She had made up her mind: this would be her next project.
She couldn’t care less about The Legend of the Condor Heroes now—if Su Muran wanted the role of Little Dragon Girl, well, it was hers for the taking.
“I’ll take this one,” said Yan Huan decisively, “and that’s that.”
“Okay.” Luo Lin got out her phone. “I’ll get right on it, since you’ve made up your mind. I’ll head over to the agency and sign the contract to make it official—we don’t want to let Su Muran mess things up again. She’s trying to indirectly ice you, you know, by instructing the production teams not to work with you. I didn’t mention this, but…” she waved the scripts in her hand, “…it looks like she’s already persuaded all the larger projects to shut the door on you. But it looks like she didn’t bother to do the same with the smaller projects—or maybe she thinks it would be funny to throw you a few sad scraps from the table.”
With that, Luo Lin turned and immediately made a beeline for the agency. The last thing she wanted was for Su Muran to swoop in and steal the crumbs in their hands again.
A moment later, Yan Huan’s phone began to ring. It was Lu Yi.
She put the phone to her ear, kicked off her shoes, and began swaying her legs back and forth under the table. She was entirely at ease, and not at all self-conscious.
“Su Muran axed your role.” Lu Yi knew everything Su Muran had done, because he had been keeping a close eye on Yan Huan. “But I’ve helped you deal with it. You can choose whichever role you want now—the female lead, the secondary female lead, it’s all up to you.”
Lu Yi leaned back into his chair. “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with everything she throws at you, and she won’t even know it. Feel free to ask for whichever roles you’re interested in. The Su family will never be able to lay a finger on you.”
“It’s fine.” Yan Huan continued to kick her legs back and forth as she propped herself on the table. “I’m not interested in Condor Heroes. There’s been so many remakes of it, and I don’t think the upcoming project will bring anything new to the table. I’ve decided on another show. Luo Lin’s already on her way to finalize the contract.”
“Okay…” Lu Yi stood up and shoved his free hand into his pocket. “Do you want me to help you deal with Su Muran?” He knew that Yan Huan was a tough woman with a mind of her own; she would only ask him for assistance when it was absolutely necessary. She had not mentioned Su Muran to him again, which was why he had decided to check with her to see if she wanted to deal with Su Muran on her own.
“It’s fine,” Yan Huan repeated with a serene smile on her face. “The fact that she wants to ice me proves that she’s afraid of me. Well, I’ll wait to see if she can actually grow and mature into a competent actress. I’ll welcome her as my rival if she can prove she’s worthy of my time.”
She was not lying; Yan Huan thought of Su Muran as her rival, a rival who she hoped would eventually be able to put up a good fight. She had lost to Su Muran once, in her previous life, and she needed Su Muran to be at her peak potential before going up against her again. She needed to defeat Su Muran when the latter was at her most powerful, to alleviate the sting from her previous defeat.
She refused to accept that she had somehow lost to an incompetent woman.
She would wait for Su Muran to grow as an actress—and then it would be a race to see who would be the first to win the Best Actress award.
“If you need help, just let me know.” Lu Yi was not particularly surprised. Yan Huan had always been a proud, capable woman who preferred to handle things on her own, instead of relying on other people all the time.
“Okay.” Yan Huan had not realized it herself, but her voice suddenly sounded sweet and shy—like a purring kitten rubbing its head against a leg.
“I’m making dumplings today. Do you want to come over?” she asked. She already knew that Lu Yi would come—he only declined the offer when he was extremely busy and had to work through the night, or when he had to visit the Lu family home.
“Okay. I’ll be there at seven.” Lu Yi sat down and booted up his computer, eager to finish his work as soon as possible. The sooner he finished his work, the sooner he would be able to head over to Yan Huan’s place and eat his favorite dumplings.
Yan Huan hung up the phone and went to the kitchen to check whether she would have to head out and replenish her supplies; she had to make sure there would be enough dumplings for everyone that night. Lei Qingyi was capable of devouring an entire bucket of dumplings on his own, after all. She had only two words for Lei Qingyi’s massive appetite:
Absolutely. Terrifying.
She was relieved to find that she had enough flour for the dumpling skin, and plenty of shrimp meat for the filling. She had set apart the ingredients the day before, in preparation for the dumpling dinner that night.
She called Yi Ling and asked her to get some takeout on her way home, just to be safe.
Meanwhile, Luo Lin had just pulled up before the agency office. As soon as she stepped into the building, Li Changqing quickly invited her into his office.
“We’ve resolved the issue with Condor Heroes. Yan Huan is free to join the production.”
Li Changqing did not explain what had happened. He merely stated the end result—Yan Huan was now able to play Li Mochou in Condor Heroes.
Luo Lin knew better than to ask for the nitty-gritty details. She had a pretty good idea what had happened: Su Muran had tried to lock all the doors available to Yan Huan, but she had once again underestimated the power and influence of the man watching over Yan Huan.
As a general rule, Yan Huan did not pick fights with other people, but if someone decided to mess with her, the man watching over her would automatically help her deal with it—as he had done for Condor Heroes.
But his help had not been necessary this time.
“Manager Li, Yan Huan won’t be joining the Condor Heroes project.”
Luo Lin placed the script in her hand on the table. Condor Heroes was a big-budget affair—even the background actors in it were famous stars—but the shoot would take longer than average due to the length of the show. More importantly, any project that involved Su Muran was bound to be a trainwreck.
They had therefore chosen to pass on the opportunity.
“She’s turning down the offer?” asked Li Changqing, bewildered. The Legend of the Condor Heroes topped the list of the year’s most anticipated shows. It would be directed by Yan Hua—a director who only helmed big-budget shows—and there would be many A-listers involved. What a waste to turn down the offer!
“We’ll be taking this role instead.” Luo Lin did not bother with explanations. Yan Huan had decided, and that was that—there was no way the actress would change her mind now, not even if someone put a knife to her throat.
Li Changqing wanted to try to persuade Luo Lin to get Yan Huan to change her mind—Yan Huan was now free to join the production, after all, and there was no reason to turn down a good offer out of spite. But he saw the determined look on Luo Lin’s face, and knew any attempts at persuasion would be futile.
That did not stop his mouth from twitching in dismay when he saw the script Luo Lin had placed on the table, however.
“This one?”
“Yes.” Luo Lin did not think there was anything strange about Yan Huan’s decision. “Yan Huan chose it herself.”
“Okay.” Li Changqing privately thought it was silly of Yan Huan to choose a no-name show over a classic like The Legend of the Condor Heroes, but he kept his opinions to himself. He knew he did not have a say in the matter.
Over at the Su residence, Su Muran’s pretty features were now twisted with anger.
“What did you just say? Yan Huan is now free to join the Condor Heroes project?”
“That’s right,” Su Muran’s manager replied sullenly. Yan Huan was a much better actress than Su Muran, as evidenced by the way she had out-acted Su Muran in every scene for Beauty. The role of the Little Dragon Girl was supposed to be a chance for Su Muran to redeem herself and save her reputation: she was pretty enough, after all, and with the help of makeup, and a large ensemble of A-listers in supporting roles for Condor Heroes, it would be easy enough for her to rid herself of the stigma from Beauty.
