Assistant Bai Really Does Have a Three Year Old Child - Chapter 3

Celebrity entertainers and text translators these two fields seem worlds apart.

However, Bai Tan firmly believed in the theory of “Six Degrees of Separation.”

It refers to the idea that the connection between any two people is generally established through about six individuals; one can meet any stranger through a chain of six people.

Teacher Mei: Do you like Huo Yang very much?

Bai Tan: I don’t like him, but I need him.

Teacher Mei: [Scratches head] Although I don’t quite understand why, I’ll try my best. But don’t get your hopes up too high. After all, an artist of Huo Yang’s caliber is someone ordinary people simply can’t get close to.

Bai Tan: Alright. Regardless of whether it works out or not, thank you for your trouble. I’ll treat you to dinner then.

Teacher Mei left a “You’re too polite” and disappeared.

Two days later.

Teacher Mei: Knock knock, Xiao Tan! The Six Degrees of Separation is amazing.

Teacher Mei had originally thought this matter was pure fantasy. Given Huo Yang’s status, many people in the entertainment industry struggle to even catch a glimpse of him. She hadn’t harbored any real expectations and had only asked around casually.

But she reached out to a colleague, who happened to have a younger sister working as a counselor at a film academy. That sister found a former student who was working as a dance double in the industry. That dance double then contacted an actor they had worked with on the same set, and that actor just happened to have been signed to the same entertainment company as Huo Yang.

Not one more, not one less exactly six people.

Teacher Mei sent over a string of digits:

This is the private number of the CEO of Huo Yang’s entertainment company. I don’t know if it’ll be useful to you, but if you see Huo Yang, please help me get an autograph. [Pleading]

Bai Tan: Thank you, definitely.

Closing the chat box, Bai Tan picked up a notebook from the bookshelf and flipped through it.

As a graduate of fashion design, he seemed to have less formal training compared to other full-time writers. However, Bai Tan believed that diligence could make up for a lack of natural talent. The thick notebook in his hand was nearly full, mostly containing sparks of inspiration or transcriptions of beautiful words and phrases.

A few days ago, he had earnestly finished his current serialized web novel. Like his previous books, it flopped so hard it didn’t even leave a ripple.

Bai Tan reflected deeply on his failure. While the malicious comments were unpleasant, he sought to “take the essence and discard the dregs.” It was undeniable that some suggestions from readers were constructive. Only by listening to advice and reviewing his work could he improve faster; relying solely on copying beautiful phrases yielded mediocre results.

Coupled with his stubborn personality, even after hitting a dead end in the “entertainment industry romance” genre numerous times, he never thought of turning back.

Bai Tan opened a new document to draft a new outline for an entertainment industry novel.

As for the male lead’s character design, he initially set a few keywords:

A man as clear as the moon and wind, a gentle and modest gentleman.

Bai Tan had liked this type of person since he was a child. It was based on the TVB version of Journey to the West he watched as a kid. Although the story strayed from the original and was a bit nonsensical compared to the CCTV version, the Holy Monk in the drama virtuous, radiant, and compassionate toward all living beings had long ago taken root in his heart during his early, confused puberty.

It was also then that Bai Tan realized his sexual orientation seemed different from the other boys around him.

After an internal struggle, he calmly accepted the fact.

Leaving the mainland for Hong Kong to find that TVB actor was impossible. Just as he was searching for a way out, marketing push notifications arrived one after another.

2024’s Most Approachable Male Artist: Huo Yang; 2024’s Top Artist People Want to Marry: Huo Yang; The Artist You’d Most Want to Become if Reborn: Huo Yang.

The name “Huo Yang” seemed to appear with extreme frequency lately.

Whether it was billboards in the streets or overwhelming pushes on the internet, it was always that name. It was as if he were a “traffic code” a single “Huo Yang” could sustain countless content creators.

The food was being fed directly to his mouth; it was hard for Bai Tan not to notice. He, who had always been indifferent to the entertainment circle, took his first serious look at this male artist named Huo Yang.

When taking promotional photos for a movie with a young actress, he would considerately use a folder to cover her skirt, which was a bit too short when she crouched down.

Even when he was in a rush for an interview, if he saw a fan being injured due to being violently driven away by security for chasing a car, he would ignore the time pressure, get out of the car, and kindly ask the fan if they were hurt.

When a male fan shouted “Husband!” at an event, he would smile and respond, “I hope your wish comes true soon.”

Huo Yang always said he hoped everyone would focus more on his acting rather than himself, and he welcomed suggestions to help him fill his gaps and improve. He didn’t put on airs just because one drama had made him a legend.

His humility, gentleness, and attitude toward fans inexplicably made a very exaggerated word pop into Bai Tan’s mind:

Divinity.

Many said he was a god of the acting world; he remained humble, stating he was merely an ordinary person with a bit of good luck.

Bai Tan uncontrollably scrolled through marketing videos, liking him more the more he watched. He felt that Huo Yang was the undisputed archetype for the male lead of his next web novel.

And coincidentally, Bai Tan saw the resignation statement posted on Weibo by Huo Yang’s previous personal assistant.

Only those who seize the opportunity can seize their life.

Huo Yang’s entertainment company hadn’t posted any recruitment notices for an assistant. This industry was full of people with connections; once one assistant left, there were waves of countless people waiting to take the spot.

Bai Tan knew well that even if he took the initiative, his hopes were slim. But if he didn’t even take this step, there would be no hope at all.

Office of the Executive CEO, L.W Media.

Li Wenyan’s eyes were half-closed, his face pale, and thin beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

One hand clutched his upper abdomen while his body instinctively curled forward, slumped over the desk.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

He endured the stomach pain to glance at it. He didn’t know who it was; it was an unsaved local number on his private line.

After a moment of deliberation, he pressed the answer button.

A young, gentle male voice came from the other end:

“Hello, may I ask if you are the person in charge of L.W Media? My name is Bai Tan. I happened to learn that the artist under your company, Huo Yang, is looking for a private assistant. I hope you can give me a moment of your time; I would like to introduce myself…”

Li Wenyan reached out and pressed the end-call button.

One wave had not yet subsided before another rose. He had just picked up a glass, intending to drink some warm water to alleviate the pain, when there was a knock on the office door.

A deep frown etched between Li Wenyan’s brows. He pulled out a tissue to wipe the sweat from his forehead and straightened his back as much as possible before saying, “Come in.”

It was the secretary.

“CEO Li, haven’t you finished work yet?” the secretary asked cautiously, holding a stack of documents.

Li Wenyan didn’t even look at her, saying lowly, “I have a few more documents to handle. You go ahead and leave first.”

The secretary nodded and carefully observed his expression.

After a long pause, she slowly pulled a file from the stack and placed it on the desk:

“CEO Li, that… this is my cousin’s resume. She is a very meticulous girl and has experience being an assistant for other artists. You can take a look at her resume first.”

“I see,” Li Wenyan said tonelessly.

“Then I won’t disturb you. See you tomorrow.” The secretary pushed the resume forward with a smile and then left.

As soon as the secretary left, Li Wenyan’s rigid posture relaxed slightly, and the discomfort from the stomach pain caused him to hunch over involuntarily.

He propped his head with one hand, eyes closed, taking a deep breath. After what felt like half a century, he picked up the resume left by the secretary, flipped through it haphazardly, and threw it into the trash can without even seeing the name.

Here we go again.

Ever since Huo Yang’s previous assistant posted the resignation notice online, he didn’t know how many self-recommendation calls he had received in a day, nor how many employees had smiled as they tried to shove their relatives and friends into the position.

Although the salary for an assistant was fixed regardless of who it was for, these people seemed to think that being Huo Yang’s assistant came with endless perks and opportunities to skim off the top.

The sky outside gradually darkened.

Li Wenyan endured the stomach pain to finish the last work document, turned off the computer, and grabbed his car keys.

Most people in the company had already left. In the empty lobby with its high ceilings, Li Wenyan leaned against the wall, walking extremely slowly.

The stomach pain had been dragged out for too long; by now, the sensation had begun to spread throughout his body, and his legs felt as if they were trembling uncontrollably.

Just as he stepped out of the company entrance, his phone rang again.

He no longer had the energy to deal with those boring self-promoters, so he simply hung up and turned off the phone.

The pain grew more intense, invading his brain and clouding his thoughts. His feet stopped obeying him.

After a dizzying spell, his mind became a complete mess. Once his body lost the commands from his brain, it fell downward, out of control.

“Are you alright?”

In his daze, a male voice that sounded somewhat familiar yet very strange came from nearby.

Li Wenyan propped himself against the wall with one hand and slowly lifted his head.

In the dim light stood a thin, young man. Under the weary chirping of cicadas in the undulating night, his snow-white shirt had not yet fully merged into the darkness, possessing a unique sense of tranquility.

Even though the light was not bright, the young man’s eyes were exceptionally bright. His long eyelashes were stained with a bit of warm night dew, sparkling like falling ornaments.

Li Wenyan lowered his eyes, his voice hoarse:

“I’m fine.”

He tried to focus his strength in his throat to make his voice sound truly okay, but the raspiness betrayed him.

The young man before him looked delicate and clean, like finely polished jade. Perhaps he was some obscure, low-tier artist from the company—there were so many artists that Li Wenyan didn’t have time to remember every face.

The Bai Tan standing before him was holding a thermos.

He quietly observed the tall man in front of him. He was indeed very tall; even as he leaned against the wall, one could feel the pressure brought by his height.

As well as the man’s resistance and rejection of his concern.

Bai Tan nodded and politely said, “Pardon me,” then turned to leave with the thermos.

He stood at the bus stop and saw the bus that led to his home approaching from a distance.

After a moment of hesitation, Bai Tan turned and walked back.

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