Cheng Xiaoke blinked, her eyes lighting up as she instantly grasped Yuan Xi’s meaning.

Chen Yang was a renowned top-tier agent in the entertainment industry, with an impressive array of resources at his disposal. Yuan Xi, as Chen Yang’s only artist at the moment, had access to the best opportunities Chen Yang was willing to offer.

In other words, rumors about being a “homewrecker” or getting by through connections were meaningless—unless you ignored the colossal backing of Chen Yang.

“Brother Yuan, I get it now! I promise I won’t meddle in this matter!” Cheng Xiaoke declared with determination, her face radiating confidence as though she had completely understood Yuan Xi’s intentions.

Yuan Xi: ???

What did she get? All he meant was that Brother Chen would handle everything. Wasn’t it common sense that when you have a famous agent, nothing beats watching them slap down rumors with their sheer reputation?

Who cares about stolen boyfriends or petty accusations of being a homewrecker? Holding onto your agent’s backing was the real power play—especially when you’re their only artist.

Seeing Yuan Xi’s slightly bewildered expression, Cheng Xiaoke grew more serious. “Brother Yuan, I know you want to wait for them to embarrass themselves. And, honestly, I’d love to expose them myself, but I’ll hold back and let you take the lead!”

Yuan Xi: … “Actually, no, I do need you to expose them. This kind of gossip is nasty, so the sooner it’s cleared up, the better. Anyway, I’m off to shoot my scenes.”

Despite not being a seasoned actor, Yuan Xi’s performance placed him comfortably among the top three in the cast.

After witnessing Yuan Xi’s performance, many onlookers began to waver in their assumptions.

With acting skills like that, did he really need to rely on connections or questionable means to land this role?

The rumors about Qi Yunrou and Fu Yushen had been circulating wildly, but there was never any concrete evidence to confirm them. Neither party had openly admitted to anything, and with Fu Yushen staying silent, Qi Yunrou dared not directly claim him as her boyfriend. To maintain her image, even if she wanted to smear someone, she wouldn’t do so blatantly.

Faced with ambiguous gossip and Yuan Xi’s undeniable talent, many in the crew began to question the credibility of the rumors.

Why would someone with genuine talent resort to relying on connections? If they could make it on their own merit, who would willingly endure the stigma of being labeled as someone who got in through favoritism?

Yet, Yuan Xi seemed completely indifferent to what the crew thought. He diligently followed the director’s instructions and focused on delivering his scenes. Most of his interactions were with the male and female leads, both of whom were solid actors. As a result, there were very few NGs during filming.

After a scene wrapped, Yuan Xi stood nearby, casually chatting with his assistant. Liang Hao, observing him from a distance, couldn’t help but glance at Qi Yunrou with a slightly puzzled expression.

“Xiao Rou, are you sure Yuan Xi got in through connections? His acting is pretty good—doesn’t really seem like what you said. Also, I’ve never heard any real proof that he likes men,” Liang Hao said, his voice tinged with doubt.

As he finished speaking, he lifted his cup to take a sip, subtly masking the bitterness in his expression.

Qi Yunrou, gripping her water cup tightly as if she might crush it, put on a pitiful and aggrieved expression. “At first, I didn’t want to believe it either,” she said softly. “But recently, Ah Shen and I have been fighting because of him. We’re still in a cold war.”

Liang Hao glanced at Qi Yunrou’s phone. Indeed, over the past few days, there had been no sign of calls or messages between her and Fu Yushen.

Even so, Liang Hao wouldn’t act on his suspicions. He had his principles, and meddling in others’ affairs wasn’t one of them.

After finishing his scenes, Yuan Xi didn’t leave the set. Instead, he found a quiet spot to watch the other actors perform. Whenever he encountered something he didn’t understand, he’d seek out nearby crew members willing to explain or share their expertise.

Perhaps it was Yuan Xi’s diligent and humble attitude that began to chip away at the prejudices some crew members initially held against him.

The mystery surrounding Qi Yunrou’s boyfriend also played a role—no one knew who he was, so they couldn’t confirm whether her claims about Yuan Xi were true. On the contrary, Yuan Xi’s actions didn’t align with the image of someone who had used connections to get into the production. There was no sign of entitlement or arrogance in his demeanor.

From a quiet corner, Liang Hao observed Yuan Xi closely. The more he watched, the more conflicted he felt. Often, a person’s small habits and unconscious gestures reveal their true character, and everything about Yuan Xi suggested a kind and genuine individual. He was nothing like the manipulative third party or schemer Qi Yunrou had described.

“Don’t you know what people in the crew are saying about you?”

The voice belonged to Xia Wenru, the actress playing the supporting female role. She approached Yuan Xi, glancing down at the notebook he was diligently scribbling in, and couldn’t resist asking in a low voice.

Caught off guard while intently watching the male and female leads act, Yuan Xi turned to her with a look of surprise. “Sister Xia?”

Xia Wenru smiled warmly and grabbed a small stool to sit next to him in the corner. Gesturing toward his notebook, she asked softly. “May I take a look at your notes?”

“Of course,” Yuan Xi replied, closing the notebook and handing it to her with both hands. Then, he sat quietly beside her, as obedient as ever.

Xia Wenru flipped through the notebook in her hands while asking. “Haven’t you heard the rumors circulating in the crew? I’m curious about how you landed this role. Is it really like the rumors say?”

Yuan Xi was a bit surprised, not expecting Xia Wenru to be so direct. Shaking his head, he replied. “The rumors aren’t true. The script was given to me by my manager, and I even did a screen test.”

“Then why don’t you clarify? Do you know how much impact these rumors could have on you? It would be one thing if it were just about connections, but being called a mistress? That’s not just about having connections anymore.” Xia Wenru said, seemingly unphased by Yuan Xi’s words. Instead, she seemed puzzled as to why he hadn’t debunked the rumors yet.

She turned to look at Yuan Xi, her eyes filled with a soft, almost caring expression, as if she genuinely had his best interests at heart.

“In the entertainment industry, our reputation is everything, even more so than in other fields. If you mess up in an ordinary job, it’s just a small matter, a rumor here and there. But in this industry, it can seriously affect your future.”

Yuan Xi blinked, feeling a little uneasy about Xia Wenru’s apparent kindness. After all, the entertainment world wasn’t a clean place, and no one would help you for no reason. Even in a regular workplace, many relationships are based on mutual use, let alone in the chaotic and complicated entertainment industry.

So, despite her goodwill, Yuan Xi didn’t feel grateful or touched. Instead, he grew more cautious.

“I just haven’t found the right moment to clarify. It’s not that I don’t want to,” Yuan Xi said, running a hand through his hair, looking slightly embarrassed.

Xia Wenru smiled and handed the notebook back to him. “I hope you manage to resolve it. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. If you want to take down Qi Yunrou, I’d be more than happy to be your ally.”

Yuan Xi took the notebook, watching her retreating figure with a furrowed brow.

Does Xia Wenru have a grudge against Qi Yunrou?

Cheng Xiaoke noticed Xia Wenru’s interaction from a distance. As soon as the woman left, she rushed over to Yuan Xi, glancing around cautiously. “Brother Yuan, what did Xia Wenru want from you? Is she looking for trouble?”

Yuan Xi took a sip of his warm water and shook his head. “No, she just came to ask me to clarify the rumors. If they persist for too long, they’ll start to affect me. She also said… that if I need help, I can ask her.”

Cheng Xiaoke was surprised and glanced toward Xia Wenru’s retreating figure, her expression filled with skepticism. “Xia Wenru’s being so nice? I remember the online reviews about her aren’t exactly kind. This sudden show of goodwill definitely has something behind it!”

Yuan Xi smiled but didn’t respond. He wasn’t foolish enough to trust someone he didn’t know, especially when he didn’t have all the details.

Although Yuan Xi wasn’t good with interpersonal relationships, his experience with the darker side of the entertainment industry had made him wary. He was afraid of repeating past mistakes, worried that his lack of caution would lead to trouble.

“Look into whether Xia Wenru and Qi Yunrou have some kind of history. Be cautious, and once Brother Chen arrives, this will all be sorted out.”

After dismissing the topic of Xia Wenru, Yuan Xi picked up his notebook and continued jotting down his observations and thoughts as he watched others perform.

Liang Hao’s appearance was refined and handsome, with his character in With You for the Rest of My Life also being that of a well-mannered, charming man, though he had a bit of a rebellious streak. In front of Xia Xi, however, he transformed into the gentle older brother figure. The two extreme personalities required exceptional acting skills to maintain the role without it falling apart.

The female lead had a spoiled personality, but one that wasn’t annoying. She was a rich young lady, raised in a loving family, and her affluent upbringing and supportive parents had allowed her to live a comfortable, warm life. Her background shaped her willfulness, but her good upbringing also provided her with a sense of balance, making her spoiled, yet likable.

If this character was portrayed well, it could become a standout role. However, if performed poorly, it would just be a spoiled, bratty rich girl.

Liang Hao, being a trained actor who genuinely loves his craft, didn’t have any particular weaknesses when it came to acting. But Qi Yunrou…

Yuan Xi watched the scene unfold, and Qi Yunrou’s performance in this crying scene looked more like a farce. Her tears felt awkward, almost forced.

Crying scenes, like any other kind of performance, come in different levels. A skilled actor can convey deep sadness even with a neutral expression, using only their eyes. Actors with slightly lesser skills often rely on gestures or other techniques to compensate for their lack of emotional depth.

Regardless of acting ability, those with even a moderate level of skill usually end up crying for real.

But Qi Yunrou…

Yuan Xi observed as the assistant continuously dripped eye drops into her eyes, and for a brief moment, he found himself questioning how Qi Yunrou managed to land the role of the female lead.

How did someone with such poor acting skills become a rising star?

In just one crying scene, Qi Yunrou had already had over ten takes, each one failing to properly express the emotions required.

Yuan Xi couldn’t help but glance at the crowd of onlookers. Many of them looked at Qi Yunrou with a sense of disdain in their eyes.

“With You for the Rest of My Life ” was an urban drama, and most of the plot revolves around the male lead’s career and love life, so the details were somewhat limited.

Qi Yunrou’s acting can’t exactly be called bad, but it’s rather mediocre. The earlier scenes were relatively simple, so even though her acting was bland, it was passable and didn’t seem out of place.

However, crying scenes were different. They amplify the actor’s facial expressions, and the gap between good and bad acting becomes more apparent.

Yuan Xi, who had intended to observe and learn, quietly grabbed his notebook and stood up to leave when he noticed the director’s displeased expression.

Given how things were going today, it seemed unlikely that the scene would be completed.

=^_^=