Everyone in the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Flirty Diva [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 61
The next day, the film set was in full swing as Chu Xi dragged herself out of bed, her head pounding.
While brushing her teeth in front of the mirror, she tried hard to recall what had happened the night before during her drunken stupor.
What did I do last night? Did I video call Gu Mingjing?
Yes, she had.
What did we talk about?
She couldn’t remember.
Oh well, whatever I said, it doesn’t matter.
After finishing her morning routine, Chu Xi was picked up by her assistant, Xiao Yan, and driven to the set.
Since the character she was playing was a police officer—a stubborn and tenacious detective—Chu Xi had many fight scenes with suspects in the drama. Deap Sea Film didn’t allow excessive use of stunt doubles, so the crew had arranged a martial arts instructor for Chu Xi in advance. Whenever she had free time recently, she would practice choreographed moves with the instructor. She realized that many of the grappling and combat techniques she had learned from the military during her time on Brave Heart came in handy now, and she quickly grasped many of the actions with just a little guidance from the instructor.
Today was the first day of filming. The first scene, also the opening shot of Misty Abyss, featured Chu Xi’s character, Detective Han Yi, encountering a robber snatching a purse from a housewife played by Gou Meiru on her way to work on her first day. Han Yi immediately stepped forward, chased down the robber, subdued him, and then escorted him to the police station—giving her new colleagues an unforgettable first impression.
The filming location was a quiet residential street, cordoned off with caution tape. Many early-rising residents who had come out to buy groceries gathered outside the tape to watch the commotion.
After the director briefed Chu Xi and a few extras on the scene, the cameras were ready. The director raised his megaphone: “1, 2, 3—action!”
On the quiet morning street, Chu Xi and Gou Meiru, strangers to each other, walked one after the other. Suddenly, someone darted past Gou Meiru like the wind, effortlessly snatching her purse. Witnessing the whole thing, Chu Xi raised her hand and shouted, “Stop!” before giving chase.
Chu Xi sprinted at full speed, her ponytail whipping behind her. The cameraman, seated on a moving dolly, swiftly followed her with the camera.
They had barely run a few steps when the director suddenly called, “Cut!”
Chu Xi slowed to a stop after a couple more strides, turning back in confusion toward the director.
The director said, “Mind your expression—you’re chasing a suspect, not racing in a competition. Don’t look like you’re determined to win first place at a college sports meet.”
“Got it, Director,” Chu Xi quickly nodded in acknowledgment. She had been running so hard that she’d neglected to control her facial expression. She returned to her starting position to reshoot the scene.
This first scene turned out to be grueling. No matter how many takes they did, Chu Xi kept sprinting relentlessly under the camera’s gaze. True to his reputation as Deep Shadow’s top director, he scrutinized every shot and detail, insisting on retakes for even the slightest imperfection.
By the end, there was a shot where Han Yi, exhausted, panted heavily after catching the robber—a reaction that was entirely genuine from Chu Xi.
The crew members watched in surprise as Chu Xi, red-faced and breathless from take after take, persevered without complaint.
Most actresses these days were delicate and fragile, immediately calling for stunt doubles at the slightest physical demand. Yet Chu Xi hadn’t even mentioned the word “stunt double.”
Perhaps after the casting controversy, she was truly determined to prove herself—she was pushing herself to the limit.
By the time the scene wrapped, Chu Xi felt as though she had run a marathon. Her legs were weak, her breath ragged, and a metallic taste of blood rose in her throat.
Her assistant, Xiao Yan, couldn’t hide her concern. “Why so many takes? Xi Xi, are you okay?”
Chu Xi swallowed the coppery taste. “I’m fine.”
Over the next few days of filming, Chu Xi finally understood why Deap Sea Film had so many critically acclaimed dramas and stood out uniquely in the industry.
Compared to her previous experience on the set of Peach Blossom Promise, where Xia Qiao arrived late every day without consequence, the Misty Abyss crew operated with rigorous professionalism. No one dared slack off, the atmosphere was disciplined, actors stayed in their lanes, and everything revolved around the director’s vision—every shot and detail was meticulously scrutinized.
Chu Xi barely allowed herself a moment of relaxation. She spent her days filming and rehearsing on set, then returned home at night to memorize lines and analyze her character. Her script was densely annotated with highlighted insights and reflections.
Her performance also stunned the crew.
Among the main cast, she had the least experience and the worst reputation. Most of the crew were Deep Sea’s seasoned professionals, accustomed to high standards, and had braced themselves for a tough battle filming her. Yet, in her scenes opposite male lead Li Zhengxu, she not only held her own but complemented him perfectly.
Acting is deeply collaborative. When two actors are equally skilled, their performances become a delight for both the audience and themselves. If one is stronger, they might elevate the weaker performer, allowing them to exceed expectations. However, given the influx of untrained, unqualified idol actors flooding the industry, the opposite often happens—even the most talented actors are dragged down by incompetent co-stars, resulting in disastrous performances where both sink together.
This time, however, the Misty Abyss crew considered themselves lucky. Li Zhengxu’s stellar acting had somehow elevated Chu Xi—the proverbial “bad apple”—to a surprisingly decent level, earning her praise from the director multiple times.
Maybe this will be her comeback role, the crew thought as they watched her throw herself into physically demanding fight scenes, taking real hits from actors twice her size.
With Li Zhengxu carrying the dramatic scenes and her own dedication to the action sequences, the final product might turn out well. Still, everyone held their breath during scenes where she had to perform without Li or other veteran actors to lean on.
Chu Xi had a scene with Gou Meiru.
It was their first one-on-one confrontation since filming began.
Gou Meiru had been in the industry for years, mostly starring in idol dramas. Though she’d won a few awards, none were mainstream. Her skills weren’t bad—otherwise, she wouldn’t have landed a Deap Sea Film—but they weren’t outstanding either, which explained her lack of major accolades and her late-career pivot to more serious roles.
Chu Xi’s earlier strong performances were surely the result of being carried by better actors. Now, facing Gou Meiru—the least impressive performer in the cast—wouldn’t her true limitations be exposed?
However, what was even more unfortunate was that the day of filming this scene happened to be the first time since the start of “Misty Abyss” that the media was allowed to visit the set.
Almost everyone in the crew felt regretful. Chu Xi had performed so well in previous scenes, yet there had been no media visits then. Why did the media have to come on the day she had a scene with Gou Meiru?
With her reputation already not great, performing poorly in front of so many industry professionals would be utterly humiliating.
Finally, the day of the media visit arrived.
Today, the set was filled not only with the crew’s cameras but also the dark lenses of numerous media reporters who had come to observe.
Gou Meiru arrived unusually early. Upon seeing the reporters, she even went to give an interview before heading to the makeup room. Today’s makeup had to be flawless—no wrinkles or pores visible under the cameras.
Looking at her nearly perfect reflection in the mirror, a faint smile curled at the corners of her lips.
Not only would she dominate in acting, but she would also outshine in beauty.
With the media visiting today, she might have felt uncertain if paired against any other actor in the crew. But ever since she learned her scene partner was Chu Xi, that uncertainty turned into absolute confidence.
To crush a twenty-year-old girl not just in front of the crew but also the media—well, it almost felt a bit too cruel. Heh.
On the other side, Chu Xi was reviewing her script once more.
She had long familiarized herself with today’s scene with Gou Meiru. Gou Meiru played the victim’s family member—a sister whose younger brother had been murdered in an extremely brutal manner. The criminal’s methods were cunning, leaving behind very limited clues. The case remained unsolved, on the verge of becoming a cold case. Gou Meiru’s character, the victim’s devoted sister, had spent a year tirelessly seeking justice. When told at the police station that the case might never be solved, she completely broke down. Among the detectives, only Chu Xi’s character, Han Yi, was female, so she was tasked with calming the distraught family member.
This scene was intense and highly challenging—a pivotal moment for both characters in the entire series. Gou Meiru’s emotional breakdown would be raw and unrestrained, while Chu Xi had to portray Han Yi’s transition from guilt and consolation to being deeply moved by the victim’s sister, ultimately resolving to solve the case no matter what. The emotional shifts were incredibly demanding.
And today, the media was watching.
Chu Xi took a deep breath at the thought.
No need to be nervous. Once the scene started, she would immerse herself completely in the role—no room to worry about the reporters’ eyes.
The makeup artist came over to touch up Chu Xi’s look, dusting translucent powder over her porcelain-like skin. The artist first marveled at her complexion before looking at Chu Xi, who obediently tilted her face for the touch-up.
Her first scene with Gou Meiru, and it just had to coincide with the media visit.
As she worked, the makeup artist encouraged her, “You’ll do great.” Compared to Gou Meiru, who constantly complained about her makeup—eyelashes not long enough, lipstick not red enough—Chu Xi was a delight. This wasn’t an idol drama; all actors’ makeup aimed for realism, fitting their roles naturally. What kind of grief-stricken victim’s family member would have glossy “tomato red” lips?
Chu Xi smiled slightly. “Thank you.”
Finally, Chu Xi finished rehearsing with Gou Meiru, who seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood today. After the director gave them notes and all the props and lighting were ready, the actors took their positions. The first scene of the press visit day was about to begin.
With the director’s call of “Action,” the cameras started rolling.
Aside from the visiting reporters, there were also more crew members than usual watching today.
Seeing Chu Xi in her police uniform, bright and heroic, they sighed for her.
The scene was set in the police station’s reception room. As soon as the director called “Action,” Gou Meiru, sitting on the sofa, began to cry.
The ability to shed tears instantly indeed showed some skill.
This made everyone feel even more sympathy for Chu Xi.
The surroundings were extremely quiet.
Chu Xi had already prepared her emotions. She closed the reception room door, cautiously approached Gou Meiru on the sofa, and called softly, “Sister Chen.”
Gou Meiru, tears streaming down her face, said in a trembling voice, “What do you mean… you’ve done your best? What do you mean… it might become an unsolved case?”
Chu Xi sat beside her, her eyes filled with deep guilt. “Sister Chen, this past year, we really have done our best.” Her voice trembled slightly. “But the suspect’s methods were just too cunning.”
“My brother was only sixteen. Do you know he gave up high school, even though he got in, to work and support our family? He was so young, and he was killed so cruelly. Do you even have any sympathy? Do you even—”
At this point, Gou Meiru suddenly stood up, grabbed Chu Xi by the collar, and screamed hysterically, “What do you mean you’ve done your best?! What good are you?! What good are you all?!!”
Everyone was startled by the sudden outburst and the hysterical shouting.
Behind the monitor, the director frowned slightly.
Chu Xi, still held by the collar, couldn’t bring herself to meet the victim’s family member’s gaze out of guilt. She looked at the ground, sniffled, and her eyes gradually reddened. Her previously trembling voice now carried obvious sobs. “Sister Chen, I’m sorry,” she said, closing her eyes as a single tear rolled down at just the right moment. “I’m truly sorry.”
Gou Meiru shook her violently by the collar, continuing her hysterical screams. “What good is sorry?! I want you to solve the case! I want justice for my brother!”
…
The set was eerily quiet except for the actors’ voices.
The visiting reporters and crew members all watched the two actresses intently.
Chu Xi’s portrayal of helplessness, her reddened eyes, her tears, and her final silent resolve were utterly mesmerizing. Some even found their own eyes welling up when she cried.
Although there were two people, all eyes were focused on just one.
It wasn’t until the director yelled “Cut!” and the two actors stepped out of character that the onlookers suddenly realized one undeniable fact—
Chu Xi had completely overshadowed Gou Meiru!