The assistant director walked over as soon as he spotted He Han.

Turning to Ye Fan, he said, “He Han is playing the role of Shen Yuan.”

“The director is waiting for you both in the room. You’ll be performing a scene together.”

This scene had been added at the assistant director’s last-minute suggestion.

Previously, since He Han wasn’t available, all the audition scripts had been solo scenes. But none of the performances had been very impressive.

Now that He Han was here, pairing him with Ye Fan might bring out a better performance.

Upon hearing this, He Han’s expression remained calm and indifferent. He didn’t react, nor did he object to the idea.

Ye Fan paused for a moment. “I was given a solo script.”

Just then, the assistant who had been sent off earlier returned with a new script in hand.

The assistant director handed it straight to Ye Fan. “We’re switching to a new one.”

A short while later, Ye Fan and He Han began their scene.

Almost instantly, the emotions between them took hold of everyone in the room, drawing them in completely.

……

Inside the prison, under the cover of night.

Yao Guang leaned against the cold, stone wall, her posture upright and composed—showing no trace of distress.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed—unhurried and steady, drawing closer from the distance.

Yao Guang lifted her eyes.

What entered her sight first was a pair of black embroidered boots. Her gaze traveled upward—dark robes came next, the hem subtly adorned with intricate patterns.

In the pitch-black night, moonlight streamed into the cell. Bit by bit, the pale glow lit up the man’s face.

Her eyes continued upward, meeting a cold, strikingly handsome face—one that slowly overlapped with the image in her memory.

Yao Guang raised her head, her gaze fixed on the tall, stern man before her.

Her eyes flickered slightly. She parted her lips and slowly spoke his name.

“Shen Yuan.”

In the stillness of the cell, her cool, clear voice rang out: “Or perhaps now… I should call you Prime Minister Shen.”

Shen Yuan lowered his gaze, looking down at the woman in the cell.

This was a dark, shadowy prison, the corners swallowed by endless black. Yet Yao Guang still carried herself with the same grace and dignity—as poised as the day they first met.

His eyes were deep, as dark and unreadable as the night itself.

Then Shen Yuan spoke, calling her name.

“Yao Guang.”

She looked up at him, as if glimpsing fragments of the past. Her expression was calm, composed, and unwavering.

“It’s been a long time,” she said softly. “I suppose congratulations are in order—your power now reaches every corner of the court.”

When they first met, he had been a hostage prince from a neighboring kingdom, and she, the princess of Qi.

Now, he stood above all as Prime Minister Shen—while she had become a prisoner in chains.

Shen Yuan’s gaze rested on Yao Guang, his expression unreadable. “The fall of Qi was never my intention.”

Yao Guang looked at him quietly, her voice calm and distant. “You and I becoming enemies… was always inevitable.”

They stared at each other in silence, the air between them utterly still.

No one spoke for a long time.

At last, Shen Yuan broke the silence.

The ever-composed and aloof Prime Minister Shen allowed a rare trace of softness to appear on his face.

His voice echoed through the cold, silent cell, as if cutting through the chill in the air.

“Yao Guang,” he said, “I’m here to take you away.”

Yao Guang froze. For the first time, a flicker of surprise surfaced in her otherwise calm eyes.

Shen Yuan looked at her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He repeated the same words, but this time, his voice carried a firmer, more resolute weight.

“Yao Guang, I’m taking you with me.”

…….

The room fell silent for a brief moment. Ye Fan was a newcomer, while He Han was a seasoned, award-winning actor.

Yet standing opposite He Han, Ye Fan didn’t falter. She followed the script and delivered her performance with composure.

Perhaps He Han had deliberately toned down his intensity—but even so, Ye Fan’s ability to hold her own was beyond anyone’s expectations.

As Ye Fan and He Han performed their scene, everyone watching felt as if they were no longer at an audition.

Like the actors themselves, they had stepped into a long, seemingly endless corridor.

They followed its path, walking deeper and deeper—until they reached the very end.

And there, in a small, cold prison cell, sat a princess whose kingdom had just fallen.

Her expression was resolute. Beneath her pale fragility lay a quiet strength that tugged at the heart.

The director slowly returned to reality, drawn out of the world Ye Fan and He Han had created. A clear smile appeared on his face.

“Ye Fan, you did very well. I look forward to working with you.”

With those words, it was clear—Ye Fan had secured the role.

A week later, Ye Fan received the results of her audition. The final casting for the role of Yao Guang, the fallen princess, had been decided.

She got the part. Once her team and the production crew finalized the schedule, she would officially join the set for filming.

At the same time, the reality show Ye Fan had previously recorded—Let’s Travel—was also about to air.

The trailer had already been released, and countless viewers were eagerly awaiting the premiere.

The first episode of Let’s Travel officially aired.

Thanks to the buzz generated by the earlier livestream, many viewers were already camped out in front of their TVs and computers the moment the show began.

The guests started arriving at the airport.

Ye Fan was dressed in simple, understated clothes. Gu Yachen wore flawless makeup, while Ding Ruoyi gave off a sweet, girl-next-door vibe.

Li Qiong radiated the presence of an international superstar, while Tang Jin, surprisingly, remained quiet this time.

Right from the start, the live comments began flooding in.

“Look at Gu Yachen—does she think she’s walking the red carpet or something? This is a travel show!”

“Ye Fan is so low-key, and she’s gorgeous no matter what she wears. Just a plain white T-shirt, and she still looks better than Gu Yachen all dolled up.”

A group of beautiful celebrities boarded a plane bound for Austria.

After landing, they took a pre-arranged shuttle bus to the house provided by the production team. Once they chose someone to manage the group’s money, each guest headed to their room.

Everyone was exhausted, so filming wouldn’t officially begin until the next day.

After entering her room, Ye Fan remained cautious. She locked her money in a drawer, wary of the production team. Since filming hadn’t officially started, none of this was shown to the viewers.

As the screen gradually darkened, a line of text appeared against the black background, summarizing events that happened off-camera:

“That afternoon, Ding Ruoyi fell ill due to the change in climate. Upon discovering this, Ye Fan took money and went out to buy her medicine.”

The TV screen gradually brightened, and the camera focused on Ye Fan.

Since Ye Fan was heading out to buy medicine, the production team sent a cameraman to follow her every move.

At the pharmacy, Ye Fan spoke fluent English.

She quickly paid for the medicine and placed it in her bag.

On the way back, Ye Fan stopped by a Chinese restaurant.

She told the staff she wanted some congee and side dishes. As the food was still being prepared, she placed her bag on the table and sat down, patiently waiting.

“Wow, she’s so thoughtful—she knew Ding Ruoyi wasn’t feeling well and went out of her way to help.”

“I’m a fan now! Ye Fan is really such a warm person.”

When the dishes were ready, Ye Fan stood up to collect them.

At that moment, the cameraman followed her, the lens tracking her every step.

The bag left on the table was not caught by the camera. Viewers assumed that the wallet was simply inside Ye Fan’s bag.

When Ye Fan went to pick up the food, she didn’t take her bag with her, leading viewers to speculate that the money might have been lost at that moment.

“Do you think the money might’ve been lost then?”

“Who knows what could happen off-camera? Ye Fan is really unfortunate. She was so kind to buy medicine and congee for Ding Ruoyi, but then lost her money and got slammed by the viewers.”

Ye Fan had already retrieved the congee. She returned to her previous spot, grabbed her bag, and left the restaurant.

The house wasn’t far, and not wanting to waste money, Ye Fan took a few shortcuts before returning to the house.

As soon as she entered, she called out.

“Ruoyi, I’m back.”

Then, holding the congee and medicine, Ye Fan walked into Ding Ruoyi’s room.

The screen gradually faded to black as an advertisement cut in.

After the commercial, the program resumed.

The camera crew was supposed to follow Ye Fan closely throughout the shoot, yet they missed the crucial moment when she entered the room to search for her wallet.

What happened next was even more puzzling.

Ye Fan walked out of her room, her expression hurried, and told the production team, “My money is missing.”

She had clearly placed the money in the drawer, taking only some small change with her.

This meant the money had been taken from her room, not lost outside.

However, when Ye Fan entered her room and found the lock had been tampered with and the money gone, no cameraman was there to capture the moment.

The production team intentionally skipped filming this part, leading viewers to believe that Ye Fan had lost her money outside.

Immediately, the screen was flooded with comments.

“Why was the part where Ye Fan came home and found her money missing left out of the main footage?”

“1! As soon as Ye Fan gets home, the next shot is her saying she lost her money. Ding Ruoyi was sick, and this important moment wasn’t filmed? Why didn’t the cameraman follow Ye Fan into her room?”

But some viewers noticed something off.

“Am I the only one who finds this strange? Did Ye Fan really take all her money with her? Most people wouldn’t bring that much cash out—they’d leave it in their room.”

“Did Ye Fan lose her money outside, or was it in her room? If it was in her room, then the production team is definitely up to something.”

At first, the viewers’ suspicions were quickly deleted by the production team.

They knew that Ye Fan had just debuted, had a small following, and picking on a rising star wouldn’t be a big deal.

Ye Fan’s agency, Hua Rui, wasn’t a large company, and they wouldn’t dare confront the production team directly if she were wronged.

Otherwise, the production team could easily spread rumors about Ye Fan being difficult or refusing to follow instructions. Such rumors would ruin her reputation—devastating for a newcomer.

What’s more, the director had already accepted money from Tang Jin’s team, and all the arrangements in the show had been promised to them.

By that point, what had happened in Austria couldn’t be revealed—they would make sure no one found out the truth.

Unexpectedly, posts questioning the situation started appearing on various gossip forums.

Some even wrote long posts, analyzing the production team’s intentions. Was it all just for the sake of the show’s drama, or was there something more behind it?

The production team frantically deleted posts, trying to control the narrative. Whether on gossip forums or social media platforms like Weibo, netizens were buzzing about the situation.

However, their speed in deleting posts couldn’t keep up with how fast the posts were being made.

“Earlier, they released a short video that misled everyone into thinking Ye Fan had carelessly lost her money, making her the target of insults for so long. Even if Ye Fan earns the money back, is the production team just going to pretend nothing happened?”

“The official account has been silent since this afternoon, pretending like nothing’s wrong. Did the production team swallow those footage clips? Either release the footage of Ye Fan searching through her wallet or come forward with an explanation!”

“Something must be said to clear Ye Fan’s name. Do they think the viewers are blind? #GiveYeFanJustice #PleaseProductionTeamExplain”

Netizens relentlessly questioned and criticized the production team on the official “Go Travel” account, and shared screenshots of deleted posts on forums.

The truth was being covered up by the production team, and anyone with a sharp eye could tell that something was off with the show.

Anyone who spoke in defense of the production team was immediately labeled as a paid troll.

On a popular gossip forum, nearly every post on the homepage was related to this incident—out of ten posts, nine were about the issue!

On Weibo, the hashtag #GiveYeFanJustice began to gain momentum, with the number of posts and views skyrocketing.

The trending topic “Ye Fan Was Wronged” quickly surged from number twenty to the top ten on Weibo’s trending list, and then shot to number one.

In a short time, the search volume exceeded 4.5 million, and the topic went viral!

By this point, the situation had completely spiraled out of the production team’s control.

They were finally in full panic mode.

=^_^=