MGG - 2

Chapter 2: Smile

Su Ling gripped the rope of the swing with one hand, gathering her emotions. The moment she sat on the swing, she adjusted her expression and turned her head.

A burst of white light illuminated the stage as melancholic music began to play. Suddenly, a ghostly figure whipped its head around—

Guo Mingyan, sitting in the audience, gasped, his shock erupting into expletives: “What the hell is this?!”

But it didn’t end there. The “ghost” on stage proceeded to take drugs. She unscrewed the bottle, tipped it back, and swallowed greedily. Then she tried to shake off her shoes—but for some reason, they remained firmly in place.

Unbothered, she stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, tears conspicuously absent. Instead, she began enacting the effects of the drugs—convulsing violently on the swing, her eyes rolling back until she finally went limp.

...And just like that, she was “dead.”

Guo Mingyan: …

Qin Xiao’s rowdy entourage: …

Guo Mingyan gawked, utterly stunned. In all his years, he had never witnessed such an eye-searing performance. His stomach churned, threatening to bring up lunch.

Panicking, Guo Mingyan glanced at Qin Xiao’s reaction. The man’s face remained impassive as he stared at the stage for several seconds before turning away.

Guo Mingyan covered his eyes. “Good God, is this really Z Media University?”

Qin Xiao chuckled softly, turning to Chen Fan, the instructor seated behind him, and remarked coolly: “Your institution is truly remarkable—such talent abounds.”

Chen Fan, still reeling from shock and anger, instinctively defended himself: “She wasn’t like this during rehearsals…” But then, remembering Qin Xiao’s infamous temper, he hastily changed tack: “Tonight, I’ll have her apologize to Mr. Qin.”

Before Qin Xiao could respond, Guo Mingyan interjected loudly: “Keep her far away—far away! What’s the point of an apology?” Just looking at her was painful.

By now, the performance had concluded. Chen Fan, recalling Su Ling’s earlier appearance, couldn’t muster the words to describe her as the ethereal beauty she once was.

The person he had hoped to impress was now thoroughly offended.

Qin Xiao rose, slipping on his suit jacket, his features cold and unreadable. “Let’s go.”

In the wings, Su Ling packed up her things and gently pulled a dazed Yun Bu along. “Let’s head back.”

Tang Weiwei watched the still-fully-made-up Su Ling with an odd expression. Was this frail, impoverished girl insane? She used to have the reputation of a goddess, but tonight, she had become a laughingstock.

They walked a fair distance before Yun Bu finally spoke, her voice low: “Oh no, Lingling, you’re done for. Chen Fan will want to kill you.”

Su Ling turned her head, revealing a faint smile beneath her ghastly makeup. “It’s fine.”

Yun Bu swallowed hard. “It’s not fine! If today’s video gets out, what production company will ever hire you again? What about your dream?”

Su Ling froze. Dream? After five years of captivity, she had almost forgotten—she had once dreamed of becoming a big star.

She had studied tirelessly, earning a spot at Media University. Whenever she wasn’t in class, she worked part-time jobs to cover her expensive tuition—all for this fragile, bubble-like dream.

She shook her head slightly. “Auditions won’t judge me solely on today’s performance. I’ll work harder in the future.”

Yun Bu was clearly hopeless, unable to process Su Ling’s words. Her face screamed disaster. After a long pause, she muttered, “But there’s still the victory banquet tonight.”

Qin Xiao was hosting a lavish dinner, and all the instructors and performers would attend.

Su Ling’s smile faded, replaced by a glimmer of cold resolve in her eyes. “I know.”

How could she forget? In her past life, it was during this very night that she had been sent to Qin Xiao’s bed. When she woke up, her peaceful life had been shattered, leaving her cornered with no way out—and no idea who had betrayed her.

Back in her dormitory, Su Ling changed out of her performance costume. She was satisfied with her makeup and decided not to remove it—for now, at least. Even if she were ultimately betrayed again, this grotesque face alone would surely disgust Qin Xiao to no end.

He might have had the nerve to sleep with her while she lay unconscious, but surely not with her current horrifying visage.

Yun Bu fretted, sighing repeatedly. Something about Su Ling felt different after her nap. Su Ling had always been timid—had stage fright caused her disastrous performance?

Su Ling had no intention of attending the banquet. Curiosity held no sway over her; more than figuring out who had harmed her, she simply wanted to stay safe.

Back in her dorm, she climbed into bed, wrapping herself tightly in her blanket. “Yun Bu, I’m not feeling well. I won’t be going to the banquet.”

But not long after, her phone rang. On the other end, Chen Fan’s furious voice barked: “Su Ling, what’s wrong with you? Get over here immediately!”

Su Ling’s voice was muffled as she replied, “Teacher, I’m not feeling well.”

Chen Fan wasn’t buying it. He knew Su Ling was an easy target. “Your performance today is enough to fail you this semester. Apologize!”

“Alright,” she murmured softly.

The dorm lights were dim. Before leaving, Yun Bu had turned them off to let Su Ling rest. Alone in the dark, Su Ling stared at her hands—thin and delicate, pale and smooth in the shadows. This very fragility was why everyone felt entitled to manipulate her.

Others might not fear failing a course, but she did. Since entering university, she hadn’t missed a single class, consistently ranking first in her major.

While her classmates attended parties, she buried herself in books at the library. While they went to concerts, she practiced tirelessly in front of the dance studio mirror.

All for that eight-thousand-yuan national scholarship.

The poor had no dignity.

After a moment of silence, she changed clothes and headed to the hotel.

The night wind chilled her to the bone, and she tightened her coat around her, watching her shadow stretch endlessly under the lamplight. Don’t be afraid, she told herself. He hasn’t fallen for me yet—things can still improve.

Qin Xiao wasn’t easy to approach. Accustomed to his lofty position, he rarely mingled with ordinary people.

When she entered the private room, she scanned it quickly—thankfully, he wasn’t there. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Su Ling bowed deeply to Chen Fan and her classmates. “I wasn’t in the right state. My apologies.” The students exchanged uneasy glances, none daring to speak.

Chen Fan was notorious for his lack of grace. Furious at Su Ling, he saw her as the reason Qin Xiao wouldn’t help him secure promotions or resources—a golden opportunity ruined by this usually obedient student.

He couldn’t accept it.

“Look at yourself! What kind of mess are you? Wash your face and come apologize!” Guo Mingyan had said to keep her away, but Qin Xiao hadn’t explicitly rejected the idea. Instead, the man idly rubbed his ring finger, smirking ambiguously. Among these people, the real priority was pleasing Qin Xiao—and as long as he hadn’t outright refused, there was still hope.

Su Ling raised her head to meet Chen Fan’s gaze. Her eyes were clear and cold, harboring a chilling suspicion.

She suspected Chen Fan had been the one to send her to Qin Xiao’s bed. Perhaps he’d planned it during rehearsals. Otherwise, with her introverted personality, how could she have landed the lead role?

Her lips pale, Su Ling weighed her options. If all went smoothly, she still had a year or two left at Z Media University. Chen Fan, as her counselor, couldn’t be offended. She wanted to refuse, but in her twenty-four years of life, refusing was something she had never mastered.

Qin Xiao’s domineering nature left no room for defiance. She had nearly forgotten how to say no.

In the end, she resorted to a roundabout excuse: “I don’t have any makeup remover—I can’t wash it off. Let’s just go as I am, Teacher Chen.”

Chen Fan, eager for any excuse to ascend, merely frowned and nodded.

He led Su Ling upstairs. “You understand how this industry works, right? Know who you can offend and who you can’t. If you can’t learn to read the situation, you might as well quit early.”

After a long pause, the girl behind him finally murmured a soft “Yes.”

When they entered the room, Tang Weiwei was offering a toast to Qin Xiao. She knelt by his feet, docile as a kitten. The man lounged on the sofa, his expression obscured in the dim, flickering light.

He liked obedience.

Besides Guo Mingyan, another man named Dong Xu was present. Su Ling recognized him as a talented director, though genius often bordered madness. His obsession with his craft surpassed everything else.

As Su Ling stepped in, her ghastly makeup shocked even Guo Mingyan, a late-stage aesthetics enthusiast. He covered his eyes. “Chen Fan, are you deaf? Didn’t I tell you to keep her away?”

Chen Fan hurriedly explained: “Young Master Guo, she’s here to apologize.”

“No need, no need! Bring someone attractive instead!”

Chen Fan wanted to insist she was the most beautiful, but even those with functioning eyes wouldn’t believe it. Makeup was sorcery indeed.

Still, Chen Fan understood priorities. He glanced toward the innermost corner. “Young Master Qin, my deepest apologies. We’ve ruined your masterpiece.”

His words shocked nearly everyone. Green Plum was Qin Xiao’s work?

Su Ling struggled to remain calm and silent. No wonder—the perverse ending perfectly matched his tastes. At this moment, a chilling thought struck her: perhaps Qin Xiao’s favorite scene was the final act. If their roles hadn’t been swapped, would the events of her past life never have happened?

“Qin Xiao, you write scripts?” Dong Xu, who had been absorbed in thought, looked up, disbelief written across his face.

From the shadows, the man chuckled softly, speaking slowly: “No.” With that simple denial, Dong Xu’s question died on his lips.

Pushed forward by Chen Fan, Su Ling took a step ahead. Realizing her cue, she delivered a flat, emotionless apology: “My apologies, Mr. Qin.” From a distance, she bowed deeply.

The man remained silent, and Su Ling dared not move, maintaining her posture. She stared at her tightly wrapped sneakers, betraying no hint of inappropriate emotion.

“Aren’t all you actors as expressionless as this?” he sneered. “Can you even smile?”

Su Ling straightened, a surge of indescribable hatred coursing through her. This was Qin Xiao—when he commanded her to smile, she smiled; when he demanded tears, she cried. Forcing her lips into a strained grin, she gave them the most reluctant smile she could muster.

Combined with her terrifying makeup, it made even the weakest-stomached Guo Mingyan recoil with a sharp intake of breath.

Dong Xu furrowed his brows, delivering a blunt critique: “She doesn’t deserve the title of actor.”

Qin Xiao chuckled softly.

“Tang Weiwei,” he said, “teach your classmate how to smile.”