`Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After days of heat, Tancheng finally experienced a rare cool-down.

The sky was heavy with dark clouds. The oppressive air pressure, like a gray oil painting, blurred the outlines of buildings, giving people the illusion of struggling to breathe.

In the evening, Shi Yin wore blue-light-blocking glasses and checked precedents of artist contract terminations on her computer. These kinds of lawsuits were extremely tricky: long, low-yield, and most capable lawyers were unwilling to take them on. The other party made it clear that unless she had direct evidence of Feng Yang’s breach of contract or infringement, the only way to terminate the contract quickly was to pay compensation, letting them earn a “reasonable” termination fee. Many small agencies relied on artists’ termination fees for income.

The phone on the desk lit up every few seconds, showing unread messages.

Feng Yang had a small group chat with only signed artists, without including managers or executives. The chat was now flooded with uniform birthday wishes:

“Happy birthday, Sister Yan! Wishing you great success and your new film’s box office to soar!”

“Happy birthday, Sister Yan! Wishing you great success and your new film’s box office to soar!”

“…”

Zhuang Wanyan was Feng Yang’s top artist. Her position in the circle was around second or third-tier. Naturally, on her birthday, everyone fawned over her, making the chat lively and festive.

“Thanks, everyone! Tonight I booked ‘Slightly Tipsy’ for a private event. Come if you have time~” Zhuang Wanyan sent a voice message, her voice lazy and husky.

“Slightly Tipsy” was a famous Party KTV in the city center. Stylish, luxurious, with private rooms offering different entertainment options: karaoke, private parties, esports, pool parties, even golf. Zhuang Wanyan being able to book the entire venue proved she was “rich and prominent.”

“Just got off work, I’ll head over~”

“Sister Yan, so generous! I’ll grab some fruit platters!”

“Of course I’ll come, I want to stick close to Yan Yan~ muah muah 3”

Among the scrolling good wishes, Xia Xia suddenly tagged Shi Yin:

“@Shi Yin, you won’t come, right? Director Zheng’s film doesn’t allow leaves, does it?”

Shi Yin had just copied a message, ready to send a birthday wish like everyone else, but paused, rolling her eyes dramatically.

The Chaos Era Song was long finished, yet Xia Xia stubbornly believed Shi Yin had stolen her opportunity.

Shi Yin had heard the gossip from Tian Tian. When Zhuang Wanyan first became popular, she had a chance to collaborate with Zheng Zongyao but was rejected when meeting the director in person. Xia Xia deliberately brought this up now—truly “thoughtful.”

The group went silent for a second. The speed of congratulations slowed. The smart ones had already gone to private chats to find out and snack on the gossip.

“Happy birthday, Sister Yan! Wishing you great success and your new film’s box office to soar!”

Shi Yin sent her greeting first, then leisurely replied twice:

“@Xia Xia? How could that be? I finished filming long ago, just lazing at home haha.”

“Who’s Director Zheng? @Xia Xia”

Five, four, three, two, one.

Shi Yin silently counted to five, held down her previous message, and clicked retract.

What needed to be seen was already seen. What hadn’t been seen could be asked for screenshots later.

Shi Yin, like a quail caught learning “Zhuang Wanyan and Director Zheng gossip,” poked her head out nervously, trying to cover up:

“@Xia Xia uh, that… you must be mistaken, our director’s surname is Qiu (crying loudly).”

This whole operation changed the perception from “Xia Xia wants Shi Yin to irritate Zhuang Wanyan” to “Xia Xia wants Shi Yin to irritate ‘Zhuang Wanyan.’” The focus shifted from Shi Yin to Zhuang Wanyan.

No one in the group responded. Shi Yin’s reply hung alone at the bottom, looking rather pitiful. She was only a bit unlucky; the person feeling worst wasn’t her.

Just as the awkwardness peaked, Tian Tian jumped in to rescue the atmosphere: “Director Qiu is Qiu He, right? I really like his Twilight Snow Moment, school crush forever! I so want to play a beautiful top student T T”

“@Acting find me I’m super sweet Pfft haha~ what’s the connection of these last four characters to you?”

“You want to know (clenches fists) come to Slightly Tipsy, I’ll tell you in person (tap head)!!”

Tian Tian joked, sending four or five funny stickers in a row, the screen full of hilarious gifs.

Seeing the atmosphere warm again, Zhuang Wanyan “patted” Shi Yin in the chat, then sent a voice message: “Were you trained by Lily? I followed her when I first started too, so I count as your half-senior. Since you’re home, come out and play, I’ll treat.”

Shi Yin: “Cat cat holding rose.jpg”

In the industry, trying to please someone was difficult, but offending someone was much easier. The corresponding backstabs were also harder to defend against. Perhaps a single interview, a single crew dinner, a casually disparaging remark, could erase all the efforts of a junior artist.

Zhuang Wanyan had a high status, many acting offers, and first pick of company resources. There was no need for her to bother with a small-time artist like Shi Yin. She wasn’t naive and wouldn’t be used as a pawn by a few provocative words, so she ignored Xia Xia and, with an attitude bordering on friendly, extended an invitation to Shi Yin. Whether out of curiosity or to maintain her persona, on the surface, everything remained harmonious.

Shi Yin only wanted to subtly counter Xia Xia; she had no intention of offending Zhuang Wanyan. This way, she couldn’t refuse the invitation.

WeChat showed a red notification. Tian Tian sent a sticker of a cat poking its head out.

Shi Yin asked directly: “Are you at Slightly Tipsy?”

Tian Tian: “Yeah. You usually don’t like joining in, so I didn’t tell you.”

Shi Yin: “Aba aba aba.jpg”

She thought a moment and asked again: “Did Xia Xia come?”

“Nope. Are you afraid of her? You don’t owe her anything!”

“I’m afraid we’ll clash heads if we meet.”

“No problem. She’s always nibbling leaves; she won’t beat you.”

“Big courage!”

The two exchanged messages back and forth for a while. Tian Tian then sent a voice message: “You should come. I don’t think the top sister is that petty.”

“I checked. The top sister’s assistant has to get the cake. If you arrive around six, it’s fine. She’ll be busy posing for photos and probably won’t notice you. We can sneak out together and go eat at that rice noodle place near your school!”

“The boss from Gan Province’s place?” Shi Yin rubbed her stomach—it was a bit hungry. “Then I want baby spicy.”

Tian Tian laughed at her: “Hahaha you’re so weak. I want devil spicy!”

Shi Yin: “……” I look at you and see a devil.

Outside, the fog was thick, visibility low.

Shi Yin changed clothes, tentatively stretched her foot outside the door, pulled it back, stretched it out again, pulled it back—repeated three times.

Xiao Assistant didn’t comment on her strange behavior, nor did he issue a mission.

Shi Yin sighed in disappointment, grabbed an umbrella, put her phone in her pocket, and set off.

Looking back on the behavior later, she felt deep regret. Xiao Assistant not reacting was the clearest hint. If this action had been beneficial, Xiao Assistant would have issued a mission to encourage her!

The evening went wrong from the start, a series of small misfortunes accumulating into disaster.

For example, Shi Yin missed the last shared bike outside the community.

For example, shortly after leaving, a drizzle began. She opened her umbrella only to find the rib lock broken.

Then, as she hesitated, an electric scooter sped by, grazing her with its mirror. Shi Yin’s wrist loosened, her phone “plop” fell into a flower bed, and the delivery guy in his rider uniform hurried away, shouting in the wind: “Sorry! Running late!”

Shi Yin picked up the dirty phone, closed her eyes, and felt the urge to turn home.

~

The weather in Jiangnan was like a child’s face—changeable.

When she left, it was still drizzling; after crossing a street, it turned into a fine mist, enough to wet her sleeves if she wasn’t careful.

She didn’t encounter a convenience store, so no chance to buy a new umbrella. Alternating arms to hold up the broken ribs, she pressed on until her arms ached as if she’d lifted iron for life.

“Slightly Tipsy” played soothing jazz. Possibly because she had booked the entire venue, there were few guests. A waiter led her through winding paths, turning east and west, until reaching the private room door, which she pushed open.

At the bar by the door, someone was playing cards. Noticing Shi Yin enter, they glanced up, then quickly looked down again.

“Who’s that? From our company?”

“Don’t know, why do you care? I’m out!”

The space was a party room, large enough for dozens of people. Inside, everything was happening: smoking and drinking, socializing, rolling dice, playing pool, and someone clinging to the microphone. Confetti and streamers covered the floor. The scene was noisy, more like a corporate team-building than a birthday party.

Tonight’s main star, Feng Yang’s top artist Zhuang Wanyan, sat sideways on the sofa, talking with someone. Her hair slightly curled, swan-like neck fair and long. The silver sequined dress highlighted her perfect curves, like a mermaid lying across the sofa.

Shi Yin rubbed her face, put on a standard social smile, and approached to greet: “Sister Yan~ happy birthday.”

Zhuang Wanyan didn’t recognize her and gave a polite, fake smile.

Since she was already here, Shi Yin couldn’t just waste the opportunity, so she thick-skinnedly reminded her: “Sister Yan, I’m Shi Yin, Yan Li’s artist. Thank you for inviting me to your birthday party.”

“Oh, you’re the one from the group chat…” Zhuang Wanyan finally allowed herself to look at her properly. Her red lips curved slightly: “Right, nowadays big directors all like this ‘blank slate’ style.”

Shi Yin was wearing an ordinary (=affordable) T-shirt and jeans, her long black hair casually tied at the back, no makeup, bare-faced. Combined with her naturally soft temperament, she looked like a well-behaved student, completely non-threatening.

Shi Yin: “……” It seemed Xia Xia’s words had some effect; Zhuang Wanyan still cared a bit.

She chose to play dumb, blinking her big watery eyes as if she didn’t understand, looking confusedly at everyone.

Zhuang Wanyan only teased lightly, maintaining a fairly calm attitude. She herself was a mature, dazzling beauty; someone like Shi Yin, an eighteen-line minor presence, posed no threat.

Zhuang Wanyan appraised Shi Yin from head to toe, then with interest let out a small exclamation: “Aken, the ‘younger sister’ role in my next film hasn’t been cast yet. What do you think of her?”

Question marks floated above Shi Yin’s head: “?”

No wonder she was suddenly on guard. To have reached the top sister, could she really have such a simple, warmhearted big-sister vibe? Recommending a role on the first meeting—how could she fully trust that?

Zhuang Wanyan’s manager, Aken, had been looking at his phone. Hearing this, he raised his eyes to glance at them but didn’t comment directly.

“When did you start meddling in other people’s business?”

“We’re from the same company, just helping out juniors,” Zhuang Wanyan said. “I really think she’s suitable, why not…”

Aken curled his lips and interrupted stiffly: “Director Wu’s film schedule moved up. You know him—he hates actors overlapping projects. The one you mentioned, I’ve already pushed back.”

“……” Zhuang Wanyan’s smile faded.

Shi Yin looked left, then right, and wisely kept her mouth shut.

“Sister Yan, it’s time to cut the cake,” the assistant ran over to remind them. “Manager Xu said he has something to do and will leave first.”

Zhuang Wanyan brushed her hair back, expression returning to composed: “Okay, got it.”

“Happy birthday to you~” A luxurious three-tier cake trolley was brought out. The air mixed with the sweet scent of fruit and cream. People in the room naturally gathered, clapping and singing the birthday song. Shi Yin quietly retreated to the outer edge, just enough to see Tian Tian holding a fruit plate squeezed in the other corner, stretching her neck to join in.

Shi Yin walked over and tapped her shoulder: “What are you looking at?”

Tian Tian casually handed her a green grape: “You’re here! Try this, New Zealand sweet globe, quite precious.”

“Look over there, top sister’s boyfriend.”

Next to Zhuang Wanyan stood a man in a casual suit, intimately holding her waist while cutting the cake. He was just over 1.7 meters, roughly level with Zhuang Wanyan in heels, decent-looking, though with noticeable dark circles.

Shi Yin glanced at the top of his head: “Xu Wei?”

Tian Tian’s eyes widened: “Wow, you actually recognize him?”

“Because he’s famous,” Shi Yin said, expression unchanged.

She didn’t recognize Xu Wei’s face, but from his name and Tian Tian’s reaction, she guessed roughly. Xu Wei was partly famous because of his father, Xu Shaokun, a real estate tycoon in Shanghai. The well-known chain cinema Mei Ji Cinema belonged to his family. On the other hand, this playboy loved causing trouble, and his notoriety rivaled that of celebrities. Last month, he made headlines for wrecking a Ferrari while street racing.

After the cake was cut, many people crowded around Xu Wei. The boldest even sat on his lap, hugged his neck intimately, and fed him drinks. Though the corner was dimly lit, Zhuang Wanyan could see it with a glance back.

This was outrageously blatant! Shi Yin felt wronged on behalf of the top sister.

“Manager Xu is generous with resources. Many want to get close to him and try to steal opportunities. Anyway, the top sister doesn’t care,” Tian Tian had clearly noticed the shady corner too, munching a piece of watermelon as she spoke.

“You know all this?” Shi Yin was taken aback. “Did you spy under someone’s bed?”

Tian Tian shrugged: “It’s semi-public company knowledge. Manager Xu was introduced by the top sister’s manager. He handles her love life.”

Shi Yin softly said: “...true Feng Yang style.”

Aken was not an ordinary manager like Yan Li who received a monthly salary. He was Yang Tianming’s partner and had high authority within Feng Yang. Even he was keen on matchmaking, showing how rotten Feng Yang was at its root.

“By the way,” Tian Tian said, putting down the fruit plate, “I added two new actor groups. Want to join?”

“Yes.” Shi Yin took out her phone, tapped the screen, but nothing happened.

“My phone might have water damage. Just add me directly,” Shi Yin fiddled, unable to power it on. She looked up and noticed Tian Tian’s attention had drifted, eyes fixed straight ahead.

“Look, next to Xu Wei—isn’t that Liu Cong, a producer from Hua Ying?”

“Liu Cong is Liu Cong,” Shi Yin looked carefully and said a tricky tongue-twister, “but I’m not sure if he’s the Liu Cong from Hua Ying.”

“Definitely him! I heard they’re launching a new project, a domestic intrigue ensemble drama. Oh my god, all those little devils will fight tooth and nail…” Tian Tian murmured, her voice growing softer.

Shi Yin remembered the gossip about Liu Cong she had drawn last time, and her expression instantly became indescribable.

She shook her phone, trying to salvage the situation: “I’ll go borrow a hairdryer.”

“Go ahead, go ahead,” Tian Tian waved absentmindedly.

“Micro Drunk” lived up to its five-star service. Shi Yin asked the staff, and though she couldn’t borrow a hairdryer, they led her to an extra-large bathroom and enthusiastically pointed to the wall-mounted dryer.

Shi Yin: “……” Fine, that works too.

She dried herself for nearly an hour, ensuring she was dry inside and out, then pressed the power button for three seconds. A familiar spinning flower icon appeared on the screen. A bit slow, but at least it powered on.

Shi Yin returned to the private room, only to find most people had left, leaving just a staff member cleaning.

Over already? She just wanted to find Tian Tian when the bathroom door opened. Zhuang Wanyan came out wearing a blazer, followed by her assistant with red eyes, seeming to have been crying.

Zhuang Wanyan looked slightly surprised: “You didn’t change? They went next door for the pool party.”

Shi Yin shook her head: “I’m not going. I already have plans with a friend.”

“Your friend is Tian Tian?” the assistant asked, smiling kindly at Shi Yin. “I just saw you two talking. She and Manager Liu left—didn’t tell you?”

Shi Yin was puzzled: “Manager Liu?”

Assistant: “Yeah, Manager Liu is Liu Cong, a friend of Manager Xu.”

Shi Yin pressed her phone a couple more times to confirm Tian Tian hadn’t sent her any messages.

“Oh, she sent me a message,” Shi Yin pretended to tap the keyboard. “Then I’ll head home first. Bye, Sister Yan.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” Zhuang Wanyan suddenly said.

“No, no,” Shi Yin waved repeatedly, “I can go back myself.”

“It’s raining outside. If we dawdle, it’ll get stuck in traffic. Where do you live? Say it quickly.”

Shi Yin didn’t want to give her exact address, so she casually said a nearby subway station: “It’s okay, Sister Yan, it’s no trouble.”

Zhuang Wanyan: “That’s on the way. I’m going to the Lotus Hotel.”

Shi Yin: “……” Slipped up! She should have said the suburbs.

If she refused again, it would seem impolite. Shi Yin had no choice but to accept Zhuang Wanyan’s sudden goodwill.

In the chauffeured car, Shi Yin opened her chat with Tian Tian: “Still going to eat rice noodles?”

Before sending, she thought for a moment, deleted part of the message, and rewrote: “Heard some gossip! Sharing with you! Liu Cong from Hua Ying likes playing S.M and even films it, posting online only with self-censorship. Isn’t that awful?”

Confirmed and sent.

“Mind if I smoke?” Zhuang Wanyan asked, her voice hoarse.

“No, go ahead,” Shi Yin shook her head.

Zhuang Wanyan smoked an e-cigarette, no open flame. She replaced the pod, and a cool berry-mint scent spread.

Casually, she asked: “How long have you been with Feng Yang?”

Shi Yin: “Almost two years.”

“Lily’s ability is average. Good resources probably don’t reach you,” Zhuang Wanyan commented indifferently. “What are your own thoughts?”

“No special thoughts,” Shi Yin scratched her head and replied honestly, “As long as I get roles.”

Zhuang Wanyan glanced at her meaningfully: “In two years, you won’t think that way anymore.”

Shi Yin couldn’t quite grasp her intention, so she remained silent.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but Shi Yin felt the assistant was secretly watching them through the rearview mirror. No—more accurately, watching Zhuang Wanyan.

Zhuang Wanyan seemed to lose interest in chatting. She stared out the window at the curtain of rain, quietly exhaling smoke, until passing the commercial street, she suddenly commanded: “Pull over for a moment.”

The three people in the car looked at her in unison.

“I’m hungry. Go buy a salad, no vinaigrette,” Zhuang Wanyan naturally instructed her assistant.

“Now?” the assistant asked in surprise, turning back.

“Or should I eat it tomorrow?” Zhuang Wanyan said coldly, discussing it as if it were a serious matter.

The assistant’s face froze: “B-but I didn’t bring an umbrella…”

Zhuang Wanyan immediately snapped: “You’re the assistant, I’m the assistant! Do I have to come up with a solution for you too?”

Seeing the assistant was close to tears, Shi Yin offered: “How about… you use my umbrella? But the clasp is broken, so you’ll have to hold it yourself.”

If worse came to worst, she could take a taxi home. The poor assistant had it rough either way.

The assistant looked grateful: “Thank you so much.”

Shi Yin smiled: “I should be thanking you, Sister Yan, for sending me along.”

Zhuang Wanyan didn’t object. She was now absorbed in her phone again, as if she hadn’t just made an unreasonable demand.

The assistant struggled to hold the umbrella, running into the rain. After driving a bit more, the car stopped in front of the Lotus Hotel. Shi Yin waited for Zhuang Wanyan to get out and politely said goodbye: “Thank you, Sister Yan. I’ll head home…”

“Wait a moment,” Zhuang Wanyan called after her.

The driver opened the trunk, packed with a dazzling array of bags, all birthday gifts and PR boxes. Zhuang Wanyan looked troubled, tapping her forehead, and imperiously said to Shi Yin: “You help me carry these upstairs.”

“Me?” Shi Yin pointed at her own nose in confusion.

This spot should have an emoji: “Me? [Question mark]”