Zhuang Qin had just boarded the second leg of his flight. When he was about to open the script to review it, he realized it was missing.
He couldn’t recall where he had lost it, and no matter how hard he tried to remember, it was futile. So, he decided to forget about it for now and figured he would just ask for another copy when he went back to sign the contract with Director Guo.
This flight was going to take nearly fourteen hours. Zhuang Qin didn’t sleep well at all. He hated flying, and even though he was in first class, it didn’t make it any better. His sense of smell was particularly sharp, and the leather seats in the cabin, having been used by many people, gave off a scent that made him uncomfortable.
As soon as the plane landed, someone escorted him off in a low-profile manner. After discreetly leaving the airport, he was immediately ushered into a nanny van.
Sometimes, there would be a big fanfare when he arrived, but that was usually when the news was intentionally leaked ahead of time, ensuring that he’d make the headlines with a few candid photos taken. During those times, Su Min would remind him to dress up a little more carefully.
“Min-jie.” Zhuang Qin got into the van and greeted her dutifully.
Su Min and Xiao Lian were already in the car.
Su Min was the chief agent at Yue Dong Media, managing quite a few artists. Zhuang Qin was not only her top artist but also the company’s biggest star. He wanted to be an actor, but the company was grooming him as an all-round idol.
To be fair, he was quite versatile.
While his acting skills weren’t particularly exceptional, for someone his age, he could still secure roles through his talent alone and even received praise from top directors. He was well-mannered, and his genuine personality during variety shows earned him lots of fans.
As for singing and dancing, that was a given. Zhuang Qin’s childhood was different from most; while others were in school, he was learning from a master, studying Kunqu opera, which gave him a certain proud resilience.
Of course, that also meant he had some shortcomings, like his lack of education. But in the eyes of his fans, nothing could dim their admiration for him. Got the wrong answer in math? Cute! His English not so great? But our Zhuang Qin can perform acrobatics and sing Kunqu! Can your idol do that?
It’s hard not to like an idol like this, so Yue Dong Media poured all their resources into promoting him. Coupled with his own determination and willingness to work hard, he became famous quickly.
“I want to know, what exactly did you say to President Shen the other day? You just turned down one role, and now he’s pulling all your resources?” Su Min had just heard the news that Zhuang Qin’s resources were cut.
She couldn’t believe the company would make such a decision. She thought it would just be a minor punishment, but instead, they gave all of Zhuang Qin’s allocated resources to someone else!
“I didn’t say much, just expressed my wishes,” Zhuang Qin replied. He wanted the freedom to choose his roles, but he knew the company would never agree. So, he took the opportunity to escalate things with the higher-ups, using the fact that President Shen’s daughter was a fan of his to provoke him. He ended up signing an unequal bet agreement with the company: he had to earn two hundred million yuan within two years. If he succeeded, the company wouldn’t take any commission, and after taxes, the money would go to him. If he failed, he would not only work for free for two years but also have to extend his contract for another ten years.
The agreement was confidential, so Su Min wasn’t aware of it yet.
Su Min furrowed her brows angrily. “Then go and apologize! Do you know that your role was taken by Zheng Fengbai? And even your shampoo endorsement for next quarter—he took that too!”
“Zheng Fengbai?”
Zhuang Qin was a little surprised.
Zheng Fengbai was another big name at Yue Dong Media, managed by Rose, one of the company’s two top agents alongside Su Min.
“He holds a grudge against you!” Su Min was clearly frustrated with Zhuang Qin’s lack of urgency. “Two years ago, you were still his stand-in, but then you took over the lead role and became a huge hit. Now he’s taking your roles, serving you a taste of your own medicine. How are you not the least bit anxious?”
Zhuang Qin calmly corrected her, “It’s not like he stole my role. I didn’t want it.”
“You!” Su Min was fuming. “Your brain just doesn’t work at critical moments! Tell me, what exactly is wrong with ‘Ding Dong Feng’?”
“We’ve already talked about this,” he said evenly.
Zhuang Qin had previously mentioned that he’d consulted a master who predicted that working on “Ding Dong Feng” would lead to disaster and bloodshed. So, he refused to take the role.
Su Min didn’t believe in that kind of superstitious nonsense.
“You got the part after auditioning, which is great! I was happy for you! Now, you’re turning it down and handing the opportunity to someone else, of course, I’m not happy! You’ve completely offended Director Qu!”
Zhuang Qin hadn’t slept well and was feeling stifled and uncomfortable. He didn’t like arguing with people.
He knew Su Min had his best interests at heart, but right now, he no longer enjoyed being controlled by others.
Even though he was just a small star, when the company supported him, he had roles to play and could become famous. But if they stopped supporting him, or even blacklisted him, he would never be able to do what he loved again.
And then, as expected, the company did freeze him out after that incident.
When he was popular, everyone was all smiles, fawning over him. But when he fell from grace, those same people turned cold, mocking him. The stark contrast in their attitudes, as if they were completely different people, was all too clear to him now.
He slowly became disillusioned. But Su Min didn’t abandon him. She even comforted him, saying, “I can’t make decisions for the company, Xiao Qin. You should take a break for a while, and later on, I’ll see if I can help you make a comeback.”
She had promised him, and she did try. She brought him to social events, telling him that there was an investor who liked him and could fund his next project.
Su Min never mentioned what kind of price he would have to pay.
Zhuang Qin refused, and Su Min, frustrated, scolded him, “You’re in such a terrible situation now! What right do you have to be so picky?”
Zhuang Qin didn’t blame Su Min. After all, she was just an ordinary agent and didn’t have that much influence.
Many times, Zhuang Qin wished he had a better background. If he were more like Li Mu, who could act in films whenever he wanted and take a year or two off if he didn’t feel like it, his life would be so different. Li Mu had an eye for good roles, and each of his films was a box office and critical success.
That was the kind of life Zhuang Qin could only envy.
Though the bet agreement was unfair, at least it was a chance. Now, he finally had the freedom to choose his own roles.
Zhuang Qin didn’t argue with Su Min. After she spoke for a while and saw that he wasn’t responding, she got even more annoyed.
Sighing, she said, “I’ll do my best to get you resources. But if you keep making decisions on your own, don’t blame me if I stop helping you!”
Zhuang Qin smiled and pulled a small box out of his bag. “I bought you a gift. Happy New Year, Min-jie.”
“You’re such a sweet talker!” Su Min’s main hobby was collecting luxury bags, cosmetics, and all kinds of pens—fountain pens, feather pens, dip pens.
What Zhuang Qin gifted her was a limited-edition fountain pen, paired with a dark green ink set. The packaging and the pen’s texture exuded a quiet, luxurious feel.
Su Min accepted the gift, half-angry, half-amused, and stopped scolding him. “We’re heading to Fashion Monster to shoot the cover, but it looks like we’ll be stuck in traffic and late again!”
She called the magazine to explain the situation and then pulled out face wipes, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a face mask from her bag. She boiled some water in the car to let him wash his face, gargle with mineral water, and finally put on a face mask.
“You’re young, and your skin is good, but you can’t mess around. You need to take care of it. In films, there’s no filter. Even a tiny blemish on your face will be visible…”
Xiao Lian couldn’t help but chime in, “Brother Zhuang never gets pimples or blemishes.”
“I know he doesn’t,” Su Min shot back, glaring at Xiao Lian, “but he still needs to be cautious.”
With his eyes closed, face mask on, Xiao Lian began reading the shooting task to him. It was a double cover shoot, and his partner was Song Ke, a senior from the same academy, a few years older than him. They had previously worked together on a drama, where Zhuang Qin played an ambiguous antihero, and Song Ke was the commander of the imperial guards. The internet had a lot of fans shipping their characters as a couple.
As Xiao Lian read on, she paused. “Eh? This is for next month’s Valentine’s Day special. Why would they choose two male celebrities for a Valentine’s Day cover?”
Su Min said, “These days, all magazines are struggling to sell. Nobody buys magazines anymore. If they don’t add a little fanservice, who would buy them?”
“Oh…”
Just as Zhuang Qin was drifting off to sleep, his phone rang. It was connected to a portable charger in his bag, and the call came from an American number.
He quickly answered.
Zhuang Qin’s English was weak, having never attended school due to his early opera training. If it weren’t for a brief period living abroad in his past life, he probably wouldn’t understand a word.
He had to ask twice to confirm the purpose of the call.
It was from XX Airlines in the U.S.
“Sir, during your flight on XXXX, you left an item in your seat. The gentleman sitting next to you found it and handed it over to us. We’re contacting you now.”
“Huh?” Zhuang Qin was very surprised. “Was it a book? Like a bunch of documents?”
“Yes, it’s a book. If you need, we can offer complimentary shipping.”
Zhuang Qin thought, if he weren’t a first-class passenger, he probably wouldn’t be getting this service.
“It’s fine, no need to ship it. Please just dispose of it,” he replied. Since he had already returned home, mailing it from so far away would take at least a month. It would be quicker for him to get a new script from Guo Baozhen when he signed the contract.
–
Meanwhile, in Chicago.
“Henry, are you back from skiing?”
“Yeah.” Li Mu, wearing Bluetooth earphones, was running on a treadmill, sweat pouring down his long legs. He had been running for over an hour, and his speed had now decreased to 4.6. His short black hair was soaked with sweat, and his gray T-shirt was drenched, clinging to his well-toned body. The view outside his window was an unrivaled view of Lake Michigan.
Qiu Ming lazily spoke into the phone. “Do you have any free time soon? I had a script custom-written for you by a screenwriter. The lead role is all yours! What do you think? Want to give it a shot?”
“No.”
The Qiu family and the Li family had been close for generations. Li Mu and Qiu Ming had known each other since childhood, though their personalities were polar opposites.
“You rejected it that quickly?” Qiu Ming was used to how Li Mu was. He continued on undeterred, “I’m telling you, I hired the best screenwriter for this script. You’re going to love it. The character is exactly like you…”
“No.”
“Aren’t you really into drama?” Qiu Ming didn’t stop, explaining the plot for a full ten minutes until his mouth was dry. “Hey, Henry, are you still there?”
Li Mu didn’t respond. Qiu Ming could only hear his labored breathing. Suddenly, he realized, “Oh… am I interrupting something?”
“Get to the point,” Li Mu said, turning off the treadmill. Grabbing a towel, he wiped the sweat from his neck, then walked barefoot to get some water.
“Oh, the point… Right, well, I need investors for my film.”
“When did you start making movies?” Li Mu asked, lifting his head to drink water. His shirt was now completely soaked.
“Oh, it’s just for fun. I got fired by my manager, and my dad was furious. He’s forcing me to do something productive, so I’m starting a media company. I’m going to create my own stars and produce films. I’ll invest 100 million yuan, and you can chip in whatever you want. I guarantee you’ll make money!”
“Send me the proposal.”
“I knew you’d ask for it. I’ll send it right now!”
The two had been friends for years. Qiu Ming was two years younger than Li Mu. A couple of years ago, Qiu Ming had attended the New York Film Academy to impress a girl. For his graduation project, he had cast Li Mu as the sole lead actor—a sci-fi short film that even won an award.
Of course, Qiu Ming didn’t direct the film himself. He acted as the producer, purchasing the rights to a major sci-fi work, hiring the best screenwriters to adapt it, and bringing in his favorite director to shoot it. In the end, when it came to casting the lead, he thought of his childhood friend.
Though both were second-generation rich kids, Li Mu was different. With an IQ of 163, while most were still in middle school, he had skipped grades and been accepted into MIT. While Qiu Ming was messing around with a band, Li Mu was off mining diamonds in Africa and investing everywhere, seemingly ignoring his vast family empire.
Qiu Ming had noticed that Li Mu had been more laid-back recently. In January, he flew to Italy to watch an opera. In February, he was in Saint Petersburg listening to Kissin. In March, he was back in his luxurious Chicago apartment, dealing with work… Li Mu was the classic “other people’s child” that Qiu Ming’s father always admired.
Qiu Ming also knew about Li Mu’s lesser-known passion: his love for theater, something he’d been fascinated with since he was young.
“Let me know what you think after reading it,” Qiu Ming said, sending over the revised proposal. He knew Li Mu was picky and detail-oriented, someone who couldn’t tolerate the smallest flaw.
“Okay.” In just two seconds, Li Mu downloaded the file. He didn’t open it right away, though, planning to head to the shower when the doorbell rang.
Li Mu accessed the smart door lock and saw it was the private concierge from the Palmolive Building.
“Sir, there’s a package for you.”
“A package?”
“Yes, where would you like me to put it?”
“Just come in and leave it on the table, thank you.” Li Mu ended the call and went to take his shower.
When he came out, he was only wearing a towel around his waist. Water droplets rolled down his well-defined abs as Li Mu sat on the sofa and began skimming through Qiu Ming’s proposal. After a few minutes, he noticed a package on the table.
Who would send him a package?
He picked it up and saw it was sent from the airport.
Li Mu immediately remembered that when he had submitted the lost item, he had been required to leave his phone number, name, and address.
What he didn’t expect was that this lost item would somehow find its way back to him.
Was there some sort of mix-up?
He tossed aside the courier box and picked up what looked like some sort of bathroom reading material titled Cang Xin (Hidden Heart). He casually flipped it open and saw the first line.
Scene 90 / Bedroom / Interior / Noon
[Jiang Zhuo tore off Anke’s clothes and pressed him down onto the bed.]
[Sunlight hit the scars on Jiang Zhuo’s back as he forcefully kissed Anke, knocking over the lamp, which shattered on the ground.]
[Jiang Zhuo…]
Li Mu: “?”
He tossed the script aside in disgust—it really was bathroom reading material, utterly repulsive.
