The scale of the airport fan meet-up made it onto several major entertainment news outlets. Compared to past coverage on various websites, this marked a significant boost in exposure.
On TV, a cheerful local anchorwoman reported on Luo Ding’s sudden rise to fame, her voice brimming with excitement. The footage then cut to last night’s airport scene, where the host’s tone became even more enthusiastic. “It’s so heartening to see a domestic star garnering such popularity. After a long flight, Luo Ding appeared a bit tired but still smiled politely and thanked his fans. The crowd was remarkably well-behaved, which is something we should praise and encourage. Anyway, good luck, Luo Ding! I’ll definitely be supporting your new EP!”
The host’s lighthearted style had the entire car laughing.
Pan Yiming covered her mouth. “Oh, I’m so jealous! The biggest fan reception I’ve ever had was a few hundred people when I came back to town after an event in Hong Kong. And they were still all over me! But look at you—thousands of fans, and you even get praised for how orderly it was. The difference is real.”
Luo Ding turned back to the window, feeling helpless. “Stop teasing me.”
Wu Yuan, who had an arm around Luo’s shoulders, was more worried about his health. “You’re still so pale. You’ve been resting all day and haven’t recovered. What were you doing abroad, anyway? Why’d you push yourself so hard?”
“An audition.” Luo Ding didn’t hide the truth. “For a role in *Blade Warrior III*.”
“…” Wu Yuan paused for a long half-minute before speaking slowly. “Do me a favor and repeat that. I feel like I might have misheard something…”
Pan Yiming also looked bewildered. “I feel like I just heard a pretty big name.”
Luo Ding smiled. “You didn’t mishear. It’s *Blade Warrior III*, but it’s not a big role.”
“Holy crap!” Wu Yuan howled. “I swear, you’re getting more and more punchable. Everywhere you go, you’ve got this vibe like ‘come and hit me!’ ‘Not a big role’? Is that the point here?! It’s *Blade Warrior*! A Hollywood blockbuster! Where did you even get the chance to audition?!”
“Remember that voice recording I sent you a while ago? Clovi, the director, was at Shan Hai Tower at the same time, and that’s how we met.” Luo Ding downplayed the whole situation, keeping some of the truth to himself. While his connection with Duan Xiubo certainly gave him more leverage, it was better for fewer people to know. Otherwise, it would lead to endless trouble later on.
Wu Yuan’s eyes were green with envy. “Your luck is off the charts! So, you went to Hollywood this time? How was it? Did you meet any big stars?!”
Luo Ding nodded and shared the story of Tommy Lee rolling his eyes at him, which immediately dampened Wu’s excitement.
“Turns out prima donnas are everywhere, huh? Forget it, forget it. I haven’t even made a splash in the domestic film scene yet, so I won’t go chasing dreams that are too far away. Luo Ding, I’m rooting for you. Getting an audition for a big movie is already a great start. The more people you meet, the more opportunities you’ll get. I have a feeling you’re going places!”
Neither Wu Yuan nor Pan Yiming thought to ask about the details of Luo Ding’s audition, not because they didn’t care, but because they unconsciously assumed it wasn’t necessary.
Every time a Chinese artist landed a role in a Hollywood blockbuster, it made waves. The lucky few were always top-tier domestic stars who had already cemented their place in the film industry. For someone at Luo Ding’s level, just getting the chance to try out was incredibly rare. Everything they knew told them that it was almost impossible for a small actor to break into Hollywood with a single audition.
Asking whether he succeeded would only add awkwardness to the situation. As his friends, they wouldn’t be that inconsiderate.
Luo Ding opened the car window slightly, letting in some fresh air as the vehicle crawled through the city’s notoriously bad traffic.
They were on their way to record a program related to *Tang Legend* at Mandarin TV. Normally, such shows only invited the male and female leads, but Luo Ding’s inclusion was already an acknowledgment of his rising popularity by the media.
Mandarin TV was second only to the official state broadcaster, with extremely high standards. Its various variety shows consistently boasted top ratings in the country, and each time they launched a new program, it set off a wave of imitation across other networks.
They had money, talent, resources, and connections.
As Luo Ding entered the lounge, surrounded by people, it was clear he was now someone who couldn’t be ignored. The backstage assistant approached him cautiously, asking about his preferences. Luo Ding smiled and said, “Just plain water is fine.”
The assistant looked to be in her early twenties, with rosy cheeks, almond-shaped eyes, and shiny black hair that fell just past her shoulders.
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Luo Ding. Seeing that he was so easygoing, she nervously asked, “Could I… take a picture with you?”
“Of course.” It was a small gesture, and Luo Ding happily obliged.
“I’m actually your fan!” She clutched her phone, looking like she was on the verge of tears. Struggling to hold back her emotions, she added in a small voice, “I usually try to be really professional, and I didn’t want to bother you, but it’s such an honor to be assigned to help you today. I didn’t expect you to be so kind… I’m just…”
She scurried off with quick little steps.
The level of care from the staff noticeably increased after that.
As Pan Yiming opened her meal box, she laughed. “Whoa! Oxtail soup. Mandarin TV’s meal boxes are notoriously bad. I’ve been here so many times with Wu Yuan, and we’ve never had something this fancy.”
Wu Yuan glanced over and agreed. “Honestly, I rarely run into my own fans in the media world. Luo Ding, you’re lucky. Yesterday, when I was at an event, at least three different reporters asked me to get your autograph for them.”
Pan Yiming had apparently experienced something similar. The three of them discussed it at length, but they couldn’t quite figure out how this phenomenon of “fans everywhere” had come about.
There was a gentle knock on the door.
Thinking it was an assistant, Luo Ding checked with Wu Yuan and Pan Yiming before calling out, “Come in.”
He was facing away from the door, just picking up a piece of food with his chopsticks, when he noticed that both Pan Yiming and Wu Yuan were staring in a strange way.
Turning his head, his appetite immediately dropped.
“Hi,” Su Shengbai waved cheerfully from the doorway, pushing Xu Zhen in a wheelchair. “Long time no see, Yiming, Wu Yuan, Luo Ding. I heard you were here for the show, and sure enough, here you are. What a coincidence.”
Xu Zhen was a well-known and respected figure in the industry, so both Pan Yiming and Wu Yuan immediately stood up and greeted him respectfully. “Hello, Director Xu. Hi, Su Shengbai.”
Though none of them were particularly close to Su Shengbai, his casual demeanor instantly closed the distance between them. With the added weight of Xu Zhen’s status, they were happy to act friendly.
Luo Ding stood up slowly, his greeting much more distant compared to Pan Yiming and Wu Yuan.
After some small talk, Su Shengbai wheeled Xu Zhen into the lounge.
Xu Zhen smiled patiently as he responded to Pan and Wu’s concerned inquiries about his health, but his eyes never strayed far from Luo Ding.
Luo seemed indifferent to their arrival, only responding when directly addressed by Wu Yuan. The rest of the time, he was entirely focused on his meal. However, Xu Zhen didn’t sense any hostility from him—only apathy and disinterest.
It had been a long time since Xu Zhen had experienced this kind of treatment, and it felt strangely novel.
Luo Ding ate with great concentration, finishing each bite before picking up the next. As he chewed, he stared at the rice in his bowl, his cheeks slightly puffed as he quickly worked through each mouthful. His eyes were focused as if he were contemplating which part of the meal to eat next.
The more Xu Zhen watched, the more distracted he became.
Luo Ding’s little eating habits were so much like Cao Dingkun’s. The guilt Xu had been suppressing for so long suddenly surged within him. The longer that long-lost person had been gone, the more Cao’s memory occupied Xu Zhen’s mind. Though Cao had faded from the public eye, any reminder of him sent Xu down a path of recollection.
Until he reached the painful scar that always held him back.
Xu Zhen’s gaze darkened, his hand tightening around the wheelchair’s armrest.
“Luo Ding,” Xu smiled kindly, his eyes squinting slightly, “Is the food good?”
Wu Yuan thought Xu was upset that Luo Ding had ignored him and quickly nudged his friend, signaling him to stop staring at his plate.
Luo Ding slowly spat out a piece of bone, covering his mouth with practiced grace. “Not bad.”
“Hahahaha!!” Xu suddenly burst into laughter, for reasons no one else could understand. After laughing, his mood seemed to lift. He turned to Su Shengbai. “Tell the assistant to bring our food over here. You don’t mind if we eat together, do you?”
Of course, neither Wu Yuan nor Pan Yiming minded. Actors didn’t often have the chance to interact with directors, so they were more than happy to sit together.
Luo Ding quietly put down his chopsticks without saying a word. He had already finished eating, so he didn’t feel the need to refuse.
Xu Zhen noticed this gesture. He hadn’t sensed any hostility from Luo Ding, but it did seem like he wasn’t particularly fond of him.
Xu Zhen knew that Luo Ding had been Su Shengbai’s partner in the past, but after they had gone solo, he hadn’t heard Su mention him again. Now that Luo Ding was back in the public eye, he appeared to still be on good terms with Su Shengbai.
Xu Zhen had already seen through Su Shengbai’s true nature. Now, it was becoming clear that Su was increasingly using Luo Ding as leverage to support himself, skillfully keeping Luo under his thumb.
Xu Zhen didn’t trust Su, but he needed to keep him close. Until the film they were working on was finished, their fates were intertwined—if one fell, they would both fall.
But that didn’t stop him from growing more and more resentful of Su Shengbai.
At this point, even the smallest incident could trigger Xu’s imagination. After so many escalating verbal and even physical confrontations between them, he couldn’t help but wonder if Su had leaked information about their issues. Or, worse yet, had he told Luo Ding?
Otherwise, how could he explain Luo Ding’s apparent reluctance to engage with him—a director he had never interacted with before?
Xu Zhen’s eyes darkened, though his expression remained calm as he continued chatting with Wu Yuan and Pan Yiming about the upcoming audition promotion for *The Assassin*. He even invited them to try out for roles if they had the time.
Luo Ding quietly excused himself, saying he needed to wash his hands. He set down his chopsticks and smiled politely before leaving the room.
Xu Zhen’s gaze followed him out, while still keeping an eye on Su Shengbai.
It wasn’t long before Su Shengbai found an excuse to leave the room, claiming he needed to check with the assistant about getting some soup.
Just as Xu Zhen had suspected!
Furious, Xu gripped his chopsticks tightly. Su Shengbai had been hiding something all along!
Good thing… he had come prepared.
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