nodded: “Yes.”

After playing frisbee with Prince for a full half hour, Shi Yin collapsed onto the lawn, feeling as if her limbs no longer belonged to her. Prince remained full of energy; she had to sigh—she was truly just a playmate, and the border collie’s stamina was overwhelming!

During the break, Shi Yin noticed Li Xuan’s wheelchair still stationary, as if time had nothing to do with him. She thought for a moment and approached: “Li Xuan, may I ask you a question?”

Regarding the trouble Liang Yicheng had caused, she wanted to hear different opinions, though she needed to frame it carefully.

Li Xuan raised his eyes, signaling her to continue.

“If you’re at work and encounter a very annoying… senior. Certain words or actions make you uncomfortable, but you can’t directly confront him because of an important company project—what would you do?”

“Why not confront him?” Li Xuan asked calmly, with genuine curiosity.

Shi Yin was momentarily stumped by the blunt question: “…” Your focus seems a bit off?

She patiently explained: “Because if I confront him, the project might fail. And we have more than one collaboration not yet settled. If we fall out, I won’t get paid and might even be kicked out, affecting future projects.”

—The Chaos Song and Against the Scales haven’t aired yet, and the system requires that the broadcast not be affected.

“Then initiate your own project,” Li Xuan said without lifting his eyes, casually, “Kick that person out.”

Shi Yin: “…………”

What level of capitalist statement is this?

She held back again, but finally couldn’t resist: “May I ask… have you ever worked in a company yourself?”

Li Xuan glanced at her lightly, slowly and firmly shaking his head.

Shi Yin maintained a polite fake smile: “The situation is, I’m just a low-level worker with no say. He has a higher position, and I can’t kick him out.”

Li Xuan readily switched to another plan: “Then go find someone with authority and fire him.”

“The first one to be fired will probably be me.” Shi Yin continued her fake smile.

Li Xuan: “……”

Shi Yin: “……”

The air suddenly quieted. After a brief moment of silent staring at each other, Li Xuan finally abandoned the idea of “crushing him with authority” and shifted direction: “Do you have any leverage on him?”

“Leverage…” Shi Yin blinked. In her mind, Ye Peiqian’s sexy spaghetti-strap dress flashed instantly. She murmured, “The Moonlight script… does that count?”

Li Xuan: “?”

Shi Yin cleared her throat and said seriously: “Maybe there is. It could be him. Possibly—I mean possibly, ha—he has an unspoken understanding with another female leader in our company. They have that kind of… agreed-to-play-for-three-months-and-then-break-up relationship, which doesn’t affect their reputations.”

Li Xuan: “The female leader is married?”

“Mm.” Shi Yin nodded heavily.

The two fell into another silent staring contest. A few seconds later, Shi Yin’s eyes suddenly lit up. She clapped her hands excitedly: “I’ve thought of a better way! I’m really a genius!”

She jumped up in a rush, speaking rapidly: “I have something urgent, I’ll leave first today, see you later!”

With that, she bounded out of the villa like a little deer that had just found its direction, leaving behind a light and cheerful figure.

After Shi Yin left in high spirits, only the rustling of leaves in the wind remained in the yard.

Li Xuan turned toward Luo Wensheng, who was still working, and suddenly spoke: “Wensheng.”

Luo Wensheng paused his fingers on the keyboard for a moment.

“Do you have a problem with her?” Li Xuan asked directly.

Luo Wensheng gently closed his laptop, folded his hands on his knees, and after a moment of thought answered: “I have no problem with Miss Shi herself. It’s just…” He pushed up his glasses, “I have reservations about her motives for approaching you.”

Li Xuan casually stroked the wheelchair armrest: “The last time Prince chased someone away, why didn’t you doubt her intentions?”

“You mean Miss Zhao?” Luo Wensheng fell silent for several seconds. “…A Xuan, Prince was deliberately sent to you by Miss Zhao’s father. She is your cousin on your great-grandfather’s side, within the fifth degree, a relative of yours.”

Li Xuan was silent for a moment, then nonchalantly looked away: “…Is that so?”

Luo Wensheng continued: “Since that time, Miss Zhao has been under house arrest by her father, strictly forbidden from appearing in front of you. Her ‘mistake’ was just getting a few cat hairs on her and almost being bitten by Prince.”

He looked at Li Xuan seriously: “By comparison, don’t you think Miss Shi has been treated too favorably?”

She had even been personally taught martial arts and shooting by Zhou Yunfeng. Everyone knew Zhou Yunfeng wasn’t just a bodyguard—he was the strongest shield beside Li Xuan.

Li Xuan, however, seemed not to hear this at all. His gaze turned toward the direction Shi Yin had left and he asked himself aloud: “What drama is she filming recently?”

Luo Wensheng sighed lightly and replied resignedly: “Against the Scales, a TV drama about cracking down on organized crime.”

~

As soon as Shi Yin entered her home, she didn’t even have time to change her shoes before eagerly dialing Wen Jinhe’s phone.

“Sister Wen,” she lowered her voice, excitement lacing her tone, “I want to ask you a favor. Yes, help me check something…”

On the other end, Wen Jinhe instantly became alert: “Wait, why do you want to check this?” She paused, her voice turning serious, “I remind you, don’t act on any mischievous thoughts you shouldn’t…”

“It’s not what you think!” Shi Yin hurriedly explained, then recounted every subtle harassment Liang Yicheng had displayed on set. She followed up with a bombshell: “And I personally saw Ye Peiqian enter his room late at night…”

On the other end, Wen Jinhe gasped: “These two… are playing quite recklessly.”

“So, Sister Wen,” Shi Yin said with a sly smile in her voice, “why don’t we… prepare a little ‘surprise’ for them?”

She laid out her plan, leaving out some key details but enough for Wen Jinhe to understand her intention.

Wen Jinhe’s tone returned to the composed and commanding style of a top-tier agent: “Alright, you don’t handle it personally. Keep filming normally these two days. I’ll leak some hints through a few paparazzi. Sister Wen has been in this circle for ten years; the network of people from all walks of life is still there. We’ll make sure this little drama plays out perfectly.”

After hanging up, Shi Yin leaned against the sofa, a meaningful smile curling at the corners of her lips.

What to do… she actually felt a little excited.

The next day, returning to the set, everything was calm and uneventful. Until the afternoon of the following day, the entire set was suddenly ignited by a commotion—

“Hurry, hurry! Sister Qian’s husband came to visit the set!”

“Oh my god, he brought an entire catering team!”

“This is way too extravagant!”

Shi Yin’s eyes lit up. She leisurely strolled over to the rest area. What had originally been an empty space for equipment was now lined with a long table of high-end desserts. Macarons, Napoleon cakes, freshly baked croissants—an array dazzling to the eyes. Beside them, a Michelin-starred chef in a tall hat was even cooking foie gras on-site. The scale rivaled that of a wealthy family’s wedding banquet.

Beside Ye Peiqian stood a man full of wealth and presence. Though slightly short in stature, his shiny bald head, impeccably tailored suit, and a glimpse of a luxury watch on his wrist all radiated the aura of “I’m rich, don’t test me.” Staff around him continuously shouted, “President Min!” The man chuckled as he exchanged greetings with Gu Jizhou, while Ye Peiqian by his side wore a stiff, forced smile.

Liang Yicheng and Liu Chuan came one after the other. President Min’s gaze immediately swept over them like a spotlight, scanning back and forth—

Which one of these hat sellers put this on my head?