The next day, Su Ni looked at Yu Yang.
“Why do I feel like…”
Yu Yang quickly covered her mouth.
“Don’t speak—hold it in!”
Su Ni’s natural curiosity got the better of her, but she quickly set aside her little worries.
“Why are you having insomnia? Be honest with me—what happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
Su Ni snorted.
“Fine, don’t tell me then!”
Lin Shu deliberately chose today—a very auspicious day—for the opening ceremony. Sometimes people can’t help but become a little superstitious. After all, no one wants to go against fortune.
After the opening ceremony, Yu Yang was whisked away for makeup and styling.
Song Li also managed to come by briefly, staring at Yu Yang’s reflection in the mirror.
“Did you stay up all night gaming?”
Su Ni raised her hand obediently.
“I vouch—she didn’t go anywhere.”
“Then she must have been daydreaming!”
Yu Yang rolled her eyes, silently deciding she didn’t want to talk to these two anymore.
Yu Yang and Su Ni were not filming the same scenes that day, so after makeup, they each went their separate ways.
Yu Yang watched Song Li leave and also glanced at Su Ni’s departing figure.
“What happened?”
“Her marriage to Xie Huaili probably can’t be kept under wraps anymore!”
Yu Yang was curious and wanted to ask more, but Song Li was summoned away by a phone call.
Yu Yang’s first scene that day was actually the last scene in the script.
When she used to watch dramas, she always assumed filming started from episode one onward. Only now, experiencing it herself, did she realize how naïve her past self had been.
The reason Lin Shu dared to schedule Yu Yang’s final-scene shooting first was because he trusted her completely.
As expected, Yu Yang made him proud.
Both of them watched the playback and were very satisfied, though Yu Yang still wanted to keep one take in reserve.
Watching the second playback, Lin Shu practically wanted to pick Yu Yang up and spin her around in excitement.
Yu Yang had been focused on the screen, but ever since Lin Shu’s hand rested on her shoulder, she felt like pins and needles were pricking her all over.
She was extremely uncomfortable, sensing someone’s intense gaze—but looking around, she couldn’t find its source.
Unbeknownst to her, the producer of the drama was acting like a sycophant, closely observing the big shot beside him.
“President Pei, this is a major IP just starting filming. Both the director and the actors are valuable. The market feedback is excellent, and the original work has a strong fan base.”
The producer’s eyes kept darting toward the influential figure.
Though he knew winning over this person would be difficult, he had to try.
He even wondered how he had suddenly been handed such a golden opportunity.
Pei Yuheng watched as the obstacle on Yu Yang disappeared, and the surge of murderous intent within him gradually faded.
He didn’t even give the producer a good look.
“Sign it later.”
The producer made a small sound of acknowledgment and obediently followed.
This wasn’t just the investor—it was practically his ancestor!
Yu Yang, while changing costumes, eavesdropped with interest.
“What are you two talking about?”
The makeup artist looked terrified.
“I heard the producer just secured a major investment. The funds have already been transferred today!”
Yu Yang looked incredulous.
“How much?”
“Six figures!”
“Eight figures!”
Pfft…
Yu Yang wiped her mouth messily, still confirming with the makeup artist.
“You’re not joking?”
“Of course not!”
Yu Yang gave a thumbs-up.
“Our producer is amazing!”
The makeup artist, familiar with Yu Yang, continued:
“It’s Jiangcheng, that DY Corporation! Apparently, the company’s CEO hasn’t been seen in public. Even people on the same level don’t know who he is!”
The makeup artist didn’t hide her envy.
“Too bad, in real life there’s no prince falling for a Cinderella—otherwise, I’d leave my glass slipper somewhere too!”
Some beauties only exist in fairy tales.
Yu Yang stared at the DY Corporation’s profile online, scratching her itchy scalp. She was genuinely curious how the producer had secured such a picky investor.
Pei Yuheng was in the car, rubbing his brows, exhausted after traveling overnight from Kyoto.
Gu Xing thoughtfully closed the divider, but when his hand touched the button, it was called off.
Pei Yuheng slowly loosened his tie.
“I’ll be in Jiangdu for a while. Please maintain the house at Ziluogongyuan as usual. I’ll send you the address later—buy that property.”
Gu Xing responded promptly.
“President Pei, what about upcoming company meetings?”
“They’ll be online.”
“Understood!”
Gu Xing watched Pei Yuheng’s eyes gradually close in the rearview mirror and raised the divider again.
A while later, his phone pinged.
A message from Pei Yuheng:
[Mantingjing Building 16, Unit 1, 16th Floor, 1601]
Gu Xing looked at the message, still not understanding why his boss would leave the villa at Ziluogongyuan to live in a large flat instead.
As a humble worker, he couldn’t comprehend it.
But since the boss had ordered it, he could only comply.
Yu Yang had a long night shoot that day. She looked at the steaming bowl of snail rice noodles in Qiao Luoluo’s hand and felt extremely tempted.
“Qiao Luoluo, here I am, trying to control my figure, and you’re indulging in food—don’t you feel even a tiny bit guilty?”
Qiao Luoluo turned around.
“A little, but not much!”
Yu Yang, a seasoned foodie, had lived such a chaotic life ever since joining the crew.
Thinking of this, her mood soured.
But reality was cruel. She didn’t even have time to feel sad and had to rush to shoot.
When off work, she enjoyed rainy days.
When working, rain was a nuisance—especially with her flawless makeup and styling, now threatened by the downpour.
In such situations, unless there was poor execution, Yu Yang almost never repeated a shoot. Her body simply couldn’t handle it anymore.
Lin Shu looked at Yu Yang’s miserable appearance.
“Hurry and change clothes, or your fans will start a frenzy!”
Lin Shu’s tone was genuinely humble.
Yu Yang looked at herself in the mirror.
By now, this was the who-knows-whatth outfit of the day.
Though each look was beautiful, all she wanted now was to finish work and crash.
Only sleep could soothe her mood.
The phone on the table buzzed, lighting up the screen.