“Yanyan Gege, look over here!”

“Ji Yang! Ji Yang!”

“Oh my god, I’m going to faint. He looked this way! He looked this way!”

“Ahhhhhh!”

The opening ceremony for Operation Anti-Drug was a massive event, with fans holding up illuminated signs, squeezing forward, and shouting with all their might. Security was struggling to maintain order amidst the crowd’s fervor.

Ji Yang appeared in a light blue knitted sweater, cropped denim pants, and white sneakers, complemented by a pair of sunglasses. The outfit made him look youthful, yet he carried an air of calm maturity.

As he walked, the fans’ screams grew louder and more frenzied. Despite his rare public appearances and lack of direct interaction with fans, his works had always been his preferred means of communication.

The number of people who adored him only ever grew.

Fan cries echoed in waves. Their faces flushed as they screamed at the top of their lungs. Ji Yang, surrounded by a group of security guards, suddenly stopped walking.

He glanced around and put a finger to his lips, gesturing for silence, then pointed to his throat. In his deep, magnetic voice, he said, “Take care of your vocal cords. Don’t let them get strained.”

If anything, that only made the crowd scream even louder. The staff were practically covering their ears—wasn’t that like telling a kid not to touch candy?

The fans, however, were ecstatic.

Ji Yang had spoken to them! He had shown he cared!

This was a moment of pure “motherly pride,” as fans would say—so touching it brought tears to their eyes.

At the press conference

Xu Wan spotted Xu Ruier. Contrary to her expectations, Xu Ruier didn’t appear haggard. Her complexion was rosy and glowing, and she wore a faint smile as she sat next to Xu Yuan, the director, as one of the lead supporting actresses.

In stark contrast, Xu Wan, playing a less significant role, was seated off to the side. Beneath the table, her hands clenched tightly into fists, her sharp nails digging into her palms. Despite the seething resentment within her, she maintained a graceful and elegant smile.

As expected, most of the reporters’ questions centered around Ji Yang, even veering into personal topics. After all, he had managed to maintain a spotless reputation in the entertainment industry for years, known as a paragon of integrity and restraint.

“Please focus on the work. There’s no rush for anything else,” Ji Yang replied calmly.

“And what kind of woman do you like? Do you have a specific standard in mind?” a reporter pressed further.

The question made everyone—fans, actresses, and attendees alike—perk up. Xu Wan allowed a subtle smile to creep onto her lips. Ji Yang had once told her he admired her independence and gentle demeanor, comparing her to a crimson rose and a soft lily.

The thought that such a man had expressed admiration for her filled her with pride.

“Honestly, love isn’t about standards,” Ji Yang said with a light chuckle. “When you meet the right person, all the so-called standards just become irrelevant.”

“But if I had to name one, I’d say I like gentle and quiet girls. Still, they should be strong and principled at their core.”

He paused for a moment, then added with a playful smile, “Of course, what matters most is that I like them.”

The final comment elicited laughter from the audience. Xu Ruier bowed her head slightly, her cheeks tinged with pink as her heart raced.

She had once asked him the same question.

She remembered his response clearly: “When I like someone, her strengths become more radiant, and even her flaws become endearing.”

Xu Wan, however, found herself dissatisfied with Ji Yang’s answer. She felt it didn’t align perfectly with her image.

The conversation shifted as another reporter directed their question toward Xu Yuan.

“Xu Ruier is a newcomer. What made you choose her to participate in this film?”

“Purity,” Xu Yuan replied succinctly. He elaborated, “Though Xu Ruier is new, she’s professionally trained and holds a master’s degree in acting from T University in T Country. She was selected through auditions, and I personally believe she’s a perfect fit for the role. I trust her, and I trust my own judgment. Everyone has unlimited potential.”

This statement undoubtedly earned Xu Ruier significant recognition.

The reporters then turned to Xu Ruier.

“What are your thoughts about being cast in this film?”

Xu Ruier replied, “First of all, I do feel pressure. But I’m incredibly grateful to the director for trusting me. I’ll give it my all and hope not to let anyone down.”

Applause filled the room.

The female roles in Ji Yang’s films generally had limited screen time. Apart from Xu Ruier, there was another newcomer, Chen Han, also chosen by Director Xu Yuan. However, most fans cared little about the actresses; their focus was entirely on Ji Yang and the storyline.

As a result, Xu Wan ended up as little more than a background prop throughout the event.

After the press conference aired, controversy broke out. The first to react were Xu Wan’s fans. As she was a traffic star known for starring in idol dramas, her fanbase consisted mostly of young and often irrational followers.

Both these newcomers landed lead roles?

Unacceptable!

Fans accused the director and production team of disrespecting their idol.

What followed was a heated war of words, starting with Chen Han and soon targeting Xu Ruier. Articles and alleged insider reports emerged online, accusing Xu Ruier of “climbing the ladder” and using underhanded means to secure her role.

Compared to Chen Han’s short hair and casual demeanor, Xu Ruier’s white dress and pure, innocent appearance seemed to trigger the envy of the haters.

“Oh, this white lotus!”

“Playing weak to attract sympathy? Climbing into every judge’s bed to win a role? Girls, let’s go! Rip this green tea b***h apart!”

A whirlwind of hate calling for Xu Ruier to leave the entertainment industry erupted online. Some even vowed to boycott the film entirely.

Boycott!

Ji Yang’s fans, however, were not having it.

Their idol had finally returned with a new film. Why should they let anyone ruin it?

The opposing camps clashed.

After much back and forth, both sides found common ground: focus their ire on Xu Ruier. She was the common scapegoat who could be blamed without derailing the film.

Who cared if she was innocent or not?

Xu Wan watched the situation unfold on her phone with a faint smile. She had hired a few paid trolls masquerading as fans, and the effect was obvious. Popping a plump grape into her mouth, she savored its sweetness, thoroughly satisfied with the outcome.

The results pleased her. No director, no matter how esteemed, could avoid the pull of capital. Xu Ruier might have impressed Xu Yuan, but with so much trouble brewing, even if she completed filming, she would surely face significant emotional and professional setbacks.

“Wan’er, I made some donkey-hide gelatin soup for you. Drink it while it’s hot,” Xu Ping said as she entered the room, carrying a small bowl.

“Thanks, Mom,” Xu Wan replied sweetly, taking the bowl with a smile.

“You should check in on that troublesome girl more often,” Xu Ping remarked with a frown. “Running away without a word and causing a scene! I don’t know how you let her get this way!”

Xu Ping had no sons and already bore the brunt of the family’s disdain. With Xu Wan’s uncle managing a large company and her own family bringing little to the table, Xu Ping faced relentless criticism from her in-laws.

“I saw Ruier today at the press conference for the film’s launch. She’s doing fine, so there’s no need to worry, Grandma,” Xu Wan said, seemingly out of kindness.

But her words had the opposite effect.

Grandma Xu’s eyes widened with anger.

Doing fine?

Wasn’t that tantamount to cutting ties with the family?

“Ruier called me,” Xu Ping said nervously, trying to cover. “She said the script had been assigned long ago, so she had no choice but to take the role. She promised she’d come back to the company soon.”

Grandma Xu snorted disdainfully.

At that moment, Xu Wan’s phone buzzed with a notification. She glanced at it, her gaze sharpening, before she looked up with a soft smile. “Mom, if Ruier has her own interests, let her be. She doesn’t have to join the company if she doesn’t want to. Dad can handle things for now. You should focus on taking care of yourself and having a little brother for us. The company will need him to inherit it one day.”

The suggestion pleased Xu Ping, who had always favored the idea of having a son.

“Ruier is just playing around. What does she know about acting? She’s just messing around!”

Xu Ping couldn’t risk a rift between Xu Wan and Xu Ruier affecting her position, so she quickly smoothed things over.

“That’s not acceptable,” Xu Wan replied gently. “Ruier has already signed with a studio for several years. During that time, she has to follow their arrangements. If she enjoys it, let her be.”

“What?!”

“She signed a contract?”

Xu Ping froze, while Grandma Xu’s voice rose sharply. “What do you mean she has to follow their arrangements for several years? What about getting married?”

Grandma Xu had already lined up several potential matches for Xu Ruier, planning to marry her into a wealthy family and use the connection to benefit the Xu family.

“Ruier wouldn’t do that, right?” Xu Ping tried to explain.

“She didn’t tell you? It’s already all over the internet,” Xu Wan said with feigned surprise, adding, “She probably didn’t think it was a big deal. Don’t worry; if it’s a problem, we can terminate the contract later.”

Grandma Xu erupted in fury, while Xu Ping, caught in the crossfire, grew increasingly frustrated with Xu Ruier.

The fallout reached Xu Dong and Grandpa Xu. Xu Ruier’s decision to sign a contract without consulting the family was seen as a direct challenge to their authority.

This called for swift and harsh suppression. She needed to be taught her place and reminded to follow the family’s plans obediently.

Back in her room, Xu Wan scrolled through her phone, her expression darkening with icy hatred.

The headline read: “Xu Ruier Officially Signs with Ji Yang’s Studio Today”

Ji Yang’s studio issued a statement, praising Xu Ruier’s talent and expressing hopes for a fruitful collaboration, wishing her success in the new film.

The comments quickly shifted tone:

Ji-ge is the best:
“Ji Yang has excellent taste. Anyone calling for her to be banned is picking a fight with our Sunshine Family!”

I’m Ji-ge’s little pillow:
“What’s wrong with Xu Ruier? She has a master’s degree in acting! Some non-professionals should stop jumping around. Laughable.”

Ji Yang, let me have your babies:
“Focus on the work! If you don’t want to watch, don’t. We’ll buy extra tickets ourselves!”

Just love you:
“Boycott Ji Yang? Think carefully. If we start a fan war, you’ll regret it!”

Ji Yang’s fiercely protective fans quickly silenced Xu Wan’s camp.

Soon after, the studio released Xu Ruier’s audition footage, along with subtle PR strategies to shift public opinion. Many now expressed anticipation for Xu Ruier’s performance.

However, while this storm settled, trouble for Xu Ruier was far from over.

She had changed her phone number, but Xu Ping managed to contact the studio and forced a call through. When Xu Ruier answered, she was met with her mother’s tearful voice.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Xu Ruier asked anxiously. Despite their strained relationship, she couldn’t ignore her mother’s distress.

After hearing Xu Ping’s frantic words, she hung up and hurried out the door.

“Hey, we need to head to the set soon. Where are you going?” her manager, Ding Hai, stopped her, frowning.

“I have something urgent to handle. Please take my luggage to the airport. I’ll join the crew directly,” Xu Ruier explained, her tone urgent.

Ding Hai sighed but relented. “Fine. Be careful, and make sure you’re on time. If you miss the group trip into the mountains, it’ll be a hassle for you alone.”

Xu Ruier nodded, quickly donning a mask before running out.

Other Novels