A crowded bus pulled up outside a four-story office building.
The doors hissed open, and a stream of people slowly climbed down. The bus had been traveling for nearly three hours over bumpy roads, leaving everyone’s faces etched with exhaustion. Even for this group of handsome men and beautiful women, the dust and grime of the journey made it hard to distinguish their looks.
Except for one person.
Zhao Anya couldn’t help but feel a wave of admiration. Qin You’s face was truly blessed by heaven; the more natural her look, the more striking she became. Despite the three-hour ordeal, the moment she stepped off the bus, she looked as if she were stepping out of a luxury car onto a red carpet, carrying her own invisible spotlight.
Zhao Anya had been somewhat surprised when she received this latest script. After reading the second episode, she had assumed that since Fang Ziyu’s screen time had vanished, her own role as Fang Ziyu’s best friend would disappear as well. To her surprise, the opposite had happened.
In this new batch of pages, she actually had several scenes. Her character would attempt to win over Mohe Company and fail, but that was a failure for the character—Zhao Anya herself was just happy to have work.
However, beneath her joy lurked a shadow of worry—Yang Qiu.
The conditions for the *Sleepless City* production were excellent. Regular actors were provided with room and board, and Director Wang had selected a high-quality hotel. Even a man as wealthy as Director Wang didn’t believe in wasting money, so most of the rooms were standard doubles. Since Zhao Anya was close with Yang Qiu, it was only natural that they shared a room.
Zhao Anya remembered the day the staff came to distribute the scripts. She had opened the door and taken a thick stack of pages with her name on them.
But there was only one copy.
There was only her copy; there was nothing for Yang Qiu.
After she closed the door, Yang Qiu had habitually walked over, reaching out to take the script.
Zhao Anya remained silent for a moment before saying with a slight headache, “Xiao Qiu… they only gave me my script.”
Yang Qiu’s expression instantly soured. She practically snatched the script from Zhao Anya’s hand and began flipping through it violently. In the quiet room, the sharp, rapid rustling of the paper was startling.
When the frantic flipping finally stopped, Yang Qiu’s face was deathly pale. She threw the script onto Zhao Anya’s bed, turned, and walked into the bathroom.
Zhao Anya felt a pang of frustration. She wanted to comfort Yang Qiu immediately, but she preferred her comfort to be grounded in facts. She picked up the script and skimmed through it. Her own role was actually quite minor, occupying only a few small boxes across several pages.
In truth, she hadn’t understood why Yang Qiu hadn’t received a script either. Although the twist in the second episode had knocked Fang Ziyu off her pedestal as the lead, that meaningful ending suggested she still had a story to tell. Zhao Anya’s own theory was that Fang Ziyu would undergo a “blackening” arc and return to challenge Ling Yu head-on.
Furthermore, Director Wang hadn’t officially finished Yang Qiu’s filming, so her guess seemed reasonable.
She had been surprised to see only her copy of the script, assuming Yang Qiu would have at least some scenes.
However, after finishing the new pages, she began to understand. This wasn’t a full episode like before; these scenes were focused entirely on a single location. It was likely that they only had access to the venue for a limited time and needed to film everything there at once.
Once she realized this, she knew how to comfort Yang Qiu. It wasn’t that her role was over; it was just that these scenes were centered on Mohe Company, and Fang Ziyu simply had no connection to the business at this stage.
Zhao Anya speculated that after Fang Ziyu’s “blackening,” she would likely approach things through Mohe’s rival, Kunlun Technology—especially since her boyfriend provided a connection there. From there, she might have a direct confrontation with Ling Yu. Even if she had transitioned from protagonist to villain, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; villains often got plenty of screen time.
But just as she cleared her thoughts and prepared to knock on the bathroom door, the sliding door hissed open. Zhao Anya looked up, meeting Yang Qiu’s gaze.
Yang Qiu froze, seeing Zhao Anya buried in the script. Her expression darkened further. She pursed her lips and coldly dropped a sentence: “I don’t have any scenes lately, so I’m going back to school to rest for a few days.” Then, she walked out.
Zhao Anya was stunned. It took a moment for her to realize that Yang Qiu likely thought she was so absorbed in her own script that she couldn’t be bothered to offer any comfort.
Zhao Anya sighed. She didn’t chase after her. It might be better for Yang Qiu to spend a few days at school—out of sight, out of mind. Away from the film set, she would likely be able to recover her composure on her own.
She took out her phone and sent several messages to Yang Qiu, explaining her thoughts and clarifying why she had been looking at the script. She added that if Yang Qiu wanted to rest, she should take the time to do so properly.
A few days passed in a flash. The production crew used a bus to transport everyone to the new location, but Yang Qiu still hadn’t replied to any of her messages.
Zhao Anya felt a faint sense of unease. On one hand, this was just Yang Qiu’s personality—this wasn’t the first time she had sulked. She had been posting normally on her Moments, playing around and having fun, so she didn’t seem to be in a bad place. On the other hand, Zhao Anya truly didn’t have the time to coddle her. She couldn’t very well abandon her own role and run back to school just to comfort her friend.
As a rational person, Zhao Anya wouldn’t let her emotions rule her like that.
Still, she couldn’t help but check her phone. Yang Qiu still hadn’t replied. With a sigh, she went to get her makeup done.
***
Qin You smoothed her hair and stepped into the office building.
From the outside, the building looked four stories tall, but inside, it was revealed to be only two. The ceilings were exceptionally high, creating a sense of vast, empty space—exactly the effect Director Wang was looking for.
The temporary renovations were complete. Looking up, steel beams and ventilation ducts crisscrossed the air, gleaming with a grey, industrial luster. It looked rugged and raw, almost like a construction site mid-renovation, but that was the specific aesthetic Director Wang demanded.
Further inside, areas hidden from the camera’s view had been converted into temporary makeup and dressing rooms.
Qin You walked over to a rolling rack. The dozen or so outfits hanging there were for Ling Yu’s next two episodes. Compared to her previous dresses, these were relatively “casual.” Most were shirts and trousers, along with some skirts, but they were all pencil skirts rather than the gown-like long dresses she had worn before.
She changed into one of the sets: a black shirt, black trousers, and black high heels. She looked as cold and lethal as an agent about to save or destroy the world, save for the red soles of her heels that reminded the audience she was still a fashionable urban socialite.
While she was in makeup, Wang Hexing finished his styling and emerged. His look perfectly captured the stereotype of a young tech CEO—a loose shirt layered under an equally loose hoodie. The shirt had even been intentionally wrinkled to make it look as if he had plucked it from a crumpled pile on the floor after leaving it overnight.
On Qin You’s side, the stylist finally finished.
She stood up and appraised herself in the mirror. The hairstylist had straightened her hair and pulled it into a high ponytail. Compared to her previous natural-looking (but actually meticulously crafted) curls, this look was less flirtatious and more capable. It was a refreshing change.
Today’s first scene took place after Ling Yu had already integrated herself into every aspect of Mohe’s daily operations. By this point, she and Li Ruixi were very familiar with each other.
From the start, Ling Yu had helped Mohe land a major contract and handled the “troublesome” tasks Li Ruixi wasn’t good at—such as how to fire old employees who couldn’t keep up with the company’s growth, or telling his friends, “Sorry, your work isn’t worth a 10% stake.” Li Ruixi had been like an ostrich, burying his head in the sand to avoid the dirty work of a CEO. Ling Yu had pulled his head out and forced him to face reality, while simultaneously standing by his side to support him. She was firm yet gentle. Consequently, even though Ling Yu had initially left Li Ruixi with the impression of being amoral and dangerous, he was now completely bewitched by her irresistible, forceful tenderness.
And that led to today’s scene.
Qin You sat behind the desk, crossing her legs and resting them on the table. This posture served several purposes: it showcased the red soles of her heels, highlighted her long, straight legs, and demonstrated that Ling Yu had effectively taken control of Mohe.
Once the cameras were in place, Director Wang signaled to start. Qin You picked up a laptop, balanced it on her lap, and began typing away. Her aura instantly became sharp; Ling Yu had come to life through her once again.
A “knock-knock” sounded as Li Ruixi tapped twice on the already open glass door.
Ling Yu glanced up at him, letting out a soft “Mm?” from her throat before quickly looking back down.
Li Ruixi walked in somewhat awkwardly, unable to find his words for a long moment.
Ling Yu looked up again, her gaze lingering on him a bit longer this time.
“What is it?” Ling Yu asked.
Li Ruixi’s face instantly flushed. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before finally stammering, “Ahem… we’re just about finished with things here. Do you want to go grab a coffee to celebrate?”
Ling Yu raised an eyebrow.
Li Ruixi hadn’t said it explicitly, but his expression gave him away.
Ling Yu stared at him intently. Just as the silence in the air became uncomfortably thick, she suddenly spoke. “I don’t date work associates.”
Li Ruixi froze, his face turning a deep crimson.
In truth, he hadn’t even been bold enough to ask Ling Yu out directly.
His feelings for her were still vague and hazy, and the invitation had been sufficiently ambiguous. Work at Mohe had reached a milestone, and it was indeed worth celebrating. It was a tentative “half-date” with a perfect excuse.
He just hadn’t expected Ling Yu to expose it so bluntly.
Ling Yu snapped the laptop shut and swung her legs off the desk. She stood up.
“Do you know Cao Jie from Changling Capital?”
“Huh?”
Li Ruixi was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic, looking bewildered.
“Three years ago, there was a startup just as hot as Mohe. To get Changling Capital into the Series A round, Cao Jie personally drove the CEO everywhere and stayed up with him until three or four in the morning every single night until he got what he wanted. If that were you, would you think he was trying to turn you gay?”
A slight curve touched Ling Yu’s lips. “Li Ruixi, there will be plenty of people sucking up to you in the future. Start acting like someone worth fawning over.”