Good grief, you’ve really outdone yourselves!
How is it that the male lead, the female lead, and the original owner of this body all share the exact same dog-like disposition?
Is there not a single decent person in this world besides her?
Shen Manyu was speechless. All she could do was ponder, and then ponder some more.
Mo Cheng grew angrier as he spoke. Thinking that Shen Manyu was playing him for a fool again, his “rage bar” surged to the maximum. Shen Manyu had no choice but to quickly divert the topic to save the situation. “In short, that’s how things stand. Since there’s no other way, we just have to leave it like this for now.”
While Mo Cheng’s anger had yet to subside, Shen Manyu continued, “How many people have my phone number?”
Mo Cheng frowned deeply, confused. “Why are you asking that? Not many people know your private number—only a few of your close acquaintances.”
“I warned you not to give out your private number to just anyone, and you shouldn’t have given it out privately either.” He paused, his face darkening as he added, “That is, if you actually listened to me.”
He didn’t realize he was being led away from the previous topic. Shen Manyu lowered her eyes, her gaze falling on her phone with a meaningful expression. “I see.”
“My phone had some issues a couple of days ago and all my contacts are gone. I’ll need you to write down the names and numbers of those people for me again.”
The curve of her lips held a strange smile, and her downcast eyes were dark and unreadable. Mo Cheng couldn’t quite describe the look, but he could acutely sense an extreme danger.
Not many people? That’s perfect.
The little mouse hiding its head and showing its tail would be caught very soon.
Shen Manyu’s jade-white fingertips tapped lightly on the phone, as if reaching through the barriers of space and dimension to effortlessly crush that filthy little mouse to death.
Then, she pulled out a tissue and gently wiped her clean fingers. A faint smile reappeared on her face as she said nonchalantly, “My quilt is dirty and I don’t have a spare. I’ll have to trouble you to ask the front desk for another one.”
Mo Cheng agreed. It was already the middle of the night; as a grown man, it wasn’t appropriate for him to stay here too long.
Once he understood the situation and confirmed that no major disasters had occurred, his anxious mood calmed down slightly. He went to the front desk, got a clean thin quilt for Shen Manyu, and prepared to leave.
Before departing, he offered another earnest warning: “My little princess, please take it easy and stop being so headstrong. With your level of acting, I’m genuinely afraid you won’t last two days before being kicked out of the crew. If that happens, you’ll lose both face and dignity and become the laughingstock of the entire industry.”
“If all else fails, after you get kicked out, I’ll continue to arrange acting classes for you. This time, don’t be like before—don’t ditch the teacher every single time just to go on dates with men.”
“After all, those seniors have a certain status; they are held in high regard wherever they go. Yet, they receive nothing but cold treatment from you. You don’t value them at all—how can they stand that kind of disrespect?”
Shen Manyu pressed her aching brow like Sun Wukong suffering from Tang Sanzang’s chanting. She said helplessly, “Can’t you have a little faith in me? Filming hasn’t even started, and you’ve already planned what to do after I’m kicked out. Talk about throwing cold water on someone.”
Faith? Mo Cheng thought about it. Regarding Shen Manyu, he truly didn’t have a shred of it.
He bit back the sarcastic remarks he wanted to make. In a moment like this, since Shen Manyu was feeling confident, he—as her manager—should be offering encouragement.
But then he thought back to the countless times her antics had pushed him to the brink of a breakdown. Even a man with a “broad chest” couldn’t withstand hit after hit like that!
His heart ached with frustration. He ignored Shen Manyu’s words and continued his own train of thought:
“Don’t log into Weibo or anything like that. I still have your account. The comments are full of extreme hate, and the company can’t control it. Even the company’s official account is being cursed into oblivion. The paid shills we hired to say a few good things for you were immediately drowned out by the ‘anti-fans’.”
“Just focus on studying the script and try your best to act well. When the time comes, the company will buy some trending searches to try and salvage your reputation. This drama is quite important for you. If all else fails, humble yourself before Hua Yanqiu. It would be best if she could help guide you.”
As he said this, even he felt his suggestion was too far-fetched. He couldn’t help but sigh again, feeling both exhausted and helpless.
Let Hua Yanqiu guide her? An A-list superstar of Hua Yanqiu’s status couldn’t be swayed even if the company had money and resources. At her level, she had long escaped the control of capital. Her actions were dictated by her own will, and she was hardly influenced by the outside world.
The gap between her status and Shen Manyu’s in the industry was like heaven and earth. Hua Yanqiu was already bordering on “divine” status, only one step away from becoming a “Triple Gold” Best Actress, while Shen Manyu was still a green, fledgling amateur.
He didn’t know where she got her confidence—or was she just too naive? Did she think that having a scumbag like Jing Yanqing as her backup would allow her to reach the sky in one step and go head-to-head with Hua Yanqiu?
With a “hot potato” like Shen Manyu dropped into his hands, Mo Cheng wondered what kind of sins he had committed in a past life.
Since taking over Shen Manyu, he, the manager, had essentially transformed into a dedicated old nanny. Not only had he become incredibly long-winded, but his hair was falling out in handfuls.
“Do you still refuse to have an assistant?” He tugged at his hair, confirming it was still safely attached to his head before feeling relieved. “You’ll be busy filming on set; having an assistant to handle the trivial tasks and take care of your daily needs would be much more convenient.”
So, the decision to not have an assistant was made by the original owner herself?
Shen Manyu had assumed the original owner was in a dire situation at the company and that they had intentionally arranged it this way to make things difficult for her.
She thought for a moment. Since the original owner was unwilling to have an assistant following her—though the reason remained unknown—and since there hadn’t been one before, it would be best to stick to the previous pattern while she was still figuring out the situation. “No need,” she replied.
Mo Cheng looked like he wanted to say something more to persuade her, but in the end, he remained silent. He nodded and said, “Then take a good look at the script. I’m heading back.”
After seeing him off, Shen Manyu sat down and began flipping through the script.
After reading just a few pages, her expression shifted from initial interest to sudden shock. She flipped forward rapidly until she reached the very end, her teeth practically gritting in anger.
The dim reflection of the phone screen by her hand showed Shen Manyu’s face; the image of a delicate beauty was now entirely covered by rage. Her beautiful eyes flashed with fire as she stared at her own reflection in the screen, suppressing her anger as she muttered, “How on earth did you accept a script like this?”
“Your original intention in snatching this role was to make things difficult for Hua Yanqiu, but look at the script yourself—who is actually bullying whom?”
The version of herself in the reflection matched her every move and expression perfectly; even the blazing fury in her eyes was identical. The original owner was “offline” yet again.
Shen Manyu closed her eyes, forcing down the anger in her heart. She slammed the script shut and talked to herself: “Maybe… I should just tell my manager I’m not doing it.”
If she actually did that, he would probably explode on the spot like a balloon stretched to its limit.
Feeling unsettled, Shen Manyu’s pale fingertips tapped rhythmically but erratically against the script. A sense of inexplicable irritability followed her like a shadow, lingering in her heart.
She thought for a long time but still couldn’t make up her mind.
After all, the gap in status between the original owner and Hua Yanqiu was far too wide. If she missed this opportunity, it would be harder than climbing to heaven for their paths to cross again in the future.
This identity the original owner left her was truly a magnet for trouble at every turn.
As expected, there is no such thing as a free lunch—especially not something as wonderful as rebirth.
Gradually, Shen Manyu made up her mind and let out a long breath. Since she was here, she had to make the best of it; she couldn’t find a better opportunity than this for now, so she couldn’t let it slip away easily.
Shen Manyu put away the script and lay back on the bed.
The lights in the room were off, and her face was submerged in the shadows, dark and unreadable. The faint exhaustion between her brows had not faded. She raised her hand to gently press her temple as her thoughts gradually drifted into chaos.
In that state between dreaming and waking, her soul drifted back to the scenes before she had crossed over into this world.