Chapter 3: They’re All My Simps

——

【There’s a role for the fourth female lead in a historical web drama the day after tomorrow. Get ready—I’ll take you to the audition.】

Lu Hui reached out to turn on the living room light just as she received a WeChat message from her manager, Lin Tong.

Two seconds later, she lowered her head and quickly typed out a reply: 【What time?】

As soon as she responded, Lin Tong called. The moment the call connected, his irritated voice came through, practically spitting through the screen.

“Oh wow, finally willing to reply to my messages? When you said you were going to disappear, you really vanished for a whole month! Do you have any idea how many audition opportunities you lost?”

Lu Hui chuckled. “Lin-ge, I’ve been busy lately.”

Lin Tong, fuming like a fire-breathing dragon, snapped, “When are you ever not busy? Honestly, this role’s pay is just a few thousand yuan—I wasn’t even going to bother letting you audition.”

Lu Hui quickly cut him off before he could change his mind. “Lin-ge, I’m not picky.”

Lin Tong had been managing her for almost half a year now, and he knew her well enough—she’d take any job that paid, play any role that was offered.

He had signed Lu Hui because she was beautiful. Her bone structure was exquisite, her eyes carried a breathtaking, soul-stealing charm. A face like hers—it had to get famous. It would be a crime if it didn’t.

And yet, Lin Tong had been completely and utterly proven wrong.

Her acting was mediocre at best, and she had the uncanny ability to bring down any project she touched. In the two web dramas where she had barely made an appearance, she was torn to shreds by fan communities. Those dramas had flopped so hard they didn’t even make a ripple.

When a stone is tossed into a lake, at least it makes a splash. But her two dramas? Nothing. Investors lost money, platforms suffered losses, some people feigned illness to escape responsibility, while others outright cursed the actors.

After enduring repeated blows, Lin Tong had come to terms with the truth: Lu Hui was a lost cause. He had misjudged her completely. She never had any talent for acting, and by the looks of it, she never would. There was no way she would ever get famous.

So, what else could they do? Keep auditioning for roles, running around sets, and taking background parts just to survive.

After all, Lu Hui was the first artist he had signed. He couldn’t just leave her at home to rot.

Because of her constant scandals, Lin Tong had been ridiculed by company executives and colleagues more times than he could count. Every time they had their weekly or monthly meetings, he would be laughed at so much he could barely lift his head.

This audition? He wasn’t expecting much. But given the entertainment industry’s slump, even a small web drama’s fourth female lead was a hot commodity. Competition was brutal—actors who were prettier and more skilled, or those with better public image and connections, all had a better shot than her.

Lin Tong, with his easygoing nature and chubby build, was just taking Lu Hui for the experience.

What he didn’t know was that after being “disciplined” by the novel-transmigration system, Lu Hui’s acting skills had become god-tier. She could pull off an award-worthy performance in a heartbeat.

Lin Tong sighed. “Huihui, you’ve been lying low for two months now. The hate against you has finally died down a bit. Promise me, just try not to cause trouble in the future, okay?”

Lu Hui fell into deep thought. This is so unfair—I’ve never deliberately stirred up drama.

“Got it, Lin-ge.”

Lin Tong was relieved. “Good. Just keep a calm mindset for the audition. It’s normal if you don’t get the role—if you do, that’s just a bonus.”

Lu Hui slipped on her slippers and walked to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. “Understood, Lin-ge.”

“Alright, I’ll let you rest.”

Hanging up, Lin Tong felt like an exhausted father finally seeing hope for his rebellious child.

—

That sense of relief lasted for exactly two days before Lu Hui made the news again.

She was caught in the same frame as Sheng Zhaoming by paparazzi outside her apartment complex. The tension between them at that moment had been electric, but in the photos, it looked like something entirely different.

A carefully angled shot made it seem like their bodies were close—so close that they were just a second away from kissing.

A nobody like Lu Hui, who wasn’t even recognizable to the general public, wouldn’t normally be worth a paparazzi stakeout. The real target was Sheng Zhaoming, the crown prince of the Sheng family.

The paparazzi had been tailing him for half a month, undetected. Their patience finally paid off—they captured a photo of the alleged mistress.

As soon as the photo went viral, heated debates erupted online.

With solid photographic evidence, the court of public opinion was overwhelmingly against her.

Scrolling through Weibo, there wasn’t a single positive comment about her.

“Uh… who is this C-list actress?”

“Told you! Xue’er was totally shading her last time for stealing her boyfriend! Now there’s actual proof! I wonder if Lu Hui will stick to her shameless act and insist Sheng Zhaoming is her brother again.”

“So many people are fighting over the Sheng family’s young master? Damn.”

“FYI, the Sheng family is crazy rich. They might not be as public as the richest tycoon, but they’re definitely on that level. Forget marrying in—even becoming a mistress would be like winning the lottery.”

“I don’t even know who she is, but one thing’s for sure—homewreckers deserve to die.”

“The best thing that could happen to Lu Hui is getting beaten up by the wife in broad daylight.”

The entertainment industry had been quiet lately, so this minor scandal made decent waves. Gossip-loving netizens and even some small-time celebrities eagerly joined the discussion.

Lin Tong nearly gouged his own eyes out when he saw the news. How is this happening again? Is the whole Sheng Zhaoming situation cursed?

A media outlet reached out to Sheng Zhaoming for comment. The famously temperamental young master only gave three words: “Don’t bother me.”

Undeterred, reporters pressed further.

“Last time, Miss Lu said you two were siblings. Is that true or not?”

Sheng Zhaoming didn’t even hesitate. “False. She made that up.”

Tabloid journalists instantly switched targets and called Lu Hui instead.

Lin Tong urged her to stay quiet—just act like she was dead. If she kept her head down, the storm would pass.

Lu Hui, remembering how her previous “He’s my brother” excuse had backfired spectacularly, decided to switch tactics.

When a reporter finally got her on the phone, she calmly stated, “Oh, Sheng Zhaoming? He’s my simp.”

The seasoned journalist was stunned. “???”

Lu Hui’s expression was pure and innocent. “But don’t worry, I never agreed to date him.”

The reporter: “……”

The live interview’s comment section exploded with question marks and ellipses. Even veteran gossip enthusiasts were utterly speechless.

Where was the sob story? The tearful apology? The weak denial?

How did this turn into an outright flex?

Such a shameless level of confidence was truly rare.

And yet… some people actually found it hilarious. Her deadpan humor was far more entertaining than a typical pity act.

—

The next day, Lu Hui arrived at the audition.

It was snowing in Beijing.

The casting team was already exhausted from interviewing over a dozen actresses, none of whom were satisfactory.

Just as the director was about to call it a day, someone announced, “Next up, Lu Hui.”

A few seconds later, she walked in, bowed politely, and introduced herself.

“Hello, Director. I’m Lu Hui.”