Chapter 148: One Hundred Accounts

“Let’s not talk about that. Thank you for what you did yesterday. Oh, by the way, I brought you a little gift.”

Li Wei shook her head, pushing aside the things that made her heart ache. She took out a beautifully packaged box from her bag and handed it to Jiang Xiaobai. The label was in French. “This is a perfume my good friend bought from France. It’s not available to the public—only for the brand’s top VIP clients, and even then, it’s limited. She managed to get just one, so she gave it to me. I’m passing it on to you.”

“…Then I’ll accept it. Thank you.”

Jiang Xiaobai didn’t refuse. If she didn’t take it, Li Wei might always feel like she owed her something.

It was better to clear things up so both of them could feel at ease.

After the late-night snack, Jiang Xiaobai had Uncle Li drive Li Wei home first before returning to Liyuan.

Jiang Xiaobai spent three days at home, mostly staying by her mother’s side. Sometimes she helped with cooking, preparing a dish for her parents herself. Such a simple gesture could make them happy for hours.

Jiang Xiaobai wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she felt like her parents’ attitude toward her had softened a little.

This made her heart flutter, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeful.

Friday arrived quickly. The next day was the scheduled meeting with Yang Dan. Her break was over, and she had other work to attend to, so Jiang Xiaobai bid her family farewell and returned to City B alone.

“Xiaobai, there’s something I want to tell you.”

After Jiang Xiaobai got home, Ming Zhu finished unpacking her luggage and hesitantly approached her.

“…What’s wrong?”

Jiang Xiaobai asked cautiously.

“No, no, it’s nothing bad. It’s just that Mianmian, the leader of our fan club, really likes you. She’s one of your earliest fans, and she wants one of your drawings. I was wondering if that’s possible.”

Ming Zhu quickly explained, “She used nearly a hundred accounts to retweet and comment for the giveaway, but unfortunately, she didn’t win. I saw how upset she was in the group chat, so I thought maybe we could give her a little special treat.”

By the end, Ming Zhu was smiling sheepishly.

“A hundred accounts?” Jiang Xiaobai was stunned.

She understood having a few alternate accounts, but a hundred? What was that about?

“Some were her own accounts, some were her friends’, and some she bought,” Ming Zhu explained, counting on her fingers. “So in total, it’s about a hundred.”

Jiang Xiaobai was speechless.

“It’s just a drawing. Was all that really necessary…”

She didn’t quite understand.

Sure, her drawings were decent, but they couldn’t compare to those of professional artists. With that much effort, she could’ve just bought a painting, right?

“Xiaobai, you don’t get it. You’re their idol. Anything you create is special to them. And it’s not just her—did you even look at the comments? A lot of people were disappointed they didn’t win.”

When Ming Zhu said “you don’t get it,” she glanced at Jiang Xiaobai, her expression carrying a hint of… disdain? That would’ve been unthinkable before. In the past, Ming Zhu had only been afraid of Jiang Xiaobai, but as they spent more time together, she had become more open and relaxed, and her attitude had grown more casual.

Jiang Xiaobai hadn’t really paid much attention to the comments. She’d only skimmed them after posting and hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

Prompted by Ming Zhu, Jiang Xiaobai took out her phone and opened Weibo.

Since the giveaway required followers to retweet and comment, many non-fans had flocked to the post hoping for a free prize. After the results were announced, they unfollowed.

Jiang Xiaobai was surprised to see that her follower count was now close to 11 million!

Wait, wasn’t it just 10 million when she posted the giveaway? She hadn’t had much exposure recently. When did gaining 100,000 followers become so easy?

Jiang Xiaobai voiced her confusion, and Ming Zhu quickly explained.

“The company bought some heat for your post. It didn’t make it to the top of the trending list, but it did reach the top ten in the news section, so it attracted a lot of new followers… But Xiaobai, that video was amazing. It was well-shot, the drawing was great, and the atmosphere was so peaceful. A lot of girls said it’s the kind of lifestyle they dream of.”

Jiang Xiaobai was momentarily stunned by the first part of Ming Zhu’s explanation, then couldn’t help but smile.

It was common for companies to buy trending spots for their artists. In fact, most of the topics on the trending list were there because of paid promotions.

But not every artist got this treatment—otherwise, the staff would be overwhelmed.

Resources were limited, so they had to be allocated strategically. That’s why there was so much competition among artists.

The fact that the company had bought heat for Jiang Xiaobai’s post meant that someone had recognized her potential and wanted to give her a push.

That’s how things worked. In the past, Jiang Xiaobai hadn’t been a good fit for the industry, and the company had treated her as a lost cause. But now that she was showing her value, they were taking the initiative to promote her without her even asking.

And this was just the beginning. If Jiang Xiaobai continued to perform well, the promotional efforts would only intensify. Right now, they’d only gotten her into the top ten of the news section, but in the future, she might make it to the top five, or even the top three, and stay there for a long time.

Jiang Xiaobai opened the post and started reading the comments.

“Ahhh—why only two winners? Why wasn’t it me? I really wanted it! Waaah!”

“I really want Xiaobai’s drawing. If I got it, I’d frame it and hang it on my wall!”

“The video was so beautiful. I watched it three times, but I still want the prize, boohoo.”

Since non-fans had unfollowed after losing, most of the commenters were likely genuine fans.

Jiang Xiaobai scrolled through the comments, then asked Ming Zhu, “Zhu Zhu, what are some common struggles young people face? For example, if you could change something about yourself, what would it be?”

“There are so many. Like, I want to be rich, I want to be pretty, I want a good figure, I want to be taller, I want to be talented, I want to live comfortably without working…”

Ming Zhu rattled off a list without hesitation.

Jiang Xiaobai looked at her in surprise. “I didn’t know you were like this, Zhu Zhu.”

Ming Zhu blushed, realizing what she’d just said.

“Zhu Zhu, I need to ask you for another favor. Do you remember the jade beads we bought last time? I need some more…” Jiang Xiaobai explained the specifications she needed for the beads. “Also, get some bracelets. The material doesn’t matter, but they should be unisex.”

Ming Zhu had one particularly good trait: she was highly efficient and executed tasks without question.

After Jiang Xiaobai finished speaking, Ming Zhu didn’t even ask why she needed these things. She just nodded and agreed.

 

Chapter 149: Giving Back to Fans

“As for the fan club… here’s what we’ll do. Tell Mianmian to pick three of the most loyal fans, making four in total including herself. I’ll prepare special gifts for them—they can choose between a drawing or a new gift. Once they’ve decided, compile the list and give it to me.”

Jiang Xiaobai added.

“That’s amazing! But what’s the new gift?” Ming Zhu asked. “Is it the jade bead bracelet?”

“Yes, it’s a hand-braided bead bracelet I made myself.”

“Got it. I’ll get right on it.”

Ming Zhu left to handle the task.

Jiang Xiaobai planned to use jade beads or jade pendants more often for gifts in the future, while reducing the number of talismans she made. The former were aesthetically pleasing and socially acceptable, while the latter… made her seem like a “mystic” in the entertainment industry.

She had no intention of becoming the “Great Immortal of Showbiz.”

Ming Zhu returned an hour later with 20 jade beads, all similar in size and color, each costing a few hundred yuan. She also bought red cords, simple and versatile.

“Xiaobai, Mianmian and the other three have made their choices. Two want drawings, and two want bracelets. They’ve already sent me their addresses.”

Ming Zhu forwarded two photos to Jiang Xiaobai’s phone.

Both photos were portraits of young people in their early twenties, one male and one female.

The boy had a radiant smile, his eyes sparkling like stars. He stood under an orange tree, holding several oranges in his arms, with a few scattered on the ground.

The girl had a long ponytail and was wearing a basketball jersey. She was spinning a basketball on one finger on a school court, her movements incredibly cool.

According to Ming Zhu, the boy was the vice-leader of the fan club—nicknamed “Juzi.”

The girl was a highly active and loyal fan in the group.

Mianmian, who had initially wanted a photo, changed her mind after learning she could choose a gift. She opted for a hand-braided bracelet instead of a drawing, as did the other male fan.

Jiang Xiaobai returned to her room and got to work. Afterward, she called Dong Ran to inform her of her plans and then started drafting a Weibo post:

[Jiang Xiaobai Not So White v: Ta-da! I heard many of you felt the last giveaway was too small and hard to win? Well, here’s a new one! The first five friends to comment on this post + the five comments with the most likes within the first hour will receive a hand-braided jade bead bracelet from me! These bracelets are imbued with my special energy—wearing one will calm your mind and help you sleep peacefully. Yes, I have superpowers. Call me your little fairy!]

Jiang Xiaobai spent a long time crafting the message before deciding to post it.

The jade bead bracelets were engraved with a calming talisman array, which would help the wearer stay serene and less prone to anger. Placing it nearby while sleeping would also help them fall asleep quickly and stay asleep without waking up unexpectedly.

The effect wasn’t miraculous, but it was noticeable enough to make a difference. Since it wouldn’t cause any trouble, Jiang Xiaobai didn’t bother invoking her “family elder” this time. Instead, she playfully presented herself as a fairy bestowing gifts.

The post included a photo of Jiang Xiaobai wearing a red bracelet with a vibrant green jade bead. Her fair skin made the red and green combination look stunning, defying the usual “red and green = fashion disaster” stereotype.

Even those who weren’t initially interested in the bracelets were intrigued after seeing the photo and quickly left comments, often adding, “Please boost me to the top!”

The first five spots were already taken, but the top five likes were still up for grabs.

After posting, Jiang Xiaobai continued engraving talisman beads.

These beads required minimal spiritual energy, so she could easily make 20 in a day.

This time, she focused on calming talisman beads. She needed 12 in total—10 for the Weibo giveaway and two for the fan club members.

She had already made one for the photo and had 11 left to complete.

Jiang Xiaobai carefully engraved the talisman patterns onto the beads. Even with the faint spiritual energy, the jade beads took on a luminous, almost translucent quality, as if their value had increased by a grade.

What were originally a few hundred yuan beads now looked like they were worth four figures.

Jiang Xiaobai knew her free time was limited. As an artist, her schedule could become hectic at any moment, leaving her with little control over her time. So, she wanted to finish all her tasks while she still could.

After completing the talisman beads, she braided the red cords and then worked on the two portraits. By the time she finished, it was already dark.

The Weibo giveaway had ended, and Ming Zhu had taken care of the rest.

She had already posted screenshots of the ten winners and announced that the prizes would be sent out within three days, asking them to keep an eye out for delivery.

This announcement was for the public, but Ming Zhu had already privately contacted the winners to collect their addresses and inform them of the expected delivery time.

The winners were ecstatic, while those who missed out lamented, “I missed out on a fortune.”

Seeing this, Jiang Xiaobai had an idea.

Her talisman skills couldn’t be freely used in this world due to various restrictions, but she couldn’t let her hard-earned abilities go to waste. She had to find a way to use them, even if opportunities were limited.

How could she use them?

Should she prepare a hundred talismans for each of her close friends?

But the fans’ enthusiasm gave her a new idea—she could use giveaways to share her talismans with her fans!

This way, she could indulge in her talisman-making hobby, gain more followers, and strengthen her bond with existing fans. It was a perfect solution.

Most of her talismans couldn’t be used in this world, so she decided to create ones that would be beneficial to ordinary people, like the calming talisman. In the future, she could come up with other types of talismans, keeping things fresh and interesting.

She chose the calming talisman first because many modern people were “night owls,” and their sleep suffered as a result. This talisman would help alleviate that issue and gradually improve their temperament, making them less prone to anger.

With this plan in mind, Jiang Xiaobai felt much better. She handed the completed items to Ming Zhu, who promised to send them to the fans as soon as possible.

The next day at noon, Jiang Xiaobai arrived at the restaurant where she had agreed to meet Yang Dan.

She had expected only Grandma Yang to be there, but she was accompanied by a sharp-looking middle-aged woman.

“Grandma Yang, good afternoon.”

Jiang Xiaobai greeted Yang Dan warmly as she entered the private room, then nodded politely to the unfamiliar woman.

“Xiaobai, come sit. Have some tea first.”

Yang Dan was as gentle and kind as ever, treating Jiang Xiaobai with great affection.

 

Chapter 150: A New Contract

“Thank you, Grandma Yang.”

“Xiaobai, let me introduce you. This is Manager Liu from Starlight Entertainment. You can call her Sister Liu.”

Yang Dan introduced the sharp and somewhat cold woman to Jiang Xiaobai.

Jiang Xiaobai paused, giving Yang Dan a puzzled look.

Starlight Entertainment?

There were many talent agencies, but the two giants were undoubtedly Tangming and Shenghuang, firmly occupying the top tier. However, there were also several companies in the second tier with promising growth, such as Shengyang, where the Rainbow Sisters were signed.

Starlight was one of them, and it had risen rapidly.

But Jiang Xiaobai was already signed with Tangming. Why had Yang Dan brought a manager from Starlight? What was the meaning behind this?

Despite her confusion, Jiang Xiaobai didn’t let her manners slip. She stood up and extended her hand. “Hello, Sister Liu. I’m Jiang Xiaobai.”

From the moment Jiang Xiaobai entered the private room, Sister Liu had been scrutinizing her, her gaze as sharp as a blade, cold and piercing.

However, Jiang Xiaobai could tell that this coldness was simply Sister Liu’s default demeanor, not a sign of hostility toward her.

“I’m Liu Qi,” she said briefly, shaking Jiang Xiaobai’s hand.

“Xiaobai, here’s the thing. I’ve been very grateful to you for saving me that day, and I’ve been thinking about how to repay you. Eventually, I thought about your career development.”

Yang Dan took the opportunity to explain. She took a sip of water, adjusted her glasses, and continued, “I’ve learned that you’ve been signed with Tangming for nearly two years, but it’s clear they haven’t prioritized you. In those two years, you haven’t landed any endorsements and have only played minor roles in four dramas. The roles were neither significant nor memorable, and even if you had performed well, they wouldn’t have given you a big break. Unfortunately, you didn’t perform well either, so these past two years have been largely unproductive. It’s only recently that you’ve started getting endorsements, magazine shoots, a variety show, and a drama, which have finally brought you some visibility.”

Yang Dan had clearly done her homework, thoroughly understanding Jiang Xiaobai’s career trajectory over the past two years.

Jiang Xiaobai remained silent, listening attentively.

She knew there was more to come.

“But a turning point doesn’t guarantee success. No one knows how much Tangming will invest in you moving forward or whether the resources they provide will be the right fit. If you take the wrong path, it’ll be hard to turn things around. The road for actresses is incredibly tough. You signed a 15-year contract, and only two years have passed. If you continue to waste your time at Tangming, it would be a real shame.”

As she spoke, Yang Dan watched Jiang Xiaobai’s expression, but Jiang Xiaobai’s face remained calm, giving nothing away.

“Liu Qi has some influence at Starlight, and she’s very optimistic about you. If you terminate your contract with Tangming and sign with Starlight, she’ll ensure you get the best resources within her power.”

At this point, Yang Dan looked at Liu Qi.

Liu Qi nodded and pulled a document from her briefcase. “Starlight will cover your termination fee. The new contract we’re offering is very favorable—a 10-year term, guaranteeing you a leading or supporting role in a mid-to-large-budget film or TV series every year. All the details are in the contract. You can review it carefully before making a decision.”

She slid the contract across the table to Jiang Xiaobai.

Jiang Xiaobai said nothing, flipping through the pages to read the terms.

Compared to Tangming’s contract, Starlight’s offer was undeniably generous.

“Xiaobai, you don’t need to worry. Grandma Yang wouldn’t harm you. While Starlight may be slightly smaller than Tangming, there’s a reason I chose them for you.”

Yang Dan spoke up again. “They say it’s easier to get things done when you have connections. Your biggest setback these past two years has been the lack of a backer. You’re beautiful, so it might seem like you’ve faced fewer obstacles in the industry, but in reality, you’ve encountered just as many. What I’m trying to say is that at Starlight, you’ll have someone to support and protect you.”

Jiang Xiaobai understood her meaning—Liu Qi would become her backer.

With a backer, Jiang Xiaobai could overcome obstacles more easily and advance her career faster.

“You don’t need to decide right now. Take your time to think it over and let us know when you’ve made up your mind,” Liu Qi said coolly.

However, after reviewing the contract, Jiang Xiaobai closed it and pushed it back toward Liu Qi.

Both Liu Qi and Yang Dan were taken aback.

“Grandma Yang, I saved you out of respect for a senior. I never expected to gain anything from it,” Jiang Xiaobai said softly. “This contract is very appealing, and I’m tempted. If I weren’t already signed with a company, I wouldn’t hesitate to accept it because I trust that you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”

Yang Dan asked, “And now?”

“Now… I can’t.”

Jiang Xiaobai shook her head. “Tangming didn’t promote me before because I wasn’t ready. But now they’ve recognized my potential and are already supporting me.”

“Earlier, when you had a conflict with Dou Fang, Tangming didn’t back you. Instead, they sided with her. Doesn’t that bother you?” Liu Qi suddenly asked.

It was a minor incident, but the fact that Liu Qi knew about it showed she had done her research before coming here.

This indicated that she genuinely had some interest in Jiang Xiaobai, not just because of Yang Dan.

“That wasn’t Tangming’s fault. The person at fault has already been punished,” Jiang Xiaobai replied.

The issue with Dou Fang had been due to the meddling of a manager who had connections with higher-ups. Given the circumstances, it was obvious who the company would side with.

“I didn’t expect you to be so indifferent to such a generous contract. Very well,” Yang Dan said with a wry smile. “Liu Qi, bring out the other contract.”

Liu Qi nodded and handed Jiang Xiaobai another document.

There was a second contract? What could this one be?

Curious, Jiang Xiaobai opened it.

“Heaven and Earth?” she exclaimed upon seeing the title on the first page.

“That’s right. Heaven and Earth has been greenlit, and casting is already underway, though the news hasn’t been made public yet. I’ve read the script, and there’s a role that’s a perfect fit for you. If you take it, it could significantly boost your career,” Liu Qi explained.

Jiang Xiaobai hadn’t heard of this film before, but given that they’d brought it up, it was likely a big-budget production with a renowned director.

“Rong Qian?” Jiang Xiaobai read the character’s name.

“Yes. In terms of screen time, she’s the third female lead, but her importance rivals that of the female lead. If you can portray her well…”

Liu Qi didn’t finish her sentence, but the implication was clear.

 

Chapter 151: Heaven and Earth

“I used personal connections to secure this role for you. If you accept it, all you need to do is sign the contract, and the role is yours,” Liu Qi said.

“If I take this contract, will it cause any trouble for Tangming?” Jiang Xiaobai asked, her interest piqued. She had just seen the director’s name—Lin Jia!

Lin Jia was one of the most renowned directors in the youth drama genre. His works were far from the clichéd, overdone plots of typical youth dramas—no sisterly feuds or teenage pregnancies. Instead, his films were meaningful and thought-provoking.

In short, any project he directed was guaranteed to be well-received. Even if the box office numbers weren’t stellar, his films never flopped.

Jiang Xiaobai had previously discussed her career direction with Dong Ran, and they were in complete agreement: it was better to take on fewer roles, but each one had to be high-quality. They absolutely had to avoid the kind of melodramatic, lowbrow “trendy” dramas that were all too common.

Taking on such roles, no matter how well she performed, would tarnish her image.

When Jiang Xiaobai first saw the title Heaven and Earth, she had some doubts. But now that she knew Lin Jia was the director, her concerns vanished.

This film would be good!

However, the script had come from Liu Qi at Starlight Entertainment, and its origins were unclear. Jiang Xiaobai worried that accepting it without Tangming’s knowledge might cause friction.

“Don’t worry. I obtained this script through personal connections. It has nothing to do with Starlight,” Liu Qi explained.

In truth, Liu Qi highly valued this script. She had secured the role as a backup plan. If Jiang Xiaobai declined, she had another actress in mind—a Starlight artist, of course.

Liu Qi was torn. Part of her wanted Jiang Xiaobai to accept the role, while another part felt it might be better if she didn’t.

“I’m very interested in this contract. Would it be possible for me to take it back and discuss it with my manager before making a decision?” Jiang Xiaobai asked.

Although Yang Dan’s endorsement gave her confidence that there was no trickery involved, it was still essential to consult her manager before accepting any role. It was a matter of mutual respect.

“Of course, but I’d appreciate it if you could give me an answer by tomorrow at the latest. I can’t wait too long,” Liu Qi said, nodding. A flicker of disappointment crossed her eyes.

“Grandma Yang, thank you. But I have a small favor to ask. Would it be possible for Tangming’s higher-ups to see this contract at an appropriate time?” Jiang Xiaobai stood up, looking somewhat embarrassed as she pointed to the Starlight contract on the table.

Yang Dan was taken aback. She exchanged a glance with Liu Qi, then burst into laughter.

“This girl is quite clever. She’s already thinking of ways to leverage this situation,” Yang Dan said, shaking her head with a smile. She then looked at Liu Qi.

Liu Qi’s usually cold expression softened slightly.

“That’s a small request. I can arrange for Yue Jin to see it at the right time,” Liu Qi agreed.

Yue Jin—wasn’t that the current head of Tangming?

Jiang Xiaobai was overjoyed. “Thank you, Sister Liu. Thank you, Grandma Yang.”

“Compared to what you’ve done for me, this is nothing,” Yang Dan said. “But speaking of which, I have a request of my own. Could I possibly get two protective charms?”

Yang Dan had been considering asking Jiang Xiaobai for protective charms, but she wanted to settle the contract matter first. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“I’ll need to consult my elders first, but it shouldn’t be a problem,” Jiang Xiaobai replied.

“Is that the protective charm you mentioned? Could I get one too?” Liu Qi interjected, her tone eager.

She must have heard about the protective charms from Yang Dan, which explained her excitement.

“Yes, that’s the one,” Yang Dan confirmed.

Liu Qi turned to Jiang Xiaobai.

“Of course. I’ll ask for you,” Jiang Xiaobai agreed without hesitation.

“Thank you. Now, let’s eat. These are all signature dishes…”

After the meal, Jiang Xiaobai returned home with the contract. Dong Ran, who had been waiting for her after receiving her call, stood up as soon as she heard the door open.

“Give me the contract,” Dong Ran said, immediately taking the folder from Jiang Xiaobai’s hands.

As Jiang Xiaobai went to her room to change, she heard Dong Ran’s excited voice from outside.

“Lin Jia’s youth drama, and you’d be playing Rong Qian, a pivotal character! This role is fantastic! Xiaobai, sign it immediately. Don’t hesitate!”

Opportunities like this could slip away if you hesitated. It was crucial to seize them right away.

“That’s what I thought too, but I wanted you to take a look first,” Jiang Xiaobai said, coming out of her room and taking the contract. She glanced at the character description. “The role requires dancing. It looks like I’ll have to get busy.”

Rong Qian’s character was a campus dance goddess, known for her stunning performances.

While Jiang Xiaobai had some dance training, she wasn’t a professional. She’d need to put in serious practice before filming to avoid embarrassing herself on camera.

Movies were different from TV dramas. Every frame of a film had to be flawless. Any mistake would stand out as a glaring flaw.

If Jiang Xiaobai embarrassed herself in front of a renowned director like Lin Jia, it would be much harder to land good roles in the future.

“Filming starts in a month. I’ll apply for a private dance studio at the company and find a top-notch instructor to train you in folk dance… Sun Cong! I’ll see if I can get Sun Cong to coach you.”

Dong Ran quickly made a plan and headed to the balcony to make some calls. Before leaving, she reminded Jiang Xiaobai to sign the contract and inform Liu Qi as soon as possible to lock in the role.

A film by a renowned director like Lin Jia would attract countless actors vying for even minor roles. Even a small part could help build a fanbase, especially if the film performed well at the box office. And Rong Qian wasn’t just a minor role—she was a significant character.

Since Liu Qi had mentioned that the casting was being done discreetly, the actors being considered were likely already on the director’s radar. If any of them decided they wanted the role of Rong Qian, things could get complicated.

So it was crucial to finalize the deal as soon as possible!

 

 

 

Chapter 152: You Are Rong Qian

Jiang Xiaobai agreed, signed the contract, and called Liu Qi. After listening to her, Liu Qi gave her a number.

“This is Director Lin’s phone number. Call him—he wants to meet you,” Liu Qi said.

Jiang Xiaobai hung up the phone. By then, Dong Ran had returned, but her expression was grim.

“What’s wrong, Sister Ran?” Jiang Xiaobai asked as she walked out of her room and noticed Dong Ran’s troubled look.

“I called Sun Cong, but he said his schedule has already been booked by Hai Cen, so he can’t help us. When I asked about Hai Cen’s training schedule, he said…” Dong Ran frowned. “He said Hai Cen only trains for two hours on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday mornings!”

“That’s so little time!” Jiang Xiaobai exclaimed. “Why does he need to monopolize Sun Cong? Couldn’t Sun Cong teach others at the same time?”

“I called Hai Cen’s manager, but he said it was Hai Cen’s decision—he wants Sun Cong to focus solely on him,” Dong Ran explained, shaking her head.

“Is Sun Cong the only option? Are there no other teachers at the company?” Jiang Xiaobai asked curiously.

“His folk dance skills are unparalleled. Compared to him, others pale in comparison. If it weren’t for his lack of formal qualifications, he’d be on par with today’s so-called experts,” Dong Ran explained. “Never mind, I’ll go to the company in person and see what I can do.”

With that, she grabbed her car keys and bag and headed out.

“How unlucky. Why does it have to be Hai Cen? He’s not the easiest person to deal with…” Jiang Xiaobai murmured, frowning.

When Jiang Xiaobai heard Hai Cen’s name, she knew it wouldn’t be easy to get Sun Cong’s time.

Hai Cen was a second-tier male actor. He had delicate features, a tall and slender build, and a somewhat effeminate charm that made him popular among young female fans.

His aura was slightly androgynous. He rose to fame after playing a delicate young prince in a palace drama, and his name quickly became known after the show aired.

Hai Cen had a natural talent for acting. Almost every drama he starred in became a hit, and he gradually moved from supporting roles to male lead positions.

However, his somewhat feminine appearance limited his roles. After all, how many male leads were slender, with delicate features and a sultry gaze?

Hai Cen also had a difficult personality, though it was different from Jiang Xiaobai’s. While Jiang Xiaobai was straightforward and didn’t offend others unnecessarily, Hai Cen was capricious and often clashed with other celebrities.

But he must have some connections, or he wouldn’t have lasted this long in the industry.

“Let’s try to avoid conflict. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll find another teacher,” Jiang Xiaobai said.

She called Director Lin Jia, who spoke in a refined and gentle manner. He asked Jiang Xiaobai to bring the contract and meet him the next day, saying they’d discuss the details then.

Dong Ran returned that evening.

“I’ve spoken to Hai Cen’s manager. He said we can avoid Hai Cen’s training times and visit Sun Cong in the afternoon,” Dong Ran said, taking a long drink of water before finally smiling. “You’re meeting Director Lin tomorrow, right? Once that’s settled, we’ll start your dance training.”

“Thank you, Sister Ran. I know you must have gone through a lot to get this arranged,” Jiang Xiaobai said gratefully.

“It’s nothing… Oh, by the way, I ran into Chao Nan at the company. He said your MV will be released tomorrow, so be prepared.”

“So soon?” Jiang Xiaobai was surprised.

“It’s not that soon. Beyond the Illusions is the song Chao Nan has been working on the longest. It took a lot of time to translate his inspiration into music. The preparation phase was lengthy—it’s just the MV filming and post-production that were done quickly,” Dong Ran explained. “From the way Chao Nan talked, he seems very confident about this song.”

“The song is amazing,” Jiang Xiaobai said earnestly.

Dong Ran nodded in agreement.

She had been involved in the project and knew the quality of the song. In her opinion, it was bound to be a hit once it was released!

The next morning, Dong Ran drove Jiang Xiaobai to meet Lin Jia.

The meeting took place in a quaint courtyard. Dong Ran had already found out that this was the location for recent auditions. The place was discreet, as Lin Jia didn’t want the process to be leaked to the paparazzi.

Lin Jia was a director who disliked excessive commercial promotion. He preferred to keep things under wraps until the casting was finalized.

“Director Lin,” Jiang Xiaobai greeted as she stood before him, undergoing his scrutiny.

Jiang Xiaobai was nervous. The contract had been secured through Liu Qi’s connections, and now Lin Jia wanted to meet her. She was worried something might go wrong.

As Lin Jia studied her, she also observed him.

Lin Jia was 50 years old, relatively young for a director. He had a scholarly air about him, more like an academic than a filmmaker. His speech was gentle and refined.

“Rong Qian… Yes, you are Rong Qian,” Lin Jia murmured, his gaze distant as he looked at Jiang Xiaobai. When he said the name “Rong Qian,” his eyes lit up with a bright, almost affectionate glow, as if he were looking at a beloved child.

Jiang Xiaobai’s heart settled.

“Give me the contract… I heard you can dance. How’s your foundation?” Lin Jia asked.

“I studied ballet as a child, but I haven’t had formal training in folk dance. I’ve already found a teacher at the company, and I’ll start training tomorrow,” Jiang Xiaobai explained.

“Good. The film starts shooting in about a month. Your scenes aren’t numerous, but they’re crucial. Go home and study the script carefully,” Lin Jia said, nodding. “A week before filming, we’ll take promotional photos. You’ll need to perform a dance then, so… practice well.”

His gaze was profound as he spoke those last words.

“I will, Director Lin,” Jiang Xiaobai assured him.

“Good, then you can—”

“Director Lin! Didn’t Mr. Chen mention to you that I wanted the female lead role, not the supporting one?”

The sound of high heels clicking interrupted them, and the door was pushed open to reveal a beautiful but angry face.

She hadn’t expected anyone else to be in the room and froze momentarily when she saw Jiang Xiaobai.

“Song Lianyun,” Lin Jia said, frowning with displeasure as he looked at the intruder. “Don’t you know it’s basic courtesy to knock before entering?”

 

 

Chapter 153: I Don’t Need Investment

“Director Lin, I apologize for my rudeness,” Song Lianyun said, quickly masking her surprise. She hesitated for a moment before continuing, “But the role I want to audition for isn’t Yu Ran—it’s Rong Qian. Could you give me a chance?”

Jiang Xiaobai, standing nearby, felt a flicker of unease.

Song Lianyun was a top-tier actress. She was willing to pass up the female lead role to pursue Rong Qian, a supporting character… Dong Ran was right—good roles were always in high demand, and there would always be people vying for them.

“That might not be possible,” Lin Jia said, his tone carrying a hint of displeasure that subtly shifted his refined demeanor into something colder. “The contract for Rong Qian has already been signed.”

“How is that possible? Just two days ago, it was still… Jiang Xiaobai, was it you?”

Song Lianyun was about to argue but suddenly turned to Jiang Xiaobai, her eyes narrowing.

Jiang Xiaobai ignored her and instead addressed Lin Jia, “Director Lin, should I head back now?”

“Yes, wait for further instructions,” Lin Jia replied, his expression softening as he nodded at Jiang Xiaobai.

Jiang Xiaobai agreed and turned to leave, but Song Lianyun blocked her path at the door.

Jiang Xiaobai paused and looked up at her.

Song Lianyun stood in the doorway, not looking at Jiang Xiaobai but instead addressing Lin Jia with a hint of frustration, “Director Lin, when Mr. Chen invested in this project, he clearly—”

“Don’t talk to me about investment. I don’t need investment,” Lin Jia interrupted with a faint smile, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes adding to his dignified charm. “If you’re not interested in auditioning for Yu Ran, then there’s no suitable role for you. Perhaps my project isn’t the right fit for you.”

Song Lianyun was visibly angered. Jiang Xiaobai could sense her breathing becoming uneven, half-expecting her to lose her temper. But to her credit, Song Lianyun managed to hold it together.

The composure of a top-tier actress was indeed impressive.

“Director Lin, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just felt the role wasn’t what I expected, so I wanted to discuss it with you. Please don’t be upset,” Song Lianyun said, smoothing her hair and forcing a flawless smile. “Yu Ran is a good role too. I’d like to give it a try.”

“If you think it’s good, then study the script carefully. The audition will be based on skill, not on who has the most backing,” Lin Jia said coolly.

His words were cutting, but Song Lianyun acted as if she hadn’t noticed, maintaining her smile despite a brief flicker of tension. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll work hard.”

With that, she excused herself but turned to Jiang Xiaobai before leaving. “Aren’t you leaving too? Shall we go together?”

Can I say no? Probably not.

So Jiang Xiaobai nodded and followed her out.

“How did you get the role of Rong Qian?” Song Lianyun asked after a few steps, her gaze now filled with curiosity and a hint of disdain.

Though Song Lianyun was at the lower end of the top-tier actress spectrum, her popularity and influence were still significant. She had starred in numerous hit films and TV dramas. Yet even she couldn’t secure the role of Rong Qian. So how had Jiang Xiaobai managed it?

Ah, no wonder her recent news coverage has increased. She must have found a backer too.

“That’s none of your concern,” Jiang Xiaobai replied, recognizing the mockery and the unspoken assumption in Song Lianyun’s eyes. She had no intention of explaining herself. “I have things to do, so I’ll take my leave now.”

With that, she walked away, heading toward Dong Ran’s car parked nearby.

“Song Lianyun? What’s going on? Was she here to audition?” Dong Ran asked, having seen the two of them talking from the car. She couldn’t make out Song Lianyun’s expression from a distance, so she had no idea what had transpired.

“She was here to steal a role,” Jiang Xiaobai joked, then recounted the incident.

Dong Ran chuckled. “How ridiculous. Trying to use investment as leverage to influence Lin Jia’s casting decisions? There are plenty of people lining up to invest in his projects—he’s the one who gets to pick and choose.”

“If someone wants to influence him, they’d need two things: first, the talent to back it up, and second, a favor Lin Jia owes them. Even then, it’s not guaranteed. He’s very particular about his projects,” Dong Ran explained as she drove.

She went on to share some background on Song Lianyun.

“She used to be ambitious and wanted to make it on her own. And she did, to some extent. But after reaching the top tier, her momentum stalled. She couldn’t land the right roles, and her performances became lackluster. Last year, she finally gave in and accepted Mr. Chen’s ‘pursuit.’”

Dong Ran smiled slightly when she mentioned “pursuit,” but there was no mockery in her tone. After all, such arrangements were common in the industry.

If anything, Song Lianyun was one of the more respectable ones. There were far more unsavory characters in the business.

“Thankfully, your role is secured. Otherwise, there would’ve been plenty of people trying to take it from you. Song Lianyun is just one of them,” Dong Ran sighed.

Jiang Xiaobai nodded in agreement. “Anyone with experience and insight can see that this role is just as important as the female lead.”

The female lead had more screen time, but the supporting role of Rong Qian was a pivotal character. In comparison, the second female lead seemed less significant. No wonder Song Lianyun wanted to pass on it and go for Rong Qian instead.

“Sister Ran, I’ll start my dance training tomorrow afternoon. Director Lin said I’ll need to perform a dance before the promotional photoshoot. Time is tight,” Jiang Xiaobai said.

“Alright, I’ve already arranged things with the dance studio. I’ll go with you tomorrow,” Dong Ran assured her. “You’ll do fine. Don’t worry. By the way, Zhao Xiulun’s The King of E-sports has finally set a start date—it’ll begin filming in a month and a half.”

“Will that conflict with Heaven and Earth?” Jiang Xiaobai asked, concerned.

The King of Esports was a project she had signed onto long ago, but the start date had been delayed for various reasons. As an actress, all she could do was wait for the production team’s updates.

Fortunately, they now had a confirmed start date.

“It shouldn’t be an issue, but make sure to inform Director Lin next time you see him. That way, he can schedule your scenes accordingly and avoid overlapping commitments,” Dong Ran said, unfazed.

Conflicts like this were common in the industry, and directors were used to managing them. But it was crucial for actors to communicate their schedules in advance to avoid disrupting the production timeline.

“Got it,” Jiang Xiaobai said, making a mental note.

 

 

Chapter 154: Beyond the Illusions

After signing the contract, Jiang Xiaobai received a more detailed script. Once she got home, she immediately dove into studying it.

The more thoroughly she understood the material, the easier it would be to perform.

“Xiaobai, look! Beyond the Illusions has been released—it’s amazing!” Ming Zhu exclaimed.

Jiang Xiaobai was curled up on the couch with a script in her hands, a cup of coffee on the table, and a large pillow hugged to her chest. Her chin rested on the pillow, and her long hair framed her face, making her cheeks appear even more delicate and charming.

Hearing Ming Zhu’s words, Jiang Xiaobai lifted her head. “Really? Let me see.”

She picked up her phone and didn’t even need to search for it—the MV was already trending.

[Chao Nan v: Beyond the Illusions is complete. Special thanks to the heroine—@Jiang Xiaobai—for her collaboration.]

The post was brief and to the point, just like Chao Nan’s usual style.

Jiang Xiaobai had indeed participated as a favor, as she wasn’t paid for her role in the MV. This was Dong Ran’s idea—since they were leveraging Chao Nan’s popularity, and the payment wasn’t substantial, they decided to treat it as a friendly collaboration.

Jiang Xiaobai didn’t mind. She wasn’t short on money. What mattered was gaining exposure.

The MV’s thumbnail already hinted at its vintage setting. Jiang Xiaobai clicked on the video and leaned back on the couch to watch.

The MV was 11 minutes long. It began by establishing the historical backdrop, followed by a scene of the prince being pursued and poisoned. The shots were concise but effectively conveyed the urgency of the situation.

As the music began, Chao Nan’s voice seamlessly blended with the visuals.

The prince’s entourage was wiped out as they tried to protect him, leaving him alone and desperate. He searched for help, but the wilderness offered no refuge.

Chao Nan, playing the prince, was undeniably handsome, with eyes like stars. However, his character was in a dire situation, and his makeup was deliberately smudged—though the smudges were artfully placed, not detracting from his good looks.

As the poison took effect, the prince grew weaker. Just as he was about to give up hope, a figure in red descended from the sky and stood before him.

The woman’s red robes fluttered, her black hair cascading like ink. Her hands, holding a sword, were as white as jade, yet they left trails of blood with every strike.

Despite the violence, the scene had an almost ethereal beauty. Every movement she made was like a painting, her eyes sharp yet mesmerizing.

Before the prince lost consciousness, he locked eyes with her—those fierce, captivating eyes that left a lasting impression.

Watching the MV as a viewer, Jiang Xiaobai felt the red-clad heroine was truly heroic, embodying the spirit of a martial artist.

While her performance contributed to the character’s impact, the makeup, music, and color grading also played significant roles in creating such a vivid impression.

When the scene shifted to the heroine and the prince stargazing on a mountaintop, Jiang Xiaobai paid special attention to her own close-up.

Not bad, she thought. The emotion in my eyes looks genuine.

Even she could feel the depth of the heroine’s affection for the prince.

The “human talisman” technique really worked!

Though 10 minutes might seem long, the MV felt short due to its captivating visuals and music. Jiang Xiaobai listened to her own singing and was pleasantly surprised.

During the recording, she hadn’t noticed, but now she could hear how well her voice complemented the song. No wonder Chao Nan had adjusted the melody after hearing her sing.

“Chao Nan is really talented,” Jiang Xiaobai said earnestly after finishing the MV.

Indeed, the composition, lyrics, and his performance were all exceptional.

“Yeah, Chao Nan has been in the music industry for years. His success isn’t without reason. I just wonder when he’ll break into the top tier of singers. I’m looking forward to that day,” Ming Zhu sighed.

“Just singing alone won’t attract fans. To gain more recognition, he needs to promote himself,” Dong Ran chimed in.

She had come home with Jiang Xiaobai to watch the MV’s release. Now that she’d seen it, she was relieved and couldn’t help but smile. “Chao Nan doesn’t like appearing on variety shows, but those are the best ways to gain fans.”

Singers and actors were different. Singers had fewer opportunities to be seen, making it easier for them to be forgotten.

While focusing solely on music could earn admiration, today’s society was too fast-paced. People craved novelty, and artists needed to stay in the public eye to remain relevant. Chao Nan would have to step into the noisy world of entertainment if he wanted to go further.

“But maybe his fans love him precisely because he’s so low-key and unassuming?” Jiang Xiaobai suggested.

“That depends on what he wants—to become more famous or to maintain his quiet image and fade into obscurity,” Dong Ran replied with a smile.

Jiang Xiaobai didn’t respond. It was his choice, and no one else could make it for him.

After watching the MV, Jiang Xiaobai checked the comments.

“This story… it’s so moving. It really got to me.”

“I’m in love with the heroine. She’s so beautiful and cool! Holding that sword, she’s like, ‘I’m the queen of the world!’”

“What’s the ending? Will the heroine come back after seeing the notice? Can they still be together?”

“I doubt it. The heroine is a free spirit. She’s more drawn to the martial world. Can you imagine her as a palace concubine? I can’t.”

“That enemy princess was so tragic. She didn’t do anything wrong. If it weren’t for her, the two countries would’ve gone to war. Her marriage brought peace, so she’s actually the prince’s savior. He was too harsh on her.”

“I like Chao Nan, but the prince is a jerk.”

“In the face of national interests, love has to take a backseat. You can’t really call him a jerk.”

The complex relationships between the characters—the drifting nation, the devoted prince, the heroic heroine, and the gentle enemy princess—stirred strong emotions among viewers. The comments were filled with discussions and debates.

There was no clear consensus, as each character resonated differently with the audience.

As Jiang Xiaobai scrolled through the comments, she noticed something surprising—the most popular character wasn’t Chao Nan’s prince, but her heroine.

The term “heroine” appeared repeatedly in the comments.

“The heroine is so adorable. She ate burnt meat without flinching. What has she been through? Haha!”

“Why eat the bunny? It’s so cute!”

“I really want to know how the heroine roamed the martial world after leaving. It must’ve been epic!”