After that incident, Huo Lianshan indeed became much more polite to Luo Ding. His tone softened significantly, and on several occasions, he even offered Luo cold drinks as a gesture of goodwill.
Luo Ding saw through it. Huo was the typical bully—tough on the outside but weak on the inside, someone who feared those stronger than him. This time, the fact that the entire crew stood by Luo made Huo cautious. Unable to gauge the situation clearly, he decided to placate Luo instead. If Luo had been a nobody without influence, it would definitely have been Huo trembling with fear, not the other way around.
Luo Ding accepted Huo Lianshan’s attempts at reconciliation without hesitation. As compensation, Zheng Kezhen adjusted the camera angles for the last two scenes, ensuring Luo Ding had more screen time. Huo knew he’d messed up and didn’t dare complain, though it was obvious he was quietly holding a grudge.
He occasionally vented his frustration in phone calls to his agent.
Huo shared an agent with his wife, Yan Jingjing. Their agent, Jin Xin, was a veteran in the industry, having worked for over a decade. He quickly saw through Huo’s recount of events and scolded him: “You were too impulsive! Our company may have a poor relationship with Yaxing Entertainment, but what does that have to do with you? You’re copying those desperate lower-tier artists trying to please the company?”
Huo had his own problems. His range of roles was limited, and his screen image wasn’t well-liked. Despite his fame, he lacked the potential for further development. Compared to many of the company’s younger artists, he had fewer endorsements and rarely received invitations to public events. He was always typecast as the villain, with no opportunity to try different roles. This career path was becoming more of a dead end by the day.
If he didn’t follow the company’s lead, he feared he would be left behind eventually.
The only thing he regretted was picking Luo Ding as his target. Huo wasn’t a smart man, though he thought he was. But now, even he realized he couldn’t beat Luo.
Jin Xin hung up the phone, sighing. He glanced at the tall woman emerging from the dressing room, her neck adorned with a beautiful necklace. His eyes lit up. “That necklace looks amazing!”
Yan Jingjing touched her slender neck, smiling slightly. “Why do you look so glum?”
Jin Xin explained the situation, and Yan Jingjing scoffed, raising an eyebrow in disdain. “He’s such a fool. I’m so done with him.”
Jin Xin sighed. “In that case, you’d better start planning your next steps.”
Yan Jingjing pursed her lips, then slowly nodded in agreement.
******
Duan Xiubo had been maintaining a habit of calling Luo Ding about once a week. He didn’t want to seem too eager. Since Luo left the crew, Duan’s daily life had lost much of its fun. Apart from filming, he spent most of his time alone, either browsing the internet or daydreaming, occasionally fulfilling some PR duties for the company.
Every day, he searched for new updates about Luo Ding on social media, using his name as a keyword. Naturally, he saw the GIF of Luo Ding’s costume test for *The Tang Dynasty*. He immediately downloaded the image and backed it up on his laptop. Then, thinking for a moment, he registered a new Weibo account under a different phone number and secretly followed a few accounts that had previously posted news about Luo.
The film festival venue was bustling with activity. To avoid being harassed, the big stars, including Duan, all had private rooms. Curled up on a soft couch in his room, Duan quietly browsed his phone.
A new post from the makeup artist he was following popped up: “Tsk, the world is cold. Poor thing. Don’t worry, we’re all on your side in the crew. Some people… just let them be.”
The account had gained quite a few of Luo Ding’s fans by posting behind-the-scenes tidbits. As soon as this new post went up, the comments section exploded with fans asking what had happened.
The blogger replied to one comment: “I feel for Luo Ding. Don’t worry. His future is bright, and he’ll have his day.”
Duan Xiubo’s eyes widened. He double-checked his username to confirm he was still on his new account and hurriedly posted a comment: “Was Luo Ding bullied?”
But the comment didn’t go through. Frowning, he refreshed the page, only to find that the post had already been deleted and replaced with a new one: “I’m worried too, but fans should stay calm. It’s not wise to stir up trouble with seniors. All we can do is support him silently and help him rise to a point where no one can bully him anymore.”
Duan Xiubo immediately closed his phone and called Luo Ding.
Luo was in the middle of shooting his final scenes, so Wu Fangyuan answered. After the incident with Huo Lianshan, Luo had initially asked Wu to help Gu Yaxing with the EP preparations. But after what happened, Gu wasn’t comfortable leaving Luo alone on set, so he insisted that Wu stay with him, even if only for a few days.
Wu Fangyuan, who had been furious when he first learned about the incident, had since become better at controlling his emotions, thanks to Luo’s training. He often responded to Huo’s assistants with a polite but cold smile, avoiding any overt conflicts. He knew they couldn’t afford to let the public catch wind of the situation, but that didn’t stop the frustration from building up inside him. Duan’s phone call was a welcome relief, and Wu wasted no time spilling everything.
The more Duan Xiubo heard, the darker his expression became. His brows knitted tightly as he thought about how Luo had narrowly avoided being whipped and sent to the hospital in place of that unlucky horse. Anger surged through him, nearly choking him with rage.
He instructed Wu to take good care of Luo and hung up, unable to sit still. Logging back into his alternate Weibo account, he scrolled through the cryptic messages from the makeup artist. Even though crew members didn’t need to be as careful with their words as actors, they usually avoided getting involved in conflicts. The fact that this veteran makeup artist had openly expressed sympathy for Luo and hinted that the entire crew was on his side showed just how vile Huo’s actions had been.
Duan Xiubo had risen to fame early, but he knew what it was like to be overlooked. His first movie was a Hollywood production, and the local film market in the West was fiercely protective of its own. As an unknown Asian actor, Duan had faced discrimination. Some even tried to teach him a lesson. Although Duan had fought back and dragged many of them down with him, he had still suffered from their pettiness. He knew all too well the bitterness of being privately targeted. Even the strongest-willed person would get angry, and for those more fragile, the feelings of injustice would be even worse.
How could he sit still? Duan began pacing around the room, his face clouded with frustration. If it weren’t for the upcoming events, he would have already been on his way to the set to confront Huo Lianshan.
Huo Lianshan…
Duan Xiubo had never heard of him before, but now that name was seared into his mind.
A light knock sounded at the door. Mi Rui poked his head in, adjusting his glasses. “Brother Duan, you have a visitor.”
Duan Xiubo’s expression instantly shifted to a calm, friendly smile, as if he hadn’t been pacing moments ago. Mi Rui, knowing him well, had only brought someone who was worth his time.
The door opened to reveal a tall woman in a silver silk gown, her features delicate and her smile sweet.
“Hi,” Yan Jingjing greeted Duan shyly, her gesture reserved. “Brother Duan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ve crossed paths before. I had a cameo in *Mecha Planet*.”
Duan stared at her for a second, not remembering who she was, but his demeanor remained warm and polite. “Of course, I remember. It’s been a while, and you’re looking even more beautiful.”
A light blush crept behind Yan Jingjing’s ears. Duan Xiubo’s handsome features, refined manners, and mysterious background made him a dream figure in the entertainment industry—better than marrying into wealth. After all, most rich men were no longer young. The excesses of their lifestyles often left them overweight, sick, and arrogant, and their wives had to constantly console themselves to endure it.
By contrast, Duan was handsome, tall, healthy, and young. His gentlemanly demeanor reflected his good upbringing, and his approachable demeanor suggested he wasn’t hard to get along with.
Even though Yan Jingjing was already married, she couldn’t help but be a little smitten.
Of course, she had a purpose in seeking Duan out. Rumor had it that *Blade Warrior III* was in the works. Whether or not the rumor was true, it had sparked interest among actors. Yan Jingjing had already made it into the A-list in China, but she held the lowest spot among the four leading actresses. Unlike the other three, who had more seniority and established careers, she felt insecure in her position. Without a major endorsement or an award-winning film that truly showcased her talent, she knew her position was precarious.
She needed to broaden her resources, and breaking into Hollywood was the best, quickest way to do that. After all, Hollywood had become the go-to place for Chinese actors looking to add prestige to their resumes. Yan Jingjing had experienced this firsthand when her cameo in *Mecha Planet* had significantly boosted her standing. Now, she had her sights set even higher.
In this respect, she was envious of Duan’s connections. *Blade Warrior II*, in which Duan had starred, had ended with a cliffhanger, strongly suggesting that he would continue in the third installment. If the rumors of a third film were true, Duan was her only link to it.
Duan, long accustomed to such encounters, showed no signs of impatience. He quickly put Yan at ease with his warm demeanor, all the while hiding his simmering frustration. As they talked, she eventually mentioned a name that made him pause.
“Huo Lianshan?” Duan looked at her. “I didn’t realize you were married, Yan. Your husband is Huo Lianshan?”
Yan Jingjing felt a twinge of embarrassment. Her agent, Jin Xin, had always reminded her to casually mention her marriage to boost her image as a loyal wife. However, when Duan singled out Huo’s name and seemed lost in thought, she began to feel nervous.
Sipping her tea, she said cautiously, “Yes, he made some mistakes when he was younger… Brother Duan, have you heard of him?”
Duan let out a laugh, his tone far from complimentary. “I’ve heard of him. Bit of a temper, doesn’t he?”
“…What?” Yan Jingjing was confused.
Duan leaned back slightly, his smile tightening. “He’s working on *The Tang Dynasty* right now, isn’t he? My younger brother happens to be in the same production. They had a bit of a run-in recently…”
Duan took a sip of water, his eyes fixed on Yan. “During filming, your husband attacked my brother with a whip.”
Yan’s hand almost slipped, spilling water on her skirt. Fortunately, it was only plain water, so it didn’t ruin the fabric.
Her face turned pale, and panic filled her eyes. “Is there… could there have been a misunderstanding? I… I…” She stammered, unable to continue. Huo had never been shy about flaunting his status in front of her. Given his temper and intelligence, it wasn’t hard to imagine him doing something as reckless as attacking a fellow actor.
Duan’s smile quickly returned, his tone apologetic as he waved a hand. “I’m not blaming you. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you’re responsible for his actions. I won’t hold it against you.”
Yan forced a pale smile, but the way she wiped the water from her skirt betrayed her growing frustration.
The sharp clack of her high heels echoed in the hallway as she walked, both clear and heavy.
With no one around, Yan forced herself to maintain a composed smile, though her face looked anything but calm.
Jin Xin, hurrying to catch up, sighed repeatedly before offering some comfort: “Don’t worry. From what I saw, Brother Duan seemed to like you. He won’t hold what Huo did against you.”
“That’s not the point!” Yan Jingjing gritted her teeth. “There’s only one opportunity here, and everyone’s fighting for it. Whoever wins a bit of favor has the upper hand. Duan was just being polite. If he hadn’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t have known that idiot was throwing his weight around again!”
Jin Xin hurriedly whispered, “Lower your voice! Walls have ears…”
Yan Jingjing’s eyes reddened briefly before she regained her composure. Her tone cold, she instructed Jin Xin: “Call Huo Lianshan.”
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