Shang Lu continued to press, but Tan Le, in a fit of pique, refused to say more. “Oh, you’ll understand after a while. It’s not convenient for me to talk about it now.”
Back on set, Shang Lu didn’t bother to pursue the matter further. Right now, filming was more important to her.
After a day of shooting, Shang Lu was quite satisfied.
In her plan, “Meteor Romance” could be completed in 40 days, with each episode not exceeding 30 minutes—a highly efficient schedule.
While she was filled with ambition, Yan Ranran returned home with a heavy heart.
She had thought that after driving Shang Lu away, the girl would end up homeless and destitute.
But she never expected that a biological daughter would still be a biological daughter—not only had her father given Shang Lu living expenses, but she had also just overheard him wanting to persuade Shang Lu to come back.
Fortunately, her eldest brother Yan Yunjiang was also there. He was in a bad mood and didn’t approve of the idea, so Yan Defang didn’t insist.
Yet Yan Ranran sensed a hint of danger, especially after seeing Shang Lu directing her own project with Tan Le’s help and that man’s support. She couldn’t understand it.
Originally, her plan was to study acting at film school, make cameo appearances in big-name directors’ movies and TV shows to build a fanbase, and then have someone tailor a series for her.
But now, it seemed this path to fame was too long. She couldn’t wait.
At that moment, she couldn’t help but pick up her phone and dial Xin Zhuo’s number. “Hello, A-Zhuo, it’s me. I’ve been resting at home for so long, and I’m really bored. Can I come see you tomorrow?”
Xin Zhuo was still at the office reviewing documents when he received the call. He frowned. “Your leg hasn’t fully recovered yet. You need to rest properly. If you’re bored, once I finish this busy period, I’ll take you abroad for a trip.”
Hearing this, Yan Ranran felt annoyed, but her tone grew even gentler. “Are you very busy lately? Then I won’t disturb you. By the way, I ran into your cousin today. For some reason, he suddenly went to a film set. Do you know about it?”
She knew Xin Zhuo was deeply wary of this cousin. Having returned to the country only two years ago, Xin Mingqing had arranged for him to join Huasheng and now entrusted him with independent projects, showing great trust in him.
Xin Zhuo, having graduated just last year, had only been in the group for a year, starting a step behind his cousin. Therefore, he had to work twice as hard to gain his grandfather’s recognition.
Yan Ranran’s news didn’t surprise Xin Zhuo. “He was the first to propose the video platform plan. Grandfather put him in full charge. I heard he’s been mingling with people in the entertainment industry lately, so visiting a set isn’t surprising.”
However, Xin Zhuo had little fondness for the entertainment industry, and for good reason: his father Xin Hongkai’s mistresses were both celebrities. Although he hadn’t divorced Xin Zhuo’s mother, their marriage existed in name only.
Naturally, Xin Zhuo held no favorable impression of the stars who had destroyed his family.
Thus, he had never quite approved of Yan Ranran’s desire to enter the entertainment industry and act, though he couldn’t bring himself to openly oppose it.
In the novel, of course, Yan Ranran relied on her own efforts to become a film queen, changing Xin Zhuo’s perspective.
But the plot hadn’t reached that point yet, so Xin Zhuo’s views remained unchanged.
Seeing that Xin Zhuo didn’t mind, Yan Ranran didn’t say more and instead brought up another matter. “I heard Director Jin Xingping is casting for his new drama, and Huasheng has invested in it. Has the lead role been decided yet?”
Xin Zhuo hadn’t paid attention, but since his beloved asked, he naturally took it to heart. “Why? Do you want to play the lead?”
He remembered Yan Ranran had told him before that she wanted to start with supporting roles to gain experience and win over the audience with her acting skills. He thought that with Yan Ranran’s status, there was no need to start with supporting roles—she could directly play the lead.
Now, why had she changed her mind?
Yan Ranran smiled slightly, pretending to be a little shy, her tone carrying a hint of annoyance. “I just want to give it a try. I thought carefully about what you said before and realized you were right.”
Hearing that his beloved took his casual remark so seriously, Xin Zhuo felt a warmth in his heart. “Since you want to act, the role is definitely yours. I’ll have my secretary contact them for you.”
“Ah Zhuo, thank you!” Yan Ranran felt a surge of excitement. She knew Xin Zhuo would help her.
In truth, ever since Yan Ranran found out she wasn’t the biological daughter of the Yan family, she had been subtly looking for a way out.
A way to secure her livelihood even if she had to leave the Yan family one day.
And Xin Zhuo was her best choice.
As the designated heir of the Xin family—though the word “designated” was now questionable—he was Xin Mingqing’s favorite grandson and had the highest chance of winning.
His competitor, Xin Yan, had lost both parents, while Xin Zhuo not only had his father’s support but also a mother whose family, though not as wealthy as the Xin family, held significant influence.
No matter how you looked at it, Xin Zhuo was destined to be the heir of Huasheng Group.
As long as she held onto him, Yan Ranran feared no one!
Even if Shang Lu really managed to latch onto Xin Yan, she wasn’t afraid at all.
But what she didn’t know was that the novel’s plot had begun to twist completely from this point onward. If someone started down the wrong path, they would only continue to make mistakes.
Especially in the entertainment industry, the audience’s first impression of an actor was particularly important. Once that first impression was lost, it would be extremely difficult to turn public opinion around!—
How fast is 40 days?
Shang Lu hardly felt it before “Meteor Romance” finished filming.
On the day of the wrap-up, Luo Zhao, the male lead, cried the hardest.
Shang Lu was a bit speechless, especially when she saw him coming over to hug her with tears and snot streaming down his face. She quickly dodged to the side. “Maybe I don’t have a cleanliness obsession, but you’re still pretty scary like this.”
Everyone burst into laughter, including Ji Xue, who usually didn’t dare joke with her, now running over with a smile.
“Director Shang, thank you so much, I…” As she spoke, tears streamed down her face.
Shang Lu was indeed strict on set and had scolded people—almost every actor had been reprimanded by her.
After all, her requirements were different from others. She was particularly meticulous about visuals and demanded high standards.
Shang Lu was the least equipped to handle such tearful scenes.
She could only console everyone, “Alright, alright, it’s a wrap! You should be happy—you won’t have to listen to me scolding you anymore. Cheer up!”
Shang Lu clapped her hands and directed the photographer, “Hey, Xiao Zhou, get ready. Let’s take a group photo for the wrap-up!”
Everyone quickly found their positions. Shang Lu stood in the center, and with red-rimmed eyes and bright smiles, they captured the wrap-up photo!
On April 1st, the account 【Shake】Shang Lu suddenly updated with a new video.
Originally, the series “Really Didn’t Expect That” had opened a new account, and all subsequent short films were posted there, including the few videos Shang Lu had previously shared.
The number of videos on Shang Lu’s account had dropped to zero.
But at 10 a.m., her loyal fans discovered that she had actually posted a new video.
The first thing they saw upon opening it was two roses and a girl’s voice.
“If I hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t have met them.”