While getting her makeup done, He Yan continued diligently studying the script.
Since she’d been challenged, there was no way she was backing down. Fortunately, she’d always had an exceptional memory—back in school, memorizing texts had been her superpower. So, these few lines were child’s play for her.
When her agent, Lin Jingyi, entered the makeup room and saw He Yan working so hard, she was startled.
What had gotten into He Yan today? Before, she’d constantly complained about playing a supporting role, been uncooperative, and shown no willingness to improve her acting. But the company just couldn’t bear to give up on such a one-in-a-million face, so they’d taken an unconventional approach—opting for the controversial, hype-driven route.
What was different today?
Puzzled, Lin Jingyi approached He Yan and leaned in for a look. “Yan Yan, are you reading the script?”
He Yan looked up at the sound of her voice, her limpid eyes meeting Lin Jingyi’s. “Yes, Sister Jingyi. I need to work hard at my acting.”
Her expression was earnest, almost demure.
Lin Jingyi grew even more confused. But not wanting to dampen He Yan’s confidence, she simply nodded, said “That’s good,” and sat down to one side.
In her mind, though, she was recalling He Yan’s notoriously painful performances.
Her acting in this production had been atrocious. If the company hadn’t invested in the drama, the director would have kicked He Yan off the set long ago.
But the company stubbornly refused to give up on He Yan’s remarkable appearance, giving her chance after chance.
Lately, however, even the higher-ups were starting to lose patience.
Giving someone opportunities was one thing. But if they repeatedly fail to appreciate them, there’s nothing more the company can do.
Lin Jingyi glanced at He Yan with a trace of regret. The company might try pushing her onto a few variety shows. If that didn’t work, they’d likely stop investing real resources and just milk her for scandals and shallow “pretty face” attention., —a quick way to burn through whatever popularity she had.
What a waste of such looks.
Soon, her makeup was ready. He Yan followed Lin Jingyi to the set.
The director, who had been all smiles a moment ago, turned grim the instant he saw her.
He Yan pretended not to notice and approached politely. “Director Zhang, sorry about that, something came up.”
The director froze. He Yan, being this courteous? Now he couldn’t even muster the anger to snap at her.
Suppressing his irritation, he muttered gruffly, “Get ready and we’ll start.”
Any scene involving He Yan was bound to drag on until evening with endless NGs.
But the truth was, He Yan wasn’t new to acting. In her previous life during university, she’d performed in many stage plays.
Her drama instructor at the arts college had even recognized her raw talent and tried to recruit her into a professional theater company. She had politely declined back then.
And yet, after all these twists and turns, here she was again.
He Yan quickly got into character. She watched as Lin Jingxi, brimming with arrogance, shrugged off her coat and stepped into frame.
The look in Lin Jingxi’s eyes as she glanced at He Yan was full of disdain.
The scene was straightforward: Qiu Chuchu, the fake heiress, picks a fight with Qi Ruanruan. Just as she raises her hand to slap her, she catches sight of the male lead approaching from around the corner. So, she pretends to be pushed into the pool by the female lead, framing her.
He Yan slipped effortlessly into character. Her eyes blazing with malice, she glared directly at Lin Jingxi. “Qi Ruanruan! How dare you compete with me for Brother Qin Chi?!”
Her voice dripped venom. She paused, waiting for Lin Jingxi’s response.
But Lin Jingxi stood frozen, her mouth slightly agape, staring at He Yan in disbelief.
“Cut—”
The director called out. “Jingxi, what’s wrong? Having trouble getting into character?”
Lin Jingxi snapped back to reality, her face flushing. She had actually been intimidated by He Yan’s glare just now.
She had assumed He Yan would perform poorly. She hadn’t even bothered to prepare herself for the scene, content to watch the other woman fail. But instead, He Yan had genuinely embodied the supporting role’s cruelty.
What was going on? How did her acting suddenly improve? No, it couldn’t be. It had to be a fluke.
“Director, I’m ready. Let’s try again.” Lin Jingxi forced an apologetic smile.
Take two. He Yan fixed her with that same vicious glare. Her tone, her expression—every detail perfectly matched the character.
Lin Jingxi felt completely overpowered. Her mind went blank and forgot her lines.
After five or six consecutive NGs, the director grew visibly annoyed.
“Jingxi, something’s off with your performance today. You’re supposed to be the kindhearted female lead. You can’t let one line from Qiu Chuchu rattle you so much that you can’t even string a sentence together!” He waved his hand impatiently. “Take a break. Get yourself together.”
He then rewatched the footage from earlier. When he lifted his head, his gaze lingered on He Yan. Strange. Why was she performing so well today? Usually, it was her racking up the NGs.
He Yan didn’t seem bothered at all. She sat down happily on the sidelines, waiting patiently for Lin Jingxi to pull herself together.
“Sister Yan Yan, here’s some hot water for you.” A young girl approached hesitantly, holding out a cup.
“Thank you.” He Yan smiled at her and took the cup.
The girl caught sight of He Yan’s smile, her eyes curved like crescent moons, and today’s makeup added a hint of allure at the corners. Her ears instantly turned red.
Sister Yan Yan seemed really easy to talk to today. And… she looked so beautiful when she smiled.
After the short break, Lin Jingxi, her face ashen, stepped back into the frame and fixed her gaze on He Yan.
She couldn’t understand it. How could He Yan have changed so completely in just one day?
That feeling of being completely overshadowed, she’d never experienced it before.
Lin Jingxi swallowed hard, clenching her fists with quiet resolve. She had to nail this take. At the very least, she wanted to see He Yan thrash around in the water a few times. There was no way she could stay composed jumping into a cold pool in this weather, right?
Steeling herself, she met He Yan’s gaze. After several NGs, she finally managed to get through her part of the scene.
He Yan raised her hand, a flash of cruelty in her eyes, ready to strike. Then her gaze flickered toward the corner where the male lead was about to appear. Her expression shifted instantly, and she tumbled into the pool.
Her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, fixed pitifully on Lin Jingxi. Her voice trembled. “Sister… why did you push me?”
Water dripped from her soaked hair. Beneath her drenched clothes, her delicate frame shivered. Yet her gaze still subtly drifted toward the male lead in the distance.
It was perfect.
But Lin Jingxi stood frozen, completely forgetting to maintain Qi Ruanruan’s required expression.
She refused to believe it. How could He Yan possibly act this well?
“Excellent! He Yan, that was outstanding today!” The director finally praised her. His assistant immediately handed He Yan a towel and helped her out of the water.
“Thank you, Director!” He Yan smiled. Her frail, dripping figure and tearful eyes stirred sympathy in everyone present, men and women alike.
No wonder the male lead always misunderstood the female lead. Seeing a beauty like this, who would ever suspect her of malicious intent?
Then their gazes turned to Lin Jingxi, who had been off her game all day. She was starting to look like the real villain here.
“Jingxi, we’ll need to reshoot your part after Qiu Chuchu falls into the water. You can’t just stand there blankly, you need expression! Do you understand expression?” The director’s tone was sharp with disappointment.
Usually, it was He Yan’s acting that was abysmal. Today, she delivered a stellar performance. And now Lin Jingxi was the one fumbling. Filming was never easy.
“Director, if He Yan isn’t in the scene with me, it’s hard for me to get into character,” Lin Jingxi said, unwilling to let He Yan off. She wanted to drag her back into the water.
But the moment the words left her mouth, the atmosphere shifted. The looks around her changed.
He Yan had acted brilliantly. And now, because of Lin Jingxi’s shortcomings, she was expected to jump back into the water? Just look at her—pitiful, fragile. How could anyone bear it?
It was clearly intentional.
“If acting with He Yan helped you get into character, why did you keep NGing earlier?” The director was blunt and had no patience for pretense.
Lin Jingxi’s face cycled through shades of pale and red. She clenched her jaw and shot He Yan a venomous glare.
He Yan changed clothes quickly, grabbed a small stool, and sat on the sidelines to watch but her mind was elsewhere. She wondered if she should let Jiang Mingcheng know she’d be staying away from home while filming.
They were only pretending to be married, but it still seemed rude to vanish right after moving in. What if he got angry and decided not to give her the hundred million?
With that thought, He Yan pulled out her phone, found Jiang Mingcheng in her contacts, and sent him a message:
[I’m filming recently, so I won’t be staying at home~]
Afraid her tone might come off a little dry, she added a cute emoji.
She tucked her phone into her pocket and cheerfully met Lin Jingxi’s fuming glare with a sweet, innocent smile.
Heh heh. Annoyed? Are you annoyed?
Meanwhile, on the other side, Jiang Mingcheng had just finished a meeting and sat down to rest when his phone buzzed with a message. His slender fingers picked it up and opened He Yan’s text.
His usually indifferent gaze flickered.
Aside from work-related messages, he never received texts about personal matters. And certainly not one with a smiling, rosy-cheeked emoji tacked on.
It was like a pebble dropped into an ordinarily still pond—ripples spreading gently across the surface.
His fingers moved, and he sent a reply:
[Okay.]
After sending it, he took another look at the cute emoji, as if her fair, clear face had surfaced in his mind.
Then he put down his phone and went back to work.
He Yan had been filming for half a month before she finally got two days off.
She was just about to rest for a bit before heading back to Jiang Mingcheng’s Jingjiang Villa when Sister Jingyi knocked on her door.
“Yan Yan, there’s an awards ceremony tomorrow. I’ve found out that Pei Yanchuan will be there, so the company has decided to send you as well. Just do what you’ve done before—stay close to him, get a few words in. I’ll have a photographer ready.” Sister Jingyi handed He Yan a copy of the event schedule.
“Sister Jingyi…” He Yan frowned. She didn’t want to stir up scandals with Pei Yanchuan. If the rumors got too intense and started sounding real, Jiang Mingcheng would definitely withhold her money.
The contract clearly stated that during the term of their agreement, she must uphold the image of the Jiang family’s wife and not bring any disgrace upon them.
No, she needed to come up with something.
“Sister Jingyi, don’t you think this whole scandal-chasing route has no future?”
“Huh?” Lin Jingyi looked at her suspiciously. Wasn’t she the one who loved being linked to Pei Yanchuan? Anywhere he went, she practically begged the company to send her along. What was going on now?
“Think about it—as an agent, don’t you want to become a top-tier agent?”
Lin Jingyi slowly nodded, still looking confused.
“And the artists under those top agents, aren’t they all serious, talented actors?”
Lin Jingyi nodded again.
“So, here’s what I think: as an actress, I want to make it in this industry on talent. And once I succeed, I’ll help you become a top-tier agent!” He Yan patted Lin Jingyi’s shoulder, her eyes blazing with determination.
Lin Jingyi’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You’ve finally come around? I thought you used to hate acting?”
“That was when I was young and foolish. Scandals might get you famous for a moment, but they won’t last a lifetime. But I can’t do it alone I need your help, Sister Jingyi.” He Yan looked at her earnestly, eyes shimmering.
Lin Jingyi had always wanted to groom He Yan into a serious actress. After all, in this industry, looks alone wouldn’t sustain a career for long. But back then, He Yan simply wouldn’t cooperate, she only had eyes for Pei Yanchuan. So, Lin Jingyi had been forced to pivot strategies.
Still, He Yan’s words had weight. Lin Jingyi wasn’t about to change her entire approach based on one conversation, but she filed it away. Maybe it was time to fight for another script for her. Her acting really had improved a lot lately.
“That said, you still need to attend the ceremony tomorrow. The invitation’s already been sent. At the very least, showing your face will keep the audience from forgetting you.”
“Got it!” He Yan agreed readily. She knew shifting her public image wouldn’t happen overnight. But she was willing to work toward it.
**