Chapter 6: Humble

After the audition in Hengdian, Ruan Yu holed up at home in Beijing for a few days. A week later, she got a call from An Zhuoqian.

“Good news! You passed the audition. You’ll be joining the production the day after tomorrow. Director Guan Baonian personally called to praise your talent—said you’ve got real potential,” An Zhuoqian said, clearly thrilled. “Honestly, I didn’t expect things to go this smoothly. Looks like I lucked into a gem. Still, before you head to set, you should properly thank Zhong Xuhai. I’ve arranged a thank-you dinner tonight. Lin Qing will come pick you up.”

When Lin Qing knocked on the door of Ruan Yu’s apartment, she was in the middle of playing a game. It was Ye Mengmeng who opened the door for him.

He had just learned that Ruan Yu had passed her audition and was both surprised and puzzled.
“Xiao Yu-jie, didn’t Duan Lin say right there at the audition that you weren’t suitable? How come Director Guan didn’t listen to him and let you through anyway?”

“Who knows? Maybe he’s just used to it,” Ruan Yu replied without even looking up.

To be honest, Duan Lin’s sudden cold rejection had been like a bucket of ice water thrown over her—she was furious. But after calming down, she figured it wasn’t worth holding on to.

Who was Duan Lin, after all?

A man with more dirt on him than she could count.

Power-tripping on set, demanding extra screen time, making last-minute casting changes—her memory was full of those wild rumors. The real surprise was that he’d actually agreed to act with her at all.

Lin Qing looked at Ruan Yu’s focused profile as she played her game, feeling a bit sentimental.

An Zhuoqian had warned him privately: Ruan Yu was the only daughter of President Ruan, the crown jewel of Shangying Media, and he had to treat her well. But after getting to know her, Lin Qing realized that Ruan Yu didn’t act like a spoiled heiress at all. In fact, she was easygoing and down-to-earth.

Thirty minutes into the game, their base was about to be overrun. Ruan Yu, previously all smiles, finally lost it:
“Are my idiot teammates playing a charity match for the disabled?”

Lin Qing: “…”

“The jungler’s been wandering from top lane to bottom lane without a single kill—what is he doing, logging WeChat steps in the jungle for a workout?”

“And what’s up with the top laner? Is he planning to become a monk? Q misses, W misses, E misses, R misses—the Four Great Emptinesses?”

Ruan Yu sneered, cranking her sarcasm to the max:
“Throw a handful of rice on a keyboard and a chicken would play better!”

After losing the match, she was still fuming. But when she looked at Lin Qing, she suddenly brightened and beamed at him with an energetic grin.
“Lin Qing! Can you do me a favor?”

She sent him a link and patiently guided him through the steps. Only when Lin Qing opened the mini program did he realize—she was asking him to vote for Ji Linhao.

Thinking of her phone wallpaper, Lin Qing asked curiously, “Sis Xiaoyu, you like Ji Linhao?”

“Yeah, I do.”

These days, Ji Linhao was a wildly popular idol. It wasn’t strange for people to like him, but it was surprising that the daughter of a top entertainment company CEO was a fangirl.
“Why him?”

Ruan Yu thought for a moment, then gestured toward the game on the screen:
“I like playing games.”

“When I play, it’s because I enjoy the satisfaction of pushing all the way to the enemy base. Ji Linhao is like that too. He worked his way up step by step from a talent show, and everything he has now was earned through hard work. That’s why he’s worth liking.”

When Ruan Yu talked about her idol, her eyes sparkled with excitement. Lin Qing couldn’t help but be moved.

Of course, she didn’t say the rest out loud:

Someone like Duan Lin, who relied on his background to cruise through the entertainment industry with a golden cheat code—she would never become his fan in this lifetime.

—

That evening, An Zhuoqian picked a quiet private club for the thank-you dinner. Though she called it a “thank-you banquet,” it was really just a casual meal for the three of them. An Zhuoqian and Zhong Xuhai were old classmates, and Ruan Yu occasionally chimed in, practically bubbling with happiness.

Zhong Xuhai had taught Ji Linhao.

A teacher for a day, a father for life. By that logic, she’d just met her idol’s parent!

The next day, Lin Qing booked her a flight to Hengdian to join the crew a day early.

Now that her casting was confirmed, Ruan Yu finally received the full script for The Hopeless Pursuit of Fame. She read through it in her hotel room. Although the film told the story of an underdog’s rise, the production spared no expense on the large-scale scenes. Even the actors’ cheongsams and long gowns were meticulously hand-embroidered. The film had spent a full year in pre-production.

If the original actress cast as Su Wan hadn’t gotten pregnant and withdrawn, the role wouldn’t have gone to her.

On her first day on set, Ruan Yu met several of the directors and was quickly called into the studio for her costume fitting and character styling.

Supporting roles didn’t get their own makeup rooms, let alone a dedicated makeup artist. Ruan Yu waited for five minutes in the crowded shared space without complaint.

She was actually busier than the makeup artist—

Busy voting.

In the fan world, “voting” means showing support for your idol by helping them rank in popularity polls.

It was the last day of the month, when all major monthly rankings were about to close. Organizers would award prizes based on final rankings—cash support, ad placements, or big fan-led promotional displays. These prizes would go to the winner’s fan club or data station.

This was also when rival fans made their presence loudest.

That’s right—Siji and Linjiao were at it again, fighting for the top of the same ranking list.

Ji Linhao and Duan Lin basically split the entertainment world in two, and their fans were just as relentless. One second Ji Linhao was leading, the next it was Duan Lin.

First place came with a 50,000 RMB support prize. No credit card top-ups allowed—it all came down to real individual votes.

Compete or not? Of course compete!

Was it just about the 50,000 RMB? No! It was about her idol’s pride and status!

As Ruan Yu rallied Siji in their Weibo fan forum, her name was suddenly called.

She looked up and was surprised to recognize the actress in front of her.

It was Shen Ruowei, the same girl she’d met in the company elevator last time. Shen had landed another supporting role and joined the crew the same day as Ruan Yu.

The two chatted for a bit, and Shen took the initiative to add Ruan Yu on WeChat. But when her eyes swept over Ruan Yu’s pinned chats, she paused:
“Is this Duan Lin’s WeChat?”

Ruan Yu had forgotten to unpin it. The name “Duan Lin” was still at the top of her chat list. Just seeing it made her blood boil. Without hesitation, she immediately removed it from the pinned chats.

With an innocent smile, Ruan Yu replied,
“I ran into him earlier and added him then.”

“I heard he doesn’t just add people casually. Last time I saw him backstage at the Variety Gala and tried to ask for his WeChat—his assistant blocked me right away.” Shen looked suspicious.

“Maybe I just got lucky today.”

At that moment, the makeup artist called Ruan Yu over. She was led aside to begin her styling. Her skin was in excellent condition, making the makeup process a breeze. The stylist beamed as she finished and handed Ruan Yu a cheongsam to change into.

After changing into the costume, Ruan Yu walked into the studio. The moment she entered, the photographer let out a low whistle, and all eyes turned toward her, followed by a wave of whispers.

“Who’s that?”

“The new girl playing Su Wan. What’s her name… Ruan something… Oh, right, Ruan Yu.”

“Never seen her before. A newcomer? Director Zhong really has an eye—there are so few who can pull off a qipao this well!”

With qipaos, being too thin makes one look frail; too plump, and it looks heavy. But Ruan Yu’s figure was graceful and perfectly proportioned. The light silk material hugged her curves just right, and the stylist used two clips to pinch the excess fabric at her waist, emphasizing a slim, delicate silhouette.

Shen Ruowei, watching nearby, felt a mix of emotions.

She had been with Shangying Media for two years and was only now getting a minor role in a Guan Baonian film. Yet Ruan Yu, fresh on the scene, had already teamed up with An Zhuoqian and landed scenes opposite one of the most popular stars. Who knew what kind of tactics she used to get here?

Looking at her now, with looks like that… it was easy to guess what “tactics” had been used.

The makeup shoot went smoothly and wrapped up quickly. On her way to change, Ruan Yu was stopped by Lin Qing, who had returned with coffee. He took a few candid shots of her at work and posted them on her Weibo account.

Ruan Yu’s Weibo had just been set up by Lin Qing and wasn’t even verified yet. Ten minutes after posting the pictures, the post had only one like—and that was from a bot account that sold fan engagement services.

Ruan Yu sighed with mock sympathy. “This is just sad. Maybe we should delete it.”

Lin Qing shot her a glare. “Absolutely not! Popularity builds up slowly—no one goes viral overnight!”

Wasn’t this her own Weibo account? Why was this heiress acting like a detached onlooker enjoying the show?

Just then, Lin Qing scrolled through Weibo and paused. “Ji Linhao’s trending.”

“What?”

“His car got swarmed by sasaeng fans while getting off an overpass. It’s now the number one trending topic.”

Ruan Yu froze. Her face went pale, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “What the hell?!”

Thankfully the makeup room was noisy enough to drown her out; otherwise, Lin Qing would’ve wanted to smother her on the spot. “Calm down, will you—?”

Calm down?! Are you kidding me?!

Frantically, Ruan Yu opened Weibo. Sure enough, “Ji Linhao chased by sasaeng fans” sat at the top of the trending list, with views already in the hundreds of millions.

Ji Linhao had been performing in Shanghai recently. This afternoon, while leaving the airport, his ride got blocked by obsessive fans who cornered the car under an overpass. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

The comment section was filled with sympathy and outrage. Fuming, Ruan Yu jumped into the fray, posting over a dozen tweets with the hashtag “Say No to Sasaengs.”

She was both heartbroken and furious.

Even after finding out that her mentor Zhong Xuhai had once taught Ji Linhao, she never once thought of asking him for Ji’s private contact. She believed that, with time and effort, she could meet her idol properly and respectfully.

But sasaeng fans? Their so-called “love” was selfish and twisted. If they dared to block his car today, who’s to say they wouldn’t break the window tomorrow? Anyone who put their idol’s safety at risk didn’t deserve to be called a fan—hell, they didn’t even deserve to be called human.

Despite her rage, Ruan Yu’s comments remained level-headed: [His kindness and tolerance are not excuses for you to hurt him. Support your idols rationally—support them while living your own life well.]

The post received a flood of likes and hundreds of replies.

[Exactly! If you’ve got time to stalk idols in person, you might as well use it to vote for him online. We’re this close to taking back the top spot—come on, everyone!]

[The best support we can give him now is to help him win.]

[If you love him, vote for him!!!]

The rally cry worked—within minutes, Ji Linhao’s votes had edged past Duan Lin’s.

That day, Ruan Yu was only scheduled to shoot costume stills; her actual scenes wouldn’t start until the next day. Since the film studio was far from any commercial center, she planned to return to the hotel and read through the script.

On her way out, she passed a crew filming outdoor scenes and rolled down the car window—just in time to see Duan Lin in the crowd.

He had just finished a scene and was watching the playback with Director Guan. Fans stood behind the barricades of the scenic area, visibly excited but impressively restrained—not one scream or photo in sight.

Come to think of it, Duan Lin really didn’t seem to have many sasaengs. For someone so famous, that was rare.

In the early days of his fame, there had been news of stalker fans bothering him too. But Duan Lin had always maintained a cold, no-nonsense attitude toward sasaengs. His assistant, Shao Li, had the intimidating presence of a bodyguard, which kept most people at bay.

It all came down to this: being scary works.

But what about her sweet, angelic Linhao? What could she do for someone like him? Ugh.

In the distance, Duan Lin suddenly looked up, sensing something.

He spotted Ruan Yu leaning against the car window, face still made up, cheeks slightly flushed. She was staring at him absentmindedly, brows gently furrowed, looking sorrowful and delicate.

She looked exactly like Lin Daiyu wasting away in silent longing.^[1]t/n: Lin Daiyu is a famous character from the classic Chinese novel “Dream of the Red Chamber.” She’s known for her beauty, sensitivity, and delicate health, often portrayed as … Continue reading

Duan Lin: “……”

…

The ranking war was heating up.

By the afternoon, Ji Linhao had pulled ahead of Duan Lin. But Linjiaos rallied hard. By 9:30 PM, Duan Lin had taken the lead again.

Ruan Yu had just finished showering. Her long hair was still dripping as she clutched her phone, frantically refreshing the leaderboard.

At this point, the competition wasn’t even about the ¥50,000 prize anymore.

Some busybody even screenshotted the ranking battle and posted it on a gossip forum:
“Place your bets! Tonight’s Superstar Leaderboard showdown—who will be the ultimate top-tier idol? Poll closes at 10 PM. Guess now!”

Guess your ass.

Ruan Yu stared nervously at her screen. On her fan account, she had already done every possible call-to-action. Returning to the leaderboard tab—it froze.

Seriously?! It freezes now?!

She tried every corner of the hotel room, and still—nothing.

At 9:50 PM, fed up, Ruan Yu stormed out of the room.

The hallway was quiet. The hotel had excellent security—no fans sneaking around. Standing just outside her door, she refreshed for three full minutes…

Finally, the leaderboard loaded.

Duan Lin was still in first place, with Ji Linhao trailing by just one vote.

“What are you doing here?”

The man’s voice was low and slightly cold, coming from the room next door.

Ruan Yu looked up sharply. At some point, the door to the adjacent room had opened. Duan Lin had just finished showering, the top two buttons of his black shirt undone. From his jawline to his collarbones, the curves of his body were taut and sleek.

“Seeing this man at a time like this… Is the universe trying to piss me off?” Ruan Yu muttered under her breath.

Duan Lin frowned. “What?”

A jumble of emotions surged through Ruan Yu. She managed to say, “Nothing. I’m staying next door. The Wi-Fi in my room sucks.”

Duan Lin looked down at her for a moment, then curved his lips into a smile. His elegant features softened with amusement—though the smile never reached his eyes.

“Ruan Yu,” he said coolly, “after all this time, you still haven’t learned to restrain yourself?”

“…Huh?”

For a second, Ruan Yu was stunned. Then she immediately understood.

He thought she was deliberately staying in the room next to his. Trying to get close to him??

She was already furious about the fan battle. And now she was being slandered by the rival camp’s idol himself?! Absolutely outrageous!

What benefit would she get from approaching him? Hah, steal his phone to vote with?

Just as Ruan Yu was about to retort with all the elegance and pride of a misunderstood queen—

Huh?

Silence fell for a full thirty seconds.

Duan Lin, looking a little impatient, moved to shut the door—only to be stopped by a hand pressed to the doorframe.

Ruan Yu, who seconds ago had looked thoroughly fed up, now gazed at him with a conflicted expression.

She could endure humiliation—but she couldn’t afford to lose.

If men could win battles in games “for the Horde” or “for the Alliance,” why couldn’t a woman win a fan war “for her idol”?

Taking a deep breath, Ruan Yu braced herself for sacrifice and said in a small voice, “Duan Lin…”

Duan Lin met her shy gaze.

Her long curled lashes trembled ever so slightly with nervous tension, the same expression he had glimpsed earlier that afternoon—as if in the sea of people, her eyes had always been searching just for him.

Without thinking, Ruan Yu pointed at Ji Linhao’s picture on the phone screen. “Can you vote for my husband?”

---

Author’s note:
Xiao Yu: I’m only soft for one second—please vote for my hubby!!
Duan Lin: …
Duan Lin: Who’s your husband?