Chapter 3: Yu Chi Was Already a Background Actor in Elementary School

Starting at ten o’clock, Yu Chi’s phone began receiving a barrage of calls from unknown numbers.

When the first harassing call came in, Yu Chi was standing outside the KTV restroom smoking. As soon as he answered, the caller launched into a tirade, cursing out every one of his ancestors up to eighteen generations back.

Yu Chi listened with furrowed brows at first, but by the end, his expression was completely blank.

Finally, the caller delivered their parting threat: “If our Li Li’s face ends up scarred, you’re dead.”

Yu Chi bit down on the cigarette filter, already guessing that news of Sheng Li’s hospitalization had leaked.

Sheng Li was a top-tier celebrity, and with hundreds of people on set, it was surprising her hospital stay hadn’t been exposed until three days later. The Songshan Film Studio rarely hosted big productions these days, so whenever a crew arrived, local extras would crowd around hoping for work. Finding out which restaurant provided boxed meals to the production team would only take a few questions.

Perhaps the caller wasn’t used to being ignored after hurling insults for so long because there was a moment of silence before they hesitantly asked, “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Our Li Li…” Yu Chi paused, a faint smile crossing his lips. “A few hours ago, someone said my life is worth millions. Do you have that kind of money?”

“What?!”

The caller sounded shocked, probably thinking he’d lost his mind.

“If you don’t, then I won’t die.”

Yu Chi hung up, shoved his phone into his pocket, and turned to extinguish the cigarette butt in the ashtray on top of the trash bin. A male voice behind him called out, “What did you mean by ‘I won’t die’? What’s going on?”

Sheng Li had guessed one thing correctly about Yu Chi—his demeanor carried an aura of rebellion, with a hint of mischief and defiance that attracted girls but didn’t win him many friends. Xu Yang, who studied vocal music and had recently passed the art exam for Beijing Film Academy, was Yu Chi’s closest friend at school.

Xu Yang knew that Yu Chi had a strained relationship with his family, though Yu Chi rarely talked about it, so the specifics remained unclear.

“It’s nothing,” Yu Chi said dismissively, not wanting to elaborate.

Another call came in almost immediately, and once again, it opened with a torrent of abuse.

Yu Chi hung up after hearing just the beginning.

Within five seconds, the phone rang again. From the restroom to the private room, in less than a minute, his phone had rung seven times. Xu Yang, unaware of the situation, joked, “Who’s calling so much? Is it some girl chasing after you?”

“No.” Yu Chi didn’t feel like explaining, especially since it involved a celebrity like Sheng Li. He simply turned off his phone.

Xu Yang knew Yu Chi well enough to sense when he didn’t want to talk. After asking twice and getting no response, he changed the subject. “After the college entrance exam, we can’t stay in the dorms anymore. Do you have any plans? If you don’t have anywhere to go for now, you can stay at my place for a while. We’ve got plenty of empty rooms.”

“No thanks. I’m going back to Songshan.” Yu Chi pushed open the door to the private room.

As soon as he entered, he heard someone shout, “Holy crap, who made Goddess Li allergic?! If I find out, I’ll beat them to a pulp!”

Yu Chi paused mid-step and glanced over. The speaker was the guy who sat in front of him in class—a die-hard fan of Sheng Li, practically obsessed to the point of madness.

The teacher smacked the back of his head. “You just finished the college entrance exam and you’re already looking for trouble? Spend less time obsessing over celebrities and more time studying if you want to score higher next time!”

Everyone burst into laughter.

Yu Chi settled into a corner of the couch, twirling his phone in his hand as his gaze swept across the room. It seemed none of his classmates had leaked his number. A girl sat down beside him, leaning close to his ear due to the noise in the room. “Yu Chi, where are you planning to go to university?”

Yu Chi subtly leaned back, replying indifferently, “Not sure yet.”

The girl, beautiful but visibly disappointed, lowered her eyes and forced a smile. “I’m heading to Beijing. We’ve been classmates for so long—let’s keep in touch, okay?”

Yu Chi leaned back on the couch and gave a noncommittal grunt.

“Let’s take some group photos!” Someone waved everyone over. “For old time’s sake!”

The group surged forward, squeezing Yu Chi and the girl into the center of the frame.

________________________________________

The next morning, Sheng Li woke up to Yuan Yuan saying, “Li Li, the production team asked if we should switch restaurants.”

This question had been raised by the director on Sheng Li’s second day in the hospital. While it was indeed the restaurant’s fault, Sheng Li was the only one among hundreds of people on set who had an allergic reaction. It wouldn’t make sense to disrupt everyone’s routine just for her.

Top stars dreaded rumors of being “difficult to work with,” so Rong Hua had immediately declined the suggestion.

Most likely, last night’s trending topic had stirred things up, with some fans leaving extreme comments. That’s why the production team had asked again.

“No need.”

Sheng Li picked up her phone and called Rong Hua.

After some persistent persuasion, she finally managed to get her Weibo account and password back.

Rong Hua said, “Since I’m giving your account back, you should post something to reassure the fans.” Last night, the company’s official Weibo had already announced that Sheng Li was fine and would resume filming in a few days. Rong Hua had reposted it on Sheng Li’s account, but perhaps it came across as too formal, as the fans still seemed worried.

Sheng Li touched her face, feeling that the texture wasn’t as terrifying as before. Mustering her courage, she went to the bathroom to check herself in the mirror. Her condition had indeed improved significantly—her swelling had mostly gone down. She put on her cap and mask, stood against the light by the window, and took a selfie showing only her eyes. She posted it on Weibo.

Sheng Li V: Isn’t this proof that I’m doing fine? In a couple of days, I’ll show my face again. Also, please don’t bother the production team or go after the restaurant. It was just a small accident. Let’s not blow this out of proportion.

The comments flooded in almost instantly, with fans excitedly exclaiming: Finally, Li Li showed her face! Even seeing just her eyes is breathtakingly beautiful!

Some fans added: This is definitely Li Li posting herself! Last night’s post was clearly from the official account!

Fans were always perceptive.

Sheng Li scrolled through the comments for a while before suddenly remembering something. She tried calling Yu Chi again.

Still, his phone was off.

She turned to Yuan Yuan. “No one has doxxed Yu Chi or the restaurant, right?”

Yuan Yuan stayed in contact with a few major fans and fan clubs, so she usually knew about any developments.

“There shouldn’t be anyone,” Yuan Yuan replied. “I was worried about it last night, so I checked. Our fans know how much you hate doxxing, and they’re usually very obedient. There shouldn’t be any issues.”

Then why was Yu Chi’s phone still off?

Sheng Li frowned, assuming he must be overwhelmed by fan harassment.

At five in the afternoon, Rong Hua arrived from Shanghai. She hadn’t known about Yu Chi’s visit until she saw his ID card on the table and asked about it. Rong Hua remarked coolly, “Pushing a teenager into handling this mess—what kind of parents does that?”

Yuan Yuan timidly raised her hand. “Earlier, someone in the production team’s group chat mentioned gossip. They said the restaurant owner’s eldest son isn’t his biological child. Yu Chi apparently never called the owner ‘Dad,’ instead referring to him as ‘Uncle.’”

Sheng Li paused. “Are you sure?”

If that was true, it made sense why Yu Chi had come to see her himself—and why he’d said what he did.

Yuan Yuan nodded. “Local extras started spreading this gossip after finding out you were hospitalized. It seems pretty reliable.”

The three fell silent for a moment.

Sheng Li pursed her lips, then pulled the ID card out of Rong Hua’s hands. “I’ll handle this matter myself.”

Rong Hua glanced at her, then went over her upcoming schedule. Sheng Li’s head spun as she listened. Due to her hospitalization, all her previous work arrangements had been disrupted. Some days during filming had been negotiated specifically for advertising shoots and brand events, all scheduled meticulously.

It was clear that for the next three months, Sheng Li might not have a single day off, facing an overwhelming workload.

“Sister Rong, exploiting me like this—if I die from overwork, you’ll suffer divine retribution,” Sheng Li lamented, feeling as though her life was bleak.

Rarely gentle, Rong Hua softened her tone. “Once this drama wraps, I’ll give you a week off.”

Sheng Li bargained: “Two weeks.”

“Sure, why not? I’ll give you a whole year off—you might as well retire early.”

“…”

“We’ll discuss further after I meet with the production team tomorrow.” Rong Hua ignored Sheng Li’s glare. “I’ll arrange another assistant to cook for you, just in case.”

Without hesitation, Sheng Li replied, “No need. Yuan Yuan is enough.”

Yuan Yuan had been with her for four years, loyal, hardworking, and sharp—one person doing the work of two. She was the best assistant Sheng Li had ever had since her debut.

Normally, Yuan Yuan would eagerly agree: “Right, right, right.”

But this time, she was staring at her phone, completely silent.

Sheng Li tapped her. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing.” Yuan Yuan handed her the phone. “It’s that same person sharing gossip again. They said Yu Chi worked as a background actor in elementary school, earning his own money when he was just eleven or twelve.”