CHAPTER 34 (PART 2)

What she didn’t know was that Cheng Yue had originally been too busy to care, and his interest in Jiang Su was nothing more than an occasional moment of curiosity.

But after Dong Jiayu repeatedly emphasized it—

And even dragged Zhao Qiuying into it—

Now, that discomfort was firmly lodged in Cheng Yue’s mind.

He absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the table and asked, “Now that the show is over and the group has formed, what are they supposed to do?”

The secretary replied, “There’ll be more group variety shows, album releases, acting gigs, commercials… endorsements, things like that.”

Cheng Yue found it all rather tedious and rephrased his question, “What is Jiang Su doing tomorrow?”

The secretary froze.

How would he know that? But a good secretary should always be able to anticipate their boss’s needs! So he immediately turned to make a call to find out.

“Forget it.” Cheng Yue stopped him and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts.

It was a number he had saved a long time ago—Jiang Su’s number.

He dialed.

“Sorry, the number you are calling is currently unavailable.”

The irritation in Cheng Yue’s chest spiked instantly.

Meanwhile, someone had taken a photo of Dong Jiayu looking helpless and teary-eyed, boldly uploading it online.

Jiang Su took a quick glance.

Oh, she really did look quite haggard.

So different from the high-and-mighty image stored in the original host’s memories.

Though, to be honest, even back then, Jiang Su never thought she was that impressive.

Dong Jiayu couldn’t even kill someone without dithering endlessly.

To Jiang Su, she wasn’t even worth taking seriously.

Setting her phone aside, Jiang Su took the warm water that Xu Dazhi handed over. “Are the promotional photos done?”

Jiang Su nodded. “Mhm.”

“Shooting officially starts soon, don’t be too nervous—”

“Not nervous.”

Xu Dazhi didn’t believe her and started rambling about all sorts of things to keep in mind while filming.

In recent years, idol-turned-actors had been heavily criticized by audiences. But it was an inevitable result of industry capital—once idols reached a certain point, they had to step into the acting world. Xu Dazhi didn’t want Jiang Su to be scolded like them, so he couldn’t help but nag her a little more.

Jiang Su sucked on her straw lazily.

But… this kind of distrust felt different. It wasn’t like the skepticism from her old organization, nor the doubt from the audience when she first joined the show.

Humans really were complicated creatures.

Jiang Su sat there, listening absentmindedly to Xu Dazhi’s chatter—

Until Zhao Qiuying arrived on set.

He didn’t come straight to Jiang Su.

Instead, he met with Xuan Wen first, and then the two of them walked over together.

Seeing this, Feng Jing couldn’t help but ask her manager in surprise, “Since when did mentors and trainees get this close in these survival shows?”

“It’s all just an act. All that talk about team spirit and student-teacher bonds—it’s just for the fans. Making money off their sentimentality.” The manager didn’t seem to care much.

As soon as he finished speaking, they heard Zhao Qiuying’s unhurried voice, accompanied by a slight smile. “I brought a food truck over. There are some fruits, milk tea, and snacks—everyone can help themselves.”

A staff member couldn’t help but exclaim, “Is this to support President Xuan?”

Zhao Qiuying placed the small desserts he was holding in front of Jiang Su and replied, “For President Xuan and Jiang Su.” He paused, then added, “I have to take care of my student.”

The staff chuckled at his words, commenting, “What a great relationship!”

They quickly turned to get food from the truck, only to realize—this wasn’t just some simple “snacks.” Every box was labeled with Autumn Moon Pavilion.

It turned out these were handcrafted dishes made by the head chef of one of Beijing’s most famous private dining restaurants.

Everyone couldn’t help but marvel at Zhao Qiuying’s wealth while snapping photos to post online.

Feng Jing sighed, “Traffic stars are really loaded.”

The manager hesitated before saying, “Not necessarily. I heard Zhao Qiuying’s older brother runs a company.”

“There are plenty of company owners who don’t make as much as celebrities.” Feng Jing shrugged, then turned back to see Xuan Wen sitting down next to Jiang Su.

“Want to run lines?” Xuan Wen asked. His usually cold expression softened a little, and he seemed to find his own words amusing. The corners of his lips curved as he added, “I mean… I’ve only just gotten a solid foothold in this industry myself. I can teach, but the question is—do you dare to learn?”

Among traffic stars, Xuan Wen was one of the few who had successfully transitioned into serious acting.

Compared to him, Zhao Qiuying truly had no acting skills to speak of, so he could only sit and watch as Xuan Wen guided Jiang Su.

Jiang Su said calmly, “I dare.”

What was there to be afraid of?

Most of the others were formally trained actors, and their experiences might not even be fully applicable to her.

Hearing her response, a glint of amusement flashed through Xuan Wen’s eyes. He picked up the script and started running lines with her.

Zhao Qiuying sat quietly on the side, listening.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind—he didn’t want to be an entertainer anymore.

Xu Dazhi had no idea what was going through Zhao Qiuying’s head. He was just thinking that the show had actually assembled a solid panel of mentors.

He picked up his phone, snapped a picture, and posted it on Weibo.

@SJYL Xu Dazhi: Class is in session with the mentors. [Image]

Fans immediately swarmed in.

[Hahaha, W should probably skip teaching. Even shooting an MV is a struggle for him.]

[This is seriously the best mentor-student atmosphere I’ve ever seen.]

[+1! Hope the Sun and Moon Girl Group and the mentor team stay close forever!]

People who saw this Weibo post had various reactions.

The production team thought, Nice, they really know how to market themselves.

Ding Xuan was fuming. Zhao Qiuying actually managed to turn his favoritism toward Jiang Su into something so openly justified! These fans… they don’t know a thing…

Meanwhile, someone else was also looking at the post while on their way back to Beijing.

Yan Yucheng scrolled through Weibo and muttered, “…Looks like I missed a lot of interesting things.”

His assistant chimed in, “You sure did. Three of the ‘Three Gold’ projects successfully formed groups all at once—every other company is jealous. On the night of the finals, the votes skyrocketed. You should’ve seen it—the CEO of Cheng Group even showed up personally to present an award to Jiang Su. That’s got to be the biggest honor in history, right? No one before or after will ever get such a privilege…” The assistant spoke with excitement written all over his face.

Yan Yucheng raised a brow. “The CEO of Cheng Group?”

“Yes.”

“Apparently, Jiang Su played a funeral tune for Cheng Yue that night… No idea why. It kind of looked like they had some sort of grudge,” the assistant speculated, then shook his head. “But what kind of conflict could exist between two people who are so unrelated? It was probably just for show.”

Yan Yucheng let out a low hum.

After a pause, he said, “Let’s visit the Winds Rising set first.”

To be honest, given Jiang Su’s outwardly fragile but inherently bold and untamed nature, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had a few enemies.

The assistant was taken aback. “Aren’t we heading to the Yan family first?”

“No.”

Winds Rising was the name of the xianxia drama Jiang Su was filming.

By the time Yan Yucheng arrived on set, Xuan Wen was still running lines with Jiang Su.

Jiang Su lifted her gaze—her expression was cold, but the words that left her lips carried a hint of tenderness: “Senior Brother, whatever you like, I will find it for you.”

Yan Yucheng felt a sudden tightness in his chest, his heartbeat skipping for a moment.

Only after seeing their costumes did he suppress his initial shock. But even so, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a soft, amused sigh.

Hearing those words from Jiang Su, no matter the tone, always seemed to carry an irresistible allure.

She’s going to be the death of me.

“Jiang Su.” Yan Yucheng spoke.

Jiang Su paused her scene and looked up. “Hm? Mr. Yan.”

The crew had also noticed the commotion. Soon, Wang Shaojun personally came over to greet him.

“I’m just here to check on our company’s artist,” Yan Yucheng said casually, tilting his chin slightly.

The staff members exchanged glances, each lost in thought.

As expected, Jiang Su is a hot commodity—a true moneymaker. Even the big boss came to visit her in person. There’s no doubt now—she’s going to be the company’s next top priority. We’d better not underestimate her.

Feng Jing also recognized Yan Yucheng and was momentarily stunned. “That’s the young master of the Yan family?”

The manager responded, “Yeah. The last CEO was someone surnamed Sun.” His expression turned slightly serious. “It’s never a good sign when a wealthy heir takes such an interest in a subordinate artist. He might just be here to back Jiang Su.”

Feng Jing had been quite popular over the past two years and had attended many high-profile gatherings, so she had heard her fair share of upper-class gossip. She pursed her lips and said, “That’s not necessarily an issue. I’ve heard that this Young Master Yan isn’t particularly favored in the Yan family and may not hold much real power.”

Her manager clicked his tongue. “Then why is Director Wang being so enthusiastic? He must have better intel than us. Maybe this Young Master Yan’s status at home has changed.”

Feng Jing’s expression turned serious.

Wang Shaojun had someone bring over a chair and sat down beside them.

Noticing that Xuan Wen was running lines with Jiang Su, he praised them politely, “Young people these days have a lot of ideas. They take acting seriously and aren’t afraid of playing unattractive roles.”

Both Yan Yucheng and Zhao Qiuying visibly tensed at his words.

“Unattractive roles?” They spoke in unison.

Wang Shaojun was startled by their reaction and quickly explained, “Yeah, originally, this character was meant to die early, just to pull at the audience’s heartstrings. But now… uh, it’s been turned into a villain role.”

Yan Yucheng and Zhao Qiuying frowned almost simultaneously.

Wang Shaojun could feel the sudden shift in atmosphere.

At that moment, Cheng Yue’s car arrived nearby.

His secretary asked, “Should we go in directly?”

Though Cheng Yue was a notorious bastard with a screw loose, he at least understood that a high-profile businessman showing up unannounced for a newly debuted female idol—especially during her career’s rising phase—would only lead to unsavory rumors.

He lowered the car window slightly. “Who’s that?”

The secretary hesitated, unsure who specifically he was asking about, so he reported all the names in one go: “Director Wang Shaojun, Xuan Wen—the male lead and a mentor from the survival show, Zhao Qiuying, Miss Jiang’s manager Xu Dazhi, and… oh, that’s the current head of Sanjin Entertainment, the young master of the Yan family, Yan Yucheng.”

Cheng Yue’s brows furrowed slightly.

Yan Yucheng?

Never heard of him.

“He’s just walking up to Jiang Su like that?” Cheng Yue scoffed. “Does he not realize he’s dragging her into scandalous rumors?”

What an idiot.

Secretary: “?”

The secretary hesitated before reminding him, “He’s Miss Jiang’s boss.”

Cheng Yue: “…”

Cheng Yue: “What’s her boss doing here?”

The secretary was just as confused. What are you doing here then? But he wisely chose not to ask.

Cheng Yue instructed, “Go get Jiang Su and bring her here.”

The secretary nodded and stepped out of the car.

Meanwhile, Jiang Su was saying, “Playing a villain is great. I like it.”

No one else believed her.

Villain roles were tricky—if your performance was weak, the audience would criticize your poor acting. If you did too well, some people would take it personally, claiming you must be just as sinister in real life to portray the role so convincingly.

Male actors had it easier. As long as they were attractive, the industry tended to favor them. Even when playing major villains, they could still be praised as charismatic and captivating.

Of course, some of this was due to scriptwriting.

Male villains were usually ruthless and goal-driven, unyielding in their pursuits, willing to kill anyone who stood in their way.

Female villains, on the other hand, were often written as scorned lovers driven by heartbreak.

The comparison was unfair. It made female villains seem weaker in contrast. If the actress playing one had striking features, she would almost certainly get torn apart by the public and end up trending for the wrong reasons.

Yan Yucheng pressed his lips together tightly. He assumed Jiang Su had accepted the role out of necessity and refrained from saying anything in front of the director.

Zhao Qiuying, on the other hand, felt an even stronger urge to leave the industry altogether.

Wang Shaojun, sensing the tension, quickly added, “Actually, this character is quite interesting.”