Everyone was stunned. Drama within the crew wasn’t unusual, but this kind of “playing the victim” scene? That was a first.

“That performance? I can only give it a failing grade.”

“Agreed.”

“They used to say Comrade Xu’s acting was bad, but compared to Tang Yuan, he’s actually not that bad.”

Whispers spread among the crowd. A senior actor gave a live critique of Tang Yuan’s performance, while the actresses at the scene took the opportunity to engage in a thorough and very academic discussion on on-set drama.

Even Tang Yuan’s manager was left speechless. She hurried over and helped the actress—who was lying on the ground, clutching her face—up with a concerned tone.
“Yuan Yuan, are you alright?”

Cheng Youran: …………

Zhang Ping: …………

Everyone: …………

Suddenly, a deep, cold voice sounded from behind Cheng Youran.
“She’s not alright. In fact, I think it’s time we discussed terminating her contract.”

Cheng Youran turned around. The man in the charcoal gray suit, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, with sharp features and a piercing gaze—who else could it be but Lu Zixiao?

“President Lu, Yuan Yuan really didn’t mean it,” the manager said quickly, patting Tang Yuan’s back and looking up at Lu Zixiao. “She’s just having an off day. She kept messing up her takes, the sun was blazing this afternoon, and she got a bit dizzy.”

“Are you finished?”

Lu Zixiao’s voice was calm and indifferent.

“Y-yes… finished.”

Tang Yuan’s manager gave an awkward smile as she answered.

“If you’re done talking, then you can leave,” Lu Zixiao said coldly, shooting her a frosty glance.

Gao Qiao, who had been following behind Lu Zixiao, stepped forward and smiled politely at the manager.
“You’re Miss Tang’s agent, right? Please come with me.”

…

Wang Fei sat on the tour bus, noticeably less cheerful than before. The energy on the bus had dipped—everyone had hoped to take a photo with Yuan Yuan, but she never showed up.
All they got was a signed photo handed out by her manager.

“We probably went overboard and stole Cheng Youran’s spotlight,” the forum moderator sighed. “I heard that when she was filming with the Fenghua crew last time, only a handful of fans visited her on set. Meanwhile, we showed up with over twenty people. How could she not feel upset?”

Hearing this, Wang Fei stared at the disappearing skyline of Lín City and suddenly thought aloud,
“Wait… did we end up causing trouble for Yuan Yuan? Since the drama’s backed by the Lu Corporation, Cheng Youran might make things hard for her out of spite.”

“Not necessarily.”

A soft-spoken young man with glasses chimed in, “Cheng Youran’s not as bad as people say. I actually liked her more after that time she stood up for her fans.”

“You’re just a shut-in who plays video games all day. What do you know?” the moderator scoffed. “People like her have entire PR teams managing their image. Just her fake fans on Weibo alone are organized into nine separate chat groups. Everything you see is just a crafted persona.”

“Well, I don’t see it that way,” the young man replied calmly.

Sensing the tension rising in the bus, Wang Fei quickly changed the subject.
“Anyway… did you guys check in at the Weibo plaza today? I got up so early, I actually forgot.”

As he spoke, he opened Weibo—and then froze when he saw what was trending on the hot search list.

He suddenly jumped to his feet, but the swaying bus made it hard to keep his balance—he nearly fell, yet he clutched his phone tightly. His voice was bitter as he spoke:
“We shouldn’t have come… Yuan Yuan’s been dropped from the production.”

“You must’ve read it wrong.”

“Let me see—what the hell?! This can’t be real.”

“They think just because Yuan Yuan’s fans are quiet, she’s easy to bully? No way! Turn this bus around. We’re going back to the set. They owe us an explanation, and we’re not leaving until we get one!”

Someone shouted “Turn the bus around!” and the once disgruntled, low-energy bus suddenly fell into stunned silence.

The forum moderator coughed awkwardly. Truth be told, they were all just keyboard warriors—big on talk, not so much on action. Real-life confrontation wasn’t exactly their thing. He stepped up to calm the group:
“I’ve got Yuan Yuan’s manager’s number. Let me give her a call and find out what’s going on.”

He dialed four or five times before the call finally went through. On the other end, a woman’s irritated voice snapped:
“I’m swamped right now. Whatever it is, talk to me tomorrow. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait— Sister Li! I’m the head of Yuan Yuan’s fan club,” the moderator blurted out. “We just saw a post saying she was dropped from the project. Is it true?”

Why was everyone calling her about this? Tang Yuan’s manager felt another headache coming on. Her voice was hoarse with exhaustion as she replied,
“It was just a scheduling conflict. The contract was terminated normally. Can you please tell the fans to calm down and stop stirring things up on Weibo?”

Originally, Cheng Youran slapping a rookie on set would’ve made for a juicy headline. If Tang Yuan had played it right, she could’ve used the moment to step on Cheng Youran and climb her way up.

But instead, Tang Yuan got scared about messing up her face. Cheng Youran hadn’t even touched her, and she was already clutching her face, collapsing to the ground in tears.

And the whole thing was caught on camera.

Now, all the manager wanted was for the buzz to die down.

People act like they’ve never seen a contract termination before—Tang Yuan suspected of being dropped had already climbed to #6 on the trending list.

Just thinking about it made her scowl at the trembling Tang Yuan beside her. No wonder you’re not famous—you can’t even seize an opportunity handed to you on a silver platter.

Back on the bus, the moderator hung up the phone, his frustration boiling over.
“The manager says it was a scheduling conflict. Seriously—who believes that?”

The show had already started filming—and now they’re claiming a scheduling conflict? Who are they trying to fool? The moderator couldn’t help but feel bad for Yuan Yuan. She was clearly forced to terminate the contract, yet still had to take the blame herself.

“I’ve already seen people saying Tang Yuan’s getting cocky now that she’s popular. Shouldn’t the fan club post a statement on Weibo to clear things up?”

Wang Fei scrolled through the comments under the trending post about Tang Yuan’s contract termination. While most people suspected some sort of conflict between her and Cheng Youran, a smaller portion accused Tang Yuan of being a drama queen trying to steal the spotlight.

[@YanjunzeStrawberry]: Classic Cheng Youran. There’s never a dull moment when she’s around.
[@ICE]: Has Tang Yuan said anything yet? Starting to feel kinda bad for her.
[@DustyMist]: You clearly don’t know Tang Yuan. Her manager is ruthless—Tang’s career took off the moment she signed with her.

“Definitely Cheng Youran’s paid trolls,” the moderator declared with conviction, relying on his deep experience in fan circles to back up the claim.

Most of the people on the bus were core members of Tang Yuan’s fan club. After a brief discussion, they put together a 5,000-word post titled “As Tang Yuan’s Fans, We Have Something to Say About the Contract Termination.”

…

Tang Yuan was gone, but the show had to go on. Zhang Ping immediately rescheduled the afternoon scenes to the morning, and filming didn’t wrap up until nearly 1 p.m.

Lu Zixiao had been waiting for her the whole time. Without a word, he naturally draped his suit jacket over her shoulders.

“Can you promise me something?” Cheng Youran asked softly, pulling the jacket tighter around herself.

Lu Zixiao stopped walking and looked back at her. “Cheng Youran, when have I ever not kept a promise to you?”

“There’ve actually been… quite a few times.” Cheng Youran replied, perfectly deadpan.

Lu Zixiao gave a cool, indifferent “Oh,” his expression unreadable—neither angry nor pleased. His eyes held a lazy, disinterested look.

Cheng Youran cautiously ventured, “Can you… maybe stop watching me act from the sidelines?”

Ever since Lu Zixiao started showing up on set, Zhang Ping had completely changed his tone. He barely dared to breathe. If she flubbed a line, Zhang Ping claimed the script needed adjusting. If her movements were off, he called it “natural talent.”

If Cheng Youran didn’t still care about her craft and insist on retakes when things weren’t right, this entire shoot could’ve wrapped in ten days—forget a month.

“Why?” Lu Zixiao suddenly bent down, his fingers gently brushing through her hair. The laziness in his gaze vanished, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous. His long, narrow eyes locked onto hers.

“Is it because you want to spend time with another man?”

Another man?

Cheng Youran immediately realized he was talking about Yan Junze. She couldn’t blame him—Yan Junze was ridiculously good-looking.

Ever since he joined the cast, the male crew members had unofficially been divided into “Yan Junze” and “everyone else.” Lu Zixiao was clearly jealous of his looks.

“No, not at all,” Cheng Youran quickly shook her head. “Senior Yan barely talks, and we have nothing in common. When I’m around him, we can barely get a conversation going.”

Just as she finished speaking, Yan Junze happened to walk past her. Without stopping, he said coolly, “Nothing in common? Noted.”

Cheng Youran: I didn’t do anything!

[Your wife’s mood drops to 65%!]

Lu Zixiao raised an eyebrow, his right hand giving Cheng Youran’s head a quick pat. He let her go, then, with long strides, headed toward the car.

Cheng Youran: …He’s doing this on purpose!

As she walked toward the RV, she couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling in her chest. She pulled out her phone and sent a message to Yan Junze. He was probably really mad at her right now.

[Cheng Youran]: Senior Yan, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about you. I owe you an apology.

After a while, Yan Junze replied.

[Yan Junze]: Then teach me how to get past the next level.

Cheng Youran: …

Cheng Youran happily made plans with Yan Junze to take him to play Edge of Doom and finally felt a weight lifted from her heart as she headed toward the RV.

As soon as she stepped inside, the mouthwatering aroma of hot pot greeted her. She walked to the dining area, where a bubbling copper pot sat on the table, surrounded by an array of ingredients: tender beef slices, aged meat cuts, luncheon meat, and more.

[Your wife’s mood level has increased to 80!]

Lu Zixiao was seated at the table and spoke calmly, “I happened to be in the mood for hot pot.”

Cheng Youran was a little surprised. Given Lu Zixiao’s usual preference for light and bland food, it seemed unusual that he would suggest hot pot. But hunger had dulled her curiosity, and she smiled, “Great minds think alike.”

As she ate, she casually scrolled through Weibo. The moment she opened it, she noticed her name prominently featured on the trending list.

— Cheng Youran accused of bullying newcomers.

The top-liked Weibo post was a lengthy one shared by the official fan club of Tang Yuan, titled “As Fans of Tang Yuan, We Have Something to Say About the Contract Termination.”

Cheng Youran patiently read the entire post. The author had a way with words, skillfully tugging at heartstrings, and many of the comments said they had been moved to tears.

[Blueberry]: Sigh, it’s tough being a fan of a small idol.
[Red Bean Double Pudding]: Is Cheng Youran still pretending to be dead? Things have blown up this much, and she still doesn’t dare come out and apologize?
[Garlic Noodles]: This feels genuine. Doesn’t seem like bots. When will the toxic trends in the entertainment industry finally stop?

Cheng Youran sighed. It looked like the fans were so fed up they practically wished their idol’s career would crash faster. She had initially planned to let things cool down on their own, but it seemed that wouldn’t be enough anymore.

With that, she uploaded the video of Tang Yuan using her alternate account on Weibo.

[Alt Account]: Here’s the truth you’ve all been waiting for about the contract termination (video).

After posting the video, Cheng Youran focused on eating. Noticing that Lu Zixiao had barely touched his food, she asked curiously, “Didn’t you say you wanted hot pot? Why aren’t you eating?”

Lu Zixiao remained silent. Worried that he might not be able to reach the food, Cheng Youran picked up some slices of beef, cucumber, and lettuce and placed them in his bowl.

“The beef is really tasty, and boiled cucumber slices are surprisingly good too. Give it a try!”

Lu Zixiao lowered his gaze to his bowl, now overflowing with spicy, oily food. He was about to refuse, but when he looked up, he met Cheng Youran’s expectant, eager eyes.

In silence, he ate it all.

…

Wang Fei’s school was located in a remote suburban area. By the time he got back, it was already past 1 a.m. The moment he entered his dorm room, he headed straight for his desk and powered up his laptop.

The forum moderator had sternly reminded them during the car ride that Cheng Youran had nine groups of internet trolls working for her, which meant they needed to stay vigilant and fight tirelessly on the frontlines of this online “flood.”

As he booted up his computer, Wang Fei logged into both QQ and Weibo simultaneously, ready for action.

As soon as Wang Fei logged into QQ, system notifications began flooding the chat.

[Slideshow has left the Tang Yuan Fan Club group.]
[Big Willow Tree has left the Tang Yuan Fan Club group.]
[Your Little Cutie has left the Tang Yuan Fan Club group.]
…

Watching more and more people leave, Wang Fei grew increasingly uneasy as the group’s member count dropped from 4,200 to just 1,800.

He was about to message the forum moderator when he noticed the mod had just posted an update.

[Linzhou Old Chen]: Never getting emotionally invested in stanning anyone again. Aren’t games more fun? Hit me up for PUBG, don’t bother me otherwise.

What on earth was going on?

Wang Fei was thoroughly bewildered.

=^_^=

Author has something to say:

Reporter: What’s the most memorable thing your husband has ever done?

Cheng Youran: When I was filming on set, he came over to have hot pot with me.

Reported: Because it was a sweet surprise?

Cheng Youran: No, because he ended up in the hospital the next day.

Reporter: …