Chapter 6

After returning to the company from Beijing, Xi Tang overheard her colleagues in the office talking about how the show had finished airing but didn’t see a rise in popularity.

Xi Tang smiled and sat down at the side. The Last Princess He Shuo had aired on CCTV-4, which wasn’t a mainstream channel for younger audiences. Most of the viewers were women over forty.

The lead actress was relatively unknown, and the male lead wasn’t exactly a young idol, so fewer young people watched the show, leading to lower online discussions.

A colleague who was sitting at the computer grinned at her. “Xi Tang, the middle-aged aunties like you.”

Xi Tang laughed. “That’s still pretty good.”

Ni Kailun’s assistant poked their head out and called her into the office.

Xi Tang entered Ni Kailun’s office and found Su Yan there, who was asking Ni Kailun, “Should we stir up some rumors?”

Ni Kailun shook her head. “Yang Yilin has a bad reputation, let’s not cause any trouble. Let’s wait and see until the end of the year.”

Su Yan agreed, then picked up her coffee cup and clicked her way out of the room.

Xi Tang sat on the couch, signing a few work contracts that the company had arranged for her. She was currently taking a break since filming for her new drama hadn’t started yet.

Ni Kailun asked, “How’s the script memorization going?”

This was Xi Tang’s strength, and she confidently replied, “Almost done.”

Ni Kailun reminded her, “Don’t forget to go to your vocal lesson this afternoon.”

Xi Tang nodded while focusing on her writing.

Ni Kailun, sitting by her desk, was flipping through documents on the computer. “There are a lot of year-end event invitations. Start picking out your dresses for the season. Fashion Week is over, and the spring collections for next year have pretty much come out. You can take a look at the clothes from different brands, and I’ll see if I can get more sponsorships.”

Xi Tang warned her not to be overly optimistic. “Mom, it’s hard to say whether I can win an award as a lead actress in my first drama.”

Ni Kailun firmly replied, “This drama is good. Half the year is already over, and there hasn’t been a decent one. There’s one from Zhang Zhiyin in the second half of the year, but whether it can surpass yours is another story. Besides, if I didn’t have these abilities, then all my years of experience in this industry would have been for nothing.”

Xi Tang knew that Ni Kailun had more ambition and a better plan for her career. This year’s three major TV awards were coming up. The first was in October, and the last one would be at the end of the year. The Last Princess He Shuo was a big production, and if Xi Tang could win any of the lead actress awards, the caliber of projects and her pay for future roles would rise significantly.

Ni Kailun waved her hand at her from behind the desk.

Xi Tang stood up and walked over.

Ni Kailun pointed to a few scripts on the desk. “These new scripts just came in. Two of them are movies. You can take a look at them first.”

Xi Tang picked up the stack of scripts and asked, “Are the movie scripts any good?”

“I haven’t looked at them,” Ni Kailun replied, her head down as she signed a few documents. “The investment is average, and the male lead isn’t even confirmed.”

Xi Tang responded quietly, a little disappointed.

Seeing that everything was settled, Ni Kailun gestured for Xi Tang to make her a coffee. Xi Tang walked over and sat on the couch. Ni Kailun added, “Don’t worry. There are hundreds of films released every year, so take your time and choose. There will always be good ones. I’ve seen plenty of celebrities, but good actors need time to refine themselves. People grow old, but their work is eternal. Xi Tang, I’ll make sure you leave your name in this industry—”

She paused and switched to Cantonese, “Your name will be remembered for generations.”

Ni Kailun was extremely strict with her artists, enforcing rigorous training on their appearance, demeanor, and professional conduct. Every artist under her management complained about how tough it was, and Xi Tang, who had fought her way up from the bottom for years, often felt like she might be driven mad by Ni Kailun’s demands. The most common things Ni Kailun would talk to her about were work, investments, and sponsors, and she would always remind her to eat less.

Xi Tang realized that, to her surprise, Ni Kailun had never really discussed acting with her.

In that moment, Xi Tang suddenly felt tears welling up in her eyes.

“Wow,” Xi Tang exclaimed dramatically, just before the tears could spill, “so intense!”

Ni Kailun hugged her and laughed heartily.

Xi Tang leaned on her shoulder, laughing so hard that tears rolled down her face.

Such is life.

Crying and laughing, emotions serve no purpose.

The last time she came back from Beijing, she had a complete emotional breakdown, crying so hard her legs gave out and her eyes were swollen like peaches. The sorrow inside her surged in waves. When she got off the plane and into the company car, Ni Kailun slapped her hard on the back twice. The impact left her spine numb and a ringing sound in her ears. She could still hear Ni Kailun angrily scolding her: “When your episode salary is 100,000 per episode, you better cry your heart out in front of the camera. If there’s no camera, don’t cry at all!”

After the summer solstice, Hengdian had several rains.

The roof of the set got wet, so they decided to shoot a rain scene instead. Xi Tang hung from a wire, performing stunts with the villain in midair, repeating the same movements over and over again. Finally, the director called “cut,” and the stunt double came in. Xi Tang was helped down by her assistant, stripped out of her heavy costume, and wrung out the wet fabric.

After filming, her body was sticky and uncomfortable, her underwear soaked through with rainwater and sweat. Since there was no place to shower on set, she changed into new clothes, and the car took the actors back to the town.

The evening rain had stopped, and Xi Tang got out of the car at the intersection. Ah Kuan was holding her large backpack used for filming. Xi Tang lowered her head, crossing the bustling street, and turned the corner to climb up the slope where she lived.

She was still staying in the same house in Hengdian.

Xi Tang had also rented the adjacent room on the same floor. Her assistant usually stayed with her, and sometimes her mother would come over to visit.

Ah Kuan wrapped his arm around hers and suddenly said cheerfully, “Sister, look, the moon is really beautiful.”

Xi Tang looked up at the sky. The night in Hengdian was a dim deep blue, with thick clouds rolling, and in the center, a full moon appeared.

It was early autumn, and although it was night, the air was still warm. The two of them stood on the slope, gazing at the moon.

From afar, Xi Tang could still see the yellowish streetlight beside the residential buildings. In its light, insects flew around, and a row of cars was parked messily along the road beneath.

At that moment, the deepest vein in her heart suddenly gave a faint, gentle pulse.

Under the light at the sloped intersection, there had once been someone standing there waiting for her.

In her memory, sometimes that person appeared vividly. She could clearly remember what he looked like that day: tall and thin, wearing white pants, a black polo shirt, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a cigarette, frowning slightly in impatience. When he saw her walking toward him from the corner of the street, a hint of a sarcastic smile appeared on his lips.

At other times, his image would fade, and she couldn’t clearly remember his features, as if there was a layer of mist between them.

In that instant, the memory hit her like a sharp pain.

Xi Tang didn’t mind the feeling. There would never be another time for him in her life, and this slight sting was the only memory he left her.

When she had first returned to Hengdian in June, she had slept in a blurry haze and started dreaming. In the dream, she received a phone call.

Zhao Pingjin was on the other end of the line, saying, “Xi Tang, I’m sorry.”

She thought it was just a dream, and as she was about to fall back to sleep, she suddenly woke up and realized it was real.

She didn’t know when the air conditioner had stopped, and sweat soaked her body. There were still traces of tears at the corner of her eyes.

She glanced at the clock on her bedside table — it was 4:10 AM.

She couldn’t remember what else was said on the phone, only Zhao Pingjin’s apology. Xi Tang suspected that this was also part of her dream. How could someone as proud and hot-tempered as him apologize to her without reason?

The next day, Xi Tang got up and rummaged through her things, eventually finding the work notebook she had used last year on set.

She had always been the script supervisor on set, and she kept a copy of all her work notes.

She looked at the date and realized that last night was exactly the day he came to Hengdian to visit her.

A whole year had passed.

Xi Tang crouched in her rented room, staring at her phone for a long time, before finally raising her hand to delete the call log.

For the Mid-Autumn Festival, the crew had half a day off.

Xi Tang returned to Shanghai. Her mother invited Dr. Xie, who had no family to reunite with abroad, to come to their home for dinner.

Dr. Xie brought gifts.

A large bouquet of flowers for Xi Tang, a box of chocolates, and a luxury brand box for the elders.

Xi Tang’s mother opened it and found a beautiful silk scarf.

Ni Kailun also came, leaned over to look, and said with a smile, “Oh, Dr. Xie is really polite.”

Dr. Xie smiled and replied, “Thank you, Miss Ni.”

With Ni Kailun at the dinner table, there was no shortage of lively conversation. Xi Tang rarely ate more than three-quarters full. Dr. Xie voluntarily helped her mother with the dishes, but her mother sent him back to the living room.

Xi Tang politely greeted the guest, “Have you been busy recently?”

It had been a while since they last met, and Dr. Xie seemed a little shy facing her. “It’s been okay. I was asking if Miss Ni would allow me to visit the set?”

Xi Tang replied, “Sure, I can show you around Hengdian.”

Dr. Xie asked excitedly, “It won’t interfere with your work?”

Xi Tang smiled playfully, “You should ask Miss Ni.”

Ni Kailun was quick to respond, taking out her phone to make a note. “I’ll have her assistant check tomorrow to see which day her scenes are lighter.”

Xi Tang turned her head to look at Ni Kailun. “Why did you eat so many sweet and sour ribs today? Aren’t you someone who doesn’t like sweet food?”

While typing on her phone, Ni Kailun responded, “I don’t eat those to maintain my figure, but today I don’t have the time to care about it. You ate more than I did, and you’re still asking me?”

Xi Tang quickly closed her mouth.

She had been busy on set lately and hadn’t seen Ni Kailun much. Xi Tang tilted her head, looking left and right, feeling like something seemed off with her.