Chapter 013: Simple-Minded

Song Wan was momentarily taken aback, but then she smiled and walked over to stand in the prepared corner of the garden. Hua Yu also stood up and moved to her designated spot.

She had certainly noticed the change in everyone’s attitude toward Song Wan. Though she felt a twinge of sadness, Hua Yu didn’t dwell on it. She wasn’t particularly striking in appearance and had always cultivated the image of an elegant beauty—her style would never overlap with Song Wan’s. Besides, she had just received news from a friend: in addition to playing the antagonist in this film, Song Wan would also appear as the second female lead, Miao Yu, in "Celestial Clouds." Once the drama aired, barring any surprises, Song Wan was sure to become a sensation.

An actor who posed no threat yet was on the verge of stardom—whether or not you befriended her, you certainly couldn’t afford to make an enemy of her. Such was the way of survival in this industry.

If she, driven by a touch of jealousy, rushed to suppress Song Wan, would she be able to handle the countless newcomers emerging each year, many more beautiful than herself? Attempting to do so would only make her the laughingstock among her peers. Just like Tang Su, who was now on the verge of being blacklisted.

Her gaze accidentally met Song Wan’s. Hua Yu smiled at her before lowering her head, masking the worry in her eyes. All she hoped now was that this newcomer’s acting would be up to par—at the very least, that she wouldn’t keep causing retakes.

Though she couldn’t understand why Hua Yu’s attitude toward her had improved, Song Wan wasn’t ungrateful. She immediately returned Hua Yu’s smile.

Qian Fu nodded approvingly, and the script supervisor stepped in front of the camera: “Liu Ya approaches Liu Wan, action!”

Ever since childhood, Liu Ya’s father had regarded her only as a tool for his own gain. One drunken night, he wistfully uttered the name of a woman, sparking Liu Ya’s curiosity. Seizing the opportunity during a task, she knocked out a maid, donned her clothes, and sneaked into the Liu residence, eager to see what kind of woman her father had spoken of.

Carrying a teacup, Liu Ya entered the garden, only to find the woman she sought had already left. In the garden remained only a young maiden, reclining lazily among the flowers, her bearing radiant and refined.

Yet the maiden’s features bore such a striking resemblance to her father’s that Liu Ya was shocked to her core, her whole body trembling. The teacup slipped from her fingers and shattered on the ground.

Liu Wan frowned and looked over. “Which house are you from? How can you be so clumsy in your work?”

Liu Ya bowed low, forcing out her words through clenched teeth: “Miss... please spare me!”

Liu Wan’s personal maid was instantly furious, pointing at Liu Ya and scolding, “You girl, after making a mistake you still won’t kneel?”

Liu Ya was frozen with fear, yet stubbornly refused to kneel before Liu Wan.

Liu Wan found it odd but didn’t pay it much mind. She waved her hand, dismissing Liu Ya, and as she left, she admonished, “You’d better be careful in the future. The other members of the household have terrible tempers. If you make another mistake, no one will let you off so easily.”

With that, she rose and left the garden, leaving Liu Ya standing there, tears streaming down her face.

Suddenly, memories flooded back to her—how she and her sisters had always carried out missions for the Liu family, how many of her sisters had perished on assignments connected to the household. Before, Liu Ya hadn’t understood why. But now, upon seeing the resemblance to her father, how could she not know?

She stood beneath the vast sky, overwhelmed by a sorrow that threatened to drown her. After a long while, a single tear slid from the corner of her eye, tracing the crimson beauty mark on her cheek, and finally fell upon her skirt, spreading into a dark stain…

“Cut!” Qian Fu called out loudly, his face beaming with joy.

This scene didn’t require much from Liu Wan in terms of acting; Qian Fu had included it mainly to give Song Wan a chance to shine in front of the media and leave a good impression. Song Wan did not disappoint—she had done him proud!

Everyone glanced at each other, emotion pricking at the corners of their eyes. Shocked by what they’d witnessed, their doubts about Song Wan melted away. Thinking back to the suspicions they’d had about the newcomer only moments ago, some of the more sensitive among them blushed with embarrassment. To make up for their guilt, someone called out loudly, “Is this newcomer called Song Wan? Director Qian, where did you find her? She’s truly talented!”

Qian Fu, as if only just noticing the entertainment reporters hadn’t left, widened his eyes. “Why are you all still here?”

A reporter who was friendly with Qian Fu laughed and scolded, “Don’t pretend, Director Qian. Everyone knows you’ve found a real gem and want to show her off! Just tell us her name. If we release news about this newcomer’s face early, isn’t that free publicity for your film?”

Qian Fu chuckled, spat playfully, and laughed heartily. “As if I’m desperate for your help! Even if you want to promote my movie, would it have the same effect as once that scoundrel Zhou Qi’s drama airs?”

This was big news!

Though Director Zhou wasn’t a household name, his recently wrapped “Celestial Clouds” had garnered much attention. The reporter who’d spoken to Qian Fu wanted to ask more about Song Wan’s role, and the rest waited in silence, until a sharp voice interrupted: “Director Qian, why are you hyping up this newcomer so much? Did she give you some special benefit?”

What benefit could a newcomer possibly offer a director? Was this a veiled question about whether Song Wan had slept her way into the role?

The others turned to see it was the same haughty reporter who’d been so self-important earlier. Now, faced with everyone’s scornful stares, he flushed bright red but stubbornly refused to back down.

The reporter who had spoken with him earlier recoiled as though avoiding the plague, his expression sour as he silently sneered: “Is this guy an idiot? Who doesn’t know Director Qian is famously devoted to his wife—a rare example of a model marriage in the entertainment industry?”

He glanced at the man’s work badge. Hah! Chen Yu, reporter for the “Gossip Detective” program, started April 7, 2017.

Just started the day before yesterday—a total newbie.

That explained it. The entertainment industry was indeed a vast cesspool, but not everything in it was dark and tainted by unspoken rules. As a journalist, you could tell the truth, conceal it, or twist it—but you had to remain rational and objective, discerning reality from illusion.

Yet there were always those newcomers who stormed in with prejudice, reckless and self-righteous, convinced no one in the industry could possibly be decent, offending people from the outset.

Such types always vanished from the scene in the end.

Thinking this, he edged even farther away.

Qian Fu’s face darkened instantly. He hadn’t yet spoken when someone else retorted on his behalf: “My friend, you should watch your words. Everyone knows Director Qian is a man of integrity.”

The reporter who spoke up seemed to be defending Qian Fu, but his words also served as a warning to Chen Yu.

But Chen Yu misunderstood, thinking he was a paid shill for the director. He immediately shot back, “You say Director Qian is a good man and that makes it true? Who can say for sure? It’s all just words. Besides, even if there was no casting couch here, with a face as foxy as that newcomer’s, who’s to say she didn’t sleep with someone else? How else could she land such an important role so soon after entering the industry?”

Utterly outrageous!

At this point, none of the other reporters wanted to associate with him. They all rolled their eyes and kept their distance, afraid of being implicated.

Chen Yu, however, was blissfully unaware. He thought their retreat was because they felt guilty, and grew even more smug. “Let me tell you, as a newcomer you should lead an upright life and not rely on underhanded tricks. Otherwise, you’ll regret it when you’re older. By then, not even a wealthy family will want you!”

Qian Fu was so angry he almost laughed. How could he tolerate his own cast being slandered like this? He immediately ordered those around him, “Why haven’t you called security yet? How did an idiot like this get in? Are you blind?”

Song Wan, the subject of all this, was still standing in front of the camera, unable to leave before the outburst. She froze, head lowered, without a word.

Hua Yu, already seated, glanced at her. No matter how talented Song Wan was, she was still just a newcomer—dealing with this kind of thing must be hard. Meeting Ling Yang’s gaze, she got up and walked over to Song Wan. “Don’t take it to heart, Song Wan. There are a few like this every year. Their words aren’t worth a second thought.”

To her surprise, Song Wan looked up with a radiant smile. “Don’t worry, Sister Yu. I’m not upset.” In truth, she felt a little awkward calling a peer nearly ten years younger “sister,” but after a pause, she composed herself and continued, “On the contrary, I actually feel quite happy.”

Hua Yu was taken aback, not understanding.

Song Wan met the eyes of everyone watching and smiled brightly. “Even though he was spouting nonsense, he did say one thing that was true, and that makes me happy!”

The truth? Did this newcomer really land her role through backdoor deals?

But Song Wan, defying expectations, waved at Chen Yu. “Hearing you call me pretty really makes me happy. Thank you!”

She had never received such treatment in her previous life after entering the industry—this pleased her even more than compliments on her acting.

After all, if you weren’t attractive, nobody would ever try to take advantage of you in this business!

Hua Yu was momentarily surprised, then burst out laughing. “You really are something else!”

Others nearby couldn’t help but smile as well. Had it been any other newcomer, they’d likely have broken down in tears, regardless of the truth. But this one didn’t follow the script at all—she actually thanked the person slandering her.

Not a hint of affectation—so different from the typical overdone seductress!

But Chen Yu thought Song Wan was mocking him and immediately turned red with anger, glaring at her.

Song Wan looked at him with a faint, inscrutable smile, as if her gaze had pierced straight through him, filling him with a sudden, inexplicable shame.

“You—” Chen Yu started to speak, but a hand clamped over his mouth. Startled, he turned to see the crew’s security had arrived.

Two burly guards seized Chen Yu by the arms, their grip unbreakable, and began dragging him out of the set.

At that moment, Song Wan called out to stop them.

The others were baffled. Why not hurry and get rid of this kind of person, instead of keeping him around?