“I have faith in you.” Yan Huan smiled demurely at their reflection in the mirror. A second later, she saw, through the mirror, a woman entering the room: it was Su Muran, dressed in a white one-piece dress from a famous clothing brand. The white, pristine dress made Yan Huan feel like throwing up.
Yan Huan could tell that Su Muran was going for the innocent White Lotus look, even though she was really nothing more than a fake Green Tea Bitch.
Su Muran had just entered the room when she heard Yue Ran say he would turn Yan Huan into the most beautiful woman in the world, another Helen of Troy.
Su Muran thought that was a massive over-exaggeration. Surely she was prettier than whoever this Yan Huan was?
Su Muran strode confidently into the room—and stopped short when she saw the enigmatic smile on Yan Huan’s perfect face.
Yan Huan’s odd, knowing smile made her feel uneasy, but Su Muran decided she would not waste her time engaging with lowly peasants.
She was the main character, after all. Everyone else was only there to make her look good.
Yue Ran began to work his magic. He had a unique approach to makeup; instead of winging it and trying to get the correct look through trial and error, he spent a lot of time perfecting the look he was going for inside his head. His method worked, because the end result was always mind-blowing.
Yan Huan’s perfect features only made things easier for him.
When Yue Ran had finished applying her makeup, Yan Huan could only stare in amazement at her reflection in the mirror. The radiant woman looking back at her was every bit the woman she had read about in the script for Beauty—the woman who had married into the rich Qin family and now ran the household; the sophisticated, highly-educated daughter of a distinguished government official; the girl who had grown up among calculative, backstabbing women.
Yan Huan’s lips curved into a small smile. She was invincible.
Beside Yan Huan, Allen was working on Su Muran’s makeup. When he saw Yan Huan, his hand slipped, leaving a large swathe of eye shadow on Su Muran’s cheek. Anger erupted within Su Muran when she saw his mistake, but she controlled herself and did not say anything.
Su Muran was arrogant by nature. She was the only heir to the Su family; everyone was therefore nothing more than an insignificant ant in her eyes. She commanded the wind and the rain, and she was not about to let a nobody like Yan Huan outshine her.
But principal photography had yet to begin, and already Su Muran felt that she had lost to Yan Huan. She stared at Yan Huan’s reflection in the mirror: all she could see was Chen Jing. The serene woman with her long lashes and flawless profile no matter which way she turned her head, was Chen Jing brought to life. The tinge of arrogance in her every expression—the sort of haughty dignity that could only be found in children of wealthy families—was entirely characteristic of Chen Jing.
The role of Chen Jing fit Yan Huan so well everyone who saw her wondered whether the role had been written specifically for her. It was either that, or Yan Huan had been born to play the role.
When the full-costume photos were ready, Director Jin could only shake his head.
“Director, Chen Jing looks so much more sophisticated and dignified than Mei Rushi in these photos. In fact, Mei Rushi looks like an uncultured country bumpkin in comparison.” It was clear what the staff was implying: there was no way the audience would take the show seriously if the supporting actress stole the limelight from the female lead.
Director Jin sighed again. “It isn’t just their looks. I’m pretty sure there’s a huge gap in their acting skills, too.”
He knew what he was talking about: this was his third time working with Yan Huan, after all. Even Liang Chen, the superstar who was famous for her acting skills, had been impressed with Yan Huan’s acting. On top of that, Yan Huan had won Best Newcomer and Best Supporting Actress at the Golden Phoenix Award, and her first feature film had grossed over 600 million yuan at the box office. It was obvious by now that she was no ordinary actress; it would take an even better actress to outshine someone like Yan Huan.
It was just a full-costume photo, but Yan Huan had proven that she was leagues above Su Muran. There was no room for debate; the point had been made.
One was a queen. The other was nothing more than a cabbage, in comparison.
The queen was Yan Huan, of course. If this had been a fight, her stately aura alone would have been enough to pulverize the poor little cabbage that was Su Muran.
This made Director Jin all the more concerned for Yan Huan’s future. Yan Huan was an outstanding actress, but she could not afford to step on Su Muran’s toes. The Su family was extremely powerful; they had to be, for the role of the female lead to be forcefully taken from Yan Huan and given to Su Muran instead.
The director knew that Yan Huan could not help outshining Su Muran. Yan Huan was a true professional, one of those actresses who were 100% committed to their roles. Only a superstar like Liang Chen would be able to act opposite Yan Huan without paling in comparison.
Was Su Muran as talented as Liang Chen?
No, of course not.
Liang Chen winning the Best Actress award was proof of that. The award would have gone to Su Muran, otherwise.
Director Jin hoped his misgivings about Su Muran were completely off the mark; perhaps the actress would turn out to be another dark horse, just like Yan Huan. At least, that was what he repeatedly told himself, because the alternative was too horrifying to think about: if Su Muran was not up to the task, the entire show would be ruined. No amount of tears and regret would save it then.
This was precisely why he hated it when actors got on his projects through “backdoor” connections.
…
Lu Yi drove his car into a quiet mountain villa. It was no ordinary mountain villa, however, as evidenced by the sentries posted along the perimeter. The villa was under strict military management.
Security was tight, but Lu Yi’s car entered the villa without any issue; the gates were programmed to automatically open for him once the infrared cameras scanned his car.
He walked to a two-story building and knocked on the door.
A moment later, a woman who looked to be in her forties emerged from behind the door. As soon as she saw Lu Yi, her face split into a smile. Her eyes twinkled merrily.
“Good of you to come, Lu Yi. Your grandfather was just talking about you yesterday. He was wondering why you haven’t visited for a while now.”
Lu Yi greeted the middle-aged woman with a simple “Hello, Auntie.” He entered the building.
The house belonged to Lu Yi’s grandfather on his mother’s—Ye Shuyun’s—side. The Ye family usually stayed out of the public eye, but that did not change the fact that they wielded tremendous power within the military and business spheres.
Lu Yi was a respectable, successful young man, but that was not the only reason the Lu family treated him with the greatest respect. He was also related to the Ye family, having inherited the Ye family blood from his mother. Ye Jianguo was especially fond of Lu Yi as he was the only grandchild from his daughter, Ye Shuyun; in fact, the old man liked him better than his other grandchildren, having personally coached Lu Yi ever since he was a young boy.
“I’m here to see you, Grandpa.”
Lu Yi changed into a pair of indoor shoes. He walked over to Ye Jianguo and seated himself before him.
Ye Jianguo was already retired, but he still looked like a war stallion, ready for battle. His hair had turned gray, but his eyes were bright and alert. His mental faculties were still as sharp as ever, and his movements had not slowed with age. In other words, he did not seem at all like an old man.
Ye Jianguo had been meditating. He opened his eyes. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” He looked at his grandson over, and was pleased with what he saw. Lu Yi did not hunch or slouch like the others; he sat like a military man, with a very straight back. It was only natural for Lu Yi to have grown into a disciplined and accomplished adult under his grandfather’s watchful eye.
“I need your help, Grandpa.” Lu Yi did not beat around the bush. He was here for a reason.
He accepted the cup of tea the Lu family caretaker had brought him and lifted it to his lips for a small sip. “Excellent tea!” It was high quality Longjing tea, his grandfather’s favorite; only the Lu family caretaker knew the correct way to brew the tea to bring out the full depth of its flavors.
“Haha…” The caretaker chuckled warmly. “I haven’t forgotten that you like this tea. You and your grandfather share the same tastes.”
Lu Yi set his cup down. He could still taste the tea on his lips. His compliments had been entirely sincere; he was not the type to hand out fake compliments just to be polite. He meant every word he said.
“So, what is it?”
Ye Jianguo watched his grandson intently as he tried to guess what the young man wanted. But it was no use: Lu Yi had inherited his stoic demeanor from his grandfather, and now, not even Ye Jianguo himself could tell what his grandson was thinking. Instead of feeling flummoxed, however, Ye Jianguo was immensely proud of his talented and accomplished grandson. He could ask for nothing more in life.
