The Movie Queen's Mouth is Blessed - Chapter 2

Being called Moonlit Immortal wasn’t an exaggeration—Liu Ruyan was breathtakingly beautiful, an ethereal presence that seemed untouched by the mortal world.

She was undoubtedly the most captivating character in Legend of the Nine Heavens. Even the female lead appeared less striking when standing beside her.

Legend of the Nine Heavens was a high-budget drama adapted from a popular novel. With substantial investment and an established fanbase spanning years, as long as the cast possessed visual appeal and acting talent, this drama had every chance of becoming a major hit!

Under normal circumstances, forget the second female lead—even minor supporting roles would have been out of Jiang Xiaobai’s reach.

But fate had other plans.

The role had already been cast. However, not long after, the actress suffered an unfortunate injury, leaving her unable to participate.

The production team had to find a replacement with filming about to begin. Delaying the entire schedule for a single actor simply wasn’t an option.

That’s where the real challenge began.

The second female lead wasn’t just any character—she had significant screen time, and most importantly, she was described as a stunning beauty. Finding someone who could meet both criteria on short notice proved difficult.

Fans of Legend of the Nine Heavens had been eagerly anticipating the casting of Liu Ruyan. While she did later take a darker path in the story, making choices that left readers conflicted, there was no denying one thing—she was mesmerizing.

In the novel, she is described as a peerless beauty, so breathtakingly perfect that she seems sculpted from jade, an otherworldly presence among mortals. When news of the adaptation surfaced, discussions over who would portray her ignited online debates, even sparking a casting poll on social media.

The drama’s female lead was beautiful, sweet, and delicate. If the production cast a second female lead who did not stand out visually, it would go against the original novel’s portrayal.

The original Jiang Xiaobai had many flaws—temperamental, self-assured, and often disconnected in her performances. But one thing was undeniable—she was terrific.

That was why Dong Ran had immediately seized the opportunity. When she heard about the recasting, she worked relentlessly to get Jiang Xiaobai’s name in front of the production team.

Under normal circumstances, the crew might have dismissed an actress known more for her looks than her acting. However, Jiang Xiaobai’s stunning features and naturally proud, aloof temperament made her an ideal fit for Liu Ruyan’s character. She’d play herself if cast, reducing the risk of a weak performance.

However, Jiang Xiaobai wasn’t the only candidate.

Another actress was also being considered—Zhao Shan.

Zhao Shan was a rising star whose popularity has been soaring recently. She was confident, charismatic, and, most importantly, had established acting skills. Compared to Jiang Xiaobai, she had far more industry connections and experience.

In every aspect except sheer beauty, Jiang Xiaobai was at a disadvantage.

Determined to secure the role, Dong Ran approached President Zhao, one of the drama’s primary investors, hoping to advocate for Jiang Xiaobai.

President Zhao listened and responded with a casual chuckle.

“I’m hosting a banquet tonight. Have her attend, and we’ll consider our options.”

When Dong Ran relayed this message to Jiang Xiaobai, she received a firm refusal.

“Compromise me? Not a chance.”

Jiang Xiaobai could still hear those words echoing in her mind.

In her eyes, she was a rare gem—if others failed to recognize her worth, it was their loss. Why should she lower her principles for a role? Socializing with an investor for an opportunity? It’s not happening.

If anything, she preferred to carve her own path, free and unrestrained.

Just as she was lost in thought—

Ding-dong.

The doorbell suddenly rang.

Jiang Xiaobai glanced at the time—4 PM.

At this hour, only one person would come looking for her.

Dong Ran.

Putting aside the script she had been skimming, Jiang Xiaobai got up and opened the door. As expected, standing outside was a woman dressed in a sharp business suit and wearing round-framed glasses.

The woman looked to be in her late thirties or early forties. She was well-maintained, but the deep lines around her mouth gave her a stern and authoritative presence. When she saw Jiang Xiaobai, her brows furrowed in displeasure, and a flicker of irritation flashed in her eyes.

“Do you know what time it is?! Why aren’t you dressed yet? Are you still planning to skip the banquet tonight?!”

Her voice carried a commanding force, making Jiang Xiaobai straighten instinctively.

Dong Ran had always been decisive, but she wasn’t naturally short-tempered. However, years of constant disagreements with the original Jiang Xiaobai had worn her patience thin. Their frequent clashes had gradually made Dong Ran firmer and more insistent when dealing with her.

Jiang Xiaobai stepped back and said calmly, “Come inside first.”

Dong Ran froze.

No immediate retort? No stubborn argument?

She found it hard to believe but didn’t dwell on it for long. Stepping into the apartment, she quickly resumed, “Jiang Xiaobai, I’m telling you—you must go tonight. President Zhao is a key figure in this industry. He personally invited you, which means this is an important opportunity. If you turn it down, it could hurt your chances of securing roles in the future.”

“All right.”

“What do you mean ‘all right’—Wait. What?”

Dong Ran’s eyes widened in shock.

Jiang Xiaobai casually ran her fingers through her long hair and smiled. “I said, ‘All right.’ I’ll go.”

“…Has the sun risen from the west? You came to your senses?!”

Scoffing, Dong Ran dropped onto the couch, but her eyes kept flickering toward Jiang Xiaobai.

Something felt off.

They hadn’t seen each other for long, yet her attitude had changed entirely. The usual arrogance was gone. Instead of looking distant and high-strung, she now seemed… calm. And when she smiled earlier, there was even a touch of warmth.

This was beyond strange.

“Dong Ran, I’m sorry. I was being stubborn before.”

Jiang Xiaobai grabbed a drink from the fridge and handed it to her, her tone sincere. “I know you put much effort into getting me this role. You’re doing it for my sake. So, this time, I’ll go. I’ll do my best to fight for Liu Ruyan’s role.”

Dong Ran sat there in stunned silence.

She didn’t even blink as she stared at Jiang Xiaobai, trying to process the words she just heard. Then, after a few moments, she reached out and pinched Jiang Xiaobai’s elbow—

“Ow! That hurts.”

Jiang Xiaobai winced, her delicate brows furrowing as she let out a soft whimper.

“Are you possessed? Or are you just trying to trick me again?”

Dong Ran pulled her hand back, still looking deeply skeptical.

“Dong Ran, we’ve worked together for two or three years. Do you really think I’d play games with you?”

Jiang Xiaobai sighed. “If you had bad intentions and were the agent who only cared about personal gain, I would have suffered greatly in this industry. But you didn’t. You’ve always looked out for me, yet I… I let you down so many times. I finally understand now. I won’t disappoint you again.”

The original Jiang Xiaobai was straightforward but naive. She had spent nearly three years in the industry and still retained her innocence, and that was entirely thanks to Dong Ran.

Dong Ran had shielded her from the industry’s harsh realities and worked hard to get her opportunities. But Jiang Xiaobai had been too stubborn—unwilling to compromise and unwilling to tolerate even the smallest sacrifices. Their constant disagreements had led to frequent arguments.

Over time, their relationship grew tense. Every conversation felt like a battle; every interaction laced with cold indifference. Outside of work, they barely had any personal communication.

The original Jiang Xiaobai had always felt that Dong Ran was forcing her to do things she didn’t like. But she never considered what Dong Ran had done for her behind the scenes.

At the end of the day, she had simply been too protected—too naive about how the entertainment industry worked. She hadn’t gone through any real hardships yet.