Chapter 4: The Slip Dress

The time had come for the Moonlight production team to hold open auditions, and all the actors scheduled for auditions arrived at the designated hotel.

Given Director Qin’s fame and the reputation as the screenwriter, many well-known young actresses, including some first and second-tier stars, had shown up. However, older, more established actresses didn’t attend. With their qualifications, auditioning alongside younger, lesser-known actresses felt beneath them. Moreover, many of these veteran actresses knew Director Qin’s style—he preferred casting fresh, young talent. There was no point in them showing up just to be placeholders.

When Lin Qian arrived at the audition venue, she had expected to see Tong Yue, but Tong Yue was nowhere to be found.

In her past life, Lin Qian had heard that Tong Yue, despite her established fame, had humbled herself and attended the auditions like any unknown newcomer.

But even if Tong Yue had done that, it might have only fueled rumors that the lead role had already been pre-decided and that everyone else was just there to make up the numbers. And even if it wasn’t pre-arranged, how many newcomers could compete with a seasoned actress in terms of acting skills?

“Did Tong Yue not come?” Lin Qian asked, not one of the other auditioning girls, but the fox spirit hiding in the shadows.

“No, she didn’t,” the fox answered.

Hearing this, Lin Qian frowned. She had hoped Tong Yue would show up—it would have generated more buzz.

Could it be that her own rebirth had caused a ripple effect, preventing Tong Yue from coming? Or was Tong Yue simply planning to arrive later?

That made sense—Tong Yue was an A-list star; she’d surely show up last to make an entrance.

However, Tong Yue did not go to the Moonlight auditions at all. Instead, she was watching the livestream.

The Moonlight production team’s live-streamed audition process attracted a large audience.

As expected, Lin Qian smoothly secured the lead female role. That very morning, Tong Yue’s agent had called to inform her that the Moonlight production team had invited her to make a cameo appearance as a supporting character.

Tong Yue had no interest in a cameo. She hadn’t built her career on Director Qin’s films and saw no need to give him any special consideration or appear in his projects as a supporting character.

Tong Yue felt confident in her current backing, even if she ended up divorcing her influential husband in the future. Her brother still worked closely with him, and the Tong family still relied on the Meng family. Plus, her husband had promised to continue providing her with resources. She wasn’t worried.

If they couldn’t stay married, they could always just be like siblings.

“What are you watching that’s got you so excited?” Meng Yuqi asked as he descended the stairs, noticing Tong Yue sitting in the living room, eyes glued to her iPad, munching on chips with great interest.

“A livestream,” Tong Yue explained. “I was originally going to audition, but then I realized that director prefers using newcomersw. I’ll let him do just that. After all, I prefer roles where I come with my own investment.”

Indeed, Tong Yue often joined productions with financial backing. If the Meng Group didn’t invest, then it would be the Tong family’s company that provided funds.

From Tong Yue’s perspective, if a project was profitable, it made sense for her family to have a stake in it. And if they couldn’t get in, no hard feelings.

Not every production company was interested in working with the Tong family—they valued investment from the Meng Group more. Big productions preferred the Meng Group to take the lion’s share, leaving Tong’s family to scrape up the leftovers.

“Your acting awards are well-earned,” Meng Yuqi said. He hadn’t bought Tong Yue’s international film awards—those weren’t easy to purchase unless they were small, obscure prizes.

“That doesn’t stop me from bringing my own funding to productions, though.” Tong Yue winked at him.

“True.” Meng Yuqi smiled and nodded.

Even though Tong Yue hadn’t auditioned for the Moonlight production, the media still brought her into the spotlight.

Some rumors claimed that Tong Yue had originally planned to audition but acted like a diva, refusing to audition alongside newcomers and demanding a private session with the casting team.

Others speculated… well, many bloggers used the word “allegedly,” carefully toeing the line to attract attention without confirming anything.

The Moonlight team’s official social media page posted a statement, insisting that there were no backdoor deals for roles.

Tong Yue’s response : Damn it! Calm down, calm down. I’m a goddess now. Let me cast a little curse—sunny when you leave home, but rain pours down while you’re out, drenching you like a soaked chicken.

At that moment, a dragon ascended into the sky. Just as the Moonlight production team was leaving the casting venue for a celebratory dinner, rain came down in torrents the moment they stepped out of their cars in front of the restaurant, drenching them completely.

At the Monster Management Bureau, a team leader was reviewing the weather forecast. According to the reports, there shouldn’t have been rain. So why was there a sudden downpour in just one spot?

Dragon : I have no idea what happened. I just felt like it should rain.

The dragon, perplexed, couldn’t explain why he had suddenly woken up and decided to cause a rainstorm.

Fortunately, there were no gods in this world—just monsters. Right? He was probably just cranky from waking up. Surely he hadn’t been manipulated by something strange.

After comforting himself with that thought, the dragon stopped pondering. He headed to the ocean, eager to eat some fish and replenish his strength.

Meanwhile, Lin Qian had also been soaked by the rain. All she had done was take the role intended for Tong Yue, so why was she being punished with a downpour? Was heaven sending her a warning?

No, Lin Qian told herself. She had been reborn, and she needed to seize every opportunity.

She couldn’t just watch as opportunities slipped through her fingers. This new life meant that the role didn’t necessarily have to belong to Tong Yue.

If she wasn’t going to fight for it, then why was she even reborn?

Lin Qian steeled herself. There was no need to be afraid—getting caught in the rain only made her more alert.

She wouldn’t always be competing with the same person for roles, and it wasn’t easy to win every time. This was just her trying to compete, not steal.

Next time, she would fight for other roles. Tong Yue might be popular, but she had strong backing. Lin Qian wouldn’t be able to take her on easily unless Tong Yue lost those powerful connections.

“That was a dragon,” the fox spirit told Lin Qian.

“There are other creatures in this world?” Lin Qian was shocked.

“Of course,” the fox rolled its eyes. “Be careful. You don’t want to cross paths with them.”

Especially those who worked for the Monster Management Bureau—those monsters weren’t to be messed with.

That evening, Tong Yue and Meng Yuqi headed to the Meng family home. They often spent time with family, taking turns between meals at each other’s homes.

Though Meng Yuqi wished they could spend more time alone, Tong Yue still believed he only saw her as a convenient cover.

Sigh, does he really like men? Or is he still waiting for his first love? Tong Yue thought as they arrived at the Meng residence.

“We’re staying here tonight!” Meng Yuqi growled internally. Who the hell likes men? The only one I like is you!

Naturally, the Meng family hoped Tong Yue and Meng Yuqi would stay the night. Their bedroom had already been prepared, immaculately clean, with even some “precautionary” items ready.

Meng Yuqi’s mother didn’t look down on Tong Yue, even though she was the daughter of their ex-driver. She wasn’t foolish—business marriages didn’t guarantee happiness, regardless of status.

What mattered was that Tong Yue had practically grown up around them. They knew her well, and Meng Yuqi had kept an eye on her for years. There was no reason to oppose it.

“Are you taking a break? If so, you should stay at home for a few days,” Meng Yuqi’s mother said with a smile. “No need to wake up too early in the morning.”

Whenever Tong Yue stayed at the Meng family’s home, she always got up early. She didn’t go into the kitchen to cook, but she kept Meng Yuqi’s mother company, playing piano for her or chatting to keep her in good spirits.

After all, Tong Yue had gained so much from the Meng family. The Tong family’s fortune was largely built on their reliance on the Mengs.

Tong Yue thought: This flattery is worth it!

Moreover, the Meng family members were genuinely kind, and Tong Yue truly respected Madam Meng. She did feel some guilt about deceiving her by marrying Meng Yuqi under a contract.

“Young people, don’t work so hard,” Madam Meng said, winking playfully at Tong Yue.

Tong Yue thought to herself: Is this a hint? Is she implying I’ll be too exhausted to get out of bed?

“You really don’t need to get up so early,” Meng Yuqi added, purposely teasing, “It might make your legs weak.”

“Brother Yuqi!” Tong Yue blushed with embarrassment, almost furious. What did he mean by that?

“Suspended wire work must be uncomfortable, right?” Meng Yuqi said. In truth, he really did want to tire her out completely; otherwise, he’d feel guilty knowing her true thoughts.

Tong Yue’s inner thoughts were like a barrage of comments in an online video, and Meng Yuqi found her even more intriguing because of it.

“Yeah, a bit,” Tong Yue replied, relieved that she had misunderstood. She had been too sensitive.

I’m a goddess now; no way could my legs give out so easily, Tong Yue thought.

Meng Yuqi, on the other hand, was eager to test Tong Yue’s endurance, curious if she could indeed resist fatigue.

That night, the two of them were in the same bedroom, which featured a massive bed. As Madam Meng had said, “The bed is big—feel free to roll around as you like.”

After her bath, Tong Yue came out wearing a silk slip dress.

When she saw Meng Yuqi, her mind drifted to a novel she had recently read.

Is this outfit a bit too revealing? she thought. But I am wearing underwear.

“Wearing a bra to bed isn’t good for you,” Meng Yuqi commented, having overheard her inner thoughts.

“What?” Tong Yue thought she had misheard.

“That nightgown looks great,” Meng Yuqi quickly corrected, clearing his throat. Given their current situation, discussing whether to wear sleepwear was probably not appropriate.

His gaze wandered over her curvy figure, and he imagined how much more noticeable the curves would be if she weren’t wearing a bra.

As that thought crossed his mind, he felt a sudden warmth in his nose.

“It’s summer; there’s no need to wear anything too thick,” Meng Yuqi said, thinking that if he couldn’t touch, at least he could admire. Lighter clothing was certainly cooler.

Tong Yue glanced at her nightgown and regretted her choice: Oh no, there’s lace on the sides—too seductive, isn’t it?

She then looked at Meng Yuqi again and, seeing no reaction from him, sighed in relief: As expected, CEO Meng is CEO Meng. He’s totally composed, not even a hint of excitement. No appeal, no appeal at all.

“I’ll go take a shower!” Meng Yuqi announced. If he didn’t take a cold shower soon, he’d literally start bleeding from the nose.

Why does she have so many thoughts running through her head? he wondered. She says she’s not trying to seduce me, but could she at least stop overthinking everything?

He was on the verge of losing control! Wasn’t she actually seducing him? He really wanted to just pounce on her!