Why was the timing so perfect?
Why had reality slapped her in the face so quickly, without leaving her a moment to recover?
Because Huo Xingchao was the one who had recommended her for this opportunity.
There was something Xuan Wen did not know, Shi Yusheng did not know, and even the system had failed to discover.
Huo Xingchao was actually Shi Yusheng’s fan.
Really.
…Well, he had been.
A large part of Huo Xingchao’s personality had been shaped by his family environment.
His parents’ marriage was a typical alliance of interests. They had little affection for each other. Over the years, although they had not divorced, their feelings toward each other had remained almost entirely negative.
They each pursued their own pleasures, their lives barely intersecting. The one thing they jointly upheld was the great importance they placed on their only son.
As for the Huo family’s youngest daughter, she was not their biological child at all. They had adopted her specifically because they feared their son would be lonely. In their minds, she was little better than a toy.
So from a very young age, Huo Xingchao had grown used to the endless succession of uncles and aunties around his parents, along with the daily attempts to brainwash him.
Mother Huo: Xingchao, your father is such an awful man. If we divorce, you must stay with me.
Father Huo: Xingchao, keep your distance from a woman like your mother. Once the divorce is settled, you and I will stay well away from her.
…
Years passed, and Huo Xingchao grew from an innocent little child into a man in his twenties. Yet the couple still had not managed to divorce, maintaining their dispensable marriage.
For young Master Huo, however, once certain tastes had formed, they were difficult to change.
Take his mother’s lovers: pale, thin, delicate-featured, soft-spoken, with smiles more feminine than a woman’s.
In his mind, men like that generally fell into two categories: kept men and gay men.
His father’s tastes were just as consistent.
Pointed faces, upturned eyes, large breasts, long legs, sultry looks, and a fondness for acting coy.
Simply put, whatever the typical internet beauty looked like, that was what he liked.
Apart from large breasts, an irresistible part of male nature, Huo Xingchao had developed tastes almost entirely opposite to his father’s.
So the first time he saw Shi Yusheng on television, he was utterly dazzled.
An oval face, almond eyes that curved when she smiled, a girlish voice that was nevertheless clear and forceful, and a perfectly earnest manner.
She was exactly Huo Xingchao’s type.
Then he casually looked up some information about her.
Every role she had played was an innocent little fairy, princess, or girl next door.
The great Huo Xingchao promptly joined Little Fairy Shi’s fan club.
Like countless other homebody fans, he hoped to meet the fairy, take a picture together, and get her autograph. If they could also chat and share a meal, that would be the ultimate blessing for a devoted fan.
Of course, none of that would be difficult for someone like him.
The trouble was, he did not want his fandom to be too obvious. He still wanted to maintain his lofty, untouchable image, like a snow lotus on Mount Tianshan.
So he discreetly extended many olive branches.
For example, he invited Shi Yusheng to star in a new television drama.
It was an adaptation of a major property, with a director and production company famous for quality. The heroine fit her usual little-fairy image.
But Shi Yusheng refused. She said she wanted to change direction. She would no longer play little fairies.
So he decided to invite her to do a promotional livestream on Xing Live, offering an extremely high fee.
Just one hour, streaming whatever she liked, for several million in easy earnings.
But Shi Yusheng refused. She said she was not taking the idol route and could not casually exploit her fans that way.
By then, Young Master Huo was already a little displeased. With the last of his patience, he invited Shi Yusheng to endorse a product.
Xing Pictures’ new mobile game. The endorsement fee was generous, the costume design was not at all revealing, and market acceptance and visibility were assured.
This time, Shi Yusheng finally showed some interest in working together.
But not for herself. For another new artist signed to her studio.
She said she did not play games, but that artist loved them. She was enthusiastically trying to secure an opportunity for someone else.
Sitting in his office, Huo Xingchao looked at the documents and recording sent over to him, took a deep breath, and said calmly,
“Tell her,”
his subordinate lowered his head respectfully,
“thank you, but there’s no need. We look forward to working together next time.”
Thank you, but there would never be a next time.
He had already gone from fan to casual observer. Not turning around and becoming her hater was his final act of kindness toward her.
…
Shi Yusheng should really have been thankful that Huo Xingchao still had enough self-respect to stop in time.
Otherwise, with a hater this wealthy, powerful, and willful, Xuan Wen would not even need to act. Shi Yusheng could have been finished a hundred and eight thousand times over.
She should also have been thankful that she and Huo Xingchao had become intimate that night.
One night together had earned her the most powerful and overbearing fan of her life.
…
For now, however, Shi Yusheng had no idea she had narrowly escaped such a dangerous ordeal. She was wholly absorbed in preparing for her new audition.
The audition for Lost Among Mortals was the most important turning point for the future of her career.
Shi Yusheng would play a high-school girl from a single-parent family, raised by her mother. Gloomy and withdrawn, she seemed surrounded by an oppressive air of negativity.
She prepared extensively for the role.
She reread the novel. For two short days, with no scheduled commitments, she stayed in her room studying the character and script all day.
For the past few years, Shi Yusheng had been hoping for exactly this kind of opportunity.
It was not that she could not act, but her image had long been fixed. Good scripts that could help her change direction rarely came her way. She dared not gamble on weaker scripts and productions, afraid she would fail to transform her image and damage her reputation instead.
She was approaching her mid-to-late twenties, after all. She could not play the pure maiden forever.
Youth was fleeting. For an actor, the best way to sustain a long career was to gradually move from popularity-based success to becoming a skilled performer who did not rely on fans, looks, or publicity.
Lost Among Mortals was an important opportunity for Shi Yusheng to make that change.
At the audition, she really did perform quite well.
At least, the director was surprised. He had never thought Shi Yusheng was an actress of this caliber.
But that day, Shi Yusheng also encountered two people she had not expected.
The first was Xuan Wen. She had come to audition too, though not for the female lead, but for another prominent role, the third female lead.
They met in the corridor. The moment the woman saw her, she struggled to maintain her expression. But with people coming and going around them, she still forced a smile. “Sister Yusheng.”
Shi Yusheng glanced at her, straightened, opened the door, and walked inside.
The other artists nearby immediately thought that the rumors of bad blood between them must be true.
This was the entertainment industry. They all knew that probably half the displays of sisterly affection were fake.
Watching her retreating figure, Xuan Wen composed herself, her nails digging into her palms, and asked quietly in her mind, “System, is there any way to make Shi Yusheng fail her audition?”
The system’s voice was icy.
“I can only make your audition succeed. Unless you have her recharge me with her lifespan, I cannot affect her.”
“Then is there a way to make me the female lead instead of the third female lead?”
“Originally, yes. But not now.”
Xuan Wen frowned. “Why?”
“Because Huo Xingchao is inside.”
…
Yes. The second person Shi Yusheng had not expected to encounter was Huo Xingchao.
The moment she entered the room, she saw a very familiar man sitting beside the director at the judging table.
It was summer, but the air-conditioning was strong. He wore a black shirt, and his hair had changed color again, from gray highlights to deep chestnut. It fell loosely over his head, without any particular styling.
You know, even male celebrities walking around with granny-gray or oddly colored hair can turn into a Tony1 if they lose their flattering lighting and filters.
But Huo Xingchao was strange. Whatever color he dyed his hair, it always seemed to suit him, never looking tacky or affected.
The man leaned lazily back in his chair, one shirt button undone and his sleeves rolled to his elbows, twirling a pen between his fingers. Seeing her, he curved his lips into a bold smile and said casually,
“Well, our little fairy is here.”
…
Did you know the most awkward thing in the world?
It was not being cheated on by your boyfriend, nor having him choose the other woman after he was caught.
Nor was it being cheated on by your former boyfriend and then publicly accused of being the other woman yourself.
It was accidentally hiring an exorbitantly expensive, shameless big shot while drunk, then working hard to repay the debt and preserve the last of your dignity.
Only to discover a few days later that he was judging your audition. This judge flipped through the script and casually pointed to an opening passage.
She had to play a gloomy girl whose love went unreturned, right in front of him.
The director said, “Where’s Xiao Zhang? Never mind. Xingchao, why don’t you help her run the scene?”
Huo Xingchao nodded and readily agreed.
Shi Yusheng: Why are you treating me like this? What’s wrong with me?
Huo Xingchao: Oh, too many people like me. You… you’re below average.
Shi Yusheng: I can change for you. Tell me what you like. I can change!
Huo Xingchao: Everyone is willing to change for me. Why should I waste my time on you? No breasts, no legs, and you’re not even pretty.
…
Huo Xingchao, damn you.
It was bad enough that you fucking took advantage of me. Now you’re fucking improvising too?
Do you believe I’ll risk my life to kill you once we leave this room?
Do you believe I won’t repay you a single cent?
Do you believe I’ll make sure you never have descendants and leave you kneeling on the ground calling me Dad?
Shi Yusheng’s tears fell one after another. She tried to open her eyes wide enough to see him, but everything was blurred. Choking back sobs, she said,
“But I love you. You have no idea what I’ve given up for you, what I’ve done. No one in this world will ever love you as much as I do. Don’t you understand?”
“Oh.”
He nodded, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I see.”
That was for wanting to change direction.
That was for refusing the idol route.
That was for not playing games.
Come on, then. Let’s hurt each other.
- Tony, often “Teacher Tony,” is a humorous generic nickname for a hairdresser in Chinese internet slang. ↩︎
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