She Became The Black Lotus’s Pure, Untouchable Love - Chapter 29

Chapter 29

When Lin Junruo received that WeChat message, she hadn’t even woken up yet.

Since joining the cast of Song of the Sea, she hadn’t had a single day of good sleep due to her heavy scenes and the short filming schedule. As a female lead, she had to wake up early every day for the complex hair styling required for a period drama. The production was poor; to save money, there were only two makeup artists for the entire cast, and the actors had to queue up every morning.

Yesterday, she was in the middle of getting her hair braided, sighing inwardly and wondering how much longer she could endure this. Then, she saw the round-faced assistant director walk into the dressing room, clutching a script soaked in tears. Sobbing and looking miserable, he announced that filming was suspended.

Until when? No one knew.

Looking at the tear-stained assistant director and the festive, joyful atmosphere that immediately erupted in the dressing room, she patted his round shoulder and comforted him: “Just think of it as giving yourself a holiday from all the scolding.”

Indeed, Song of the Sea had been criticized every single day since it was announced. It was a web drama adapted from a novel. Normally, having an existing fan base is a blessing for a production, but for a broke crew that couldn’t attract investment, it was a curse.

Between the casting, promotional materials, low-budget special effects, and leaked snippets—not to mention the lack of a single veteran actor to anchor the show—the drama was clearly destined to be a dark stain on the history of web series. Especially after Sister Xiangxiang fell from the wire and broke her leg, the already struggling production became even more destitute.

Seeing the overwhelming online hate and the tearful questions from her few fans asking why she took this role, Lin Junruo felt she understood them. If a book she loved was filmed like this, she’d be furious too. But she was a small-time actress from a tiny studio; she didn’t have the luxury of choice.

Now that filming had stopped, the “Super Topic” on Weibo was surely full of celebration, firecrackers, and giveaways.

She huddled under her blanket, habitually reaching out a hand to check for today’s gossip. She wondered if the news of the suspension had leaked and if her reputation might improve because of it.

The moment she lit up her phone, she saw a WeChat message sitting on the screen:

Have you eaten? If not, my treat.

Looking at the name of the sender, her eyes widened. With her messy, knotted hair, she sat bolt upright in bed. After clicking into the Moments profile several times to confirm, she finally believed it: it was the real Deng Yanxin.

The Movie Queen… was inviting her to dinner?

Lin Junruo’s brain stalled. Her previous claims of being a fan weren’t just flattery. In this massive entertainment industry, her two favorite actors were Deng Yanxin and Huo Qiyun. She had taken detailed notes on every page of Deng Yanxin’s book and spent a fortune collecting every DVD special edition. She even practiced “mirror reflection” exercises every day, though she saw no improvement.

If she wanted to be shameless about it, Deng Yanxin was also a senior from the same film academy—though they had never met.

But now! Her senior was talking to her! Her senior wanted to buy her dinner! These two facts exploded in her mind for a long time before she could calm down.

Lin Junruo knew her acting was poor. Watching herself on screen felt like being an ant in a maze with no exit. But now, Deng Yanxin had appeared! She had to take this chance to ask for advice. Excitedly, she typed:

Okay! Now?

Deng Yanxin: Yes, I’m in Room 2102.

Seeing this, she leaped out of bed, washed up hurriedly, and dashed to her wardrobe. As she rode the elevator to the hotel’s top floor, her heart was thumping wildly. Meeting Deng Yanxin and eating with her felt dreamlike, as if every step she took wasn’t quite real.

In her world, this was impossible. She was still filming low-budget web dramas, while Deng Yanxin had already won the “Big Three” awards and only accepted roles from famous directors. The entertainment industry is a realistic vanity fair where status is clearly tiered. The distance between her and Deng Yanxin was vast. Even if they attended the same awards ceremony, Deng Yanxin would be in the front row under the spotlights, while Junruo would be in the back, watching the colorful lights from afar.

When her trembling fingertips knocked on the door, a small crack opened. Inside was the Movie Queen, sitting in a wheelchair with a cast on her leg, wearing a bathrobe.

Lin Junruo stared at the bathrobe and the clear, makeup-free face, stunned. She wondered if she had arrived too early and Deng Yanxin hadn’t had time to change. She hurriedly backed up: “I didn’t know you weren’t dressed yet. I’ll wait outside.”

“It’s not early. We’re eating in the room.”

Seeing Deng Yanxin struggle slightly to move her wheelchair and gesture for her to enter with a smiling face, Lin Junruo stepped inside with the feeling of a pilgrim entering a shrine.

When she sat down, Deng Yanxin sat opposite her, holding a glass of red wine in one hand and resting her face on the other, her smiling eyes watching her softly.

The atmosphere in the room was strange. Outside, the sun was scorching, but the heavy curtains were drawn, blocking all natural light. The dim room was lit only by a small orange lamp, creating a warm glow. Scented candles flickered on the table, their fragrance mixing with a hint of smoke to create an intimate, “ambiguous” vibe.

If the person sitting across from her wasn’t Deng Yanxin but a man, she would have mistaken this for a romantic date.

Under the faint candlelight, that “movie face” loved by all great directors possessed an indescribable gentleness. Deng Yanxin wasn’t stunningly perfect in the conventional sense; rather, she had a softness. Her features, when viewed individually, weren’t perfect or even particularly outstanding, but together they formed a face that could withstand any lens—a face where every movement was worth capturing.

If it weren’t for the food special playing on the TV… If it weren’t for the “Gong Xi Fa Cai” (Happy New Year) background music playing in 3D surround sound… If it weren’t for the pan-fried buns and sizzling grilled beef on the table…

She would have felt like she was wearing VR goggles watching a movie. Everything seemed unreal.

However, the aroma of the grilled beef was too strong. The dreamlike unreality lasted only a moment before hunger pulled her back to earth. Looking at the table full of fragrant food, she wanted to eat but didn’t dare. Deng Yanxin just watched her, smiling without saying a word.

Lin Junruo couldn’t hold it in any longer. she wanted to speak, but didn’t know how to address her.

Deng Yanxin? Too rude for a junior. Yanxin? She could already imagine the classic movie scene where Deng Yanxin rolls her eyes and says, “Don’t act like we’re close.” Senior? Might look like she was trying too hard to latch onto her fame.

“Miss Deng,” she finally stammered respectfully, “is there a reason you called me here today?”

“To discuss acting, and to treat you to a meal…” Deng Yanxin smiled, her eyes reflecting the soft light. “I’m a bit older than you; calling me ‘Sister’ wouldn’t be out of place.”

Call her… Sister?

Lin Junruo’s heart tightened. To be so bold with Deng Yanxin? Her hands gripped her skirt, and her voice trembled.

“Uh… Sister Deng.”

Deng Yanxin’s habitual gentle smile nearly cracked at the words “Sister Deng” (Deng Jie).

Before that “Sister Deng” came out, she had been quite satisfied. She had a long-standing habit of enjoying watching others eat. So, when the girl from the commercials actually stood outside her door—looking a bit obedient and a bit afraid—Deng Yanxin was pleased.

She had watched all of Lin Junruo’s food commercials: fried chicken, spicy soup, dumplings. The look of pure happiness in Junruo’s eyes when she took a bite made people believe the food was truly delicious—even though Deng Yanxin herself couldn’t taste a thing.

Staring at Lin Junruo sitting obediently before the feast, she suddenly had the strange desire to eat with her long-term. Provided she stopped calling her “Sister Deng.”

Seeing Lin Junruo’s confusion, Deng Yanxin remembered her goal. Ignoring the “Sister Deng” title, she maintained her graceful warmth: “Just call me ‘Sister’ (Jiejie). Are you hungry? Let’s eat.”

“You’re really willing to teach me!” Lin Junruo rubbed her hands together and picked up a fried dumpling. Just as she was about to bite, she couldn’t help but ask: “Do you have any little methods for improving acting?”

Deng Yanxin watched the dumpling in the chopsticks with a burning gaze and advised: “Of course. The most important thing for an actor is a sense of immersion into the character. Eat first; we’ll talk while you eat.”

Hearing this, Lin Junruo relaxed her grip, placed the dumpling in her small bowl, and said excitedly: “Is there a specific way to immerse? Like when I do romance scenes, I never feel any immersion.”

Looking at the neglected dumpling in the bowl and then at Lin Junruo’s sparkling eyes, Deng Yanxin suppressed her frustration and said:

“Treat me as your romantic interest. Perform eating a dumpling in front of your lover for me, and let me see.”