Everyone in the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Flirty Diva [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 62

After the director called “Cut,” the atmosphere on set was palpably different. The scene needed to be reshot, and both Chu Xi and Gou Meiru stood in their original positions, their faces still marked by tears as the makeup artists touched them up.

Gou Meiru’s expression was particularly grim.

She had assumed acting opposite Chu Xi would be effortless, but once the cameras rolled, everything unfolded contrary to her expectations. What was most terrifying was that despite Chu Xi’s subdued voice and restrained movements, Gou Meiru could distinctly feel the other woman’s dominance. She tried compensating by raising her voice and exaggerating her gestures, yet none of it worked—Chu Xi effortlessly countered with just a single, understated glance. A chilling sense of helplessness crept up from Gou Meiru’s feet, leaving her utterly powerless.

The crew and media observers remained mostly silent, some still visibly stunned.

This scene wasn’t a close contest, nor a narrow victory—it was a complete and utter annihilation, one side mercilessly crushing the other into the ground.

A high-difficulty pivotal scene, yet the two actresses’ approaches couldn’t have been more different. Gou Meiru’s emotional transitions were abrupt and forced, her later hysterical outbursts reminiscent of an over-the-top soap opera villain. Perhaps due to her extensive idol drama experience and her eagerness to prove herself, she compensated for lack of depth with exaggerated movements and shouting. But if you muted the audio and only watched her facial expressions, all you’d see was contorted features devoid of genuine emotion.

In stark contrast, Chu Xi’s emotional shifts were gradual and nuanced, every micro-expression deliberate and compelling. Even with closed eyes, just listening to her lines conveyed the character’s heartbreak and despair. Most impressively, her performance was so natural it erased any sense of acting—she became Han Yi, making the audience believe this wasn’t a scene but reality itself.

Everyone had expected Chu Xi’s notoriously bad acting to be exposed in front of the entire crew and visiting media, with Gou Meiru’s idol drama flair easily outshining her. Yet the opposite had happened.

Only now did the crew realize that Chu Xi’s outstanding performances alongside veteran actors earlier weren’t just the result of being carried by their talent—she was genuinely skilled, elevating scenes through mutual chemistry. Even paired with someone like Gou Meiru, she still delivered flawlessly.

The media reporters were even more shocked.

Most of their impressions of Chu Xi’s acting stemmed from past commercial blockbusters, where her “one bad apple” reputation dragged down entire films despite A-list co-stars.

This transformation was nothing short of astonishing!

Yet her face remained that of the Innocent White Flower—sweet yet bewitching—and her figure still boasted long legs, ample curves, and perfectly squared shoulders. The reporters were utterly baffled, finally gasping in disbelief.

Could it be… that she’d been possessed by the spirit of some late, great actress?

As a result, during the subsequent group interview, Chu Xi was bombarded with a series of bizarre questions:

“Chu Xi, do you know what year you were born and when your birthday is?”

“Chu Xi, do you remember the first commercial you filmed when you debuted?”

“Chu Xi, do you know which brand of shoes you used to wear most often at the airport?”

“Huh?” Chu Xi was left utterly bewildered by these questions. After answering them one by one, her assistant Xiao Yan pulled her aside and whispered, “Xi Xi, your performance today was so different from before. The reporters think you’ve been possessed.”

Chu Xi: “………………”

——

That evening, news reports about the media’s visit to the set were published. Every outlet unanimously praised the professionalism and dedication of the Misty Abyss crew, highlighting the harmonious atmosphere among the cast and staff. Most notably, they raved about the female lead’s stunning performance on set that day. One outlet even dedicated over a thousand words to lavish praise.

Netizens who saw these reports reacted like the “confused old man on the subway” meme.

Just how much did Chu Xi bribe these reporters to get them to praise her like this?

Was it even worth it? Didn’t she get tired? Once the drama aired, wouldn’t the truth come out anyway?

Just as they were about to mock her with sarcastic remarks, a peculiar group of fans—whose signature support item was bricks and whose fan color was brick-red—marched in perfect formation through the comment sections, leaving their coordinated messages:

[Xi Bao, you can do it! Xi Bao is the best! Xi Bao never lets her bricks down!]

Netizens: “………………” At least the slogan rhymes.

——

Gu Mingjing’s business trip this time was unusually long. Chu Xi shuttled between the set, home, and the rehearsal studio daily. Since her character was a stubborn, tenacious police detective, she had numerous action scenes involving arrests and confrontations with suspects. To ensure smooth filming, she had to train extensively with the martial arts choreographer. She was so busy that she nearly forgot about her secret boyfriend, who was away on an overseas trip.

Perhaps due to the combat skills she’d learned from military instructors during Brave Heart, Chu Xi picked up the martial arts choreography quickly, executing the moves with seamless precision.

But no matter how well she rehearsed with the choreographer, the actual set and rehearsal environments were vastly different, and her co-stars varied. Unexpected mishaps were inevitable. Within just a few scenes, Chu Xi was covered in bruises.

Among the actors in the same group, Chu Xi had the most action scenes. Every day when she arrived on set, she carried the scent of medicinal plasters for bruises and sprains.

The director saw how hard she was working. Chu Xi had already surprised him countless times, so he told her it was fine to use a stunt double when necessary—no one would criticize her. But Chu Xi still shook her head and refused.

When she rehearsed these scenes with the martial arts choreographer, the moves already hurt. So Han Yi, her character, must have endured even more pain when fighting the suspects in the story. She wanted to immerse herself in the role, to experience the highs and lows of her character—this was the best way.

Today’s scene involved Chu Xi chasing a kidnapper in an abandoned factory. One sequence required her to jump directly from the second floor to pursue the criminal, so she had to be harnessed for the stunt.

However, during filming, there was a miscommunication with the wire operator. When Chu Xi jumped, the operator didn’t release the wire immediately, leaving her suspended in midair. A strong gust of wind threw her off balance, and her body slammed hard against a small protruding ledge meant for air conditioning units.

The entire crew was horrified. When Chu Xi was finally lowered to the ground, she curled up in pain, lying face-down. Everyone rushed over in concern.

Chu Xi buried her face tightly in Xiao Yan’s embrace, not saying a word, looking pitifully small and fragile.

The on-set doctor immediately examined her and found that she had injured her back from the impact. They suggested sending her to the hospital right away, but after lying in her assistant’s arms for a while, Chu Xi finally lifted her head. Her face was flushed, and she sniffled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She apologized for the mistake delaying the shoot and insisted that her bones were probably fine—there was no need to go to the hospital. She wanted to finish the scene first.

Later, a crew member posted on a gossip forum: “A certain actress, whose professional reputation hasn’t been great, is so dedicated it’s heartbreaking.”

The post detailed how this actress, often criticized for her acting, had pushed herself to the point of constant injuries—yet remained friendly and considerate, earning the entire crew’s sympathy.

Replies flooded in with guesses about who it could be, tossing around nearly every active actress’s name. The thread quickly became a hot topic.

That night, Chu Xi lay in bed at home while Xiao Yan applied medicated oil to the bruised area on her back.

After wrapping up for the day, she had gone to the hospital for an X-ray. The doctor confirmed no bone damage, though her lower back was swollen. She was prescribed oral pain-relief pills and topical medicated oil, with strict orders to avoid strenuous activity.

Once the oil was applied, Chu Xi told Xiao Yan to go home.

Xiao Yan looked worried. “Xi Xi, are you sure you’ll be okay alone? Maybe I should stay with you.”

Chu Xi waved her off from her prone position. “It’s fine, go home. It’s not like my spine’s broken or I’m paralyzed—I can still move. Go on, get some rest.”

“Alright… but call me if you need anything tonight, okay?” Xiao Yan gave her one last concerned glance before leaving reluctantly.

Chu Xi sighed, resting her chin on the back of her hand, then reached for the script on her nightstand. Fortunately, the next few days were all dialogue scenes—something she could handle.

After lying in that position for a while, she felt uncomfortable and struggled to push herself up, wincing as she tried to shift.

Oww… my back hurts so much.

Just as she propped herself up, the doorbell rang—ding-dong, ding-ding-dong.

Who could be visiting her so late at night?

It must be a bad guy!

Chu Xi didn’t feel like moving at all. She found an excuse not to answer the door and stayed comfortably in bed. However, the doorbell kept ringing persistently. Annoyed, Chu Xi grabbed a pillow to cover her head, then glanced at her phone and saw a WeChat message.

Gu Mingjing: [It’s me. Open the door.]

Chu Xi: “………………” Not a bad guy, but worse than a bad guy.

Wasn’t he supposed to be on a business trip abroad? When did he come back!

Reluctantly, Chu Xi grimaced as she rolled out of bed. Supporting her injured waist with one hand and shuffling in slippers, she moved step by step like an eighty-year-old granny with mobility issues until she reached the door to open it.

Gu Mingjing stood at the doorway. Before he could even see Chu Xi as the door cracked open, he was hit by the strong smell of medicated oil.

Then came the sight of Chu Xi, dressed in a Crayon Shin-chan-themed pajama set, one hand on her waist and the other gripping the doorknob, looking at him with the pitiful expression of a wronged young bride.

Though he had missed her dearly after being apart for so long, seeing Chu Xi in this state made Gu Mingjing suppress his initial urge to sweep her into his arms. Frowning, he asked, “What happened?”

……

In the bedroom, Gu Mingjing sat by the bed while Chu Xi remained face-down on the mattress.

Gu Mingjing kept frowning as he examined Chu Xi’s medical report and the prescribed medications, both oral and topical.

Chu Xi was no longer the pitiful girl who used to spend ages picking out silk nightgowns to please Gu Mingjing. Now, she lounged freely in her Crayon Shin-chan pajamas without a care. She asked, “Finished your business trip? Why the sudden return?”

Gu Mingjing set down the medicine bottle and glanced at her. “Didn’t I tell you last week I’d be back this afternoon?”

“Ah? Oh! Hehe.” Chu Xi laughed awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

She’d forgotten.

Gu Mingjing had known this drama would be tough for Chu Xi, but he hadn’t expected it to be this grueling. After just one business trip abroad, he returned to find her in this state.

His heart ached for her.

He almost wanted to shut down the entire production right then, but seeing the thoroughly annotated script by Chu Xi’s bedside, he could only shake his head.

Gu Mingjing: “From now on, use stunt doubles for dangerous scenes whenever possible.”

“Okay, okay,” Chu Xi agreed verbally. Humoring men—who couldn’t do that?

Lying on the bed, she tugged at Gu Mingjing’s sleeve. “President Gu… Mr. Gu.”

Whenever she suddenly used these two titles, there was always an ulterior motive. Gu Mingjing looked down at her. “What is it?”

Chu Xi grinned mischievously: “How about giving me a full-body massage?”

She realized that lying here idly while Gu Mingjing had nothing to do was the perfect opportunity for a massage.

Gu Mingjing: “Hmm?”

Chu Xi: “Oh, I mean giving me a rubdown.”

She put on a pitiful expression: “I’m so exhausted from filming, every part of me aches. Could you massage me? Help heal my wounds.”

Gu Mingjing looked at her pleading face: “If you’re uncomfortable, you could hire someone to massage you regularly.”

Chu Xi: “Hiring a masseuse costs money.” Unlike you, who’s free.

Gu Mingjing: “………………”

Chu Xi lay face down on the bed as Gu Mingjing dutifully massaged her shoulders and back.

But whenever he touched certain spots, Chu Xi would yelp like a startled kitten whose tail had been stepped on: “Ouch ouch! That hurts!”

Gu Mingjing avoided the tender areas, his frown deepening with each stroke.

He’d thought it was just her waist, but now he wondered how many random injuries she had all over.

He abruptly lifted Chu Xi’s pajama top.

Chu Xi had been enjoying the massage with her eyes half-closed, thinking Gu Mingjing’s technique wasn’t bad—getting a massage from CEO Gu was worth it. Then suddenly her back felt cold.

Even the front of her top was pulled down below her chest.

Chu Xi jolted and immediately flipped over: “You—what are you doing?!”

“Let me see.” Gu Mingjing reached out again.

Chu Xi quickly covered herself protectively: “You’re not Zhang Wuji! Why do you need to undress someone to treat their injuries?”