Chapter 20

“Hey, where do you think that extra named Sun Yunyun went? How can a living person just disappear like that?”

During a break, the extras on the Prince Regent set gathered together to chat. Jiang Shuwan was also among them, listening to their gossip while reading her book.

“I heard she went out that night and never came back. Her roommate thought she’d gone to a hotel with Liang Hao from our crew, but after several days passed without her showing up, they finally called the police.”

“Seriously, if it weren’t the middle of the night when she vanished, who would even report her missing? People come and go from this film base all year round. Some quit after a couple of days because they can’t handle the hardship. Others find some opportunity, pack their bags, and slip away without saying a word—afraid someone might cling to them. Honestly, to be blunt, even if someone died, no one might ever know.”

Everyone fell silent at that.

In this film base, sure, there were people who got their big break and shot to fame through a role—but far more lived day after day in obscurity, playing background characters who might not even make it on screen.

Some still clung to dreams of overnight stardom, while others simply drifted along, leading lives without hope.

“Hey, right—Sister Ma, that Sun Yunyun lived in the courtyard next to yours, right? Have you seen her before?” one of the extras suddenly asked.

Jiang Shuwan looked up and realized the person being asked was the same Sister Ma who had previously told her that if she wanted a serious role, she needed to make herself look presentable.

This Sister Ma looked about forty or fifty, slightly plump, with a cheerful demeanor that made her seem kind and approachable.

Hearing the question, she chuckled and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh please, there are so many people living in one courtyard. And we all come and go so early and late—you can’t even recognize everyone in your own courtyard, let alone the one next door. I don’t know if I’ve seen that girl or not. Maybe I have, but I wouldn’t know her.”

No one paid it much mind.

It made sense. The extras all lived in the villages near the film base, often in shared houses crammed with three to eight bunk beds per room. Even small courtyards might house dozens of people. Everyone worked from dawn till dusk—who really knew who was who?

However, after Sister Ma and a few others were called away by the crew, one extra frowned and muttered, “That’s weird. I could’ve sworn I heard Sister Ma say she was pretty close with the girls in nearby courtyards. She said the pickled vegetables she makes at home are delicious and that a lot of people buy them from her. Did I remember that wrong?”

Before long, the rest of the extras were also called away. Even Jiang Shuwan put away her book and followed a staff member to resume playing a background palace maid.

But while Jiang Shuwan stood in the little emperor’s study room with a blank face, her mind was actively conversing with the gossip-loving system.

[System Initiating Auto-Scan Mode…]
Ma Chunhua (aka Sister Ma), has worked at S City’s film base for over three years, usually playing extras like passersby, vendors, or nannies. Her acting has been consistently terrible for all three years, which is why her wages have barely increased.
She’s warm and generous. The pickled vegetables she makes back in her hometown are wildly popular with extras in the area. She sells over six figures worth each year—far more than she earns as an extra.
However, acting and selling pickled vegetables aren’t her main occupations. Her actual job is as the “bait” in a human trafficking ring—responsible for luring and deceiving victims.

When she heard that last part, Jiang Shuwan was so startled that the feather duster in her hand fell to the floor.

Oh no!

She crouched down carefully to pick it up, then just as cautiously stood up again.

Thankfully, the director didn’t call “Cut.”

The take passed, and when Jiang Shuwan went to return the feather duster to the prop handler, Wang Youde stopped her and said, “Director Luo just praised you. He said you’re a quick-reacting extra—right when the little emperor threw something, your feather duster fell perfectly, and the way you picked it up afterward was spot-on.”

He gave her a thumbs-up. “I told Director Luo you were the one cast for that little maid role he was looking to fill, and he said that was perfect.”

Ever since he learned that Jiang Shuwan wanted to “fight for” the role of the little maid the Prince Regent helps up, Wang Youde had taken note. He figured, with the producer’s repeated instructions to take care of her, such a small part was totally within his power to assign.

Jiang Shuwan had always doubted her own acting skills, so Wang Youde had planned to ask Xia Xiangyang to coach her a bit in his spare time.

But now? Her performance was just fine.

Director Luo wasn’t just anyone—he was a walking barometer for acting talent. If Director Luo said it was good, then it absolutely was.

Jiang Shuwan: “…”

That wasn’t acting at all—that was just her reflexes kicking in.

Wang Youde waved his hand. “Alright then, I’ll send you the script later. Find someone to help you rehearse, and study it carefully.”

Fine.

Jiang Shuwan casually agreed and then quickly slipped away to a quiet corner, where she began grilling the system in her head:

“Wait a minute—Sister Ma being a member of a human trafficking ring is major information. Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? What kind of useless, defective system are you?”

If the system had a physical form, it would probably be rolling its eyes.

[System’s auto-scan feature is triggered by the host’s curiosity. Since the host had no curiosity about Ma Chunhua before, the auto-scan did not activate.]

…Well then.

Jiang Shuwan thought for a moment and asked, “Then I’m now very curious about this human trafficking ring—can you detect who the members are, where they’re hiding, and what evidence there is?”

The system’s mechanical voice carried a faint trace of exasperation:
[The target of the host’s gossip can only be a specific person and cannot be expanded to include criminal syndicates. I am a gossip system, not a criminal investigation system. Please stop daydreaming.]

This system really had a sharp tongue—it had just told her she was daydreaming.

After figuring things out, Jiang Shuwan began thinking about how to pass the information she had to Jiang Zhan.

Liang Hao had given his statement yesterday, and another whole day had passed with no updates from Jiang Zhan. If the system hadn’t said that Sun Yunyun was still safe, she might have already written an anonymous letter to the local police station.

After some thought, Jiang Shuwan took out her phone and sent a WeChat message to Jiang Zhan.

Lab 9, Little Jiang:
Little Uncle, there’s an extra who lives next to Sun Yunyun. She should’ve been familiar with the people in Sun Yunyun’s courtyard, but when the others brought it up today, her reaction was a bit odd. She outright denied everything. Do you think this person might—

“Little Jiang, why are you hiding out here all alone?”

A woman’s voice suddenly interrupted her. Jiang Shuwan was startled, her finger slipped, and the half-written message whooshed off before it was finished.

She looked up. Standing in front of her was a woman around fifty years old, smiling kindly and warmly—who else could it be but Ma Chunhua?

Jiang Shuwan wasn’t sure why she had suddenly come looking for her.

But although the woman was part of a human trafficking ring, it was broad daylight and they were still on the set. Jiang Shuwan wasn’t too worried she’d do anything harmful right now.

“I was just checking in with my family. Ma Dajie, did you need something?”

Ma Chunhua said with a cheerful smile, “You’re so young, all alone out here at the film base. Your family must worry. My own daughter is about your age. Every time I see you, I feel like I’m looking at her.”

Jiang Shuwan looked puzzled. “I remember last time you said your kid was still in school, just not as diligent as me?”

Ma Chunhua froze briefly, then forced a laugh. “Oh, that was my younger daughter. She’s still in middle school. The older one is about your age.”

Jiang Shuwan nodded. “I see, that makes sense.”

Ma Chunhua, seeing that one line had fooled her, looked pleased. “Exactly. That’s why I said seeing you feels so familiar. Little Jiang, we don’t have any scenes this afternoon. If you’re free, why don’t you come by my place? We have a coal stove at our courtyard. I’ll make you some flatbread from my hometown.”

[Host, she’s trying to lure you over so she can capture and sell you.]

Jiang Shuwan had already guessed that—she didn’t even need the system’s reminder.

Her intentions couldn’t be more obvious.

Jiang Shuwan considered for a few seconds. “This afternoon? Yeah, I’m actually free. Just give me your address, and I’ll come find you later.”

Ma Chunhua smiled brightly. “Why don’t we go together after we wrap filming?”

If they went together, wouldn’t that be walking right into her trap?

Jiang Shuwan casually made an excuse: “I have something to do after this, so I’ll come by a bit later. I’ve got my little electric scooter—it won’t take me long.”

Ma Chunhua probably didn’t want to seem too pushy and raise suspicion, so she exchanged phone numbers with Jiang Shuwan and carefully gave her the address. “Come early once you’re done. My flatbreads are really good.”

Then she walked away, still smiling.

Jiang Shuwan thought to herself, No wonder she’s the one responsible for “external recruitment” in the trafficking ring—she’s enthusiastic, generous, knows how to keep up appearances, and even good at selling dreams.

She glanced at her phone. Jiang Zhan still hadn’t replied—probably hadn’t seen the message yet.

Putting away her phone, Jiang Shuwan turned and walked back to the set.

[Who should I take with me this afternoon? Liang Hao? Definitely not. He’s timid, avoids trouble, and not even as strong as me. If we got caught, we’d both be sold off.

Xia Xiangyang? He seems a little… slow. But probably more reliable than Liang Hao. Not sure if he has any scenes this afternoon though—I didn’t pay attention earlier.

Wang Youde? Forget it. No combat ability at all, and he’s always busy with production work.

If no one’s free, I’ll just ask Manager Zhou to arrange someone from the hotel.]

Ji Hanzhang vaguely heard Jiang Shuwan muttering something about how a human trafficker was warm, generous, and good at selling dreams. It sounded so absurd he couldn’t help but walk over. As he did, he heard her pondering who to take with her.

He frowned. This girl is really bold—she knows it’s a human trafficker and still dares to go?

Just then, Jiang Shuwan paused and turned toward someone approaching from the right, waving her hand. “Xia Xiangyang!”

Xia Xiangyang was walking along sipping water from a thermos. When he looked up and saw her, he quickened his pace. “Miss Jiang.”

Jiang Shuwan asked, “Do you have scenes this afternoon?”

Xia Xiangyang nodded. “Two scenes. Why? Do you need something, Miss Jiang?”

Jiang Shuwan replied, “Oh, I need to go somewhere. I was thinking of asking you to come with me. But if you’re busy, never mind. I’ll find someone else.”

“Is it something urgent?” Xia Xiangyang hesitated. “Should I ask the director for leave?”

Jiang Shuwan shook her head. “No, no. Director Luo’s already annoyed enough with you.”

Ever since he joined the crew, he’d been in fights and scandals, trending on blacklists several times. Though all of it was later cleared up, it still caused negative press. Luo Qingyao was already sick of dealing with troublesome actors.

If Xia Xiangyang took more time off, it really wouldn’t be appropriate.

He frowned, looking conflicted, and asked if she could reschedule. Jiang Shuwan shook her head and figured she’d just ask someone from the hotel.

Then, suddenly, she heard a deep, pleasant voice behind her: “Miss Jiang, I’ll go with you.”

Jiang Shuwan wondered who was being so eager to help. She turned and saw that it was Ji Hanzhang—and immediately froze. “Emperor Ji?!”

So the cold and aloof top actor is actually warm-hearted on the inside? A hot-water bottle in disguise!

Ji Hanzhang: “…”