Qin Sang thought she had a bit of blind confidence in herself. Even though she’d had pretty bad luck all her life—never even winning a “One More Bottle” consolation prize—it didn’t stop her from feeling quite good about herself.

Wen Jie, like a formidable woman, was busy answering calls and placating business partners, while also managing the scene here and giving directions. Her assistant brought over two coordinated evening gowns for her to choose from. Holding her phone, she said, “Director Qian, if there’s an opportunity, of course Sang Sang would love to work with you. It’s just that the schedule is full, and we can’t fit it in.”

After saying that, she covered the receiver, slightly turned away, and signaled with her eyes, lowering her voice: “That one, it looks more steady.”

When Wen Jie had finished placating Directors Zhao, Qian, Sun, and Li, she caught sight of Qin Sang still sitting motionless out of the corner of her eye and was instantly horrified: “My dear, what time is it already? Why haven’t you changed yet?”

“I think what I’m wearing now is fine, no need to change.”

See, that stubbornness of overestimating herself is coming through again.

Sister Wen doesn’t humor her. “Do you even know what kind of occasion today is? Dressed like this? Do you really think you’re some golden phoenix, that just throwing on a ragged piece of burlap will be enough? Xiao Xiao, what are you standing there for? Hurry up and change her clothes!”

Xiao Xiao is the assistant’s name. She stands to the side holding the dress, eyes fixed on her nose, nose fixed on her heart, and turns a deaf ear—clearly, she’s used to scenes like this.

Qin Sang is usually quite cooperative, except when she occasionally throws a childish tantrum, like right now, nitpicking—plain and simple, she just doesn’t want to go to the event.

She looked pitifully at her agent. “Wen Jie, can I not go?”

Wen Jie mercilessly refused, “No.”

“Pushing a social recluse like me into a social situation—can you bear to do that? That’s like walking into a dragon’s den, there’s no way out!” Qin Sang exaggerated dramatically.

Wen Jie looked at her with a smile, one that was quite ruthless. “Xiao Xiao, get her changed.”

Qin Sang struggled fruitlessly, still unwilling to give up, weeping to Xiaoxiao: “It’s too tight, it’s choking me, I can barely breathe.”

“You’ve got the nerve to complain,” Sister Wen snapped, her head throbbing from the noise. “Who was it that went crazy insisting on eating in the middle of the night?”

Qin Sang instantly felt guilty. “I’ve been in a bad mood lately…”

“You really know how to pick your moments—bad mood means binge eating,” Sister Wen coldly called her out. “How come you’re not getting skinnier? Don’t think I don’t know—your fitness coach already told me you’ve been slacking off lately. Not only are you not checking in on time, but you’ve even gained five pounds!”

The last sentence was almost shouted out.

Qin Sang shrank back at the shout, still muttering indignantly in a low voice, “Traitor!”

And she even introduced a few premium clients to that fitness coach, who were genuinely valuable connections! And he went behind her back to sell her out!

“What traitor? Do you think everyone is as clueless as you? The one who pays his salary is me. Who else would he side with, if not me?”

Sister Wen was boiling with anger just thinking about it. If she hadn’t noticed the girl’s off state in the past few days, she wouldn’t have given her the chance to indulge like this.

“How dare you do this, Qin Sang? Five pounds! Don’t you know that actresses look ten pounds heavier on screen? With body fat percentage as shockingly high as yours, aren’t you afraid of being mocked by anti-fans for being both carefree and plump?”

“I’m warning you—you’re about to start filming soon. However you managed to gain this weight recently, you better grit your teeth and lose it all!”

Ms. Wen had a fiery temper.

Qin Sang didn’t dare provoke the tiger, but she couldn’t resist venting privately to Xiaoxiao: “Do you think Ms. Wen’s hormones have been out of whack lately? She’s so irritable—she even has a blister on her lip.”

Xiaoxiao, accustomed to staying silent, felt like crying but had no tears. She thought to herself, Sangsang, if you had said a few less words, Sister Wen wouldn’t be so worked up.

……

Qin Sang wasn’t lying either. She truly had social anxiety—just a selective form of social phobia. In such situations, she usually avoided them altogether. It wasn’t an issue in the past when she skipped events, but this year was different. Having just won the Golden Bell Award for Best Actress, her absence would inevitably give malicious people an opportunity to stir up trouble.

She sighed, standing in a less conspicuous corner, gazing longingly at the dessert tower placed right before her, yet unable to take a single bite.

Qin Sang looked at Xiaoxiao with a pleading expression. Xiaoxiao also shook her head gravely: Hold back, you absolutely can’t break your resolve.

Qin Sang sighed once more, listless and looking quite pitiful.

Unlike Sister Wen, who thrives in such occasions, effortlessly navigating them, whenever someone comes over to greet her, she simply follows obediently by Sister Wen’s side, acting like a well-behaved little accessory.

Right now, Sister Wen has been called away, stepping out to take a phone call—eight hundred work calls a day—and before leaving, she didn’t forget to give her a stern look, warning her not to sneak a bite.

Qin Sang thought, if I don’t eat, then I don’t eat—why bother sending a supervisor to keep an eye on me? She turned her head and glanced at Xiao Xiao, who was standing there like a door god, and instantly felt that life was hopeless, sinking into even deeper sorrow.

“Teacher Liang, this role really suits you perfectly. There’s no actress in the entire entertainment industry with a unique temperament like yours. If it’s possible, perhaps you could consider it? Actually, this kind of subject matter is quite rare, and it’s a big challenge, but I believe that with your abilities, you and this character would definitely fit together seamlessly.”

Qin Sang was keeping an eye on everything, mostly because she had nothing better to do. Hearing such sycophantic remarks, she couldn’t help but wonder: what kind of person could even manage to deliver such a high-level of flattery?

As soon as she looked up, she spotted Liang Tingwan across the way. Well, they say enemies are destined to cross paths—in such a huge venue, she just had to run into her.

Liang Tingwan was clearly being harassed for quite some time, a hint of impatience flickering across her face. However, she was keeping her emotions well under control, merely suppressing the urge to lash out.

Turning to the person opposite, they did seem rather sneaky and not quite like a respectable figure. Claiming to be an actor? There seemed to be no trace of them—perhaps they were some new director or producer?

Liang Tingwan was truly fed up. Just as she was about to speak, her assistant nudged her arm, signaling her to look ahead.

Coincidentally, her gaze met Qin Sang’s directly.

After all, Qin Sang had been eavesdropping, so morally she wasn’t in the right. Feeling slightly guilty, she averted her eyes. Liang Tingwan was taken aback for a moment. Given that they were competitors in the same market—a cake barely big enough for one person, let alone two vying for the same slice—and she had ended up losing out to her rival, it was especially frustrating.

The tactless guy shamelessly promoting himself in front of her was annoying, but running into her victorious competitor only made matters worse.

Just one word: annoying.

Liang Tingwan’s thoughts shifted, and she instantly came up with a countermeasure. She smiled and said, “Director Zhou, it’s not that I don’t want to agree—it’s just that I don’t have the capability. If we’re talking about the actress with the best acting skills in the industry, it must be Ms. Qin! And after carefully reading the script, I feel that the role you mentioned isn’t something I can handle, but it suits Ms. Qin perfectly. If Ms. Qin agrees, I dare guarantee the box office will be at least half secured.”

……

Xiaoxiao wondered, “Sangsang, what are Teacher Liang and that person talking about? They both seem to have been looking at you for a while.”

Qin Sang glanced across the room, coincidentally meeting Liang Tingwan’s gaze. As their eyes locked, Liang Tingwan raised her wine glass with a smile directed at her.

Qin Sang was instantly on high alert, sensing something amiss. “I suspect she’s secretly plotting against me.”

……

Zhou Yihong had managed to enter the venue only by tagging along with a friend who had an invitation. However, he believed that those who achieved great things didn’t sweat the small stuff. The cold shoulders and dismissive glances he had endured for the sake of future success were nothing to him.

He had made his rounds, tirelessly pitching his ideas, but to little avail. It was clear that investors were more interested in projects that promised quick returns. As for actors, they cared less about the work itself and more about the strength of the production team.

Zhou Yihong had pinned his last hope on Liang Tingwan. From the moment he entered, he had been captivated by her aura. Yet, his efforts were in vain—Liang Tingwan had no interest in the role he was offering.

Hearing Liang Tingwan say this, Zhou Yihong followed her gaze and instantly his eyes lit up.

Qin Sang, tall and slender, wore a black velvet gown with subtle patterns, which made her look both coldly beautiful and striking. At almost the first glance, the character of the female colonel in Zhou Yihong’s mind became tangible and three-dimensional.

……

Qin Sang, for all her lifelong streak of bad luck, had always been strangely accurate when it came to ominous gut feelings.

The way the two across the table were sizing her up—like meat on a chopping block, being weighed and selected for the slaughter—only deepened her unease.

Sure enough, the next moment, the bootlicker strode over with a drink in hand, all smiles.

Her heart hammered in her chest, but she couldn’t show fear. After all, you don’t strike someone who comes bearing a smile—and this one clearly knew the playbook by heart, a true master of the game.

She probably now understood why Liang Tingwan’s expression had been so complicated earlier. Though Liang Tingwan herself was somewhat dull, her professional skills were indeed solid, and it was rare for her to lose emotional control in public. She was considered an actress with a fairly good reputation. Anyone who could nearly make her lose composure in front of a crowd must possess some significant skill.

With that level of smooth talking, who wouldn’t be swayed?

After listening for a while, Qin Sang finally grasped the situation.

The other party had a decent script, but the genre was quite niche—a rare sci-fi film in the domestic market.

Moreover, he wasn’t formally trained but rather a self-taught director, and given how exclusive this circle is, it’s no wonder he kept hitting walls everywhere he went.

Zhou Yihong had faced enough cold stares and closed doors tonight—more setbacks in one evening than he had experienced throughout his entire life growing up.

After all, he was a top student, a proper graduate of Tsinghua University.

If he weren’t genuinely interested in this field, he wouldn’t have stepped off his original life path at nearly thirty, decisively embarking on this point of no return.

After a few drinks, he was feeling light-headed, and his emotions suddenly got the better of him.

Zhou Yihong sighed dejectedly, “I know crossing into a new industry is incredibly hard. I was mentally prepared before I came, but I never expected it would be so difficult that I couldn’t even take the first step.”

Qin Sang wasn’t particularly outstanding in other areas, but his empathy was remarkably strong, which made him incredibly quick to get into character when acting—almost as if divinely aided. However, it was also why he had a hard time stepping out of those roles.

Everything Zhou Yihong had gone through tonight, Qin Sang had also experienced back when he first started out, stirring up a whirlwind of mixed emotions in him.

She wavered for a moment. “How about… you send me the script to have a look?”

Zhou Yihong hadn’t expected Qin Sang to agree either. When he suddenly heard this, he was a bit stunned at first, followed by wild excitement: “Then, Teacher Qin, would it be convenient to add each other on WeChat? Don’t worry, the story is really good. I’ve shown it to my junior brother, and he graduated from Tsinghua University. Right now, he’s working at the Aerospace Institute, so the professionalism is absolutely guaranteed.”

Recently, people or things related to “aerospace” had been appearing in her life with excessive frequency, so much so that her body had already instinctively activated its defense mechanisms.

Could it really be… such a coincidence?

Qin Sang suppressed the fluttering in her heart and said with an air of composure, “Your junior is that impressive?”

“Indeed, my junior is different from me. He’s the favored disciple under my supervisor’s guidance. Do you know about the National Defense Five Institutes?”

Zhou Yihong’s tone carried a hint of shared pride, his eyebrows and eyes brimming with an irrepressible sense of pride.

He smiled and said, “My junior is working there right now, mainly responsible for research in aerospace aerodynamics, including monitoring sensors, overall design and manufacturing of special aircraft, and deep space exploration. I shouldn’t go into too much detail about the specific areas of subdivision.”

Zhou Yihong was suddenly struck by inspiration. To add credibility, he suggested, “How about this—if you have time, Teacher Qin, I can arrange for my junior to meet you. Once you meet him, you’ll see that I’m telling the truth.”