Song Yunsheng was momentarily speechless. Privately, she found it hard to believe that Sang Yu would do such a thing, but since Sang Yu and Su Miao had always been at odds, perhaps there was some misunderstanding involved.
She sighed and said, “I will handle this matter. Tend to your injuries well and don’t let it delay the upcoming filming schedule.”
Su Miao was clearly dissatisfied with such an ambiguous answer. However, she was well aware of Song Yunsheng’s temperament, so she only dared to drop a few subtle hints before hanging up the phone.
Watching the scandal-filled trending searches involving Sang Yu and Jiang Xin every few days already made Song Yunsheng feel uncomfortable. Recalling Sang Yu’s previous comment about “not wanting to spend a lifetime with a block of wood,” her expression darkened even further.
She immediately contacted the director. Originally, she intended to ask about the incident where Su Miao was slapped, but when she spoke, she subconsciously asked about the rumors regarding Sang Yu and Jiang Xin first.
The director quickly explained that it was all media taking things out of context; the two were merely filming. He even brought out the script to prove it. When Song Yunsheng took a brief look at the script for Sang Yu’s character, her anger flared even more.
Not only did Sang Yu’s character have a very detailed romantic arc with Jiang Xin’s character, but there were actually many intimate scenes, including but not limited to kissing scenes and semi-nude scenes. The thought of Sang Yu taking on a role with such a high level of exposure behind her back made Song Yunsheng inexplicably displeased.
Song Yunsheng immediately called Sang Yu. Originally, she wanted to ask what happened between her and Su Miao and, while she was at it, discuss having her give up this drama in exchange for other resources she could provide.
To her surprise, the call was hung up as soon as it connected.
She tried again, and it was hung up once more.
After this cycle repeated several times, Song Yunsheng laughed out of extreme anger. Fine, this person was now taking her less and less seriously.
In a fit of rage, she immediately pressured the director to separate the characters played by Sang Yu and Jiang Xin, insisting they could not have even a shred of a romantic connection.
The screenwriter could not possibly agree to this news no matter how they thought about it.
Unfortunately, Song Yunsheng’s anger had gone to her head. This drama was essentially insignificant to her; at this moment, she only wanted to force Sang Yu to submit. She even went as far as using her investment as a threat. Even if the screenwriter was unwilling, they could only agree to rewrite the plot.
Meanwhile, public opinion was gradually fermenting. Lu Lingxi also saw the trending search. In the past, she felt that as long as there was heat, it didn’t matter if it was “black” or “red” negative or positive fame. But now that Sang Yu had joined the cast and secured a role, having trouble break out at this juncture meant that even if the crew didn’t replace her, there was a high probability the drama would flop.
Therefore, Lu Lingxi called Sang Yu immediately to ask what was going on and whether she knew that anti-fans online were already forming groups to boycott the new drama.
On Sang Yu’s end, she had just laid down to sleep. Because of the injury on her face, even after applying medicine, it still felt fiery and stinging; she didn’t even dare to turn over.
Just as she finally closed her eyes, Song Yunsheng’s calls kept coming like a death knell. She was also harboring resentment, thinking that the other woman was likely calling to hold her accountable for Su Miao’s sake. She simply hung up the phone, set it to silent, and went to sleep out of sight, out of mind.
She was dazed from a nap when she finally saw Lu Lingxi’s missed call and hurried to return it. Lu Lingxi was clearly very anxious, her words exploding like a string of firecrackers.
Sang Yu was dazed by it all. It took her a while to defend herself, explaining what happened step by step while also mentioning that she herself was injured.
Hearing this made Lu Lingxi even angrier. She gritted her teeth and cursed the paparazzi for being inhuman—they had clearly been snooping so close to take photos.
As a result, they only captured the half of her face that was intact. Who would believe that wasn’t intentional?
While Lu Lingxi cursed, Sang Yu was also in a bad mood, but she still urged Lu Lingxi to stay calm. Paparazzi preying on human suffering wasn’t a new phenomenon; as veterans of the entertainment industry, they should be well aware of it.
At this, Lu Lingxi could only stop. She said worriedly, “We absolutely cannot let things continue to ferment like this. You don’t have a PR team right now, and this matter just happens to favor Su Miao. Even thinking with your toes, you’d know Su Miao won’t let this trending topic drop. Public opinion is very dangerous for you right now.”
Sang Yu thought the same. Taking it a step further, she felt this whole situation might have been orchestrated by Su Miao herself.
Seeing Sang Yu remain silent, Lu Lingxi asked tentatively, “How about… you go ask President Song?”
Given Lu Lingxi’s personality, suggesting Song Yunsheng meant it was a last resort. Sang Yu knew this well, but how could there be such a good thing in the world begging for help right after saying such harsh words?
On one hand, Sang Yu felt Song Yunsheng might not necessarily agree—after all, she had just hung up on her last night. On the other hand, she was unwilling to humiliate herself. She mocked herself, saying, “She might not be willing to help. I don’t have the confidence to compete with Su Miao.”
Lu Lingxi actually didn’t hold much hope for this idea either. After all, she had witnessed Sang Yu’s past experiences. She knew in her heart that rather than making Sang Yu beg Song Yunsheng, it would be better to find a way to navigate it herself; perhaps there would be more hope that way.
Thinking this, Lu Lingxi didn’t say anything more. Before hanging up, she instructed Sang Yu not to look at online news and said she would call personally if there was an emergency otherwise, ignore everyone else.
Sang Yu knew Lu Lingxi was afraid of irrational netizens “doxing” her. Her heart felt complex for a moment as she nodded and said, “Thank you, Sister Lu.”
After resting for a few days, the filming schedule resumed. The revised script was delivered to Sang Yu, only for her to discover that it hadn’t just been changed in one or two places—all the emotional entanglement between her character and Jiang Xin’s was gone.
The character’s entire growth trajectory had become strange and contradictory, drifting completely outside the main plotline. Even the character’s highlights had vanished.
This was completely different from what was previously agreed upon. Sang Yu’s expression changed completely, and she immediately went to find the director and the screenwriter.
However, the director and screenwriter were vague and evasive. Hearing Sang Yu’s words, they quietly exchanged looks, their faces full of difficulty, and their answers were nothing but nonsense.
Sang Yu couldn’t understand it. She had heard of this screenwriter before; they rarely changed the plot forcefully due to conflicts between actors. That was why she had forced a smile to negotiate, but now everything had changed.
Sang Yu suppressed her anger and tried to reason, “With these changes, I don’t see any reason for this character to exist. It would be better to just delete it entirely.”
The screenwriter said nothing but showed a look of agreement.
The director glared at the screenwriter while coaxing Sang Yu, saying this role was indispensable and that they would revise the upcoming plot further.
Sang Yu was half-skeptical and couldn’t help asking why the changes were so sudden.
But the two were tight-lipped. Sang Yu had no choice but to leave.
Just as she was pondering whether to inform Lu Lingxi, Sang Yu worried that Lu Lingxi was already overwhelmed by the negative trending searches and wouldn’t have time for her.
Unexpectedly, in the next moment, Lu Lingxi sent a message asking, “Is everything okay with the crew? I just heard President Song applied pressure. Your role hasn’t been affected, has it?”
Sang Yu immediately caught the keyword and asked back, “Pressure? What did Song Yunsheng do?”
Lu Lingxi didn’t respond again, but the “the other party is typing” status at the top stopped and started repeatedly. Sang Yu’s face sank, and she instantly guessed the truth.
She didn’t care to argue with Lu Lingxi anymore. In a rage, she called Song Yunsheng to confront her: “Song Yunsheng, what exactly do you mean by this?”
On the other end, Song Yunsheng surprisingly picked up quickly. But as soon as she did, she heard Sang Yu’s questioning voice. She immediately thought of Sang Yu’s coldness recently and the overwhelming scandals with Jiang Xin, making her feel inexplicably uncomfortable.
But since the two were only in a contract marriage, she was unwilling to show signs of jealousy. After hesitating for a long time, she still felt too embarrassed to confront her directly about the scandals. Instead, she asked, “What happened between you and Su Miao on set?”
Song Yunsheng actually just wanted to use this to change the subject, but in Sang Yu’s ears, it took on a completely different meaning. She let out a cold laugh, suddenly understanding why Su Miao dared to provoke her so much—who else but Song Yunsheng would protect her like this?
Sang Yu’s heart felt incredibly cold. She snapped back directly, “Is this why you meddled with the script? Just to vent Su Miao’s anger? Song Yunsheng, I originally thought you were just cold-natured, but I didn’t expect your character to be so despicable. I was truly blind.”
With that, Sang Yu slammed the phone down.
After hanging up, she regretted it—not the snapping at Song Yunsheng, but the feeling that her previous efforts shouldn’t be ruined like this.
Gritting her teeth, Sang Yu could only go back to reason with the director and screenwriter again. Even if her scenes had to be reduced, they couldn’t just slice the character into pieces until it was completely fractured.
To put it bluntly, it was a guaranteed flop. Sang Yu wasn’t that direct, but she believed the screenwriter and director should understand—unfortunately, no matter how well they understood, they couldn’t withstand the power of capital. They could only shake their heads together.
They tactfully mentioned that sixty percent of the investment for this drama came from the entertainment company under the Song Group, so…
Sang Yu was momentarily speechless. Looking at the expressions of the screenwriter and director, she knew that no matter how much she fought for it, nothing would change.
She left dejectedly, feeling a sense of aimlessness for a moment. It felt as though no matter how hard she worked, a single word from Song Yunsheng could turn everything into nothingness.
But this time, she simply didn’t want to bow her head.
No matter how the script was eventually changed, she would work hard to play the part well. If this drama didn’t work, she would film the next one. She didn’t believe Song Yunsheng could truly cover the sky with one hand.