Until he returned to his hotel room, Zhu Huai was still somewhat dazed.

He stared unblinkingly at the newly added friend.

Jiang Sheli’s avatar was a smiling cat. It was hard to imagine that someone as aloof as him would actually use such a soft and adorable avatar.

Had he really… added Jiang Sheli as a friend??

Fuck.

He really had added Jiang Sheli!!

Zhu Huai looked at that smiling cat over and over again several times. After quite a while, he finally cautiously sent a message.

It’s Zhu, Not Pig: Meow?

(NT: Zhù (祝) is the MC’s surname and also means “to bless” or “to wish [someone well]”; it sounds very similar to zhū (猪), meaning “pig.”)

Jiang Sheli came out after taking a shower. The air conditioning in the room was turned up high, and he was wearing only a bath towel around his waist, revealing his lean, muscular upper body and abdominal muscles. His years of constant training had not made his muscles look bulky or intimidating; instead, their lines were exceptionally refined and smooth, and as he rubbed his hair dry, his every movement seemed to radiate an abundance of masculine allure.

A magazine had once invited him to do a series of photos with a male-beauty theme. In several of the pictures, his upper body was exposed, or his shirt was left partially open. That issue of the magazine sold out completely, and they later printed another thirty thousand or so copies, not a single one of which remained unsold. In an era when print media was in decline, it had created something of a legend.

Jiang Sheli himself had not thought much of it. It was just work. But the magazine’s owner had been moved to tears and insisted on taking Jiang Sheli out for a meal.

The phone on the bedside table vibrated once, and he casually picked it up.

[The other party withdrew a message.]

It’s Zhu, Not Pig: Sorry, I sent that by mistake!

JSL: Haven’t gone to sleep yet?

The moment Zhu Huai received Jiang Sheli’s reply, he was so startled that he almost sent his phone flying in a parabolic arc.

After sending that first message, he had suddenly come to his senses and hurriedly withdrawn it. He had just finished sending “I sent that by mistake” when Jiang Sheli replied. He had no idea whether Jiang Sheli had seen the first message or not.

Zhu Huai felt somewhat guilty.

It’s Zhu, Not Pig: I can’t sleep. I’m reading the script.

JSL: Which scene are you reading?

It’s Zhu, Not Pig: Jiang-ge, aren’t you going to sleep yet?

JSL: In a little while. I’ll go over some lines with you.

I’ll go to sleep in a little while.

It’s nothing. I just happen to be able to go over the lines with you.

That was what he really meant. He wasn’t deliberately staying up to accompany him.

Got it!

Zhu Huai pointed his phone at the open script, took a picture, and sent it over.

The script was densely covered with notes. It was obvious that Zhu Huai had put considerable effort into studying his character, but he had not received any formal acting training and had no foundation in acting. No matter how seriously he approached it, he still could not grasp the essentials.

Jiang Sheli initiated a voice call.

Zhu Huai was stunned for several seconds before realizing what was happening, then hurriedly pressed the answer button.

«Jiang… ge?»

«Mm.» A concise male voice came through the receiver. «Read the lines.»

Zhu Huai realized that when it came to work, Jiang Sheli really did keep things as brief as possible and never wasted words.

In this scene, the Third Prince asked Wan Gui to deliver a secret letter to the Ninth Prince, specifically instructing him that if the Ninth Prince was not in his study, he should simply leave it on the desk.

Wan Gui was not a fool. If it really were a secret letter, why would the Third Prince entrust him with delivering it? So he straightforwardly declined.

Zhu Huai lowered his head and looked at the script, reciting each word stiffly and mechanically: «Third Prince, I am merely an insignificant ant by the Ninth Prince’s side. His study is not somewhere I am permitted to set foot in. It would be better for the Third Prince to deliver it directly into the Ninth Prince’s hands.»

Jiang Sheli’s voice, devoid of emotion, sounded through the phone. «What do you think?»

Even though Jiang Sheli could not see him, shame still appeared on Zhu Huai’s face. «N-no, it wasn’t very good.»

«It was very bad.» Jiang Sheli did not soften his words at all. «Even when reciting from a textbook, you pay attention to intonation and cadence. Do you know how to read a textbook?»

Zhu Huai became even more embarrassed, and even his breathing grew lighter.

«Third Prince.» Jiang Sheli’s voice came through the call, three parts smiling and seven parts troubled, his tone low as he said, «I am merely an insignificant ant by the Ninth Prince’s side. His study is not somewhere I am permitted to set foot in…»

His tone suddenly changed. Carefully yet resolutely, he said, «It would be better for the Third Prince to deliver it directly into the Ninth Prince’s hands.»

Zhu Huai’s hand tightened abruptly around his phone.

The cold and distant Jiang Sheli had disappeared. The person speaking to him was Wan Gui, cautious and timid at the Ninth Prince’s side, with only the Ninth Prince in his heart. Because he cared only about the Ninth Prince, he would never allow anything that might possibly harm him, even in the slightest, to happen.

«Your turn.» Jiang Sheli’s tone returned to normal.

Zhu Huai jolted, replayed Jiang Sheli’s tone from moments before in his mind, then repeated the lines. Afterward, he waited cautiously for Jiang Sheli’s evaluation.

«You…» Jiang Sheli seemed to be choosing his words carefully. As Zhu Huai waited for what he would say next, it felt as though a sword were hanging over his head.

«The feeling is coming through. You have some talent, but unfortunately, you haven’t worked hard enough. You haven’t carefully considered how to immerse yourself in the character.»

Zhu Huai understood. Acting depended on both talent and hard work. Acting was not a profession that everyone could make a living from, and geniuses like Jiang Sheli were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.

He did not have enough talent, so he could only make up for it through hard work.

Jiang Sheli asked, «Who am I?»

What direction was this taking?

Zhu Huai asked doubtfully, «Jiang Sheli?»

Jiang Sheli said, «I am the Ninth Prince now.»

Zhu Huai: «…»

On the other end of the phone, Jiang Sheli continued, «And you are Wan Gui, not an audience member. You love me, respect me, and devote yourself to me wholeheartedly because you want to, not because you are required to act that way. Don’t restrain yourself so much. Don’t be afraid of breaking character. You are not the idol Zhu Huai. You are my Wan Gui.»

You are my Wan Gui.

Zhu Huai’s face instantly flushed.

He suspected that the Film Emperor was flirting with him, but he had no evidence.

Zhu Huai coughed awkwardly and tried, «Then shall I try again?»

«Mm.»

Zhu Huai tried his best to immerse himself in the role. He became Wan Gui, with only his Ninth Prince in his heart and eyes. Humble and insignificant, he had given all his courage to the prince.

He recited the lines again.

After he finished, there was silence on the call for several seconds.

Zhu Huai was a little nervous and could not help asking, «How was it?»

Jiang Sheli let out a soft laugh. His voice came through the receiver, low and deep, inexplicably making the tips of one’s heart tingle. He simply praised him, «Much better.»

Zhu Huai smiled along with him, his back relaxing. His tone also became languid as he said, «Jiang-ge.»

«Mm.»

Zhu Huai lay sprawled on the hotel’s pristine white bed, hugging a soft pillow, and asked, «Why did you come to the stairwell tonight?»

«I was passing by. I heard a noise in the stairwell, so I went over to take a look.» Jiang Sheli’s tone remained as usual. Then, as though he had remembered something, he added, «Luckily, I came.»

Zhu Huai paused.

Jiang Sheli had been far too good to him. The Film Emperor, who had won countless major awards both domestically and internationally, had personally taught this newcomer how to act, not to mention repeatedly extending a helping hand to him—the ginger soup, the makeup artist, and now this latest intervention.

Unable to hold back any longer, he asked the question that had been hidden in his heart for a long time: «Why are you so good to me?»

The question sounded somewhat self-important, but he was not foolish enough to think that the Film Emperor had fallen for him.

A rustling sound came from the other end, seemingly the sound of fabric rubbing against fabric, as though Jiang Sheli were changing clothes.

Jiang Sheli’s voice followed. «To make up for it, I suppose. I’m sorry that I didn’t do anything to stand up for you back then.»

Zhu Huai was startled. He had not expected that to be the reason. He shook his head so vigorously it nearly seemed ready to fly off, then remembered that Jiang Sheli could not see him and hurriedly said, «It wasn’t your fault! How could there be no fan wars in this industry? My fans even said nasty things to you. I should be apologizing too.»

«It’s different.»

«How is it different?»

What’s the difference between you being insulted and me being insulted?

«You had it worse.»

Zhu Huai: «…»

So being the weaker one means I’m automatically in the right?

«I don’t think that’s a reason!» Zhu Huai said seriously. «You absolutely don’t need to feel guilty because of what the fans did. If you’re treating me well because of that, I feel undeserving of it, especially since you yourself did nothing wrong.»

Finally, Zhu Huai emphasized above all else, «You absolutely don’t need to take any responsibility for this!»

Jiang Sheli said, «Don’t be silly.»

Zhu Huai: «…………»

I’m doomed.

Film Emperor Jiang, I’m begging you, please stop casually radiating that damn charm of yours. I’m just an ordinary mortal; I can’t withstand it!

Flirting without even realizing it is the deadliest kind.

The Film Emperor was far too dangerous tonight. Zhu Huai felt like he was about to start acting crazy again.

In the end, he sighed and asked cautiously and nervously, «Jiang-ge, can I learn acting from you?»

Jiang Sheli did not immediately agree. Instead, he asked, «Do you like acting?»

«I don’t know.» Zhu Huai answered honestly, «You know my situation. Acting is a path I have no choice but to take. It’s how I make a living.»

He did not know what Jiang Sheli thought after hearing those words, but he did not want to lie to him or fabricate some passionate, inspirational dream.

«Then do you like being an idol?»

Zhu Huai thought about it carefully. Although those two years at his peak had been exhausting and extremely stressful, every time he stood on stage singing and dancing, he had been genuinely happy. It had seemed as though he possessed an inexhaustible passion.

«I do. I like being on stage.»

Only then did Jiang Sheli answer his request: «All right. You can start learning for now.»

The two chatted intermittently for more than half an hour. In the end, Jiang Sheli was the one who mentioned that he had scenes early the next morning, and they finally ended the call.

Looking at the nearly hour-long call duration displayed on his phone, Zhu Huai felt rather reluctant for it to end.

*

Filming proceeded at a steady, unhurried pace. Whenever Zhu Huai had no scenes, he watched the filming from the side, keeping a small notebook in his hand and writing down anything he found particularly impressive.

The scene Jiang Sheli had personally taught him required only one NG (NT: No Good, an unsuccessful take that has to be filmed again). The reason was that after Zhu Huai finished his lines, Liu Qi had actually frozen and failed to deliver his response.

The second take went perfectly in one go. Even Shen Peiping gave Zhu Huai an approving look and said, «Not bad. You’ve improved.»

Zhu Huai was delighted for the entire day, until that evening, when several people approached him while he was memorizing his lines in a corner.

It was the male actor who had mocked him at the dinner that night, along with several extras. The group stood right beside him.

One of the extras was chatting with the male actor. «…It’s on the hot search. Brother Qi is the first one in ages. Amazing!»

The male actor kept his eyes straight ahead, but deliberately raised his voice considerably. «Brother Qi is talented and hardworking. Of course he’d earn Jiang-ge’s recognition. Even if some people glue their eyes to the Film Emperor, it won’t do them any good.»

Weibo? Liu Qi?

Zhu Huai glanced at the extra who had spoken in confusion. The male actor happened to look over at the same time, and their eyes met.

The other man’s eyes were openly filled with smugness and disdain, and his chin was raised high.

Right in front of them, Zhu Huai calmly took out his phone, opened Weibo, and saw the fourth hot-search entry—

#JiangSheliFollowsLiuQi# [Hot]

Zhu Huai clicked on it and read for a while before understanding what had happened.

Jiang Sheli had always managed his own Weibo account. Apart from close business partners and friends, he generally did not follow other people. In previous years, he had still followed some actors from the same productions, but ever since establishing his own studio, he had rarely followed newcomers. In the past two years, with disposable, quickly manufactured celebrities dominating the industry, not a single one had caught his eye.

According to statistics, Liu Qi was the first newcomer in recent years whom Jiang Sheli had chosen to follow.

In the comments, Liu Qi’s fans were celebrating as though it were New Year’s Day: «Gege is amazing! True gold shines wherever it goes!» «Thank you, Film Emperor Jiang, for recognizing him! Liu Qi will definitely keep working hard!» «Liu Qi and Jiang Sheli’s new production, “The Unfaithful Minister”, is currently filming. Please look forward to it!»

Some people simply could not resist stirring up trouble and dragged several SYA members into the discussion to take a look at the situation. Fans immediately whisked the other members away, telling people not to involve them, but Zhu Huai received the full force of it—all of it was hate.

Zhu Huai scrolled through the comments for a while, then exited. He watched the hot search change from [Hot] to [Boiling], before climbing all the way to first place.

Although comments on Weibo had never been particularly friendly toward him, Zhu Huai still often came on to take a look. Jiang Sheli, meanwhile, had been in his following list for a long time.

He opened Jiang Sheli’s Weibo account. The symbol in the lower-left corner still said “Following.”

There were no two-way arrows.

Zhu Huai stared at it for a long while before turning off his phone.

He no longer felt like memorizing his lines either. Ignoring the male actor’s sarcastic remarks beside him, he turned around, left the production site, and returned to the hotel.

As soon as he reached the hotel lobby, his phone began vibrating frantically. It was Xiao Nan.

The moment he answered, Xiao Nan’s roar, loud enough to tear the phone apart, came through—

«Ge!»

«You’re on the hot search!»

Zhu Huai, who had closed Weibo less than ten minutes earlier: «?»

«Are you sure it’s me?»

«Film Emperor Jiang followed you!»

«?!»

«He even liked your Weibo post!!»

«?!!»

«And he commented on it!!»

«?!!!»

 

Translator : DarNan