After Being Dumped by the Film Empress, My Acting Skills Soared - Chapter 44

Chapter 44

“She’s fine, just a mild concussion and some superficial injuries,” the doctor said after performing another examination once Shao Niannian regained consciousness.

“It’s a good thing your crew pulled back in time. Otherwise, falling from that height—even onto an air cushion—could have caused internal organ damage. Those kinds of injuries aren’t easily detected until it’s too late.”

After finishing the check-up, the doctor stepped aside for the film crew.

Wen Jing had never seen such a scene. When she heard the screams that the wires hadn’t held, her head buzzed. Her body reacted faster than her mind; her legs went weak as she rushed to the balcony to look. Seeing Niannian fall onto the cushion, her heart felt like it stopped beating for a split second.

The staff around the air cushion were in a chaotic scramble, crowding around to check Niannian’s breathing, not daring to move her body for fear of secondary injuries. Countless voices were calling 120 and screaming for people to clear a path. Eventually, the ambulance arrived, and the medics worked with the crew to transport her from the cushion.

On the way to the hospital, Wen Jing truly thought Niannian was a goner. It wasn’t until the doctor confirmed multiple times that she had simply fainted that Wen Jing’s heart finally settled back into her chest.

When Niannian woke up, her head throbbed. Looking at the clusters of people around her bed, she felt a wave of nausea.

Wen Jing quickly handed her a cup of warm water that the nurse had set aside. “You’ve got a big life in you, but you need to be more careful next time!”

“You were lucky today—no broken arms or legs, just a mild concussion.” Wen Jing glared at her. “I have an investment in this movie. If something happens to you on set, my money goes down the drain!”

“But I’m fine, aren’t I?” Niannian waved her hand dismissively.

As soon as she moved, a sharp, piercing pain shot through her. Niannian’s face contorted. She looked down at her stinging wrist; a large patch of skin was gone, leaving a raw, pinkish wound that stood out against her pale skin.

She pointed at the wound indignantly. “The doctor said ‘minor abrasions’! This is huge! You could flip a pancake on this! Where exactly is the ‘minor’ part?”

Mo Yu, who had been standing by with a heart full of worry, couldn’t help but snap back: “Compared to a memorial tablet sitting on a table for Tomb Sweeping Day, this wound is nothing.”

Niannian: “…”

“Fine. So… does this mean I’ve wrapped?” Niannian turned to Mo Yu, her face lighting up. “Was that last shot good? Can we use it?”

“We can use it…” Mo Yu said in her raspy voice. “It was beautiful. I’ll give you that shot for the promotional poster—a full-sized poster. Your fans will go crazy.”

Niannian was so happy she wiggled on the bed, but the movement jarred her head. She quickly pressed her fingers to her temples as the nausea she’d just suppressed with warm water surged back up. “As long as it’s usable. Then the fall wasn’t for nothing.”

“Right…” Mo Yu sighed. Thinking about the fans and netizens on Weibo who were currently ready to tear her apart, she marveled at Niannian’s good nature. The girl hadn’t even realized this was the crew’s negligence. She wasn’t sure if this temperament was a blessing or a curse.

With Niannian injured, Mo Yu had even more to handle. It was the final stage of filming; who would have expected such an accident? She had to go back, have the prop team find the cause, issue fines, and offer apologies. Compensation for Niannian also had to be arranged. This was something Mo Yu would coordinate with Gao Hui; if she tried to discuss it with Niannian, the girl likely wouldn’t even know how the process worked.

“Get some rest. We’ll see how you feel over the next day or two. If everything is fine, you can be discharged,” Mo Yu said, standing up. “Follow the doctor’s orders.”

“Mm.”

As soon as Mo Yu left, Wen Jing stood up and peeked out the door. Seeing no one, she shut it firmly and returned to the bedside, staring intensely at Niannian until the girl felt uneasy.

“What’s with… that face?”

Wen Jing didn’t beat around the bush. “The news of your injury was caught on camera and leaked. Right now, the entire internet is flooded with pictures of you unconscious on that air cushion.”

Niannian froze, moving her head in a tiny, horizontal shift toward Wen Jing. “Is the picture good? If it’s ugly… can I ask my manager to help with some PR?”

Ugly photos absolutely could not circulate the web. She would literally die of embarrassment.

“It’s fine…” Wen Jing spat out. “No! That’s not what I’m trying to tell you! Stop distracting me.”

“After you fainted, Jiang Yan called Mo Yu to ask about your condition.”

Hearing this, Niannian’s interest piqued instantly. She tried to sit up too fast, causing her head to spin violently. She gripped the bed rail and waited for it to pass. “What do you think that means?”

Niannian listened intently as her “strategist” analyzed the situation. But when Wen Jing finished her suggestion, Niannian waved her hands in a panic. “No way! What you’re saying… it’s too fast.”

Niannian had never been in a relationship. Hearing Wen Jing tell her to just charge in and confess made her eyes widen—it was no different from when Gu Yizhi urged her to “test the waters.”

Wen Jing, however, had her logic ready. “For someone whose coldness comes from her very bones like Jiang Yan, she wouldn’t have called Mo Yu to ask about you unless she’d carved out a space for you in her heart.”

Speaking as someone with experience, Wen Jing stated firmly: “I’m telling you to confess just to let her know clearly: you like her! Let her know your stance!”

“If you don’t go all out once, you’ll always be as timid as you are now whenever you face her.” Wen Jing pulled out Niannian’s phone and shoved it into her hand. “No matter the result, tell her!”

Seeing Niannian hesitate, Wen Jing grew frustrated. “She won’t be filming for the next six months. If you want any intersection with her, you must be the proactive one! A romance without proactivity is like a dry spring in the desert waiting for rain—useless. It’s pure ‘faith-based’ love.”

“Even if you like Platonic love, you have to catch the person first before you can be Platonic!”

Niannian frowned, clutching her phone. “But Zhizhi used to hate it when people pursued her proactively. And…”

For some reason, Niannian felt Wen Jing was being a bit too enthusiastic about this pursuit. It felt strange. Niannian’s voice dropped. “And how do you know Jiang Yan will definitely like me being proactive?”

If Niannian didn’t have a concussion, Wen Jing might have smacked her. “I’m her ex-girlfriend; do you think I don’t know what she’s like?” Wen Jing snorted. “Just listen to me. Show your face more, pester her. Even if the confession fails, don’t give up. Good things take time.”

Most importantly, I’ll help you, Wen Jing added silently. Seeing her plan halfway complete, she felt Niannian’s pursuit of Jiang Yan was far too simple.

Niannian was still hesitating, feeling it wasn’t right.

Wen Jing’s face turned red with anger. She was inches away from grabbing Niannian by the shoulders and shaking her. “I finally know why you’ve stayed in the same spot for ten years and why Jiang Yan doesn’t even recognize you!” Wen Jing’s temper flared, and her polite facade crumbled.

“Everything is ‘wait, wait, wait’ and ‘delay, delay, delay.’ If farmers were like you, they’d starve to death. I don’t know what you’re afraid of. It’s not like someone fell from the sky and drew a circle around your feet, warning they’d kill you if you stepped out!”

“Your personality truly determines your career path.” Wen Jing was livid. She dropped her parting shot and ran out, not caring about the patient. Wen Jing clutched her own chest—her heart was aching with frustration.

“Your career is just like your personality—slow and sluggish. Ten years have passed, and you still don’t dare to take a real risk. That’s why your acting just spins in circles, sometimes good, sometimes bad.”

“Just like your love for Jiang Yan. A secret crush that no one knows about is worthless.”

The door slammed so hard it echoed. Patients and nurses in the hallway turned to look at Wen Jing. Her face flushed, she suppressed her anger and bowed apologetically to those she disturbed. She stood still, venting silently at the air for a moment, before turning and leaving the hospital.

Once she was gone, the ward became deathly quiet. This silence felt familiar—the suffocating, dizzying stillness that had appeared at key moments in her life.

The last time she felt this was when she wanted to switch from studying Chinese painting to acting. She had hesitated for a long time before voicing her thoughts at a family meeting. The first response wasn’t support, but her grandmother slamming the table in opposition.

“Why study such a messy profession? To end up like your mother, nearly ruined by a worthless scoundrel?” The old lady came from a family of scholars and had always opposed her eldest daughter’s screenwriting career. The series of family dramas that followed only deepened her prejudice against the industry.

“It’s a chaotic, unregulated industry. Who knows how much filth is behind the scenes!” The old lady glared at Shao’s mother. “I say you corrupted her. If you hadn’t let her participate in that movie, she wouldn’t have these ideas. Wanting to give up Chinese painting is simply lawless!”

Shao’s mother didn’t mind being scolded, but seeing the anger directed at her daughter made her spike with irritation. Before she could retort, Li Yuan spoke up for his wife and daughter, then sent his young, oblivious daughter to the kitchen for drinks to get her away from the table. As the second son-in-law, Li Yuan had always been well-regarded by the old lady—especially compared to the “scoundrel” before him.

But this time, it didn’t work. The old lady wouldn’t budge. Later, Li Yuan called Niannian to the study and asked her if she was truly certain about giving up painting. She said yes. Back then, Niannian only knew that if she said yes, Li Yuan and her mother would make it happen, even if it meant a falling out with her grandmother. She was too young to realize how hard it was to fight a stubborn, ancient mindset.

Even when her grandmother developed Alzheimer’s, she would stare at Niannian with cloudy eyes and ask, “Are you still studying painting?” When Niannian truthfully said no, the old lady would tell her to get out and never come back. She didn’t have a granddaughter like that.

“…”

Perhaps the room was too quiet, but the piercing tinnitus in Niannian’s ears made her head ache. She covered her left ear, but the buzzing only grew louder, affecting her breathing.

Niannian looked down at her black phone screen. With a slight movement, the bright wallpaper replaced her reflection. It was the silhouette of Jiang Yan from her role as a famous courtesan in Nanjing.

Niannian’s breath hitched. The tinnitus intensified, then screeched like a train braking on tracks. The sound made her hair hurt.

What’s so bad about staying in place? she thought coldly. If you don’t make a big change, you won’t get hurt, and you won’t hurt others.

She looked at her WeChat notifications—messages from Gao Hui, Gu Yizhi, Li Yuan, her mother, and more, all asking if she was okay. She scrolled down past the messages she had already replied to.

She still didn’t see the person she was looking for.