`Chapter 4

Chapter 4

At two in the afternoon, Shi Yin arrived at Feng Yang Media.

The artist management department of Feng Yang was inside an office building. When the elevator doors opened, a girl was squatting on the floor, carefully counting row after row of coffee and milk tea cups, with a large bunch of takeout hanging from her arm, swaying slightly with her movements.

Shi Yin squatted down in the same posture and poked her on the shoulder.

The girl looked back at her, her face instantly lighting up. She sprang to her feet and wobbled from side to side: “…No, no, help me up, I stood up too fast, low blood sugar, dizzy.”

“Try not to stay up so late,” Shi Yin said, holding her knees, feeling sympathetic.

“Tian Tian, where’s my coffee?” someone from next door asked.

“Here, coming right up!” the girl stretched her neck to reply, playfully winking at Shi Yin. “I’ll bring it to you in a bit.”

About five minutes later, a round-faced girl whose real name was Tian Xiufang, stage name Tian Tian, peeked over: “Latte, iced Americano, or flat white—you pick. Why are you at the office?”

“Iced Americano,” Shi Yin answered with a counter-question. “Why are you delivering takeout now?”

Tian Tian was Shi Yin’s only friend at Feng Yang she could really talk to. She was two years older than Shi Yin and entered the industry the same year. They were like sisters, equally struggling, and didn’t look down on each other.

Tian Tian pulled out a chair and sat down, inserting the straw for Shi Yin before carefully handing over the coffee: “Delivering takeout is nothing. As long as there’s a role to film, I’ll serve tea and water to that group of business people every day like a workhorse. I’m almost out of money for rent!”

Tian Tian’s appearance was not outstanding. She was thin, but her face suffered disproportionately. On camera, others might gain ten pounds; her face looked several times rounder. Most roles she got were palace maids next to empresses, handmaids next to wives, dorm mates next to school beauties—always minor, background roles with little chance of real development.

“You still haven’t said. Why are you here? Has Da Yan finally realized his conscience and remembered you exist?”

Tian Tian had heard some of Shi Yin’s situation over the past two years. They first met in Yunxi. Tian Tian was an extra, Shi Yin was just browsing, and they later discovered they were in the same company. Occasionally they shared gossip, forming a bond of mutual sympathy.

Shi Yin thought for a moment, picking the key points: “I’m filming a movie, Song of the Turbulent Age, playing Female Role Six.”

According to the cast list, there were five important female roles. She was being humble—Yu Ying as Female Six made sense.

“That sounds familiar. Let me check,” Tian Tian pulled out her phone, squinting at it for a while before exclaiming, “Oh my, the male lead is Ming Zhe!”

Tian Tian nudged Shi Yin with her elbow: “Hey, is Ming Zhe handsome? Really one eighty?”

“…Ahem,” Shi Yin choked on her coffee, hesitating, “Well… with shoes on, definitely.”

“Got it, without shoes then?”

“….” Shi Yin nervously looked at the ceiling. Without shoes, he was 175.6 cm—hard to forget.

“I knew it, tsk tsk, these guys, no matter their real height, dare to put one eighty on their profile.” Tian Tian laughed mischievously and added, “You’re lucky. Ming Zhe’s fans are fierce. The movie box office won’t do badly. Getting screen time is worth it! But will Da Yan really give you this good an opportunity?”

Shi Yin shook her head: “No, he gave it to Xia Xia.”

Tian Tian: “Then how…”

Shi Yin: “Xia Xia thought it was too hot, too little money, too much trouble, so she had me check in for her.”

Tian Tian couldn’t believe it: “And then… you just went for it?”

Shi Yin showed a small smile: “Yeah.”

Tian Tian was speechless, then gave a thumbs up: “You really did it. Xia Xia must be furious. She didn’t message you to curse?”

“No,” Shi Yin opened her phone and scrolled through Xia Xia’s Moments, “but I was blocked.”

Tian Tian looked down and sure enough, below her pretty profile picture was a cold, empty line.

“Did she complain? Did Da Yan give you trouble?”

“She did. That’s why I came to the company to take my punishment,” Shi Yin sighed faintly.

The punishment was real, but the one giving her trouble wasn’t Yan Li—it was Yang Tianming. Shi Yin had just received a message from Yang Tianming’s assistant saying that Mr. Yang was in a meeting and subtly told her to “wait.” He didn’t specify a time, clearly planning to leave her hanging.

Feng Yang’s reception area had a TV, but the company promo was not on. Instead, the midday news was replaying.

Shi Yin, bored, rested her chin on her hand and watched.

The provincial news station’s style was always formal, and this time was no exception. The screen showed a field survey from a few days ago. The narration not only promoted local tea culture but also explored the “common prosperity code” of integrating agriculture, culture, and tourism, injecting new momentum into economic development. A group of people walked through the morning mist in green hills, visiting tea gardens, picking tea leaves. The leading man slightly bent forward, listening attentively to the farmers explain tea processes.

He wore a plain white short-sleeve shirt, neatly tucked into black pants. His outfit was standard, but with broad shoulders and long legs, his posture was straight, standing out among the older officials like a magnet, attracting attention.

Shi Yin stared a bit longer. The man had deep-set brows, and his face showed signs of age, but these marks did nothing to lessen his appeal. Instead, they highlighted a mature, restrained aura. Shi Yin quickly remembered—it was the man she had glimpsed at the Lotus Hotel that morning.

The subtitles at the bottom of the news scrolled evenly. The man’s name was Li Yun, and the titles preceding it looked intimidating.

Shi Yin was so absorbed she didn’t move her eyes until the camera returned to the anchor desk.

A warm voice came from her side—Tian Tian leaned over, whispering: “Huh? You’re watching Zhao Yuqing? You’re also eating her gossip?”

Shi Yin responded half a beat late: “…Ah? What Yuqing? What gossip?”

Tian Tian pointed at the TV, at the female anchor in a white suit: “Big gossip guaranteed true. Anchor Zhao used to be on the entertainment channel. Recently her resources skyrocketed; she got fast-tracked to the midday news.”

She looked around, even though it was just the two of them, and deliberately lowered her voice: “I heard her backer is deep-pocketed, maybe with red connections. Marketing accounts don’t even dare mention her name. Even big paparazzi like Zhou Yijian dare not ‘see you Monday’ with anchor Zhao.”

Shi Yin let out a small “wow” and asked curiously: “Impressive, impressive. Where did you ‘hear’ all this from?”

Tian Tian raised her small chin proudly, it tilted high: “I’m bad at studying, but good at intelligence work. If this were a Republican-era drama, I’d be some kind of spy!”

“Spy?” Shi Yin kindly reminded, “Spy sounds like a villain.”

“Special agent, special agent,” Tian Tian said, scratching Shi Yin playfully in frustration, “It’s pretty girls like you who look like villains! I, Tian, am full of righteousness!”

The two laughed and joked. Tian Tian suddenly sighed enviously: “I’m so jealous of you double-eyelid people. Anchor Zhao has them, you have them, on camera you look good. Not me, every shot makes my eyes look tiny.”

Shi Yin took out a mirror to check. Her lashes were dense and long, double eyelids narrow inside and wide outside, outer corners parallel like an open folding fan, classical and elegant. Her eyes were even more beautiful, like peach blossoms, shimmering water, slightly downturned and upturned, and when she smiled, the crescent-shaped eyes gave an impression that even a dog would seem loved.

“You think I should save money and get an eye-opening surgery too?” Tian Tian gestured at her own face, talking to herself.

Shi Yin advised: “Don’t rush, ask around and find a good doctor.”

Tian Tian: “Makes sense.”

~

After waiting nearly the whole afternoon, Yang Tianming finally agreed to meet her. His assistant frowned, scanning Shi Yin from head to toe, and said arrogantly: “Follow me. Mr. Yang is busy today. You only have twenty minutes.”

Shi Yin lowered her eyelids and followed, summoning her mission interface in her mind and reviewing it one last time.

The semi-transparent screen shook slightly, as if cheering her on.

When she entered, Yang Tianming was still on the phone. He glanced at Shi Yin, casually pointed at a seat. Yang Tianming was lean, wearing a khaki casual suit, with deep stubble around his lips, giving an impression of shrewdness and smoothness.

Shi Yin only sat a quarter of the way, keeping her legs together, fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the chair surface.

Yang Tianming observed her small movements from above, a trace of disdain in his eyes. After leaving her alone for over a year, the little girl had finally tasted hardship and now understood reality.

He slowly hung up the phone, slammed it onto the desk with a “thud,” making Shi Yin’s shoulders twitch: “Did Yan Li tell you that filming privately outside is a breach of contract?”

Shi Yin pursed her lips stubbornly and nodded.

Yang Tianming crossed his legs, his smile more skin-deep than real, staring at her: “If I really went after you, holding you responsible for breach of contract, a one to two million compensation would be basic, three to five million wouldn’t be too much. If I got really ruthless… that movie you filmed, you signed the contract bypassing me, right? Believe me, I could tell the director to cut all your scenes. You’re an artist in dispute with your agency—who would dare hire you?”

This threat was harsh. Shi Yin’s eyes burned with anger: “I’m an actor. Acting is my job. Why should I pay you?”

“You’re an actor?” Yang Tianming asked leisurely. “What have you acted in?”

Shi Yin: “…”

She clenched her fists, reckless: “Anyway, I have no money. Just ban me then.”

Seeing the young girl cornered, Yang Tianming’s face showed a victorious smile. He shifted tone: “Don’t always talk about banning. Xiao Shi, do you know why I called you here?”

Shi Yin stared at him cautiously.

“The company wants to cultivate you. You’re young, beautiful. A few dramas could make you famous,” Yang Tianming slowed down, painting a big picture, “When you’re popular, you can make me a lot of money, right? Being a star is great, earning millions a day, countless people fawning over you, praising you in every way. You can live in a villa, carry good bags, buy whatever you want. But…”

Shi Yin: “…But what?”

Yang Tianming: “But your temper needs to change. Don’t let opportunities come to you that you can’t handle. Think about how you’ve spent this past year. You’ve seen so many production teams in Yunxi—aren’t you envious? All of this could have been yours. You gave it up yourself!”

Shi Yin’s gaze flickered; her expression seemed to soften.

“There’s no getting something for nothing, right? To get something, you first have to learn to give…” Yang Tianming pressed on, a full CPU-level brainwashing for nearly ten minutes. The core point: Shi Yin was naive, made mistakes in the past, but as long as she obeyed in the future, she could continue acting and become a big star.

Shi Yin hung her head, replying occasionally, beaten down so badly she looked pitiful.

During a pause when Yang Tianming drank water, she sniffled and said gloomily, “Mr. Yang, do I still have a chance?”

Yang Tianming looked at her meaningfully: “That depends on your performance. Last time I persuaded Hu, and he was magnanimous—adults don’t hold grudges against children. Go back for now, think carefully these days. When Yan Li contacts you, remember, this is your last chance.”

“Thank you, Mr. Yang.” Shi Yin stammered, her eyelashes still glistening with tears. As she reached the door, she suddenly turned, hesitantly asking, “Mr. Yang, will you still contact Director Qiu to cut my scenes?”

Yang Tianming sighed: “Not this time.”

No need to overdo it. Even if he wanted to give instructions, Qiu He might not listen! It would just offend someone for nothing.

“I really just want what’s best for you,” Yang Tianming said sincerely.

【Side Mission “Stir the Grass Without Startling the Snake” Completed】

【Reward Obtained: Skill · My Eyes Are a Ruler】

Shi Yin wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, looked at the three characters above the man’s head 【Yang Tianming】, and saw the favor-disfavor value hovering at scale -3.

-3.

Yeah, right.

Shi Yin: I cried (T_T), I was pretending (^o^).