Chen Yang stayed with the crew for the morning but didn’t linger long. The afternoon’s scenes focused primarily on Liang Hao and Qi Yunrou. Since the earlier crying scenes were deemed unsatisfactory, the director insisted on reshooting them.

Qin Yunrou spent all morning working through her scenes. By afternoon, Yuan Xi brought a small notebook to the set, seeing that though Qi Yunrou’s acting left much to be desired, Liang Hao’s performance was quite impressive. Yuan Xi decided to observe Liang Hao closely, hoping to find valuable techniques he could learn from.

Once filming started, Qi Yunrou resorted to using eyedrops for her crying scene.

Her expression was stiff, her eyes unnaturally wide, but devoid of any real emotion.

Yuan Xi couldn’t help but frown after just one glance. With acting like this… Did the director even hold auditions? Or was she cast purely for her fame?

Curious, Yuan Xi turned to check the director’s reaction. Sure enough, the director’s expression was far from pleased as he watched the monitor. When his gaze shifted to Qi Yunrou, his face grew visibly colder.

The mood on set turned tense. They had barely started shooting, yet the first hurdle had already appeared making everyone in the crew looked uneasy. Liang Hao who had been watching Qi Yunrou’s performance, wore an awkward expression. Meeting the director’s sharp gaze, he felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Qi Yunrou was well aware of her shortcomings. When the director called “Cut!” her face flushed bright red with shame and frustration. She repeatedly bowed and apologized to the director.

Qi Yunrou’s stunning looks only amplified her appeal. Her aggrieved and humiliated expression softened many hearts among the crew, especially the men. Even the rugged director, who was clearly fuming inside, found himself unable to lash out at her.

With a heavy sigh, the director pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged his temples. “Liang Hao, go over and explain how this scene should be played.”

Squatting quietly in a corner, Yuan Xi glanced at the pair as they started rehearsing together. Then, noticing the strained expressions on the rest of the crew, he called out to Cheng Xiaoke and gestured her over.

“Go buy some drinks and snacks to share with everyone,” Yuan Xi instructed. “And make sure the drinks are cold—we need something to cool the tempers around here.”

Liang Hao stood in front of Qi Yunrou with the script in hand, explaining the scene based on his understanding. He broke down the emotions and actions described in the script, carefully walking her through the details.

However, when he finished speaking and looked up, he noticed Qi Yunrou’s vacant expression. Her eyes were unfocused, lacking any spark, and it was clear her mind was elsewhere.

Even though Liang Hao usually had a good impression of Qi Yunrou and maintained a friendly relationship with her, her absent-mindedness made him visibly annoyed.

“Xiao Rou, what are you thinking about? We’re discussing the script right now. Do you have any questions or anything you don’t understand?” His tone turned serious, and the slight furrow of his sharp eyebrows made his dissatisfaction plain.

Snapping out of her daze and sensing Liang Hao’s displeasure, Qi Yunrou blinked, then gave him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I got a little distracted just now,” she admitted, tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her lips were pale, and she appeared somewhat frail. “Brother Liang, I’m not feeling well today. Could I take a break and reschedule the shoot for another day?”

Liang Hao’s irritation faded, replaced by concern as he noticed her pallor. His gaze lingered on her pale lips before he spoke gently.

“What’s wrong? Where do you feel unwell? Go speak to the director and request some time off. We can reschedule your scenes and focus on filming others for now.”

Qi Yunrou gave him a soft, grateful smile, her eyes glistening slightly. “Thank you, Brother Liang.”

By the time Cheng Xiaoke returned with the drinks, the crew was already wrapping up for the day. Yuan Xi sat on a small folding stool, propping his chin on one hand, his brows furrowed tightly like a pair of caterpillars.

“Brother Yuan, what’s going on? No more filming?”

“Yeah, our leading lady isn’t feeling well, so she’s taken a leave,” Yuan Xi replied, standing up and patting the dust off his pants before folding up his stool.

Cheng Xiaoke glanced at the drinks in her hands, then at the crew packing up their gear. “So… Brother Yuan, what should we do with these drinks? Should we still pass them out?”

“Pass them out? What for? Just drink them yourselves,” Yuan Xi said, eyeing the icy beverages in her hands. Though he didn’t recognize the brand, it was obvious they weren’t cheap.

With the shoot canceled, his chance to observe and learn had vanished, and since the director was no longer upset, there was no need to use the drinks to “cool tempers.” They might as well enjoy them themselves.

“Uh…” Cheng Xiaoke looked at the box of drinks she was holding, then remembered the other two boxes still in the car. She swallowed nervously before speaking cautiously. “Brother Yuan, can we even finish three boxes ourselves?”

Yuan Xi paused for a moment, then pulled out his phone and sent a message to Fu Yunzhou. After receiving a reply, he looked up at Cheng Xiaoke.

“Have Zhang Yan deliver these to Manager Yun. Leave half a box for yourselves to enjoy.”

Cheng Xiaoke blinked in confusion. “Why not just give them to the crew? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

Yuan Xi tucked his phone away and glanced at Qi Yunrou, who was standing nearby. “Because I don’t want people I dislike enjoying something I provided. Besides, it’s not even my turn to film today. When my scenes come up, that’s when I’ll start building goodwill.”

Cheng Xiaoke stared at the drinks in her hands, falling into a brief silence. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around Brother Yuan’s logic. Does even winning people over require timing?

With Qi Yunrou taking a leave of absence, the afternoon scenes were once again postponed. The carefully planned schedule had to be reworked, yet again. Though the director was deeply frustrated, he had no choice but to accept the situation. With actors like Bi Yingying and Liang Hao on the cast, his authority, while significant, paled in comparison to the influence of capital.

In the end, the so-called power of directors was no more than a fleeting illusion under the weight of corporate interests.

Back in his room, Yuan Xi settled down with the script in hand, delving into his character study.

His role as Xia Xi culminated in a powerful crying scene near the story’s conclusion. It marked the moment when Xia Xi fully saw through his situation, choosing to become independent and no longer rely on his elder brother. The scene required a radiant smile—a smile of newfound clarity and determination. Yet beneath that smile lingered a deep sense of reluctance, a bittersweet farewell to the past.

The challenge lay in portraying the courage and resolve to move forward, all while carrying the emotional weight of letting go. Yuan Xi read the lines over and over, picturing the emotions he needed to convey, immersing himself in the complex layers of Xia Xi’s journey.

Initially, Yuan Xi hadn’t thought much about his own crying scene. But after witnessing Qi Yunrou’s lackluster performance, a seed of doubt took root in his mind. When it’s my turn, will I be able to convey the emotions I want?

Caught in this uncertainty, Yuan Xi paced his room with the script in hand, repeatedly analyzing his lines and the character’s emotions.

Meanwhile, Cheng Xiaoke followed Yuan Xi’s instructions, leaving half a box of drinks in the car’s mini fridge and loading the rest into the vehicle. She tasked Zhang Yan with delivering them to the headquarters of the Fu Corporation.

In the garage, as Cheng Xiaoke closed the car door after securing the drinks, a familiar figure caught her eye.

Qi Yunrou, wearing oversized sunglasses, followed her assistant closely and quickly got into a black sedan. Moments later, the car pulled out of the garage and disappeared down the street.

Cheng Xiaoke frowned in confusion but didn’t dwell on it. After tidying up and ensuring everything was in order, she prepared to head upstairs. Meanwhile, Zhang Yan drove off with the drinks, en route to Fu Yunzhou’s company.

Shortly after Cheng Xiaoke left, a silver sedan, tucked discreetly in the corner of the garage, started its engine and followed Zhang Yan’s vehicle out of the lot.

Inside the elevator, Cheng Xiaoke refreshed her Weibo feed and stumbled upon breaking news. The delayed announcement had finally made waves: The lead actress of “ Beauties in Makeup,” Zhang Qiqi, has been injured and is unable to continue filming. As a result, her contract with the production team has been terminated, and the crew has officially begun casting for a new lead actress.

As expected, the comments section below the news was flooded with familiar names of actresses.

Fans wasted no time, with supporters of various celebrities passionately campaigning for their idols to secure the role. The frenzy was evident in every post, as enthusiasm reached a fever pitch.

Glancing through the list of names, Cheng Xiaoke confirmed that Qi Yunrou’s name wasn’t among them. Satisfied, she slipped her phone back into her pocket.

Meanwhile, in his room, Yuan Xi was still immersed in his script, trying to channel the emotions for his crying scene. However, Xia Xi’s climactic moment required a level of emotional depth Yuan Xi had never experienced. The raw vulnerability and complex feelings needed for the scene eluded him, leaving him unsure how to approach it.

Sitting there with the script in hand, Yuan Xi’s gaze grew distant. He couldn’t believe his first major challenge as an actor had been inspired by Qi Yunrou’s lackluster performance—and now, it had truly stumped him.

For Yuan Xi, encountering a problem meant finding a solution. Unlike Qi Yunrou, he wasn’t one to dwell on frustration or avoid the issue. The moment he realized he was struggling, his first instinct was to seek help.

Without hesitation, Yuan Xi picked up his phone and called Fu Yunzhou.

On the other end, Fu Yunzhou listened to Yuan Xi’s earnest questions about acting, his lips twitching as he silently massaged his temples. Acting advice? From him?

“Xiao Xi, I’m not an actor, so I really don’t understand these kinds of issues,” Fu Yunzhou said patiently. “Shouldn’t you call your acting coach? Or maybe ask your agent to find you a tutor?”

Hearing this, Yuan Xi felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He scratched his face awkwardly, his cheeks flushing bright red.

What was he thinking? He scolded himself internally. Of course, his male god wouldn’t know about acting techniques! He works in an entertainment company, not an actor!

Realizing his mistake, Yuan Xi quickly apologized, then hastily ended the call. He immediately dialed his acting coach, Xu Guoyi, for help.

As the line rang, Yuan Xi couldn’t help but replay the soft chuckle Fu Yunzhou let out before the call ended. That low, gentle laugh lingered in his mind, making his ears tingle and his cheeks grow even hotter.

It took considerable effort to shake off the memory of that laugh and focus as Xu Guoyi answered the phone. Yuan Xi steeled himself and earnestly began discussing his concerns, determined to solve his problem.

While Yuan Xi spent the rest of the day absorbing knowledge and refining his understanding, Xia Xinru walked into the director’s office holding a stack of photographs.

After an afternoon of discussions with Xu Guoyi, Yuan Xi finally pinpointed the source of his struggles. The following morning, knowing he had a scene to shoot, Yuan Xi prepared early, bringing Cheng Xiaoke with him to the set.

As soon as they stepped onto the set, Yuan Xi immediately noticed something was off. The atmosphere felt heavy, far more unusual than it had been the day before. A strange tension hung in the air, and it made him instinctively cautious.

The tense atmosphere on set became even more palpable when Qi Yunrou arrived. It was as though everyone was holding their breath, afraid to make a sound.

Yuan Xi glanced at the director and noticed his grim expression. Standing next to him, Liang Hao looked equally uncomfortable. Around them, the assistant directors and crew members busied themselves with anything they could find, making a point to steer clear of the director as if they feared becoming collateral damage.

Not understanding the cause of this heavy mood, Yuan Xi stood awkwardly in place. After a moment, the assistant director noticed him and quickly ushered him into the makeup room.

Inside the private makeup room, the assistant director shut the door and leaned against it with a relieved sigh.

The makeup artist also relaxed visibly, but curiosity got the better of her. As she began working on Yuan Xi, she cautiously asked. “Director Zhang, what’s going on with Director Yu? The atmosphere’s been so tense since this morning—it’s terrifying!”

Director Zhang wiped his forehead, frustration written all over his face. “What else? Someone in the cast has gotten too big for their britches. They think our ‘small production’ isn’t worth their time. It’s barely the beginning of filming, and they’re already looking for an exit. Of course, Director Yu’s furious.”

Hearing this, Yuan Xi’s first thought was that the culprit had to be Qi Yunrou.

The makeup artist, oblivious to the undercurrents, looked genuinely surprised. “Who would do that? Sure, we’re not a big-budget production, but we’re not bad either!”

Director Zhang let out a derisive laugh, glancing at the makeup artist with a touch of sarcasm in his tone. “Compared to Beauties in Makeup, we’re practically a nobody. To some people, this set must feel like a joke.”

The makeup artist wisely chose to keep her thoughts to herself. After all, Beauties in Makeup was indeed a major production, with an investment four to five times greater than their small set’s budget. Add in the fact that their rival director was also a well-known figure in the industry, and the contrast couldn’t have been starker. By comparison, their production really did seem like a small-time operation.

The recent buzz about the female lead of Beauties in Makeup being replaced had already made waves online. Now that Director Zhang had hinted at the situation, it was easy for anyone to piece together which actress on their set might have gotten ambitious and tried to jump ship.

Yuan Xi listened silently to the conversation between the assistant director and the makeup artist, choosing not to interject. Still, he couldn’t help but connect the dots himself, finally understanding why the atmosphere between Liang Hao and the director was so awkward earlier.

After a few deep sighs, Director Zhang turned to Yuan Xi, who was getting his makeup done. “Hey, Xiao Yuan, you’re with the same company as you-know-who, right? Did you hear anything about her reaching out to the other production?”

Yuan Xi, who had been obediently sitting still for his makeup, froze for a second, completely caught off guard by the question. He quickly collected himself and replied apologetically. “Um, Director Zhang, my manager is Brother Chen. And, well… Brother Chen and Sister Qi’s manager don’t exactly get along, so I…”

He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid, then offered an awkward smile, hoping to sidestep the topic entirely.

The makeup artist, likely familiar with Director Zhang, couldn’t resist chiming in after hearing his comment. “Miss Qi doesn’t think highly of our Xiao Yuan, and I suspect she even has a grudge against him. Have you heard the rumors going around the set recently? They were spread by none other than Miss Qi herself.”

Director Zhang was taken aback for a moment but nodded, his expression somewhat awkward.

Though he knew that being in the same company didn’t necessarily mean the same manager, he hadn’t expected the tension between Qi Yunrou and Yuan Xi to be so significant. He had heard the rumors circulating recently, but knowing how Yuan Xi had joined the set, he hadn’t paid them much attention. However, the idea that someone might harbor such a deep grudge against Yuan Xi intrigued him. What kind of person would go to such lengths to target him?

Now that he had heard the makeup artist’s revelation, Director Zhang couldn’t help but stroke his chin, mentally reassessing Qi Yunrou’s behavior.

The makeup artist had inadvertently saved Yuan Xi from more discomfort, but Yuan Xi couldn’t help but wonder: if Qi Yunrou had been so subtle, how did so many people already know she was in contact with Beauties in Makeup?

“Director Zhang, how did you find out about Qi Yunrou approaching Beauties in Makeup?” Yuan Xi asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Director Zhang glanced at him, letting out a cold snort. “If you don’t want anyone to know, then don’t do it. Once something’s been done, it’s bound to come to light eventually.”

The makeup artist exchanged a knowing glance with Yuan Xi, both of them sharing a sense of helplessness.

If someone wanted to keep something under wraps, they certainly wouldn’t let it slip in the first place.

Director Zhang sighed again before speaking up. “Last night, Xia Xinru came to the director with a few photos, saying she needed to talk. I was discussing the script with the director at the time, and I happened to glance at the photos. And on those…”

He trailed off, but the others in the room could already guess the rest.

If something was enough to upset the director, it was definitely serious.

=^_^=