Let's Get Married on the First Day of Rebirth - Chapter 29

Qu Ange was currently troubled by something.

Ever since Cao Zhixuan performed this song on the show, too many people had approached her to buy the rights or asked if she would sign with a record label.

Good heavens, in her past life, she had diligently acted for over a decade before finally winning Best Actress. She had thought her acting skills were honed to perfection, yet after being reborn, before any film company could discover her as an uncut gem, she had somehow attracted a swarm of record labels instead.

Was this even reasonable?

She finally realized she couldn’t keep burying her head in the sand about this. After much deliberation, she drafted a Weibo post.

[“Friends, the song performed by Mr. Cao Zhixuan on The Sound of Heaven is titled Dream Travels, but it was not composed by me. I merely happened to hear it, it likely belongs to a talented musician. I want to clarify that I do not own the rights to this song in any way, nor do I have the authority to profit from it. I only hope that one day, the true creator will come forward.

When I sang it on the streets, I never imagined it would cause such a storm of attention. Here, I sincerely apologize to that musician while also admiring them for bringing such a beautiful piece into the world. Until the creator steps forward, I hope everyone will refrain from using this song for commercial purposes. Thank you all.”]

On the subway, she read and reread the draft several times, agonizing over whether it was the right approach. Without a professional PR team, she could only rely on her own judgment to decide if the wording was appropriate. Before she could make up her mind, the subway arrived at her stop. She closed her eyes and hit “send.”

Back then, Weibo didn’t allow edits after posting—what was done was done. Qu Ange simply muted her notifications. This whole mess was entirely her fault. Who would’ve thought that her original intention was just to impress a girl? She reminded herself once again to be more careful in the future.

After reflecting, she exited the subway station and opened WeChat, where she saw a message from Tan Zhenzhen.

[“Your agent is here.”]

That was from thirty minutes ago. Then, ten minutes ago—

[“Hurry up and take your idiot agent away!”]

Qu Ange: “…”

Damn it, what was Zhou Yue up to now?

She immediately called Zhou Yue, who picked up. Qu Ange snapped, “I told you I’d pick it up at the company! Why did you go to my place?”

Zhou Yue didn’t respond, just let out a cold “heh” before hanging up.

Qu Ange stared at her phone for a moment before realizing. He had gone to her place once before and now knew she had just been bluffing last time.

Sure enough, she soon received another message from Zhou Yue.

[“After some consideration, I feel that given your talent, the salary offered by Ming Palace Blossoms is far too low. I’ll negotiate on your behalf. Trust me, I’ll get you the best deal possible.”]

Qu Ange’s expression darkened. She knew exactly what this meant—he didn’t want her to take the role in Ming Palace Blossoms. As a newcomer, her pay was often just symbolic. The underlying implication was that he would inflate her asking price until the production team gave up on her.

Of course, Zhou Yue did just that. After leaving Qu Ange’s home, he realized that despite it being the height of summer, he was drenched in cold sweat. The fact that a young girl had genuinely frightened him only added to his sense of humiliation. As soon as he got downstairs, he messaged the production team of Ming Palace Flowers, suggesting they reconsider the salary though he phrased it with some finesse. After all, it couldn’t possibly be him, the diligent agent, who wanted a raise; it had to be Qu Ange herself.

When Qu Ange called, far from showing gratitude, her tone was downright insolent. That only made it all the more necessary to put her in her place. But after hanging up, he saw the post she had shared on Weibo, and his anger flared up again. He called back immediately, demanding, “What’s the meaning of that post?”

Qu Ange replied coolly, “What meaning could there be? That song isn’t mine, so I naturally had to clarify that.”

Zhou Yue snapped, “Who gave you permission to make a public statement? Do you even consider me or the company?”

Qu Ange remained composed. “And did you consult me before negotiating my salary? I have no issue with the pay as it is.”

Zhou Yue gritted his teeth. “Do you think you have a say in this? The contract clearly states that salary negotiations are handled by the company.”

Qu Ange countered, “And I don’t recall the contract saying I’m not allowed to have a Weibo account.”

Zhou Yue was momentarily speechless.

Social media was still in its early stages, and the company’s contracts hadn’t yet caught up with the times. There were no clauses regulating online activity.

Scrambling for a loophole, Zhou Yue blustered, “The contract states that any profit-driven behavior.”

“I didn’t profit from it,” Qu Ange cut him off. “I didn’t even reveal my real identity. What’s the problem?”

Zhou Yue was livid, so much so that he forgot he was standing right in the middle of the street, baking under the scorching sun. A lump of fury lodged in his throat, choking him. In all his years in the industry, he had never encountered such an audacious newcomer even Bei Tian had to rein in her attitude around him.

After a long pause, he finally spat out, “Well done, Qu Ange. Just you wait…”

His threat was cut short when Qu Ange abruptly hung up on him. A surge of rage shot straight to his head, leaving his mind blank. In a fit of fury, he hurled his phone to the ground.

The phone shattered into pieces, and Zhou Yue immediately regretted it. Not only was he furious, but now he was out of pocket too.

If Qu Ange knew how angry Zhou Yue was, she’d probably just throw her head back and laugh. But right now, the first thing she did after hanging up was call Xu Mi. It took a while for Xu Mi to answer, and when she did, she said hesitantly, “Sorry, I think I might have scared your agent off.”

Qu Ange immediately reassured her, “Why are you apologizing? This has nothing to do with you. Zhou Yue’s just a petty, narrow-minded jerk.”

Xu Mi’s voice was uncertain. “Well… it might have something to do with me.”

Because the moment Zhou Yue left, Tan Zhenzhen clutched her chest and exclaimed, “Xu-Xu-Xu Mi, you were terrifying just now! The way you spoke, it sounded like you were ready to tear someone apart.”

“Did it?” Xu Mi frowned. She had just been too frustrated to think much about it.

But now that Qu Ange’s agent had fled in a panic, the problem was that he had taken the contract and script with him.

Even though Xu Mi didn’t want Qu Ange to get involved in the entertainment industry, this was something Qu Ange wanted. Not supporting her was one thing, but actively obstructing her didn’t seem right either.

She felt somewhat guilty because of this, but then she heard Qu Ange say, “Don’t mind him. He must have gone to check our side and realized I don’t have any backing, so he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

Xu Mi was taken aback: “Backing?”

Qu Ange replied, “Last time we met, I let him misunderstand that I was being kept.”

Xu Mi’s voice wavered slightly: “Kept?!”

Earlier, she had been too emotional and spoken without thinking. Now she regretted bringing it up. What was she saying in front of the innocent Xu Mi? Qu Ange quickly changed the subject: “It’s nothing, just trivial matters. If the role is gone, it’s gone. Anyway, my priority right now is to focus on terminating the contract. I’ll come back then. What’s for dinner tonight?”

Xu Mi was silent for a moment before saying, “You’ll know when you get back.”

Qu Ange replied, “I’m already looking forward to it.”

Before she could finish, Xu Mi hung up.

Thinking she’d see Xu Mi soon, Qu Ange didn’t mind. Remembering she had upset Xu Mi the day before, she passed by a mall on her way back. Since her stocks had earned her some money, she decided to go in and pick out a gift for Xu Mi.

After hanging up, Xu Mi’s mind was in turmoil. She never expected Qu Ange could casually mention being “kept.” Was this how the entertainment industry worked? As long as you had money and power, morality and laws didn’t matter?

Unable to hold back, she asked Tan Zhenzhen, “Zhenzhen, is the entertainment industry really that chaotic?”

Tan Zhenzhen, still fuming over Zhou Yue’s attitude, immediately snapped, “Absolutely! Let me tell you, some of my colleagues are close to big entertainment companies, and the scandals they reveal are shocking…”

She trailed off, suddenly remembering Qu Ange. Noticing Xu Mi’s troubled expression, she quickly added, “But there are also upright people, like Jiang Ying and Yan Huili—very charitable and no scandals. Qu… Qu Ange will definitely be that kind of artist too.”

Xu Mi, however, seemed thoughtful. “But making it big in the entertainment industry… must be hard, right?”

Tan Zhenzhen glanced at Xu Mi’s expression and felt that she didn’t sound worried—more like pleased?

At four in the afternoon, Qu Ange finally returned home. The lamb ribs had been simmering on low heat, and the moment Qu Ange stepped inside, she was greeted by the rich aroma of meat, infused with soy sauce, star anise, and cinnamon. Her mouth watered as she headed to the kitchen to peek into the pot. Xu Mi emerged from the room and asked, “What are you doing?”

Qu Ange asked, “What kind of meat is this?”

Xu Mi replied, “Lamb ribs. Can’t you smell the gamey scent?”

Now that it was pointed out, Qu Ange did notice a faint gamey odor lingering in the kitchen.

Xu Mi looked at Qu Ange, then turned and went back inside. When she returned, she handed Qu Ange a damp towel, saying, “Wipe the sweat off your face.”

Qu Ange was pleasantly surprised and quickly took it to wipe her face. She then leaned closer to Xu Mi and said, “Kiss.”

Xu Mi pretended not to hear and lifted the lid to check the lamb. The sauce bubbled gently in the pot.

Qu Ange’s eyes sparkled. “When are we eating?”

Xu Mi said, “A little longer…”

As she spoke, she glanced at Qu Ange, who looked genuinely cheerful and not at all upset. After hesitating, she finally asked, “Did you get the contract and the script?”

Qu Ange felt that Xu Mi was worried about her. Not wanting Xu Mi to fret, she said, “It’s fine, I can handle these things myself. Is Zhou Yue really that disgusting? What exactly did he do? Can you tell me?”

She lowered her head, took Xu Mi’s hand, and leaned in slowly. With her other hand, she gently brushed away the stray hairs by Xu Mi’s cheek. The cool breeze from the air conditioner wafted over them, and sunlight streamed in through the window by the counter, enveloping them like stage lights—the atmosphere was just right. Suddenly, a jarring voice pierced the air.

“Xu Mi can’t be bothered to say it, so I’ll tell you. That manager of yours is practically a living megaphone, the ultimate annoyance!”

Qu Ange turned to see Tan Zhenzhen hobbling out of the room on crutches. Xu Mi immediately pulled her hand away.

Qu Ange couldn’t help but mutter, “You’re pretty annoying too.”

Xu Mi shot Qu Ange a glance, but Tan Zhenzhen didn’t seem to hear and continued ranting about Zhou Yue’s misdeeds. Qu Ange listened calmly and said, “Yep, that’s Zhou Yue for you.”

Tan Zhenzhen slammed the table and stood up. “Why did you sign with someone like him?”

Qu Ange sighed helplessly. “I didn’t have a choice. I had no connections back then, and he was the only one who extended an olive branch.”

A few years later, Qu Ange would come to understand Zhou Yue’s tactics. He specialized in signing newcomers like her—those with good looks but no industry connections—locking them into exploitative contracts. If they didn’t make it big, he’d ignore them; if they did, he’d work them to the bone on high-paying gigs. It was practically a no-risk business for him.

Hearing the bitterness in Qu Ange’s voice, Tan Zhenzhen fell silent. Qu Ange added, “But don’t worry, I’m already working on terminating the contract…”

Just then, her phone rang. Qu Ange saw an unfamiliar number and answered hesitantly, only to hear a familiar voice—one she’d often hear a decade later.

Wang Jia’s voice, brimming with exasperation, came through the line:

“Is this Qu Ange?”

“Ah, yes. And you are…?”

“I’m Wang Jia, the screenwriter for Ming Palace Blossoms. Tell me, what part of my offered fee didn’t sit right with you? Are you really this desperate for money?”

Qu Ange was stunned. She’d guessed Zhou Yue would try to negotiate her pay, but she never expected Wang Jia to call her directly.

Wang Jia continued ranting: “I’m only saying this because I admire your talent. This industry is already a mess thanks to some people, but if you want to go far, it’s professionalism, hard work, and dedication that’ll get you there. Do you understand?”

Qu Ange hurriedly replied, “I do, I do! But this matter…”

She lowered her voice, letting it crack slightly to sound pitiful. “But this wasn’t my decision. I’d join the production even without pay, but my company…”

She glanced up and saw Xu Mi and Tan Zhenzhen staring at her intently, hanging on her every word.