Xi Ning sent a message, and it synced to the tablet. She screenshot the comment section from the trending topic and sent it over: These fans have lost their minds, shipping anything and everything.
Now they’re all shouting, “When will Yuan Yuan and Gu Shao get married?”
“Yuan Yuan and Gu Shao 99!”
Are they crazy?
Xi Ning: I get angrier the more I look at it. Qi Yuan has already exploited you to the bone, and now she’s stirring up rumors with your family’s young master?
I swear, I’m writing an article to roast her to death.
Wen Chu saw Xi Ning’s message and couldn’t even reply. She flipped the tablet face down and leaned over the sofa backrest, staring blankly outside.
She dozed off in the afternoon, half-asleep, and when she woke up it was already past seven.
Her phone had a reply from the company executives to the email she’d sent earlier: “If you want to take the role, just get the approval of Qi Yuan and Shu Mei. There’s no need to ask us.”
Wen Chu stared at her phone.
Her hopes were dashed. She smiled bitterly and got off the sofa. Auntie was busy in the kitchen; seeing that she was awake, she asked, “Why were you sleeping in the living room this afternoon? You must be exhausted.”
Wen Chu sat at the island counter, lifted the soup to drink, and shook her head: “It’s okay.”
Her mood was low. Auntie felt a pang in her heart but didn’t dare ask more. She only thought that Wen Chu’s job must be very hard—sometimes gone for months, then at home she had to work night shifts often, and her skin was suffering.
She muttered, “Mr. Gu really should find you another job.”
Wen Chu’s hand holding the soup paused.
Gu Cheng hadn’t insisted on breaking her contract—that must be because of Qi Yuan, right?
“Bang.”
Wen Chu suddenly put down the bowl, making Auntie jump and look at her: “What’s wrong? Is the soup too hot or too salty?”
Wen Chu spaced out for a moment, then shook her head.
“Nothing.”
She lifted the bowl again and drank, struggling to finish the meal. She couldn’t eat much, but there was a night shoot ahead, with one stunt rig after another—it drained all her strength. She had no choice but to eat.
The taste was like chewing wax.
After finishing, she grabbed her bag and went downstairs. Uncle Chen was already waiting. The neon lights flickered everywhere. The car started and headed toward the Film Studio.
Two actresses from next door came to visit the set, standing by the entrance chatting with Qi Yuan. Wen Chu got out of the car; Uncle Chen rolled down the window and casually greeted Qi Yuan.
Qi Yuan glanced up and nodded at him.
Uncle Chen drove off. It was just a simple greeting, but Wen Chu was more aware of it than usual. She walked toward the entrance, and Qi Yuan’s gaze casually swept over her.
The two actresses whispered to each other, covering their mouths.
“I heard your stunt double is quite a handful.”
Qi Yuan lit a slim cigarette, folding her arms.
“No one has more problems than her.”
Her voice wasn’t even lowered. Wen Chu’s eyes met hers—there was blatant superiority in Qi Yuan’s gaze. Wen Chu pursed her lips tightly, a phrase flashing through her mind:
Those favored become reckless.
Is Qi Yuan really like that?
If this were before, although Wen Chu detested Qi Yuan’s arrogance and knew she looked down on and bullied her, she still had Gu Cheng. But now, thinking Gu Cheng might have once liked Qi Yuan, she felt like all her confidence evaporated. She lowered her head and turned, walking down the corridor toward the makeup room.
“Why so distracted tonight?”
The Costume Designer asked while applying makeup.
Wen Chu snapped back to reality and forced a smile: “Nothing.”
“If it’s too hot, just say so. The power here can only support Teacher Qi’s dressing room for now,” the Costume Designer said helplessly.
Wen Chu looked over; everyone was enduring the heat. Opposite her, Qi Yuan sat under a fan and air conditioner, flipping through the script with several Costume Designers around her.
Wen Chu withdrew her gaze.
The Costume Designer sighed: “Qi Yuan’s treatment can really make people envious sometimes, don’t you think?”
Wen Chu clenched her palm tightly.
There was only one night of night shoots left, so naturally tonight’s scenes were more intense. Wen Chu lifted her skirt and arrived on set.
The main scene tonight was [ Qingping abducts Rong Ye]. The two disagreed, fearing it would affect the emperor’s decision. Qingping didn’t want Rong Ye to interfere, so she planned to kidnap him and hide him for a few days.
That meant Wen Chu had to be rigged on wires, along with Jiang Ran. Jiang Ran also had wires, but the main focus was on Wen Chu. Both had the harnesses fastened around their waists.
She heard the Deputy Director pull Jiang Ran over. Jiang Ran looked surprised at how quick she was. The scent on her wafted over—different from Qi Yuan’s. Her fragrance was mainly of orchid.
Jiang Ran took a sip of water and said to Wen Chu, “I’m entrusting my life to you later.”
Wen Chu smiled at him. She memorized the moves and searched for the camera angle. Jiang Ran, held in her arms, slowly got used to it.
The Director called out, “Action!”
Wen Chu and Jiang Ran swung through the air. Wen Chu carried Jiang Ran as they ran over a “hill.”
Jiang Ran, who often filmed fight scenes for Qi Yuan, noticed Wen Chu’s strength—it was soft but powerful, and her moves were very precise. He “slept,” his face brushed by her hair.
Arriving at the “cave,” she tossed him inside, then swiftly bound his hands. The camera captured her back. After tying him up, Wen Chu stepped out of frame.
Qi Yuan came on, clapped her hands with a “Got it!” expression. But perhaps because Wen Chu was so efficient and seamless, Qi Yuan’s part felt a bit limp.
The Director watched the footage for a while, then leaned forward: “Qi Yuan, one more take.”
Qi Yuan paused, glanced at Wen Chu not far away, and knew the Director probably thought she wasn’t sharp enough. This wasn’t the first time it happened.
She nodded, “Okay.”
They started over.
Wen Chu stood by the monitor, hearing the Director and assistant subtly shake their heads. Yet the Director had the assistant help Qi Yuan adjust her costume and kindly said, “Let’s do it again.”
The assistant stepped forward and even brought a cup of coffee respectfully.
Wen Chu thought it was absurd.
If it were any other actress—or herself—there’d be no such treatment. The assistant would be pulling and tugging, pointing fingers, the Director hands on hips, pointing at the camera: “Here, what are you looking at? Can’t find the shot? What are you even filming?”
Wen Chu drifted with aimless thoughts. Her phone buzzed with many messages from Gu Cheng, but she didn’t check them.
After that, she and Jiang Ran reshot several takes of this scene, then several more confrontation and struggle scenes between them. When they finished, it was already dawn. Since the night shoot was the last scene, Jiang Ran took off the wires.
The Director told Wen Chu, “Teacher Wen, just a few more shots, then the scenes at this set are officially done.”
Wen Chu stood on the platform.
The night shoot was finally over. She breathed a sigh of relief—it meant an end to this exhausting day-night reversal. She agreed.
The Director’s instruction was sudden. The crew below didn’t notice the safety mats being removed and had already dragged them away. The Action Teacher was exhausted and resting nearby.
With another teacher’s help, Wen Chu fastened the hooks around her waist.
The scene began, and Wen Chu was suspended in mid-air.
At that moment, a hook around her waist caught on something. Wen Chu flew forward; the wind whooshed by.
The hook slipped off. She focused on “flying” and didn’t realize that her entire body suddenly slid uncontrollably like on a track, falling downward.
In an instant, without warning, Wen Chu fell onto the deflated safety mat.
Her shoulder ached fiercely. She looked up at the ceiling, but everything went black.
The Director was terrified in that moment and rushed forward but was too late.
Everyone else was startled awake by the scream.
Chaos broke out on set.
Qi Yuan’s dressing room door was tightly shut, not opened. They didn’t have time to knock but hurried to send Teacher Wen to the hospital.
Fortunately, there was a hospital near the Film Studio, and the studio was experienced with emergencies like this.
Meanwhile,
Inside Qi Yuan’s dressing room.
Shu Mei gripped her phone, her face dark.
“What did you say?”
Qi Yuan listened.
“Xingyao contacted us. They want to help Wen Chu terminate her contract and remove the five-year ban on entering the industry. They’re willing to meet any conditions, no matter the price!”
Shu Mei ground her teeth.
“Has Xingyao gone mad? Has Gu Shao gone mad?”
Qi Yuan held a cigarette between her fingers, eyes narrowed. She sneered, “Not that easy. I won’t agree.”
Shu Mei smoothed her arm.
“What happened between you and Gu Shao? Why is he suddenly doing this? Xingyao isn’t even a talent agency. What’s his game? Even if she terminates the contract with us, with one word from us, other companies will still boycott her. But what if Gu Shao really wants to help her?”
Qi Yuan’s face darkened as she thought more. She said, “Who knows? What kind of madness is this? Is he really going to marry her? The Gu Family would never agree.”
Shu Mei looked at her and softly said, “Think about how good Gu Shao was to you. Eight years ago, if not for Fang Yi…”
Qi Yuan bit down on her cigarette.
She took a sip of coffee, thinking about Shu Mei’s words. She lowered her gaze and snorted coldly, yet understood Gu Cheng’s feelings clearly.
She said, “Tell Xingyao to have Gu Cheng contact me directly.”
Shu Mei nodded.
“Okay.”
***
Wen Chu arrived at the hospital half in pain and half unconscious. Uncle Chen was already frantic, calling Gu Cheng. The luxury car quickly reached the hospital.
Gu Cheng, dressed in a suit and leather shoes, got out, strode upstairs, and saw a group of people. Among them was the familiar actor Jiang Ran helping to lift Wen Chu onto another bed for examination.
Gu Cheng stepped forward and grabbed Jiang Ran’s wrist. Jiang Ran was stunned, looked up, and met the sharp gaze of Jing City’s Gu Shao. He coughed and quickly stepped back.
Gu Cheng glanced at Wen Chu on the bed. Her face was pale, sweat beading on her forehead from pain. His heart twisted. He bent down, picked her up, and moved her to another bed for filming.
He stood at the doorway watching. The Deputy Director was pushed out to handle the situation. Gu Cheng looked at the Deputy Director—he had seen Gu Cheng many times and had always been gentle and casual. But now, the young master’s presence was heavy and oppressive.
The Deputy Director quickly apologized, “It was the crew’s carelessness. The safety mat was removed before the shoot was finished, and after filming all night, everyone was exhausted and didn’t notice…”
“Didn’t notice?”
Gu Cheng grabbed the Deputy Director’s collar and questioned him, towering over him.
The Deputy Director was terrified.
“Mr. Gu, rest assured, all of Teacher Wen’s subsequent medical expenses will be fully covered by us.”
Gu Cheng’s face was as cold as ice.
“Do I need your money?”
Sweat dripped from the Deputy Director’s forehead; he was nearly trembling.
“Mr. Gu, just tell us what you want us to do, how to compensate—whatever it is, we’ll do our best.”
Gu Cheng’s expression was ruthless.
“Wait for the authorities to step in.”