SY - 25

Xia Wanyue returned from the hospital with some stomach medicine for Song Zhi. After taking it for a few days, the nauseous feeling gradually disappeared.

She was warming milk in the living room, not forgetting to instruct Song Zhi, who was dawdling in the bathroom: “For the next few days, make sure you stick strictly to the diet, don’t be picky about what you eat.”

Song Zhi had a lot of bad habits, and her pickiness was even worse; there were so many things she wouldn’t eat.

Seeing no movement inside, Xia Wanyue raised her voice and repeated herself. Only then did Song Zhi reluctantly reply.

“Got it.”

She came out after washing up, wearing a soft, milky blue knitted cardigan with a daisy camisole underneath.

Her long hair was casually draped over her shoulders, with slightly curled ends, giving her a hint of lazy charm.

Xia Wanyue spread strawberry jam on a slice of bread while flipping through this week’s [Vogue].

As the most prestigious fashion magazine of the moment, appearing on its cover was a stepping stone for artists to successfully enter the fashion world.

Looking at Lin Shan Shan on the cover, Xia Wanyue’s eyes were practically bleeding with jealousy.

She wondered who this person was; half a month ago, she was a nobody, but now she was not only starring as the female lead in a major production film, but she had also almost graced the covers of all five major weekly magazines.

She even started to madly climb the ladder by using her resemblance to Song Zhi, and now there are countless promotional articles online claiming Lin Shan Shan outshines Song Zhi.

“This little white flower’s demeanor is just a pathetic imitation. She looks like she got run over, and it would probably cost three or four hundred to take a taxi from her left eye to her right eye. And she still has the nerve to post articles saying she’s prettier than you? She really doesn’t know her place.”

Xia Wanyue had been a manager for so many years, she had seen all kinds of handsome men and beautiful women.

To be honest, while Song Zhi might not have much brains, she was genuinely beautiful—glamorous but not vulgar, pure but not bland.

There were even many female celebrities in the industry secretly taking her photos to their plastic surgeons as templates.

Song Zhi casually flipped through it, her emotions largely unfazed, even appearing indifferent.

Her pink-tinged fingertips were focused on peeling the shell off the boiled egg in her hand.

“It’s not surprising that she’d do something like this.”

Xia Wanyue heard her words and felt something was off: “You two know each other?”

Song Zhi nodded: “Yeah, she almost cheated on my friend.”

Xia Wanyue seemed to smell the scent of gossip, she leaned closer: “Elaborate?”

A thousand words converged into one sentence: “A white lotus pretending to be innocent and pathetic, men are all into that, aren’t they?”

Xia Wanyue: “As the pioneering founder of the lotus world, isn’t she trying to show off her meager skills in front of Guan Gong?”

Song Zhi looked up: “Why do I feel like you’re mocking me?”

Xia Wanyue smiled: “I’m praising you.”

Song Zhi finished the small, palm-sized boiled egg in five bites. She had no good feelings for Lin Shan Shan and was even less inclined to discuss topics related to her.

So, the conversation ended there.

________________________________________

Today’s scenes were all concentrated in the daytime, and work started relatively early.

Song Zhi arrived on set at 7:30 AM.

Zhang Fanfan was yawning and applying makeup, a steaming cup of coffee on the table.

Her scenes weren’t heavy; once the red-light district shoot was done, she’d wrap up.

Seeing Song Zhi, she sighed and complained, “If I had known the filming conditions were so tough, I wouldn’t have agreed to my manager taking this drama.”

Back in the group, she was famously delicate, complaining about being tired after just half an hour in the practice room.

Song Zhi was bad at singing and dancing because she truly lacked talent in those areas, while Zhang Fanfan simply feared hardship.

This place was an old district on the verge of demolition, and the houses were rundown and had a sense of age.

The makeup room was also a temporary tent.

Those old artists loved to do things out of the ordinary, unwilling to be common.

They outwardly claimed that there was no distinction of status here, everyone was equal, so the male and female leads shared a makeup room with other main actors.

Before starring in this film, Song Zhi had admired Director Luo’s talent.

But after actually interacting with him, she felt a bit disillusioned.

Aside from his talent, he didn’t seem to possess any other admirable qualities.

He demanded strictness from others but was exceptionally lenient with himself.

He spoke of no distinction of status and equality for all, yet he found it beneath him to say more than a few words to minor artists, while he went to great lengths to flatter Jiang Yanzhou.

________________________________________

Today’s filming was about Sheng Yan’s depression worsening after being falsely accused of plagiarism, leading her to attempt suicide at home and being rescued.

Tang Bai didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone at home, so he brought her back.

Since her identity was revealed, there was no need to maintain the dignified and gentle lady image.

Of course, she’d be as seductive as possible.

Earthy eyeshadow lightly swept over her eyelids, with an upward-tilting black eyeliner at the outer corner.

Song Zhi’s eyelashes were naturally long and curled, only needing a simple curl to look more natural.

White pearlescent highlight on her undereyes, a thick layer of muted rose lipstick, and plum-colored blush, lightly swept on her cheeks with a blush brush for a translucent look.

After her makeup and hair were done, Zhang Fanfan, who had arrived before her, was still fussing over her hair: “My character is innocent and cute, why would you give me big waves? It clearly doesn’t fit the persona.”

Her character in the drama had big waves, and the makeup artist was afraid to speak up, so she could only re-do it according to her demands.

Hearing movement from Song Zhi’s side, Zhang Fanfan shifted her gaze from her phone and looked at Song Zhi, complaining, “How are you so fast? I’m still...”

She didn’t finish her sentence. After seeing Song Zhi’s face again, she froze for a full minute.

When they debuted, everyone had a persona, and Song Zhi had always followed the pitiful, innocent “little white flower” route, with her clothing and styling designed to match this pure image.

This was the first time Zhang Fanfan had seen her in such a seductive and glamorous look.

Yet, it didn’t feel strange; it was as if she was born with an enchanting aura, capable of making half your body go numb with just a glance.

Song Zhi had a jacket draped over her shoulders. She picked up the water glass from the table, roughly glanced at Zhang Fanfan’s makeup, and concisely offered her critique: “Curly hair still suits you better.”

The door opened and closed. It wasn’t until Song Zhi had left the makeup room that Zhang Fanfan gradually recovered from her awe.

She had never felt that she was inferior to Song Zhi, and even playing a supporting role for her this time, she only thought it was because she didn’t fit the character’s persona.

But just now, she had to admit that she was indeed stunned by Song Zhi.

She had read the script beforehand. The character of Sheng Yan was difficult to play, pure yet alluring, with a hint of classical beauty and charm.

The balance was incredibly hard to grasp, and even award-winning actresses might not be able to portray Sheng Yan as Director Luo envisioned her.

Zhang Fanfan naturally assumed that Song Zhi, a mere “flower vase,” would certainly be incapable of it.

But...

For a moment, she suddenly felt as if she had seen Sheng Yan herself.

To prevent her makeup from smudging, Song Zhi drank water with a straw. Xiao Xu, who hadn’t eaten, came over and was getting lunch boxes nearby.

Seeing Song Zhi, his eyes lit up: “Sister Song Zhi, you look absolutely stunning today.”

Song Zhi sat down on the resting chair: “Was I not good-looking yesterday?”

Xiao Xu quickly grabbed a jacket and covered her legs: “You look beautiful every day, but today you’re exceptionally beautiful.”

Flattery was a trick Xiao Xu was accustomed to.

Song Zhi yawned, still terribly sleepy.

She had woken up at six today, not even getting five hours of sleep.

To dispel her drowsiness, she held the script and memorized lines for a while. Ji Song also came out of the makeup room soon. Male makeup and hair were simple, and since Tang Bai’s character was a clean and fresh student, they only needed to deepen his contours to compensate for the lighting that could wash out features.

With both main actors out, Director Luo came over with the script to brief them on the scene.

The first part was Sheng Yan smoking and being seen by Tang Bai.

It was a scene that didn’t require much time to shoot, but it ran into a bottleneck because Song Zhi couldn’t smoke.

To help her adapt, the props team prepared relatively milder women’s cigarettes.

Song Zhi tried to take a puff, and her throat felt like it was being strangled, a breath suspended, neither going up nor down.

Then she choked.

Xiao Xu quickly brought water.

After drinking water, it took her a while to recover.

She increasingly couldn’t understand why anyone would have a smoking addiction.

She suddenly began to admire Jiang Yanzhou.

Director Luo, a chain smoker of decades, personally came over to teach her smoking techniques: “You don’t have to actually inhale, or swallow it. Just hold it in your mouth, and when it’s time, exhale the smoke.”

Song Zhi tried it as he said, and although it was still a bit choking, she could barely tolerate it.

What should have been a half-hour shoot was prolonged because Song Zhi couldn’t smoke.

Thankfully, it was completed successfully.

During the break, Zhang Fanfan said she wanted to look around nearby. The weather was nice today, and the scenery was quite good, so Zhang Fanfan wanted to find a pretty background for a Weibo post.

“Since we’re making a movie together, we should at least post something on Weibo to show some fake sisterly love, right? Otherwise, those busybody netizens will get all worked up and say we’re plastic sisters.”

Although the group had disbanded, where there were women, there was war. The outside world had various speculations about their relationship.

Some even said that the reason they broke up was because a member slept with another member’s boyfriend, got caught, and then had a falling out, refusing to work together, which forced the company to let them go solo.

Song Zhi smiled: “We are plastic sisters anyway.”

This wasn’t false; if it weren’t for this drama bringing them together again, Zhang Fanfan wouldn’t have thought of seeing Song Zhi.

“I don’t want to be gossiped about because of baseless rumors. It’s just a photo, no harm done.” Saying that, Zhang Fanfan took out her phone. “And you’re the female lead now, I need to seize this opportunity to hype up our sisterhood and ride the wave of popularity.”

She had always been direct, not hiding anything. Although she had a bit of a spoiled princess temper, Song Zhi’s impression of her wasn’t bad.

Zhang Fanfan raised her phone, found a good angle, and stood next to Song Zhi.

Click, she took a photo.

She put her hand down, casually edited it, composed the Weibo post, and sent it.

[Zhang Fanfan: A day with Xiao Zhi, happy :P]

Below was their joint photo, both smiling brightly and sweetly, like two close sisters.

Soon, the comments section was bustling.

[Grandma, the CP you ship is finally active!]

[I knew seeing a magpie today meant something good would happen, ahhhhh my food-delivery CP!!!]

[The most regrettable pair, they’re actually starting to be active again? My youth is back!]

[Are you filming a new drama? Fan-mei’er, take care of your body, and remember to take good care of my Zhizhi, tell her to wear more clothes so she doesn’t catch a cold, otherwise Mommy will feel bad.]

Zhang Fanfan scrolled through the comments, shaking her head and tsk-tsking: “Looks like your ‘brainless’ persona is quite successful.”

Each member of the girl group had a persona, and Song Zhi’s was the naive, innocent, and childlike one when she debuted.

Almost all her female fans were “mommy fans.”

After their “business” was done, the two were just about to return to the set when they encountered security personnel clearing the way ahead.

Looking at this entourage, it had to be at least an A-list celebrity.

Song Zhi and Zhang Fanfan both stopped in unison, wanting to see which big star it was.

The person’s assistant held an umbrella to shield her from the sun.

As they got closer, the rim of the umbrella lifted slightly, and Song Zhi finally saw the face beneath the umbrella.

That familiar little white flower aura.

It was indeed Lin Shan Shan.

Zhang Fanfan snorted, “Oh, I thought it was someone important. Turns out it’s the white lotus who snatches roles through unspoken rules.”

Song Zhi was a bit surprised: “I didn’t realize you were so keen on fighting injustice.”

Zhang Fanfan was so angry her teeth were practically grinding: “Because the one whose role was snatched was me.”

When she received the news of being replaced backstage at [Tonight’s Big Guest], she was so furious that she walked out of the show and went to the director to make a scene.

The other party explained that he had no choice; the investors had pushed someone in, and if they didn’t replace her, they would withdraw their investment.

She had to swallow this injustice, and she held a grudge.

Lin Shan Shan saw them and stopped to greet them: “Hello, seniors.”

Her voice was timid and shy.

Song Zhi and Zhang Fanfan were the same age, and Lin Shan Shan was three years older than them. However, her Baidu Baike profile had been changed a few days ago, reducing her age by four years, probably to gain an advantage in age when the public compared her to Song Zhi.

Zhang Fanfan scoffed: “You changed your age on Baike, do you really think you’re twenty-one?”

There were other people around, and Lin Shan Shan’s career had just started to pick up. She didn’t want news of her persona collapsing and her arguing with someone to appear the next day.

She calmly apologized to them: “Although I don’t know why you two seniors dislike me so much, I will try my best to avoid appearing in front of you seniors in the future and interrupting your enjoyment of taking pictures. I am truly sorry.”

This tactic of feigned retreat not only created an image of patient suffering for herself but also dragged in Song Zhi, who hadn’t said a word.

Song Zhi found this little white lotus increasingly interesting.

Not only did she try to steal her friend’s boyfriend, but she also copied her dressing style, even mimicking the idiotic personas she had established when she first debuted, and constantly publishing large-scale promotional articles claiming to outshine her.

Song Zhi leaned close to her ear, softly chuckling as she spoke, “If you’re going to imitate, do it completely. Sister, I never wear out-of-season dresses, and it’s even less likely I’d wear fake diamonds on my hand.”

The perfume Lin Shan Shan was wearing was the same brand Song Zhi endorsed, but Song Zhi herself never used it.

It was too strong, and smelled a bit pungent.

Her skincare products and perfumes were blended by professionals according to her skin type and natural body scent.

Unique and one-of-a-kind, Lin Shan Shan couldn’t find them to imitate even if she wanted to.

After they left, Zhang Fanfan asked Song Zhi curiously, “What did you say to her just now? Why did her face look so awful?”

Song Zhi casually replied, “Just gave her some kind advice.”

Zhang Fanfan said “Oh” then was a little confused: “Didn’t they say this location was borrowed by Director Luo using his connections? How did that white lotus’s crew also get here?”

The drama she was filming was invested by Shenhuan. The circulating rumor in the industry was that Shenhuan’s CEO poured 50 million to promote Lin Shan Shan.

This plot of land was also recently bought by Shenhuan at an auction, so the fact that Lin Shan Shan’s crew could appear here seemed to explain the situation sufficiently.

Zhang Fanfan tsk-tsked, sighing, “I can’t believe this white lotus is so damn cunning, she even managed to get a big shot like the CEO of Shenhuan.”

She thought of how Director Luo had flattered Jiang Yanzhou in the private room to borrow this place, even going so far as to make Song Zhi accompany him for drinks.

This copycat actually got in so easily.

Song Zhi took several deep breaths, trying hard to convince herself not to get angry. Don’t be angry when others are, getting sick won’t help.

She had already broken up with that scoundrel, so it wasn’t worth ruining her health over him.

According to the crew members, the adjacent set just joined today and wouldn’t be staying long since there were few scenes in the old district.

After work ended, the first thing Song Zhi did was go back to the hotel to shower.

She had a terrible smell of smoke on her from filming the smoking scene today.

After showering for an hour, she finally thoroughly washed away the smell and became fragrant again. She then came out of the bathroom in her pajamas. The screen of her phone on the table was flashing on and off.

She walked over, picked it up, and saw that Xia Wanyue had sent her several messages.

[Xia Wanyue: Is that little b*tch Lin Shan Shan also filming over there with you?]

[Xia Wanyue: That shameless b*tch, she even used the leaked photos.]

[Xia Wanyue: There are tons of promotional articles online now. I’ll send you the link, go see for yourself. I’m so pissed off right now.]

Below was a web link.

Song Zhi clicked it, and the title was prominent.

#SongZhiSmokingImageCollapse,InferiorToNewcomerLinShanShan#Recently, [The Painting] directed by Luo Feng and [The Mist] directed by Xu Zhi began filming in Quyu Street. Netizens captured leaked photos showing Song Zhi smoking with her head down, an image completely contradicting her previous pure persona. Lin Shan Shan, just a street away, appeared in a white dress, pure and lovely, with a delicate and pitiful appearance. It was previously speculated that the rising star Lin Shan Shan would replace senior Song Zhi as the new otaku goddess.

This promotional article not only disparaged Song Zhi, but the words “senior,” “newcomer,” and “rising star” in the lines seemed to emphasize that Lin Shan Shan was younger than her.

It seemed she was indeed particularly concerned about her age; changing it wasn’t enough, she had to repeatedly mention it.

Below the Weibo post were two animated GIFs.

The first was Lin Shan Shan, wearing a white dress, standing by the river, with a side braid and a floral hair tie.

She had the typical “little white flower” appearance, with a somewhat similar aura to Song Zhi. Plus, the leaked photo’s pixel quality was low and a bit blurry, so Song Zhi herself had trouble distinguishing whether it was her or Lin Shan Shan.

The second GIF was of Song Zhi smoking.

She was enchantingly beautiful, standing by a somewhat dilapidated railing, the surrounding buildings exuding a dreary sense of decay.

She wore a vintage backless red slip dress. As she lowered her gaze and turned, her exquisite collarbones and butterfly bones looked as if they were meticulously sculpted by the finest artisans in the world.

Her porcelain-white skin was made even more striking by the red dress, and a white pearl belt adorned her waist, slender enough to be grasped with one hand.

She held a cigarette, exhaling a plume of bluish-gray smoke, her lips slightly curled, her eyes and brows alluring.

Like the only blooming rose in a withered garden.

She certainly didn’t possess any of her usual purity.

Messages from Xia Wanyue kept popping up at the top of her phone.

[Xia Wanyue: Hahahahahahahaha I’m seriously dying of laughter.]

[Xia Wanyue: The comments are surprisingly all praising you.]

[Xia Wanyue: This is the first time I’ve ever seen the comments section completely one-sided in your favor since I started managing you.]

Song Zhi didn’t usually read comments; she knew they were mostly insults, and reading them would only make her feel bad.

But hearing Xia Wanyue say that, she was a bit curious.

With a light tap of her finger, she entered the comment section and quickly scanned through them. Indeed, they were all praising her.

[Rich sister’s acting skills are obvious to all, but U1S1, just based on this GIF, I take back my previous statement that if rich sister plays Sheng Yan, I’ll be her hater for life. She’s seriously too damn good!]

[Director Luo has fostered so many famous actors, why would anyone question his casting judgment?]

[Rich sister is too, too, too beautiful, damn it!!!!!!!! So alluring and sexy, sister, stop smoking, smoke me instead.]

[When will Lin Shan Shan learn to walk independently? She finally found a backer and just got a name in the entertainment industry, why is she so eager to cause trouble? It’s only been a few days, how many promotional articles has she posted? And replacing Song Zhi as the otaku goddess? I’m really begging you, have some personal style, okay? If the title hadn’t said they were two different people, just by looking at the GIFs, I would have thought both were Song Zhi.]

[Rich sister’s pure “little white flower” persona works because she genuinely fits that aura. Ms. Lin Shan Shan, do you have a problem? If you came from the boondocks, don’t try to imitate others. You’re completely tacky.]

[Even Song Zhi is starting to transform and challenge roles she’s never attempted, while some people are still picking up scraps others have spit out. Tsk tsk tsk.]

Not only was Xia Wanyue seeing comments that were overwhelmingly praising Song Zhi for the first time, but Song Zhi herself was also seeing it for the first time.

She had only read a few comments when the interface jumped directly to an incoming call.

[Money Bags]

Looking at the contact name, Song Zhi frowned.

She had forgotten to unblock Jiang Yanzhou after calling him last time.

She pressed connect, her tone not good: “What do you want?”

It was very quiet on his end, likely in his study.

His voice was low and deep: “You smoked?”

It seemed he had also seen that Weibo post. The usually work-obsessed old fuddy-duddy, who had no interest in entertainment, was now uncharacteristically reading entertainment news.

Song Zhi sneered: “None of your business.”

With that, she admitted it.

Jiang Yanzhou suppressed his emotions and said earnestly, “You’re pregnant, you can’t smoke. If it’s for filming, I’ll ask the director to make appropriate changes.”

Song Zhi narrowed her eyes in confusion, thinking she had misheard: “Who? Who’s pregnant?”