**Chapter 21: Resource Sharing**
“Very good, that’s the look—add a bit more seduction, yes, yes, just like that!”
“Remember, he’s the man you admire and love, not your little errand boy.”
“Beautiful!”
“Let’s do another take.”
The set of *Dreams of Old Jinghua* had never been so harmonious before. Director Zhou, known for his hot temper, seemed like a completely changed man—every word out of his mouth was praise.
On the set at the film studio.
Qin Mang and Jiang Hengyan were filming the same scene that had previously gone awry with He Lingzhi. Back then, He had only said one line before the rest of the scene fell apart.
Perhaps it was thanks to Teacher He’s excellent teaching skills, but ever since Qin Mang had been called back early to the set after that “lesson,” it was as though her meridians had been cleared and her acting had reached a new level.
She especially excelled in eye contact and emotional expression—becoming more and more skilled.
Looking at Jiang Hengyan, dressed in a warlord uniform yet still radiating a refined handsomeness, Qin Mang’s mind involuntarily conjured another face—that of an aloof, divine being from beyond the heavens.
That face had an even stronger commanding presence.
He could completely dominate her.
If she were to act alongside He Lingzhi, Qin Mang believed he could carry her to an international Best Actress award.
But even if the world collapsed and the apocalypse came, He Lingzhi would never become an actor.
And he wasn’t suited for it either.
He would easily outshine every scene partner—like the world existed solely for him.
More importantly—
Qin Mang didn’t want to rely on anyone. This was her career. Her dream.
Her thick lashes lowered, veiling a fleeting emotion.
Only when the director called “Good!” did the clarity return to her eyes.
Besides Director Zhou, Jiang Hengyan—her scene partner—felt Qin Mang’s progress the most.
Though he was her peer and had already won Best Actor earlier, Jiang hadn’t thought much of Director Zhou’s praise of Qin Mang’s “natural talent” before.
He’d been praised for his own talent since childhood, after all.
But this time, her rapid transformation surprised even him.
As they watched the playback of the scene together, Jiang Hengyan quietly said, “You really are suited for the big screen.”
“Thank you,” Qin Mang replied, returning the compliment politely. “Your acting is excellent too, Teacher Jiang.”
He truly brought the character’s soul to life—a performance worthy of a Best Actor.
As for He Lingzhi, well, he was just a tool to help her get into character. When it came to actual performance, it was best left to professionals.
After all, Best Actor and Best Actress weren’t just handed out on the street.
Especially ones with real value—those were one in a million.
“Alright, enough mutual flattery,” Director Zhou clapped them both on the shoulder. “Keep building the chemistry. Let’s try to knock out all the emotional scenes while you’re still in the zone.”
He was nervous, afraid Qin Mang’s momentum would suddenly vanish.
After all, she was a naturally gifted actress, not yet a technical one. Feeling mattered.
During the break before her next scene with the third female lead, Qi Rong—
Wait, ever since Shen Wanyin announced her indefinite retirement from showbiz amidst scandal, the director had wisely had the screenwriter revise the script overnight, cutting her scenes down to nearly nothing.
And so, Qi Rong was promoted to the second female lead.
Qi Rong credited all this good fortune to Qin Mang. Every time they met, she would bow to her with devout gratitude.
Sometimes she’d even chant about her rival enemies in the entertainment industry, praying to the “Goddess of Luck Qin” to make those bitches withdraw in disgrace too.
At first, Qin Mang was speechless. Later… she got used to it.
So now, when Qi Rong clasped her hands and bowed again, Qin Mang calmly fanned herself with her little lion-shaped fan while listening to a whole string of names.
It had to be said—the fastest way to bond was to know each other’s secrets.
So after being “forced” to learn Qi Rong’s long list of nemeses, they became much closer.
Due to her doll-like, youthful face, Qi Rong had always been cast in sweet, innocent roles in idol dramas—she was sick of them.
She desperately wanted to try a two-faced, bitchy villainess to hone her acting, which was why she auditioned for the small role of the third female lead in *Dreams of Old Jinghua*. To her fans, this seemed like a step down.
After bowing, Qi Rong squatted beside Qin Mang, sharing her fan.
“Tell me you took time off to fall in love.”
“You’re like a different person.”
“How many boyfriends did it take to make progress this fast?”
She was practically green with envy.
Qin Mang, who didn’t even have words like “social niceties” or “networking” in her vocabulary, had already used up her day’s quota of politeness chatting with the director and Jiang Hengyan. Now, hearing the praise, her radiant face carried a lazy look. “You flatter me.”
Qi Rong didn’t mind, smiling as she pulled out her phone and opened a memo filled with contacts. At the top, it was labeled: “Fish Pond.”
She held it under Qin Mang’s nose. “Come on—let’s share resources.”
Qin Mang gave it a lazy glance—then froze.
“…This is…”
Some of the names looked familiar.
A few were second-generation heirs from wealthy families. While not quite on the level of the Qin and He families, they were definitely top-tier in the eyes of female celebrities.
She hadn’t expected Qi Rong to have their contact info.
“These are the ones I think are decent.”
“Low maintenance, good in bed, and discreet.”
The more she listened, the more Qin Mang felt something was off. “Wait… what kind of resources are we talking about?”
“Men, of course!”
“I remember you have quite a few quality men’s contacts too. If there are any types you’re not into, send them my way!” Qi Rong was referring to the yacht incident footage—where Qin Mang had received a flurry of business cards from outstanding men.
“As long as my net is wide, I’ll eventually catch a rich fish willing to marry me.”
Qin Mang finally understood.
So this was *that* kind of resource sharing. She thought it was acting roles.
Hearing her goal was to marry rich, Qin Mang—herself born into a wealthy family—knew exactly how hard that was. She subtly reminded, “It’s not easy to marry into wealth.”
Qi Rong casually waved her hand. “No big deal. If I can’t marry one, I’ll just sleep with a few. All my fish are hot and skilled. Worth it either way.”
She enjoyed it, after all.
Qin Mang looked at her innocent, doll-like face and paused mid-fan.
Her gaze turned respectful.
So she’s a wild little Lolita with big ambitions.
Wishing her… all the best.
As for “resources,” she really had nothing to share. So far, she’d only slept with He Lingzhi…
“How about it?”
“Wanna trade a few?”
Qin Mang casually picked up a mother-of-pearl fan bone to cover her mouth, then whispered in Qi Rong’s ear, “My guy’s super possessive. He only lets me keep his card, so I gave the rest to my agent.”
She was hinting she already had someone.
So—no resources to share.
However—
Qi Rong suddenly realized, “So you have a steady partner?”
Steady partner?
Qin Mang’s brows twitched. That sounded a bit… weird.
But technically not wrong.
*Dreams of Old Jinghua*’s later filming schedule moved quickly. Qin Mang was increasingly in the zone, completely immersed in the role. Every day she was either reading the script or rehearsing with Jiang Hengyan.
Both were acting junkies—once they got into character, everything else faded away.
For promotion, the official account often released highlight reels.
Of course, they didn’t follow the usual path. While most productions hyped up romance rumors between leads, *Dreams of Old Jinghua*’s teasers were all just Director Zhou yelling:
“Qin Mang, that’s the man you’re in love with—not your little minion!”
“Qin Mang, please act like you love him!”
“Jiang Hengyan, stop grinning! You’re a mighty warlord being treated like a flunky. Have some pride!”
Fans were dying laughing.
They thought this kind of promo was way better than forced romance rumors.
And now they were even more excited for the actual release.
“LOL, what even is *Dreams of Old Jinghua*? These clips make it impossible to ship the leads seriously!”
“When this airs, I *have* to see how you turn a ‘boss lady and her minion’ into a sexy warlord and sultry cheongsam queen pairing!”
“But honestly, this promo is a total fan magnet.”
“My grin is touching my ears watching this.”
“OMG, Qin Mang is such a badass—her bullets shoot Cupid’s arrows instead!”
“Did you catch that fleeting glance on the monitor just now? Ahhh, Qin Mang’s acting is insane—so cool, so gorgeous!”
“Ladies, check out EG’s official account! Ahhh, Qin Mang’s first magazine cover—she’s a mermaid goddess and I’m deceased!”
“OMG, is this a literal fairy descending to earth? *photo.jpg*”
“Qin Mang’s resources are insane lately, huh?”
“Feels like she blew up overnight—in every area.”
“Isn’t EG only for top-tier domestic actresses? And she got the September issue?”
“Last time, she was blacklisted across the internet, and then overnight the narrative flipped. I thought it was strange, like someone powerful was behind her…”
But these suspicions were quickly drowned out by her fans.
Everyone was mesmerized by Qin Mang’s breathtaking beauty.
Until—
10 p.m.
A passerby account posted a thread with photos on the most popular gossip forum in the country.
**#Saw people talking about Qin Mang’s background on the trending topics, suddenly remembered some photos I accidentally took a few months ago#**
**Photos.jpg**
**Original poster:**
“I wanted to watch a movie with my boyfriend, but the private cinema nearby was booked. Just as we were about to leave, we saw a certain director known for his daring art films rush out of the theater. Pic 1.
Almost an hour later, a girl who looked a lot like Qin Mang also walked out. Pics 2 and 3.
My boyfriend’s uncle is the assistant manager of the theater. He said the whole screening was for an old, explicit foreign movie. Pic 4.
I just snapped the photos casually. The girl was young and pretty, the sailor-style top and pleated skirt really stood out and gave off a youthful vibe. I even thought she might be a future ‘Xuan Girl’. I didn’t recognize her as Qin Mang.
And I’m not a hater. If I were, I would’ve posted this back when the whole internet was dragging her.
You guys can judge if it’s her or not. She’s a bit far away—I’m not 100% sure.”
Pic 1: Lin Chenxuan getting into a car.
Pics 2 & 3: Qin Mang speaking with her manager, Meng Ting. Most of her profile is blocked by Meng Ting, but the long, beautiful legs under the pleated skirt look like they came straight out of a manga.
Pic 4: The title of the only movie shown that day.
It was solid evidence.
The passerby wasn’t sure if it was Qin Mang, but the internet’s tiny Sherlocks, armed with their digital magnifying glasses, uncovered everything.
Even the small red mole on Qin Mang’s nose tip—blurred and almost blending with her skin tone—was clearly matched.
The thread was quickly reposted to Weibo and other platforms.
The buzz exploded.
**In the makeup room on set—**
Qin Mang had just wrapped a late-night shoot and looked exhausted as she walked in to see Meng Ting’s grim expression.
“You and Director Lin are trending.”
Without Shen Wanyin, the marketing queen who constantly competed with her for trending topics, Qin Mang herself had now become a regular on hot searches.
Earlier in the day, it was about Jiang Hengyan.
Now at night, it was famous director Lin Chenxuan.
Director Lin?
The incident was months ago—Qin Mang almost forgot who that even was.
Two main speculations trended:
1. **Qin Mang’s backing is top-tier director Lin Chenxuan.**
Lin’s films are niche but popular among cinephiles, and he’s considered the most handsome director in the industry. Once this news broke, rumors exploded.
2. **Some rational fans suggested it might be a collaboration.**
It’s known that Director Lin is obsessed with art films and has had zero scandals for years. Qin Mang, despite having countless elite bachelors in and outside the industry try to pursue her, has maintained a clean record.
**But here’s the catch—**
A young actress watching an explicit movie alone with a director?
It’s either collaboration or something romantic.
Even trying to spin it as “just friends” sounds like a weak PR attempt. The situation was tough to handle, and they needed Lin’s cooperation for any crisis management.
Just as Meng Ting was urgently contacting Lin Chenxuan’s team to draft a PR plan—
Qin Mang received a WeChat message from Director Lin.
The last time they spoke was months ago when she declined the lead role in *Soul Night*.
**Lin Chenxuan:** “Want to reconsider joining my project? I don’t mind waiting for you to finish *Dreams of Old Jinghua*.”
Clearly trying to take advantage of the situation.
Qin Mang stared at her beautiful reflection in the mirror, lips curling coldly, and typed back three words:
**“I mind.”**
**Lin Chenxuan (implied tone):** “This is the entertainment industry, not a child’s game.”
**Qin Mang:** “I’d rather quit and inherit my family business than act in sexually explicit films.”
Originally, she rejected the role due to the script.
Now—
She didn’t want to work with Director Lin at all.
But then—
The CEO of her company, Hezhou Entertainment, posted in his social circle:
**“Working with Director Lin is Qin Mang’s honor.”**
Flat-out denied the scandal and announced the collaboration.
The internet went into a frenzy.
Especially with the news that Qin Mang would star in a risqué film directed by Lin Chenxuan—
**Meanwhile, in a private club in Deep City—**
He Lingji stepped off the boxing ring.
Under the scorching lights, the man was shirtless—his chiseled abs radiating sensual aggression, sweat tracing the lines of his muscles. His face, however, was handsome and aloof, exuding a cold allure like a beast hiding in an icy wilderness.
His companion Wu Yuan had already given up and was slumped on a chair, scrolling through his phone.
When He Lingji finally finished, Wu Yuan looked up as he unwrapped his hand wraps and muttered, “You’re surprisingly chill about this.”
“In plain language?”
He Lingji’s expression remained neutral. Aside from the fierce energy in his muscles and a few bruises on his back and shoulders, he looked unfazed.
Judging by his face, you’d think the intense workout was just a warm-up.
“See for yourself. Your wife is trending for watching an explicit movie alone with another man.” Wu Yuan handed him the phone.
He Lingji didn’t take it, just glanced at the screen. His hand, which had just finished unwrapping the wraps, suddenly paused—then slowly began rewrapping them.
Layer by layer.
Then, without a word, he stepped back into the ring, hands gripping the ropes with ease.
Looking down at Wu Yuan, he raised his gloved fists, motioning.
With a calm, commanding tone: “Get up. One more round.”
An exhausted Wu Yuan: “…”
Does this man not get tired?
**Two hours later—**
He Lingji had showered and changed into a sleek, custom-made black silk shirt. As he buttoned up and walked out, he had completely returned to his refined, ascetic demeanor, showing no sign of emotion.
As if a beast had disguised itself as a man to walk among mortals.
Wu Yuan lay sprawled on the boxing ring, barely alive. He turned his head and asked, “Where are you going?”
**He Lingji:** “To watch a movie.”
You can find the complete translated novel in the link below
