CHAPTER 24: Severed

Gu Sheng said coolly to the system, “I’ve got you figured out.”

The CP system was a CP system through and through—calculating and thrifty. After all, she hadn’t truly paid any real cost, so the system’s generated rewards always ultimately served the purpose of boosting the CP.

Even the last “Fortune Boost” looked like she just got lucky and won five thousand yuan, but in the end, it still benefited her and Wen Heng during the housing selection.

Gu Sheng hugged her script and gazed into the distance. “Let’s see what other tricks you’ve got.”

The system howled: “On the path of becoming a perfect CP, this system’s tricks will never end!!”

Gu Sheng: Heh.

…

Thanks to that level-12 labor pain simulation last time, Wen Heng’s physical condition had been excellent for several days.

Clearly, he was a workaholic too—extremely focused on his projects. After finishing daily gigs and returning to Huating, he’d go over Retrace scenes with Gu Sheng, which helped her own understanding of the script improve by leaps and bounds.

Honestly, being taught everything by a triple-golden movie king was worthy of the label “super insightful coaching.”

Back in school, Gu Sheng’s teacher had told her that what would take her to the top of the television world wasn’t just her acting skills—it was her intelligence. She could seize every opportunity. But if she wanted to break into film, to pass the test of the big screen, acting alone wouldn’t be enough.

Gu Sheng had always been someone with few attachments—emotionally reserved—which made her empathy a bit weaker. In terms of people and relationships, she was laid-back, carefree, and a bit detached.

But as their conversations deepened, Gu Sheng began to sense something subtle in Wen Heng, this film veteran.

Wen Heng had a very strong sense of empathy for the characters. He hadn’t made it this far in the film industry on looks alone. His understanding of a character’s fate, his emotional resonance with their stories—these were what made every role he played stick in the audience’s mind, like an unforgettable first love.

Gu Sheng was genuinely learning.

Wen Heng, watching from the side, also had a clearer assessment of her skills: If she didn’t already have years of acting experience under her belt, then Gu Sheng was simply a genius.

And Gu Sheng herself thought—she was a genius!

She memorized lines freakishly fast. After these past few days, she had the entire script down cold. No matter what line Wen Heng threw at her, she could instantly slip into Li Shuang’s mindset, pour her emotions into it, and deliver the performance.

That night, after practicing until her throat was dry, Gu Sheng finally set the script down with satisfaction.

Wen Heng looked at her half-lidded peach blossom eyes, as if he could see the frost in Li Shuang’s hair.

He handed her a cup of water, eyes downcast and focused. After a pause, he said, “…So, you probably shouldn’t do that v project.”

Gu Sheng was still lost in her reflections on Retrace and didn’t follow his train of thought. “—Huh?”

Why bring up the v project out of nowhere?

She hadn’t even decided whether to do it—Fu Shan had just mentioned it casually that day.

Wen Heng tapped the script, implying something. “It’d be such a waste of talent.”

Then he got up and walked away, leaving Gu Sheng to digest it herself.

Gu Sheng: “?”

She couldn’t tell—was this jerk being sarcastic toward Fu Shan, or sarcastic toward her??

Just as Wen Heng headed upstairs, both of them heard the familiar beep beep— sound in their ears.

Gu Sheng: Same old formula, same old flavor.

If it hadn’t made a sound, she’d almost think Wen Heng was a normal person.

Upstairs:

“23: Mild headache. Pain level: 4.”

“Pain relief duration: 3 minutes.”

The Time Vial hadn’t been upgraded to a full three minutes yet, but Wen Heng came back to his senses, massaged his temples, and decided to endure it.

It was just a small ache—no need to use a transfer card. Besides, he hadn’t thought of a suitable target yet.

The system was already standing in awe of his pain tolerance: “You are truly strong.”

Wen Heng was silent for a moment. “…It’s not like I want to be.”

Life leaves no choice.

The news about the Suhui auditions had already spread across all the major talent agencies.

Jialai’s President Zhao had reached out to Chang Yan multiple times, but was politely turned down each time. Zhao wanted to get idols like Yu Shanbei into the production to make money, but in the end, they had no choice but to obediently show up for auditions. Thankfully, the casting director of Suhui had a decent relationship with them, so there was still a chance.

Song Qingzhi hadn’t heard from screenwriter Liu recently, and had no choice but to squeeze in practice time between her packed schedule. That idiot Qin Tian even offered to rehearse scenes with her—please, did he even know what level he was at? The kind of shows he’d filmed? He’d probably be stuck as a second-tier actor for life.

Too many people had their eyes on the female lead of Suhui. A few days later, she ran into her rival Jin Yueyao at a brand event. They had both started out as second-tier actresses and were about the same age, but Jin Yueyao had skyrocketed last year thanks to a hit drama. She’d leapt into the A-list, even snatched up the ambassador title for luxury brand G, completely leaving Song Qingzhi behind.

When they met, they still greeted each other politely, but everything about Jin Yueyao—from the arch of her brows to the tilt of her chin—radiated a veteran’s air. Their managers knew each other too, and both sides were well aware that the other was eyeing Suhui’s lead role. This chance encounter naturally turned into mutual probing.

Song Qingzhi was the first to play the sympathy card. “My agent’s been forcing me to read Suhui’s script. It’s so angsty, it’s giving me liver pain. I don’t even feel like auditioning anymore—like I’d stand a chance anyway.”

Jin Yueyao smiled. Like she didn’t know what Song Qingzhi was really like? Who knew how hard she was grinding in secret. Jin herself had been working overtime with acting coaches these past few days, all in hopes of landing the lead.

Song Qingzhi had joined The Four Laws of Happiness not long after Wen Heng’s official announcement, partly to stir up CP buzz for exposure, and of course partly to get close to Wen Heng in hopes of licking the Suhui pie.

But clearly, that didn’t work out for her.

“Effort is everything. Scripts like this need to be studied carefully,” Jin Yueyao said, smiling like a senior offering guidance.

Song Qingzhi bit her lip in secret, then thought of something and quietly added, “Oh right, Yueyao-jie, did you hear Wen-laoshi’s wife is also auditioning for the lead?”

“I heard,” Jin Yueyao let out a light laugh. “Bold of her.”

Back when Wen Heng announced the reality show, Jin Yueyao had already pegged Gu Sheng as someone lacking in brains—joining a dating show was basically asking for it.

At the time of Wen Heng’s announcement, even her own agency had asked whether she wanted to find a partner and go on the show too. With Wen Heng’s guaranteed traffic and Gu Sheng being such a polarizing figure, the show’s popularity was all but guaranteed. But she’d just gotten in with the upper brass at Wen Group and didn’t want to risk angering them, so she turned the idea down. With a big backer like that, she had no worries about future resources.

Now, Gu Sheng hadn’t been universally hated as expected. She hadn’t flopped into obscurity—in fact, she was bold enough to dream of the female lead in a major IP drama? No qualifications, no solid work, not even professionally trained. The so-called acting skills hyped up online were probably just a flash in the pan. Who even knew if she could pull off a fantasy costume look? She was bound to get smacked by reality at the audition.

“People get a taste of fame and their ego inflates. Riding CP hype for traffic and now she wants to grab film and drama resources too. Ugh. Honestly, anyone dares call themselves an actor these days.”

Quite a few small-time actresses nearby chimed in in agreement, as if all the problems in the industry could be blamed on people like Gu Sheng.

Hearing them mock Gu Sheng made Song Qingzhi secretly thrilled. Her resentment toward Jin Yueyao even eased a little. “Yueyao-jie, you nailed it!”

But… Jin Yueyao smiled faintly. Capital had already started getting annoyed with Gu Sheng’s shamelessness.

That night, when Jin Yueyao got home and saw Li Muze, she giggled sweetly, “I got the person you wanted. So when are you taking me to a Wen Group party~?”

She’d been with Li Muze for a while. The man was rich and generous, sure, but he’d never taken her into the Wen Group’s inner circle.

“I’ll take you when the chance comes!” Li Muze wasn’t stupid—why would he bring his mistress to Wen Group events? He coaxed her, “That Chaoseason haute couture you wanted is already in your closet. Go try it on later.”

Jin Yueyao snuggled up to him with a coy pout.

Soon, the two were tangled up again.

Li Muze, panting, said, “If you try a little harder, give me a son…”

Jin Yueyao scratched him playfully. “Ugh, stop. I’m still in the peak of my career~”

After their little session of affection—

Jin Yueyao remembered something and asked gleefully, “So what are you planning to do with Gu Sheng’s ex?”

Li Muze wrapped his arm around her with a greasy grin. “Don’t rush, baby. Wait for the right moment.”

…

The third full episode of The Four Laws of Happiness dropped as scheduled.

The leads hadn’t posted anything for days, not even a single Weibo update. Fans, starved for content, eagerly flocked to the episode the moment it aired. As always, the editing team served up all the highlights, with none of the viral sugar moments missing. Especially the explosively popular “Couple’s Night” segment—the contrast between the different couples made for great TV. Of course, the producers had used Wen Heng’s now-iconic spicy line as the dramatic peak.

At the end of the episode, there was a follow-up interview with each couple.

The assistant director, a hardcore WenSheng CP fan, was practically glowing as she interviewed Wen Heng and Gu Sheng.

Her first question: “How do you both feel about your CP becoming such a huge hit?”

Gu Sheng raised an eyebrow at the camera. Truthfully, she didn’t have much of a concept of her CP with Wen Heng blowing up. After all, she never actively searched for “WenSheng Couple” content. Most of the messages, comments, and fans she personally interacted with were still from Echo.

She figured the assistant director’s wording was exaggerated to fit the romance show’s vibe.

So Gu Sheng answered honestly, “I don’t really have a sense of it.”

Wen Heng glanced at her and said, “I think it’s great.”

…Some of his hardships had been reinterpreted beautifully by the audience. That was kind of nice.

The assistant director, visibly excited, asked, “Then have either of you read any CP fanfiction or seen the fan edits or art?”

Gu Sheng looked completely confused, while Wen Heng’s expression shifted ever so slightly.

This subtle expression naturally didn’t escape the audience’s microscope:

[Wen-shen definitely watched it, hahaha!]
[Look at Gu Sheng’s completely clueless face, hahaha!]

Wen Heng wasn’t good at lying. He gave a light cough and said, “I’ve heard a bit about it.”

Gu Sheng immediately turned her head toward him in shock, her expression practically shouting: You secretly watched this kind of thing behind my back?!

[Hahaha they didn’t sync their stories at all!]
[Wen-shen, how could you secretly watch behind your wife’s back! Spill it! What did you watch?!]
[CP fans incoming! CP fans declare that the hottest right now is The Film Emperor’s Deep Fiery Love! Wen-ge definitely watched it, aaaaaaah!]

Wen Heng’s ears turned slightly warm, but his expression remained calm as he gently turned Gu Sheng’s head back forward.

Across from them, the assistant director had a face full of I’m shipping this to death. After a few coughs, he finally asked, “Then after marriage, do Wen-laoshi and Gu-laoshi feel like you’re in love?”

Wen Heng turned to look at Gu Sheng.

Gu Sheng also gave him a glance.

“Can’t really say it feels like being in love,” Gu Sheng faced the camera, paused for a beat, then said, “Wen-laoshi probably feels like he’s in purgatory.”

Wen Heng: “?”

[Hahahaha Gu Sheng what nonsense are you saying!]
[Purgatory?! Please stop being a comedy queen!]

After tossing out the punchline, Gu Sheng solemnly explained, “Recently, Wen-laoshi has helped me a lot. It’s been hard on him.”

The assistant director instantly understood, inwardly crying Wen-shen really loves Gu Sheng! Ahhh!!

The audience picked up on the subtext immediately.

[What? What? Does that mean there’ll be work collaborations?!]
[Aaaaah I’m so looking forward to it! If they’re working together, they’ll be glued to each other every day!]
[WenSheng, lock it in! Together! Now!]

—

The third episode raked in another wave of popularity.

Once again, Teacher Gu Sheng trended on the hot search with the line: #Wen-laoshi probably feels like he’s in purgatory#

At first, CP fans were happily celebrating, making sticker packs of Gu Sheng and Wen Heng with all their memorable quotes, sharing them gleefully. Even their solo stans couldn’t help saving a bunch.

But not long after, a Weibo post quietly surfaced—and then skyrocketed in popularity.

The account belonged to someone named Chen Yijun, a small-time has-been actor with a million bot followers. He looked decent enough and claimed to be the ex-boyfriend of a certain currently-popular CP’s female half. He alleged that she fell for her now-husband because of his looks, pursued him relentlessly, and eventually succeeded in marrying him through a contract. At the time, she hadn’t yet broken up with Chen Yijun, which made it a case of cheating. She was arrogant and even threatened to use her connections to blacklist him!

This vague and suggestive description stopped just short of directly naming Gu Sheng.

If it had just been an unsupported post, it wouldn’t have made waves. But the actor also attached screenshots of chat logs—one of which actually included Gu Sheng saying something like “blacklist you.”

Right now, the WenSheng CP was at its peak, so this scandal landed like a rock in a pond, with crowds of onlookers quickly gathering.

After the incident broke, the management teams of rivals like Song Qingzhi and Jiang Luwei sensed a golden opportunity and quickly deployed paid commenters to stir things up:

[I was starting to change my opinion of Gu Sheng from the show, but it turns out she was just pretending.]
[Wen-shen, please be careful of the person sleeping next to you. I really don’t want to see you fooled by a woman like this.]
 [Sigh, I’m so disappointed. Unfollowing, unfollowing.]
[Confirmed bad relationship—no more shipping.]