Perfect Divorce [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 18

Yuan Xingzhou wasn’t stupid; he could tell that from the moment Zhu Yueming appeared, Ye Huai had been acting “off.”

The man was like a male bird looking for a chance to spread its feathers but finding nowhere to display them, clearly feeling a bit of humiliated rage. However, Zhu Yueming dressed modestly, spoke elegantly, and wasn’t even in the same industry; Yuan Xingzhou truly couldn’t figure out how the man had offended this “Great Deity.”

There were quite a few people in the supermarket looking their way. Yuan Xingzhou weighed his options for a few seconds, decisively gave up on the chicken, grabbed several packs of pre-packaged beef and pork, and hurriedly checked out to go home.

At noon, Yuan Xingzhou changed into home clothes and tied on an apron. He then found a transparent hotel shower cap to wear, put on disposable gloves followed by a layer of rubber gloves, and, holding his phone cautiously, entered the kitchen.

Ye Huai, holding his game console, followed him with a strange expression. He watched as Yuan Xingzhou brought out a kitchen scale and lined up a salt bag, sugar jar, black pepper bottle, beef, potatoes, and onions, then began measuring everything precisely to the gram.

The kitchen counter was covered in small plates and bowls. The apartment kitchen was small, and Yuan Xingzhou’s setup was large; eventually, the cutting board had to be moved to the dining table.

He set up two cutting boards and lined up a row of kitchen knives.

Ye Huai: “…”

“What exactly are you trying to do?” Ye Huai played his game while keeping a wary eye on the scene. “Are you planning to commit husband-murder?”

“To commit husband-murder, I’d only need to wait until you’re asleep, sneak into your bedroom, and give you one good stab,” Yuan Xingzhou said solemnly. “I am making black pepper beef willow.”

Ye Huai: “…Then why are you dressed like that ghost?”

“Cooking fumes are bad for the skin.” Yuan Xingzhou chuckled before explaining, “Besides, I’m afraid of the oil splattering. If I get burned or scarred and end up disfigured, the loss would outweigh the gain.”

Ye Huai simply didn’t know what went on in this person’s head.

He turned back to continue his game, but after a few moves, his character was electrocuted to death by a monster. He respawned and was immediately electrocuted again; the game was stuck in a loop of Game Over on the mountainside.

Ye Huai’s patience was exhausted. He tossed the console aside and turned back to look at Yuan Xingzhou.

Yuan Xingzhou, however, looked quite joyful, checking his phone every few seconds and humming a little tune as he moved back and forth.

After watching for a while, Ye Huai looked for something to say. “So, the reason you don’t know how to cook is just because you’re afraid of blowing up the kitchen?”

“Not really. It’s mainly that I haven’t had the time.” Yuan Xingzhou pulled out a soft measuring tape to ensure he was slicing the meat into 0.8cm pieces, answering with a smile: “When I first started acting, I didn’t understand anything. I was incredibly stiff in front of the camera, and my positioning and lines were far below par, so I could only spend every waking moment practicing. I practiced expressions in the mirror and lines with a voice recorder… Anyway, after muddling through my first production, I hurried to sign up for a remedial class.”

This was the first time the two of them had spoken about their lives after the group disbanded.

Ye Huai was clearly unfamiliar with such a lifestyle and watched him intently.

“And then?” Ye Huai asked. “You just stayed busy filming?”

“Pretty much, but… well, it wasn’t all smooth sailing.” Yuan Xingzhou smiled. “The director for the first drama was the one who found me. I didn’t understand anything when signing the contract and didn’t dare make demands, so the pay was very low. Then I waited until the show actually aired, and they still hadn’t paid me. So after finishing that first one, I was poor for a while. I lived in a collective dorm with no kitchen, so I just ate ramen.”

Ye Huai: “…”

“Ramen is too fattening. Those ‘black photos’ of me (unflattering leaks) were taken during that time. I ate it for half a year and probably gained 20 pounds.” Once the beef was sliced, Yuan Xingzhou used the back of the knife to lightly tenderize it, reminiscing: “Later, when that drama aired, Li Yu negotiated two more roles for me.”

Both were supporting roles, but the schedules overlapped completely. One was filming in Beijing and the other in Guizhou.

Yuan Xingzhou was a nobody, so the production crews naturally wouldn’t accommodate his schedule. In fact, the fact that they tacitly allowed him to fly between the two locations was already quite good. Yuan Xingzhou would take “red-eye” flights at night to one city, finish filming, and fly back to the other; he had no idea how much he spent on airfare.

Fortunately, the payment from the first drama finally came through, which eased his financial pressure.

Later, a kind-hearted coordination assistant from the Guilin crew couldn’t bear to watch it anymore. She secretly condensed his scenes into a few days to try and avoid overlapping with the other side.

Afterward, those two dramas were scheduled for release very quickly—one on a provincial station and one local. They aired one after the other and both became major hits. Yuan Xingzhou had good luck; he caught the wave of popularity, and his “heat” rose instantly. After that, Li Yu got him a role in a big IP adaptation of a Xianxia (fantasy) drama. Although his character didn’t have much screen time, the persona was very appealing, and he had countless “CP pairings” within the show.

Book fans and drama fans wrote short biographies for the original character, made videos, and engaged in all sorts of fan creations. Their love for the fictional character provided fans with a continuous stream of content, which gave Yuan Xingzhou constant exposure.

“Even though Li Yu doesn’t like me, I’m quite grateful for that,” Yuan Xingzhou said. “Of course, there were troubling parts. That character was paired in too many CPs. When I attended an awards ceremony with the crew, none of them really wanted to stand near me…”

Because there were too many CPs and Yuan Xingzhou had the least seniority, being bundled together for hype made him seem like the one “sucking blood” from the others.

The lead actors were already unhappy, and the entertainment industry has its own “chain of contempt”: those with formal acting degrees look down on those who transition from other fields, and singers look down on talent show contestants… Yuan Xingzhou was at the absolute bottom of this chain. During a cocktail party, he was pricked by a few barbed comments.

He maintained his smile and accepted them all, but when he turned to do a backstage interview, he couldn’t control his emotions.

“I am just dutifully portraying the character in the drama.” Yuan Xingzhou suppressed his tears and forced a thin smile for the reporters, saying, “But I’m not very close with the lead actors; everyone is very busy.”

“Do I have a CP? I do… Ye Huai. We have a very good relationship. He even called me yesterday.” Yuan Xingzhou held the microphone, his fingers trembling slightly as he told the crowd, “I miss him very much.”