Chapter 2: Gossip System

The next morning, after waking up, Jiang Shuwan felt a little strange.

She vaguely remembered having a weird dream the night before—something about gossip, something about a system—it made no sense at all.

But on second thought, she figured it was normal. What dream wasn’t weird? She’d even dreamed once that her advisor had turned into a lab mouse and gnawed through all the test tubes with a crunching sound.

So, she quickly brushed it off and didn’t dwell on it. After washing up, she headed straight to the hotel’s buffet restaurant for breakfast.

The hotel had been entirely booked out by the Prince Regent film crew—well, except for the suite she was staying in. As an unknown background actress, the crew certainly wasn’t covering her accommodations.

By this time, the buffet was already quite crowded. Jiang Shuwan grabbed a tray and made a round before finally picking just a boiled egg, a brown sugar cake, and a cup of soy milk.

She was a picky eater and especially had a poor appetite in the mornings, so she always ate lightly for breakfast.

After getting her food, Jiang Shuwan looked around and noticed that the only empty seats left were in the corner by the wall. That area was even sectioned off by a few small folding screens, creating a somewhat secluded nook in the large dining room.

Without thinking much of it, she carried her tray over.

As she got closer, she realized that the entire section only had one person sitting in it. That person was seated in the furthest corner, partially hidden by the folding screens. Only a tall, slender silhouette in profile was visible.

Even though it was just a side profile, just one glance made words like “refined elegance” and “graceful bearing” come to mind.

Jiang Shuwan couldn’t help but take a second look.

She had never paid much attention to appearances before. After all, good looks did nothing to speed up lab work. But ever since she started drifting through film crews, it was as if some energy channel had suddenly been opened. She’d begun to appreciate outward beauty.

Pleasant things to look at did, after all, lift the mood.

Her roommate Xin Li once said that Jiang Shuwan was experiencing a rebound effect—that her repressed nature, once unleashed, would surge wildly, inevitably leading her down the path of becoming a “face-con” with no way back.

Face-con. Another new term she had learned.

Jiang Shuwan didn’t think it was a bad thing at all. In fact, she was adjusting quite well.

“Food and lust are human nature”—an ancient truth. She hadn’t been able to relate before, but now she could. Clearly, this was growth.

Jiang Shuwan sat at a table next to the folding screens.

The moment she sat down, she noticed several people at nearby tables casting surprised glances her way. Some even made exaggerated facial expressions at her.

She stared for a while but couldn’t make out what they were trying to say. She vaguely understood that they wanted her to look behind her. So she turned and glanced a few more times at the “refined elegance” man, thinking: Sure, he’s good-looking, but no matter what, food comes first. I’m hungry. It’s time to eat.

She ignored the others and lowered her head to eat.

On the other side of the folding screen—

Ji Hanzhang, his long fingers poised over his chopsticks, paused slightly. He turned his head and glanced at the adjacent table. He could’ve sworn he heard someone say: “Sure, he’s good-looking, but no matter what, food comes first.”

He didn’t think his fame was so great that everyone should recognize him. But the film crew had booked the entire hotel, so logically, everyone in the restaurant should be part of the crew—in other words, insiders in the entertainment circle.

To be judged by an insider with “he’s good-looking, but food comes first”—well, that was new.

Ji Hanzhang raised an eyebrow slightly and reached out with his chopsticks to pick up a crisp, green bok choy stalk.

On the other side of the folding screen—

Jiang Shuwan was leisurely finishing her boiled egg and had just picked up her soy milk when a young man wearing sunglasses sat down at the table across from her.

Even with the sunglasses on, it was obvious he was handsome.

But wearing sunglasses indoors was one thing—this man didn’t even take them off while eating. Jiang Shuwan couldn’t help but glance at him again. She wondered, Does this sunglasses guy have some sort of eye condition that makes him sensitive to light?

Behind the folding screen, Ji Hanzhang suddenly choked and instinctively turned to glance at the “sunglasses guy.”

Due to the angle, he couldn’t see the person behind the screen who’d been mumbling, but he could see the “sunglasses guy” sitting one table over. Ji Hanzhang had a vague impression of this person—he seemed to be named Xia Xiangyang, and his acting was quite good. Among the younger generation of actors, he was considered one of the more outstanding ones. Otherwise, Director Xiang wouldn’t have chosen him to play the second male lead.

Still, Ji Hanzhang and Xia Xiangyang had never worked together, so they couldn’t really be considered acquaintances.

When the person behind the screen made fun of Xia Xiangyang for eating with sunglasses on, suggesting he had an eye disease, Ji Hanzhang noticed that Xia Xiangyang didn’t react at all. He thought to himself: This Xia Xiangyang has pretty good self-restraint.

But just as that thought formed, Xia Xiangyang suddenly stood up and changed seats—turning so that his side now faced the person behind the screen instead of directly across.

From the moment he sat down, Xia Xiangyang could feel someone across the table staring at him.

Logically speaking, everyone eating in the hotel restaurant was part of the production team, and they all had basic professional ethics. Having been in the industry for a while, it wasn’t unusual to run into celebrities—no one should be that surprised.

More importantly, there was clearly a true dazzling gem sitting right behind that screen. He couldn’t understand why that girl chose to look at him instead of the film emperor Ji.

Xia Xiangyang felt a bit displeased. That girl’s gaze reminded him of a few days ago, when a sasaeng fan had followed him all the way home. He couldn’t take it anymore and finally chose to get up and change seats.

Jiang Shuwan looked at Xia Xiangyang, confused.

Just now, she suddenly remembered hearing people say on set before that a celebrity’s three-piece disguise kit included sunglasses, a hat, and a face mask. Then she thought—could it be that this person was wearing sunglasses at breakfast because he didn’t want to be recognized? But the problem was, without the hat and the mask, would just the sunglasses alone really serve as a disguise? Wasn’t that basically covering one’s ears while stealing a bell?

She couldn’t help but feel that this guy’s intelligence was questionable.

As she was thinking this, a strange mechanical voice suddenly sounded in her ear:

[Beep, host has shown interest in gossip. System has automatically initiated search mode.]

Jiang Shuwan: “?”

She froze for a moment. The voice was odd, the content even more bizarre, and most importantly, she could clearly feel that the voice had just appeared out of thin air in her ear.

She looked around—everyone else was eating quietly. Even those who were talking had lowered their voices to a whisper.

Obviously, they hadn’t heard the strange voice.

Before she could think further, the mechanical voice sounded again:

[Beep, search complete.]

[The man in sunglasses is named Xia Xiangyang, an actor under Meiyu Media. Official age: 23. Actual age: 26. Official height: 186 cm. Actual height: 182 cm. Has appeared in films such as In the Name of Love, Tracking, and Escape Notes. Acting skills are decent.]

[However, Xia Xiangyang has poor luck. Every time he’s nominated for a major award, he ends up in a tough competition—either losing to veteran actors or rising fresh faces. So although he has work and skill, without any awards to his name, his status remains stuck in an awkward place. That’s why landing the second male lead in The Regent Prince is especially important to him.]

[Unfortunately!]

Jiang Shuwan: “…”

It was even leaving cliffhangers?

She waited a moment. When the strange voice didn’t continue, she couldn’t help but mutter, “Unfortunately what?”

[Unfortunately, his luck is still not that great. You thought he was dumb for wearing sunglasses at breakfast, didn’t you? But that’s not it.]

[Last night, he went to a bar for socializing and encountered some thugs harassing a girl outside the restroom. He stepped in to help and ended up getting punched, giving him a black eye. The sunglasses are to cover it up. He’ll also wear them during the opening ceremony this afternoon. He doesn’t want trouble, but trouble doesn’t just disappear because you avoid it.]

[Someone filmed what happened last night. After the opening ceremony, the video will be released—but edited to take it out of context. When that happens, rumors will spread everywhere that he joined the crew only to party, fight, and act like a diva. It won’t be long before he’s forced out of the Regent Prince production. Afterward, his bad reputation will make it difficult for him to land good roles.]

Jiang Shuwan frowned.

If all of that was true, then Xia Xiangyang was really unfortunate. He had done a good deed, yet it ended up ruining his own career.

But… what exactly was this voice? She still didn’t know. And all these mysterious predictions about the future—she wasn’t sure how credible they were.

[System reporting in! I am the Gossip System!]

[Of course it’s all true. Don’t believe me? Just wait and see if he wears the sunglasses at the opening ceremony this afternoon, and whether someone releases a video of him fighting. Hmph!]

The mechanical voice huffed haughtily, clearly full of pride.

Because the memory of being followed by a sasaeng fan was still bothering him, Xia Xiangyang felt unsettled. He finished breakfast quickly and left. As he walked out, many people along the hallway greeted him with smiles:

“Mr. Xia, finished eating?”

“Mr. Xia, looking forward to seeing your Sikong Huai!”

The Regent Prince was a male lead drama. Ji Hanzhang played the male lead—the regent prince—while Xia Xiangyang played the second male lead: the protagonist’s childhood friend and also the deeply hidden main antagonist. The character’s name was Sikong Huai.

Xia Xiangyang smiled and thanked the others politely.

Hearing the others address him as “Mr. Xia,” Jiang Shuwan felt her emotions grow increasingly complicated. Although she had already suspected it, hearing “Mr. Xia” seemed to further confirm what the Gossip System had said.

She pulled out her phone from her pocket, quickly opened a search engine, and looked up Xia Xiangyang. She clicked on the Baidu Encyclopedia entry that popped up and skimmed it quickly, then stood up and ran after him.

She caught up with Xia Xiangyang at the elevator: “Mr. Xia!”

Xia Xiangyang saw her and frowned slightly. He hadn’t expected this person to actually chase after him. But as a public figure, he still tried to maintain his composure and nodded politely. “Hello,” he said, then added gently but firmly, “Sorry, I don’t take photos or give autographs.”

Jiang Shuwan: “…”

She nodded. “Mm, I don’t want a photo or an autograph. Mr. Xia, you know the saying—’Learn from Lei Feng, be a role model for all. Good deeds should be remembered by name.’ Let’s encourage each other.”

Just then, the elevator going down arrived. Jiang Shuwan said goodbye and stepped inside decisively.

Xia Xiangyang, who had thought he was dealing with a sasaeng fan but ended up being hit with a line like “let’s encourage each other”: “…”

Was that how the saying went?

I didn’t study much, but that almost fooled me.

Ding. Another elevator arrived.

A server reminded, “Mr. Xia, the elevator going up is here too.”

Then the server glanced behind Xia Xiangyang and, suddenly sounding a bit excited, said, “Mr. Ji, are you going upstairs or downstairs?”

Mr. Ji—the film emperor! In person, he was even more stunning than on the big screen!

Ji Hanzhang glanced at the elevator doors that had just closed. At the corner earlier, he had overheard that line about “encouraging each other.” When he walked over, the person had already stepped inside, and he still didn’t see who it was.

He retracted his gaze and said, “Upstairs.”

The server couldn’t help sneaking another look at him, screaming internally like a prairie dog, but maintained a calm expression and held open the elevator going up. “Gentlemen, this way please.”

Ji Hanzhang: “Thank you.”

The elevator rose steadily. Xia Xiangyang took the initiative and greeted him: “Mr. Ji, I’m Xia Xiangyang. I’m lucky to have been cast as Sikong Huai. I’ll have quite a few scenes opposite you later—please give me your guidance.”

Ji Hanzhang nodded and said, “No need to be so polite. I’ve seen your work. You act well. Let’s talk more when we get the chance.”

Xia Xiangyang: “You’re too kind.”

He let out a quiet sigh of relief. People in the industry often said that the film emperor Ji had a high emotional intelligence—he looked cold, but was actually easy to get along with. Still, in the entertainment industry, you could never fully trust what you heard.

Fortunately, the rumors seemed true—Ji really was modest and kind.

Just as Xia Xiangyang was thinking that, he suddenly heard Ji Hanzhang say:

“Assuming someone’s wearing sunglasses because they have an eye condition is understandable. Don’t take it personally.”

Xia Xiangyang: “???”