Can't Hide My Love for You - Chapter 41

“President Chi, here are the profiles of the artists willing to attend the auction so far. Please take a look.”

Si Wen handed her a tablet, and Chi Yi began to review it carefully.

“Quite a few, ten already.” Chi Yi was a bit surprised. A few days ago, only two artists had confirmed their attendance: Chen Xuan and Song Zheng.

“Yes,” Si Wen nodded. “Thanks to you, President Chi, communications with the artists have been much smoother these past few days, so we’ve added several more.”

“Me?” Chi Yi asked, puzzled. “What did I do?”

“Didn’t Future City trend on the search rankings for Gratitude Day? Before that, things weren’t going smoothly. Many felt our foundation lacked reputation and were making excuses,” Si Wen paused, then continued, “After we hit the trending list, those artists saw the traffic. They’re likely a bit envious of the treatment Teacher Cheng received with the outdoor advertisements. Communication became much easier after that.”

“How we arrange things will depend on the final list of attendees. However, President Chi, looking at the current list, the project team is hoping to invite a heavyweight artist to anchor the event.”

“You mean Huang Xinxi, right?” Chi Yi saw through her thoughts immediately. “I’ve already contacted her. she’s been quite busy lately, but we’ve scheduled a meeting for tomorrow.”

“Huang Xinxi is a very influential senior in the entertainment industry. If she attends, I think it will attract many A-list stars.”

“Is it really that exaggerated?”

“It is,” Si Wen explained, knowing Chi Yi wasn’t familiar with the industry’s inner workings. “Huang Xinxi debuted as a child star and has incredible public favor. She’s been famous for nearly 30 years. Even though she’s mostly in semi-retirement, she still has many loyal fans, and every project she’s done has a great reputation. Many brands are dying to collaborate with her.”

“Put it this way: while other domestic actors are still fighting to reach the A-list, Huang Xinxi had already secured a global endorsement for Grace and was invited to be a judge at international film festivals.”

“There’s a hierarchy in the entertainment industry. For a senior like Huang Xinxi, even being able to exchange contact info is something people brag about on shows. So, if she attends, many artists would come just to get a photo with her. Even Han Lian has publicly stated that her favorite actor is Huang Xinxi.”

Mentioning Han Lian, Si Wen knew Chi Yi had a few grievances with her due to Han Lian’s hostility toward Cheng Yixin. She added, “If Han Lian is willing to attend, regardless of her motives, as long as we raise more for charity, it’s beneficial to us.”

“I know.” Chi Yi glanced at the time and handed the tablet back. “We’ll know the results after I talk to Huang Xinxi tomorrow.”

“I’m heading out now,” the President stated.

Si Wen glanced at the clock; it was five minutes until five. A President in the honeymoon phase of a relationship was exceptionally eager to leave work.

“Going to pick up Teacher Cheng?” Si Wen asked. “I’ll have Xiao Wu bring the car around.”

“No need, I’ll drive myself.”

As she spoke, Chi Yi picked up her car keys. Si Wen noticed something new on the keychain, encased in a transparent shell: it was the safety amulet Chi Yi used to treasure in her wallet.

Even though the amulet had been well-preserved, the marks of time were unmistakable; the red fabric had faded significantly. Si Wen had seen it once before and, not knowing its significance, suggested getting a new one. Chi Yi had simply smiled and said a “Sister” had given it to her and she didn’t want to lose it.

Judging by the wear, it had been kept for several years. Now, she was hanging it right next to the little deer charm her girlfriend had given her—she clearly wasn’t afraid of her girlfriend getting jealous.

The President, who left five minutes early, arrived at Cheng Yixin’s work site half an hour later.

Today, Teacher Cheng was playing a bit part at the film base. Xinyu Media wanted to promote a newcomer as the lead, and the director hoped Cheng Yixin would make a cameo. Since the role was small and would only take half a day to film, she agreed.

Chi Yi had never visited the film base and didn’t know she needed a pass. Just as she was about to enter, a staff member stopped her. Helpless, she called Cheng Yixin, but Xiao Yu answered. Upon learning the President was blocked at the gate, Xiao Yu sent someone to bring her in.

While waiting, Chi Yi stood at the gate of the film city. The base primarily hosted Republican-era or historical dramas, so the architecture was mostly traditional Chinese. The gate looked like the entrance to a scenic park.

A van pulled up, and an actress in ancient costume stepped out. The light pink, high-waisted ruqun made her look slender and fair, with delicate features and a small face. Because the skirt was long, an assistant followed behind holding the hem.

Chi Yi, standing by the gate, locked eyes with the actress. The other woman paused for a moment, looking at her. She looked familiar—likely a popular actress—but the President, who only had eyes for her girlfriend, couldn’t name another artist to save her life. She naturally looked away. Seeing her avert her gaze, the actress walked straight into the base.

“Hi, beautiful,” a man walked up to greet her. “I’m the assistant director for [Drama Name]. You have great features; are you here looking for an opportunity? Interested in working with me?”

“No.” Chi Yi shook her head and walked a few steps away. The man wouldn’t give up and followed her, trying to persuade her.

Finally, Xiao Yu came out and chased the man away. As they walked into the film city, Xiao Yu said, “There are a lot of guys like that here. They target beautiful women, bragging about being some ‘big director.’ They’re annoying. Just ignore them; the more you engage, the more persistent they get.”

Chi Yi hummed in agreement and asked, “Is Yixin filming right now?”

“Yes, Sister Xin has one last scene. She was changing and touching up her makeup when I came out; she should be ready soon.”

On the way, Chi Yi learned from Xiao Yu that Cheng Yixin was cameo-ing in a historical drama. Her character was a top courtesan in the capital who was actually an assassin. A prince visiting the prince’s manor falls in love with her at first sight during a performance. Later, she fails to assassinate the crown prince and commits suicide.

“A courtesan?” Hearing this, Chi Yi couldn’t help but chuckle. “I feel like that word doesn’t quite suit her.”

Likely because she was used to Teacher Cheng’s down-to-earth side at home, she felt Cheng Yixin didn’t quite fit the seductive vibe of a top courtesan.

Xiao Yu smiled. “Then you should see Sister Xin at work more often.”

There were many buildings in the film city, each a separate filming location. They passed several before stopping at a courtyard-style building. Inside, staff were busy setting up the scene, and industrial fans were buzzing loudly.

Chi Yi’s idea of a courtesan’s performance scene was what she saw in movies: a grand, elegant courtyard with the beauty dancing in the center of a pavilion over a pond, accompanied by live musicians.

In reality—

A dozen people were scrambling around a tiny courtyard, making the space feel even more cramped. There was a single bare branch in the yard, and the floor tiles were uneven and worn.

Noticing her speechlessness, Xiao Yu whispered an explanation: “The director wanted to rent a bigger courtyard, like the prince’s manor in [Drama Name], with a gazebo on the lake and boardwalks… but beautiful courtyards are expensive and fully booked. This low-budget web drama doesn’t have the funds, so we had to settle for this cheaper one. They’ll fix it in post-production.”

The director was talking to the actor playing the crown prince about the next scene. Xiao Yu introduced him as a newcomer recently signed by their company. Because the production was so poor, they mostly used new actors and didn’t even have proper dressing rooms; a makeshift tent served as a temporary makeup area.

Actors like Cheng Yixin, who had their own vans, fared better, as they could do their makeup in the car with air conditioning.

“Sister Xin started out like this too,” Xiao Yu said as they left the courtyard. “This is how it is when an actor has no fame. That’s why many fight so hard to climb up.”

As they spoke, the van door opened, and Cheng Yixin stepped out in full costume and makeup. Spotting Chi Yi, her face lit up instantly, and she did a little spin. “Do I look good?”

Chi Yi looked her over. Cheng Yixin’s historical makeup alone was enough to make her heart skip a beat—red lips, willow-leaf brows, and a touch of cinnabar red between her eyes. She was stunning when she smiled. However… while a red ancient costume should enhance a courtesan’s beauty, the outfit provided by the crew was truly hard to describe. It had a heavy “cheap photo studio” vibe, with gauze that looked like a mosquito net.

The President frowned slightly and squeezed out three words: “Your face is beautiful.”

Cheng Yixin knew Chi Yi wanted to roast her outfit, but what could she do?

“For a low-budget web drama, it’s actually quite good,” Cheng Yixin comforted her. “I saw the leads only have two or three outfits total. The director found this set I’m wearing on the internet.”

The director, seeing Cheng Yixin was ready, hurried her inside. After a brief briefing, they were ready to shoot. Since the venue was charged by the hour, finishing early meant saving money.

Chi Yi stood off-camera, watching Cheng Yixin at work with Xiao Yu.

As the director shouted “Action,” Cheng Yixin’s gaze shifted instantly. She entered character in a second, walking into the courtyard with graceful, poised steps. This scene primarily involved dancing, then locking eyes with the passing crown prince to “spark” an attraction. Since she had specifically studied classical dance for a previous role, the dancing wasn’t difficult for her after a bit of practice.

The crown prince passed by fanning himself, and his expression of amazement upon seeing the beauty dancing under the tree was well-captured. In the monitor, Cheng Yixin’s seductive, languid expressions were perfect, enough to make anyone’s heart melt.

When the director called “Cut,” he was very satisfied. He let the actors rest while he reviewed the footage just in case.

“How was the shot?” a voice asked. The director, immersed in the screen, replied, “Not bad, very good. It’s exactly the aesthetic I wanted.”

Despite the tight budget, the director had spent a fortune renting this venue to capture this beautiful scene to attract fans. Even if the background was a bit lacking, it was better than filming in a random park.

“The background is a bit ugly,” the voice said again.

“What else can I do? Not enough money to rent a better one,” the director said without thinking. He then paused, realizing something was off, and turned to see an unfamiliar face. “Who are you?”

“I’m here to visit Yixin.”

“Oh, Teacher Cheng’s friend.” The director was quite polite. “Want to see it again? Help me find any issues. While we still have a bit of time, we can reshoot if there’s a problem.”

The director had a sense for aesthetics; the only flaws were the crude background and the cheap-looking costume.

“I can’t solve problems that require money,” the director said quite firmly. This drama was funded out of his own pocket; a new director couldn’t attract much investment.

Cheng Yixin was talking to the assistant director. When she finished, she couldn’t find Chi Yi. Xiao Yu saw through her and said, “President Chi is talking to the director.”

She looked over and indeed saw Chi Yi standing by the director. They were talking about something, and the director was beaming, even shaking her hand.

“That’s all for today! Great work everyone, go home and get some rest! Save your energy for tomorrow’s shoot!”

Her hair was pinned so tightly it felt like her scalp was being stretched. Hearing the director wrap up, Cheng Yixin immediately wanted to change. She told Xiao Yu, “I’ll go change first. Bring Chi Yi up in a bit.”

“Sure, Sister Xin.”

Back in the van, Cheng Yixin changed into her regular clothes while the stylist took down her hair and removed her makeup. A moment later, Chi Yi came in.

“What were you talking to the director about? You both looked so happy.”

“He asked me how the shot was. I said the costumes looked cheap and the background was crude.”

Cheng Yixin choked. “You actually said that? Then why was he smiling so much?”

Xiao Yu stepped in to take over the stylist’s work and found an excuse to send the stylist away, giving the couple some private space.

“Because I told him I could lend him a venue for free, limited to this scene. And sponsor a set of costumes for everyone.”

“Wait, do you know what a filming venue is like? It’s not like the houses we usually live in,” Cheng Yixin laughed. “This is a historical drama; using a modern villa would be a huge gaffe.”

“I know,” the President said airily. “I have two traditional courtyards. With a bit of landscaping in the garden, we can set up a prince’s manor scene.”

Xiao Yu gasped and looked at Chi Yi. “Is it that kind of traditional courtyard?”

Chi Yi nodded. “My parents bought them when they were young. They weren’t at those astronomical prices back then.”

Cheng Yixin’s mouth dropped open in shock. Talk about being born at the finish line! Chi Yi gently pushed her chin back up.

“What other little secrets are you hiding from me?”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, so there are no secrets,” the President stated.

Cheng Yixin remembered a meme of a male actor being called the “King of Grease” making a finger heart, with a line of text edited on. The words popped out of her mouth: “Is your secret ‘love me’?”

The innocent President, having no idea about the meme, replied, “Loving you isn’t a secret.”

Cheng Yixin laughed instantly, touching her waist. “Oh, our Chi Yiyi is too cute.”

Xiao Yu: …Another mouthful of dog food.

As the couple talked, there was a knock on the door. Xiao Yu opened it and looked back. “Sister Xin, it’s Teacher Song Zheng.”

“Let her in.”

Cheng Yixin wasn’t surprised. She had run into Song Zheng at the film city earlier; she was also filming here.

“Yixin, are you heading back? Give me a lift. My van is at the gate.” Before Song Zheng was even in, her voice preceded her. Once she was in, Chi Yi recognized her as the actress she had seen at the gate earlier.

“Oh, sure. I just finished and was planning to head back.” Seeing Song Zheng’s gaze on Chi Yi, Cheng Yixin introduced her: “This is Chi Yi.”

“I know. The boss of Future City who put up the outdoor tribute video for your debut anniversary, right?” Song Zheng smiled. “I thought you looked familiar at the gate, I wasn’t sure if I was mistaken.”

Song Zheng was an extrovert and made friends easily. The two shared a brief handshake.

“I’ve heard so much about President Chi, but never had the chance to meet. I thought I’d have to wait until the end of the month.”

“The end of the month?” Cheng Yixin was confused.

“Yeah.” Song Zheng assumed that given their relationship and the fact she was invited, Cheng Yixin would definitely be going. “The Yixing Foundation’s charity auction at the end of the month, right? Or did I get the date wrong?”

“Auction?” Cheng Yixin frowned instinctively. What auction? Why didn’t she know?

“Yeah, aren’t you going too?”

“Oh, right.” She glanced at Chi Yi and smiled naturally. “There is such an event, but it depends on my manager’s schedule. I’m not sure yet.”

Chi Yi’s car was parked at the gate. When they came out, they waved goodbye to Song Zheng and got into Chi Yi’s car. Once inside, Cheng Yixin kept quiet, waiting for Chi Yi to explain the auction.

“Yixin,” Chi Yi observed her expression in the rearview mirror. “I want to explain the auction to you.”

“Mhm, go ahead.”

“I talked to Sister Wenjing about it before, but the auction conflicts with your pre-set schedule.”

“Why didn’t you tell me directly?” Cheng Yixin turned to her, feeling a spark of anger—anger that she’d gone to the manager instead of her.

“Because it’s a work schedule matter, and Sister Wenjing is your manager; she’s responsible for your activities. If I asked you without checking with her, you’d definitely say yes, and then you’d be caught in the middle of existing work. It would also cause trouble for her.”

“Plus, this is a charity event with no returns. If you had no work, it would be fine, but if you have to cancel work to attend, it wouldn’t be ideal from a company perspective. I didn’t want you to have unnecessary friction with the company.”

Chi Yi’s words were persuasive. Indeed, if Chi Yi had told her, she would have agreed immediately. Then, balancing it with work would have been difficult.

Yet she felt a bit dissatisfied; Chi Yi was considering her, but she didn’t seem to be helping Chi Yi with her work.

“So… is the auction all planned out? Is there anything I can help with?”

“We’re still in the invitation phase, and specific arrangements are being prepared. But there is one part where I really do hope for your help. We plan to auction 79 ‘charity items.’ If possible, I’d like you to donate one item. All proceeds will go to charity.”

“Sure!” Cheng Yixin agreed readily. But she had no idea what to donate. “What should I give?”

Chi Yi thought for a moment. “Something you feel you don’t need anymore. No need to buy anything new.”

“Who will be attending the auction?”

“We plan to invite some partners, suppliers, and the like.”

Cheng Yixin laughed. “That’s typical of your style. But you should consider: will wealthy people care about things stars donate for free? You’d be better off selling tickets.”

“Tickets?” Chi Yi was puzzled.

“Yes. Aim it at the general public. Sell entry tickets online. The draw would be the items donated by artists, with a uniform starting price. Like a flea market. A lower threshold attracts more people. Those who have the means will bid higher even if the starting price is low.”

“With a uniform starting price, the artists don’t have to worry about whether their gift is too expensive or too cheap. It lowers the psychological pressure for them to participate. And those who buy tickets get to see their favorite stars—it’s a win-win.”

Chi Yi thought Cheng Yixin’s advice made a lot of sense. Because she was focused on charity, she hadn’t considered selling tickets. Hearing it now, it seemed much more logical.

“Then… many artists we communicated with were vague. Why do you think that is? Analyze it from an artist’s perspective.”

“It’s simple. First, I get no pay for this, and I have to donate something. If my item is ‘lower’ than another artist’s or a rival’s, isn’t that embarrassing? With that competitive mindset, of course they’d be cautious.”

“Other than that, they have to consider if the organization is legitimate, if there’s any risk of corruption, or if they’d be tied to a charity scandal. But now that President Chi’s reputation is established, most artists likely won’t worry about those things.”

Chi Yi nodded, listening intently. She simply pulled the car over and turned on the hazard lights. She turned to Cheng Yixin, asking humbly, “Then, regarding this auction, how would you manage it if you were in charge?”

Cheng Yixin cleared her throat, showing the same shrewdness she used to calculate discounts for shopping festivals. “First, when inviting artists, explicitly state the starting price and that donated items shouldn’t exceed a certain value. That way, everyone is equal. It’s not ‘the bigger the star, the more expensive the gift.’ No pressure means more artists are willing to come.”

“Also, charge for entry tickets. Use the auction proceeds for charity, but use the ticket money to cover the artists’ travel expenses and organize dinners. Give the artists a chance to network and exchange resources. In the entertainment industry, that’s a huge draw.”

“Because honestly, without a little sweetener, who wants to work for free? Even an office worker earning 3,000 wouldn’t, let alone stars with much higher appearance fees.”

As she finished, she noticed Chi Yi staring at her with sparkling eyes, almost with a sense of adoration.

“Incredible. I never thought of those things,” Chi Yi said. Actually, some team members had suggested selling tickets, but she had rejected it immediately, feeling charity should be pure and not involve fees. Now, listening to Cheng Yixin’s analysis, she realized she had been too narrow-minded.

Cheng Yixin raised an eyebrow, her pride practically overflowing. “These are standard tactics in fan culture. It’s normal that a ‘upstanding young entrepreneur’ like you wouldn’t know.”

“I’m not…” Chi Yi blushed slightly and restarted the car.

Thinking of her meeting with Huang Xinxi tomorrow, even though it was a standard business talk, she felt it best to mention it since the other was a senior in the industry.

“I have a meeting scheduled with Huang Xinxi tomorrow. We talked briefly at the Grace gala, and she’s interested in my charity work. I want to invite her to participate; as a senior, her influence is greater and she can attract more artists.”

“The first sentence was enough,” Cheng Yixin laughed. “The long explanation at the end makes it sound like you’re trying too hard to hide something.”

“No, really,” Chi Yi said quickly. “The first thing we talked about after adding each other on WeChat was this.”

“I know. You’re not like others; you don’t have eight hundred hidden agendas.”

Filming outside had been tiring, so they didn’t eat out. When they got home, Xiao Yu had already delivered takeout. The meal for two was set out, and Xiao Yu had quietly left, a true “hidden hero.”

After dinner, Chi Yi was in the kitchen washing dishes. Cheng Yixin wanted to help, but she kept hearing a strange sound—patter, patter.

She looked all over the living room but couldn’t find the source. The sound stopped, then started again after a moment. It really bothered her.

The search moved from the living room to the garden. Cheng Yixin looked around and finally heard it clearly in the bushes. She pulled out her phone and used the flashlight to see what it was.

A small bird with dark gray feathers was struggling in the bushes, flapping its wings. Cheng Yixin wanted to pick it up, but she was afraid of touching feathered creatures.

“Chi Yi—! Chi Yi—!” Unable to convince herself to touch it, she had to call out to the person inside.

Chi Yi thought something had happened and ran out to find her squatting by the bushes with her phone. Chi Yi scooped the bird up and placed it on the garden table to check its condition.

Its leg had been scraped by something and was bleeding, which was why it couldn’t fly.

“Are you afraid of birds?” Chi Yi asked, seeing her standing to the side with her face scrunched up.

” I don’t have a good feeling about feathered things,” Cheng Yixin said. “Back in school, I was cycling home one day and a bird flew right into my face. I’ll always remember it was a green bird! And I was pecked by a big goose at my grandma’s house when I was little!”

Chi Yi couldn’t help but laugh. she had her bring the first-aid kit from inside and used iodine and ointment to disinfect and treat the wound.

“Should we wrap it in gauze?”

The gauze in the kit was a roll, much too wide for a bird. Chi Yi was about to say it wasn’t necessary when she looked up and saw Cheng Yixin holding a strip of gauze she had cut—the width was just right for the wound.

The bird sat on the table. Likely sensing the giant in front of it was saving its life, it stayed still and stopped flapping.

Cheng Yixin stood by the table, leaning in slightly to watch Chi Yi carefully wrap the gauze. She was very focused and gentle.

Chi Yi looked up and met Cheng Yixin’s undisguised gaze. “Is there something on my face?”

Cheng Yixin smiled and shook her head.

She hoped to become someone like Chi Yi—gentle, firm, and powerful.