Chapter 81: Who Doesn’t Enjoy Watching Their Peers’ Drama?

Mu Ruo: “…”

Seeing this obviously passive-aggressive statement, Mu Ruo felt a pang of unease.

She thought to herself that she was probably going to get scolded again.

In fact, this kind of scenario had played out many times in the original novel.

Xia Wanwan, after all, was the female lead. From the reader’s perspective, she always seemed smart and kind, yet constantly bullied by supporting characters.

So, whenever Xia Wanwan expressed her difficulties and grievances to the public, she would garner sympathy from a crowd of people.

Mu Ruo glanced at the number of comments on Xia Wanwan’s Weibo post. As expected, people loved to dig into such juicy gossip with potential for drama. In no time, the comment section had exceeded ten thousand.

It didn’t take much imagination to figure out that Mu Ruo, as the designated antagonist, was the one being criticized.

Mu Ruo didn’t have time to dwell on it, as it was time for her to film.

This particular scene involved wire work and was physically demanding. The martial arts director came over to give her a lengthy explanation.

Mu Ruo listened attentively, nodding lightly, and gripped the weapon in her hand.

“3, 2, 1, action!”

As snowflakes filled the air, Mu Ruo moved swiftly through the sky, wielding her sword with graceful precision. Her movements flowed seamlessly from one to the next.

Because there were many actors in this scene, one or two of them occasionally made small mistakes during the fight.

Director Song Chu was known for his high standards, so they had to do several retakes. By the time they finished, two hours had passed.

When Mu Ruo was finally lowered from the wires, she was nearly frozen stiff. She stepped forward to accept a cup of warm jujube tea from Wang Zifan, smiling at her, “Thanks, Sister Fan.”

Wang Zifan noticed how noble and cold Mu Ruo looked in the scene, yet off-screen, her big, watery eyes curved into a sweet smile. It instantly melted her heart.

To be honest, Wang Zifan thought, with such a beautiful and hardworking girl, even another woman would want to be close to her.

Song Chu looked at Mu Ruo and, for once, showed a hint of appreciation before turning back to the martial arts director to discuss the scene with the male actor who had kept making mistakes.

“Shooting fight scenes like this is no easy task,” Wang Zifan sighed. “Ruo Ruo, you have a dance background, right? That high kick followed by the sword move was impressive. Most people can’t even manage a full split while suspended in mid-air.”

Mu Ruo nodded. She did have a dance background and had filmed fight scenes before.

However, the director she encountered in the real world was much harsher than Director Song.

Back then, as an inexperienced newcomer without any connections, Mu Ruo was left hanging from wires under the scorching sun for two hours during the height of summer. By the time she was finally lowered, she was on the verge of passing out from heatstroke.

In Director Song Chu’s crew, Mu Ruo found herself relatively comfortable.

Since the wire work was necessary for the scene, Song Chu didn’t bully her just because she was a newcomer.

“The New Year is almost here. We’ll be heading back to Rongcheng in a few days,” Wang Zifan took a deep breath. “After a ten-day break, we’ll start shooting again. Your movie is set to release on the first day of the Lunar New Year, right? I’ll be booking out a theater to support it.”

Hearing this, Mu Ruo suddenly remembered Xia Wanwan’s retweet on Weibo.

She went back to check the comments.

Sure enough, the comment section was a battlefield.

Fortunately, there weren’t too many mentions of Mu Ruo yet, but the first comment she saw nearly floored her.

“Director Zhao Jie is just garbage. If he didn’t want to keep Wanwan’s scenes, he shouldn’t have cast her in the first place. Wasting her time and cutting all her scenes, what a joke.”

Uh…

Mu Ruo hadn’t expected the fans to lash out at the director.

If it were some lesser-known director, it might be one thing.

But this was Zhao Jie, a top director in the country! The kind of director who could make it onto the international stage!

Wang Zifan and Wu Tong crowded around to see the commotion.

Wang Zifan let out a surprised exclamation, “Whoa, her fans are really something. With just a few words, they’ve pretty much ruined her future.”

For most celebrities, they’d be scrambling to win favor with a director like Zhao Jie.

Allowing fans to attack a top director was like a middle manager letting their subordinates insult their boss to their face.

Wu Tong was just as speechless, “Are her fans all elementary school kids? They dare to diss him like this? And with so many likes too?”

To be honest, Wu Tong was already quite a box office draw among male celebrities, with a strong fanbase and significant spending power. Even so, no matter how bold his fans were, they would never dare to challenge a director of Zhao Jie’s caliber.

At this moment, Xia Wanwan didn’t expect her fans to be so reckless.

In her previous drama, the male lead was a domineering CEO and the female lead was a doctor, deeply in love with each other in a dramatic, intense romance. Xia Wanwan played the role of the male lead’s long-lost sister, who appeared to be a fragile “little white flower” from the slums but was actually a wealthy heiress. Her character’s romantic storyline with a charming, flirtatious young master captivated many young, naive fans when the drama aired.

Xia Wanwan originally posted that Weibo to incite her fans against Mu Ruo. However, her fans misunderstood her intentions and only took the message at face value.

“Cut scenes, huh? Must be the director’s fault. Let’s all go and curse out the director then!”

Who cares if he’s a top director? If you offend Xia Wanwan’s fans, even a big director will get roasted!

Scrolling through the comments, it was clear that the most liked ones were either criticizing the director or attacking the crew. Some fans even dug up old dirt on Zhao Jie, accusing him of cutting all of an actor’s scenes in previous projects.

Recently, Xia Wanwan had risen to sudden fame, and many up-and-coming actresses saw her as a competitor. Now, seeing her fans attacking Zhao Jie, they flocked to the Huoguo movie’s promotional Weibo page to enjoy the drama.

After all, who doesn’t like watching their peers’ mishaps?

The more chaos, the better.

Realizing the situation was getting out of control, Xia Wanwan hurriedly deleted the Weibo post and quickly told her fans not to attack anyone.

Among Xia Wanwan’s fanbase, there were still some rational fans. Seeing that offending a top director could hinder Xia Wanwan’s chances of breaking into the film industry, they started urging others to stop attacking the director. Some even went as far as to encourage everyone to support the movie’s box office performance in an effort to appease Zhao Jie and prevent him from holding a grudge against Xia Wanwan.

In the end, what started as an attempt to stir up trouble ended up unintentionally promoting the movie—completely contrary to Xia Wanwan’s original intent.

The Shengyin crew took a break the day before New Year’s Eve, giving everyone time off to celebrate and then continue after the holiday.

During this time, Mu Ruo had worked hard on set but had genuinely enjoyed filming with everyone.

When she returned to the Fu household late at night, the entire villa was dark, except for the security personnel who opened the gate for her.

Mu Ruo sent a message to Butler Li, but it was late, and he didn’t respond.

She opened Butler Li’s social media feed to see what he was up to.

The latest post: “Paid vacation.”

Attached was the vacation location—some star-rated hotel in the Maldives.

Crap.

Mu Ruo had forgotten that Fu Jianzhi wasn’t the type to overwork his household staff year-round.

On holidays like this, he would give everyone time off.

Working at Fu Jianzhi’s house was much more comfortable than the grueling “996” schedules common in big companies.