CHAPTER 23 (PART 2)

Gu Sheng casually showed him her screen. “Reading Reversal’s script.”

The past two and a half days of filming had been exhausting, and there wasn’t much time at night to check her phone. So as soon as they finished, she picked up where she left off.

Wen Heng, sitting beside her, paused for a moment—then his expression visibly softened.

Chang Yan, of course, knew that Reversal was about to begin casting. Word had already gotten around the industry, and quite a few parties had come to reach out to him, but since the decision was up to the boss, Chang Yan had turned all of them away.

He hadn’t expected Gu Sheng to be so serious about her work. Suddenly, he felt a kind of maternal pride.

Although he wasn’t very optimistic about Gu Sheng getting the lead role—after all, he knew Jin Yueyao was eyeing it too, and she was a top-tier 90s actress with way more seniority in the industry—still, familiarizing herself with the script might help Gu Sheng land a supporting role.

“Alright, alright, keep reading.”

Wen Heng sat there quietly for a while, then also pulled out his phone.

The moment he unlocked it, messages from Qi Qingjian popped up.

[Too damn good. Really know how to play.]

[Shared Weibo: ‘The Best Actor’s Deep, Fiery Love—“Gu Sheng, I want your life.”’]

A deliberately old-school title with blunt, suggestive undertones.

Wen Heng raised an eyebrow and tapped open the link.

The Wen-Sheng couple’s supertopic already had over a hundred thousand fans. Many big names in fanfic, video edits, and fan art had gathered there. After the third episode blew up, a flood of new content appeared. A well-known writer of “pressed against the wall and kissed” stories had struck again—this time going viral outside the fandom.

—Filling in the missing footage after the camera got covered.

[That night, he grabbed her waist—so slender he could encircle it with one hand—and kissed her red lips.
The man’s voice was hoarse, filled with a desire that could drown you.
“Gu Sheng… I want your life.”
I want your body.
I want your heart.
I want to sink into the depths with you.]

Wen Heng: “…”

Put simply, this was one of those fics written subtly enough not to get flagged—

A fanfic smut piece.

Wen Heng knew full well the situation in which he’d said that line. Now, seeing netizens’ absolutely off-the-wall interpretations, he found himself…

Unable to stop reading.

[How is it? I couldn’t even bring myself to finish it.]

[I just clicked because someone reposted it, and bam—wasn’t that my bro and sis-in-law?!]

Qi Qingjian kept blabbering, but Wen Heng swiped away his messages and calmly finished reading the piece.

The nanny van had already stopped in Huating’s underground garage. Gu Sheng leaned forward. “Why aren’t you moving?”

The voice described in the script suddenly echoed in his ear, catching Wen Heng off guard. His hand trembled, and the phone slipped from his grasp and fell inside the car.

Gu Sheng looked at him suspiciously. “What are you so nervous about?”

If they weren’t in a fake marriage, she would have suspected Wen Heng of having an affair behind her back.

“…Nothing,” Wen Heng looked away, deliberately avoiding her slightly open collar as she leaned over.

He pretended to be calm as he picked up the phone and put it back into his pocket.

His palm was lightly damp with sweat.

He didn’t know if it was because of the heat… or something else.

…

Elsewhere, Qi Qing still hadn’t received a message from his brother. He figured the film emperor was too busy to check his phone.

He was at the studio and glanced up at Fu Shan, noting the man’s darkened expression.

“What’s wrong, another EO?” he joked.

Fu Shan shook his head.

Over the past two days, news about Gu Sheng and Wen Heng had been everywhere. They were on track to becoming the hottest new CP.

But it was fake, wasn’t it?

Fu Shan lowered his gaze, silent for a long while before smiling again. “It’s nothing. The MV will be released soon—I’m really looking forward to it.”

Two days later—

The LORFUL PA MV dropped on NetEase Rain Music and instantly took over the homepage banner. As a well-known singer-songwriter, Fu Shan’s new release immediately drew impressive streaming and save numbers. His team directly pushed it to the trending topics.

One of the hashtags: #FuShanGuShengCollabDramaMV#

This was the first time Gu Sheng had appeared in public outside the context of Wen Heng. Right now, she was at the height of her popularity, and anything with her name easily drew attention.

[The MV’s female lead is actually Gu Sheng?!]

[My fandom walls just collapsed! When did these two even meet?]

[I watched Gu-jie act in Farewell to You on the variety show. Now I’m really curious how she performs in an MV—]

Netizens’ curiosity skyrocketed. Upon clicking in, they were first pulled in by the slightly heavy melody. In a black-and-white world, the male lead played the piano alone in isolation.

The camera moved slowly through the disjointed and conflicting scenes, until it suddenly crashed into a strikingly beautiful face—bold and radiant. She wore a loosely buttoned shirt and gazed provocatively into the camera. Like a slash of color tearing through the grayscale frame.

She touched his piano.

She understood his emotions.

The pain overflowed in an instant. The screen burst into color, and the music soared.

[Gu Sheng is so freaking beautiful ahhhhhh—]

[I’m stunned! Her eyes are so expressive!]

[Holy sh*t, this is hands-down the best MV I’ve seen all year!!]

Gu Sheng’s fans were the most thrilled. For the first time, a major fan account rallied the fanbase to boost Gu Sheng’s stats. Their goddess had to have gorgeous numbers!

But to everyone’s surprise, no rallying was needed. The view count shot past a million almost instantly and just kept climbing.

@EchoesOfGuSheng: I used to be a looks-only fan, but now I get why being a career stan feels so damn good!

@GiveMeSweetness: Sobbing—stanning this woman is pure bliss [crying emoji]

Wen Heng also watched the MV at once.

To be honest, her performance was exactly as he expected—stunning.

The five-minute drama-style MV showed a girl’s journey: from confusion outside the door, to fear of touching the madman, to empathy with a genius’s obsession, and finally, to the joy of embracing one another.

The pain, conflict, and exhilaration were all woven into the melody and rhythm. She neither overacted nor held back. Her sense of balance and control astonished him. She practically radiated brilliance.

Wen Heng exhaled softly after watching. What followed was a deeper anticipation.

She definitely had more to show.

Gu Sheng, having seen the final cut, was positively smug. Her phone lit up with congratulations from Fu Shan, Lu Yiyi, Yu Shanbei, and Du Yanzhi—the whole Jia Lai crew was thrilled.

Of course, she knew she’d acted well. Give her a stage, and she could wow a whole room.

Before the next recording in the mountains, Wen Heng told her that Recall‘s audition would be held next week. Naturally, she wouldn’t miss such a golden opportunity.

Chang Yan said that because it meant acting opposite Wen Heng, many actresses in the industry had their eyes on this project. Song Qingzhi alone had pulled strings countless times. Even some top-tier actresses were eager to try.

Gu Sheng kept a calm mindset. For the audition, she’d be facing some of the best directors and screenwriters in the industry. The system’s rewards might come in handy then—if she could get guidance from someone truly influential, it would be a huge boost for her career.

Feeling good, Gu Sheng went back to reading the script. Then her phone rang—it was Fu Shan calling.

“Want me to collaborate on the next MV too?” Gu Sheng smiled, “I’m open to it, but… won’t the audience get tired of seeing the same pair?”

Wen Heng, who had picked up on who she was talking to, frowned slightly.

Classic green tea behavior.

The MV ended with the genius and the girl embracing.

From Wen Heng’s understanding of the story, he thought there was no need for a hug. The two could’ve just walked side by side into the dawn.

He keenly sensed something off about Fu Shan, and a wave of irritation rose in his chest.

Sensing his mood, the system chimed in:
[Reminder: You have a Transfer Card. Pain can be transferred.]

Wen Heng paused. “…No need.”

Dealing with a green tea? He didn’t need that method.

There were better ways to make Gu Sheng realize who was the better partner to work with.

When Gu Sheng came back after ending the call, she saw Wen Heng sitting in front of her script, reading through her notes and annotations.

“What are you doing?”

Wen Heng lifted his calm gaze and asked, “How do you interpret Li Shuang?”

That was the female lead in Recall.

Gu Sheng raised an eyebrow. The man all the top actresses were desperate to act alongside was right here in front of her—asking for a serious discussion.

Right now, the domestic TV scene was blooming with countless lighthearted romantic comedies, which had wide appeal. But when audiences grew tired of fluff, they needed something more emotionally intense to stir them.

And the strongest trait of Recall‘s script was its pain.

In truth, the male and female leads had a lot of scenes together—even many intimate ones. From their tightly interwoven reunion, to being soaked together in a rain of heavenly mist, to skin-on-skin contact under the Binding Immortal Rope, to enduring the Cold Ice Cave side by side, and embracing during ascension… But overall, Li Shuang and Si Ye’s love across two lifetimes was filled with angst. The tragedies of the Li and Si families made it even heavier—painful both physically and emotionally.

Gu Sheng went over the key points of the plot and said with certainty, “Li Shuang is a very conflicted person.”

Wen Heng nodded and explained, “Si Ye used up his life’s cultivation to return to the day they first met. That moment is absolutely critical. Love and hate coexist in Li Shuang—her inner conflict even makes her hate herself…”

Wen Heng had been the first in the industry to get the script. He’d started studying it even before the production team was finalized. If he hadn’t thought through everything thoroughly, he wouldn’t have taken the role.

And most importantly—something many actors overlooked—he’d read the original novel in full and deeply understood the emotions the author had poured into each character.

Gu Sheng felt something click.

She had to admit—Wen Heng was a good teacher. This was something she herself hadn’t managed to do.

Just a few lines of acting with him, and it was like she was already inhabiting Li Shuang. The emotions surged up from her chest.

Wen Heng had even directly treated her as the female lead while rehearsing.

It was rare for the two of them to have such a calm, focused conversation—no system interruptions, no sudden waves of pain, no need for pain relief.

Wen Heng’s pupils were fixed deeply on Gu Sheng.

He thought: Fu Shan could never understand her soul. Because they—he and Gu Sheng—were the same kind.

The CP system sobbed emotionally: “Soul resonance! A match made in heaven! I’m tired of saying it already TAT.”

Gu Sheng finally pulled herself out of the character’s emotions and suddenly realized something from the system’s voice.

—Wen Heng? Teaching her?

—This? “Super Insightful Coaching”?

Another damn CP-themed reward?!

Where was her industry mentor? Her veteran senior?

Wen Heng was steadying his focus and just about to say something when Gu Sheng suddenly grabbed him by the neck. “Damn it!”

Wen Heng, caught off guard by fate strangling his throat: “?”

…Huh?

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