The Film Queen Is Cold and Ruthless, Only Sends Money - Chapter 1

2:45 AM.

Most people had already drifted into dreams, and even the bustling streets exuded an air of quietude.

Yet, the commercial center building in City A remained brightly lit.

Su Yun briefly shifted her gaze from the computer files to the time displayed in the bottom right corner.

She blinked, her weary brain taking a few seconds to process that it was 2:45.

Hadn’t it just been 8 PM the last time she checked?

Unbeknownst to her, six or seven hours had slipped by had she really worked overtime until this hour?

With a snap, her colleague behind her shut her laptop, stretched, and stood up. Turning around, she spotted Su Yun and asked in surprise, “Su Yun, you’re still not done with this one?”

Their job, glamorized by outsiders as the illustrious “million-dollar audio engineer,” allowed them to rub shoulders with famous singers and actors while staying at the forefront of art and fashion.

Unfortunately, the true hardships were known only to those in the trenches.

The “million-dollar” salary was a myth. Off-key singers were a dime a dozen. “Artistic quirks” had to be preserved. And professional standards? Lacking.

Every day felt like trying to carve flowers out of dung.

Worse yet, they had to accommodate the schedules of these so-called “professional singers,” pulling all-nighters and enduring endless criticism and condescension.

“A monthly salary of 3,500, life’s more bitter than coffee.”

As her colleague uttered these words, Su Yun picked up her iced black coffee.

For a moment, she hesitated should she drink it or not?

Ah, forget it. This 9.9-yuan coffee was a bargain she’d snagged with a coupon earlier. No sense wasting it.

Two seconds later, she gulped down the coffee with resentment and whined, “The boss said this has to be finished by tomorrow morning.”

“Wasn’t this file just assigned to you this morning?” Her colleague’s eyes widened further before she cursed, “Capitalists really are inhuman.”

Audio engineers had access to plenty of work, but it all depended on seniority and connections. For ordinary people like them, slaving away in a studio under the thumb of capitalists was the only option.

“Yeah,” Su Yun echoed the curse. Leaning back, she indulged in her daily dose of daydreaming and suddenly blurted, “I’ll buy a lottery ticket tomorrow. If I win five million, the first thing I’ll do is buy out the studio and make the boss work like a dog for me.”

As she spoke, she clenched her fist and waved it in the air, a grin spreading across her face as if she could already picture the boss submitting a proposal to her at 3 AM.

The dreams of the working class were just that simple.

Hearing this, her colleague joined in the fantasy. “Hell yeah. Don’t forget to make me VP when that happens.”

“No problem, no problem.” Su Yun’s smile grew even brighter.

A ding from her phone yanked them both back to reality.

Su Yun looked down at the work group chat and mechanically replied with a soulless “Received.”

From fantasy back to the grind, she pouted. “Feels like dreaming is the easier part.”

Her colleague fell silent for two seconds before adding, “Then if you’re pulling an all-nighter tonight, does that mean you won’t even get to dream?”

Su Yun: “???!!!”

That last remark cut deeper than a knife, stabbing straight into Su Yun’s heart.

The smile that had bloomed during her fantasy froze on her lips. A few seconds later, her gaze turned so mournful it could summon a vengeful spirit. “You’ve messed with me consider yourself tangled in cotton!”

Her colleague burst into unrestrained laughter.

The two bantered back and forth, and Su Yun thought it might help her stay awake.

But for some reason, her head only grew dizzier.

The last thing she saw before closing her eyes was the sight of her colleague rushing toward her in panic.

–

When Su Yun woke up again, she found herself in a hospital.

The sunlight outside was bright, even glaring as it streamed through the window.

Instinctively, she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the light.

The IV needle in her hand shifted with the movement, sending a sharp sting through her.

It was precisely this sting that brought some clarity to her vision.

Looking around, she took in the cold white walls and the hanging IV bag. Had her colleague brought her here?

But before she could confirm it, she heard voices outside the hospital room.

“Is Su Yun in Room 1202?” a woman’s voice asked, tinged with curiosity.

“Yes, it’s her. Apparently, she got injured while doing wirework,” came the hushed reply.

Despite the low volume, Su Yun didn’t miss the answer.

Even though they were talking about her name, why did it sound so strange?

Wirework? She had never done anything like that.

“When she was brought in, the fall looked really bad. It’s been a month now, and Jiang Zhi still hasn’t come to see her.”

“Don’t you know there’s no love between them? Honestly, I don’t get why the award-winning actress Jiang Zhi even married her.”

Just as they reached this point in their gossip, their voices suddenly cut off, replaced by a deeper, more authoritative tone.

“Is gossiping during work hours acceptable? If it happens again, your monthly bonus is forfeited.”

“…”

Su Yun couldn’t help but mentally retort, why can’t you gossip during work hours?

She loved gossiping during work hours the most.

But right now, she had no energy to argue. All her attention was fixed on those names.

Su Yun, Jiang Zhi, award-winning actress, wirework.

How was this exactly like the novel she had just read a few days ago?

Even though her job often required overtime, Su Yun always made time to unwind by reading a novel before bed.

The one she had read recently was recommended by a colleague, supposedly highly praised.

Honestly, the moment she saw the title Humid Weather, she had her suspicions.

And when she opened it, she fully understood her colleague’s “well-intentioned” recommendation.

The first cannon fodder character to appear in the novel was also named Su Yun.

Before she could even question her colleague, another message popped up:

“Memorize the whole thing, just in case you transmigrate into the book one day.”

It was this line that made Su Yun pause before closing the page, forcing herself to keep reading.

The protagonist, Jiang Zhi, was an undisputed award-winning actress in the entertainment industry.

Aloof and noble, she only attended work-related events, like the moon hanging in the sky.

The original owner of Su Yun’s body had an arranged marriage with Jiang Zhi, with an agreement to stay out of each other’s way.

But after marrying her, the original owner quickly revealed her true colors, first demanding that Jiang Zhi publicly announce their marriage, showing no regard for her career.

Later, she even forced Jiang Zhi to appear on a variety show with her, where she acted domineering and caused endless trouble for Jiang Zhi, earning herself a storm of online hate.

After enough self-sabotage, the cannon fodder original owner had her marriage annulled by Jiang Zhi and was eventually sold off to Africa to mine for resources.

In summary: There was no logic in this dogblood novel. Her sole purpose was to be a stumbling block on the protagonist’s path to love.

After sorting through the plot and absorbing the memories, Su Yun: “…………”

Why was she always a wage slave, no matter where she went?

However, this also made her understand why she was in the hospital.

The original owner had been filming the final scene of a drama a month ago, which required wirework. The scene was simple, with few lines.

Even though the original owner’s acting skills were poor, it only took three takes to wrap up.

Just as filming ended, the wire rig malfunctioned. The fall was from a considerable height, leaving the original owner severely injured, comatose, and ultimately dead on the spot.

Meanwhile, Su Yun from another world had died from overwork and happened to cross over into this body.

But her injuries were severe, and it wasn’t until now, a month later, that she truly woke up.

When her agent, Li Xinyi, walked in, she was met with Su Yun’s expression of utter despair.

To be fair, Su Yun’s appearance wasn’t bad her features were well-defined, her eyes clear, and the curve at the outer corners of her eyes was just right.

Lying on the hospital bed without makeup, her lips slightly pale, she somehow looked even more striking than usual.

Yet Li Xinyi couldn’t shake the feeling that Su Yun’s entire aura was different from before.

After much thought, she finally found the right word to describe it, though somewhat impolite, it fit perfectly.

Like a faint shadow of death.

Su Yun couldn’t read minds, but if she had heard Li Xinyi’s assessment, she would have agreed wholeheartedly: “That’s just how wage slaves are.”

Su Yun, who had been staring blankly at the ceiling, turned her head when she heard the hospital room door open. It was the original owner’s agent.

Li Xinyi checked the IV drip before sitting beside the bed, her eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

Su Yun answered honestly, “I’m fine. Just a little not fine.”

Li Xinyi’s expression grew even more pained. “Your injuries are serious this time. You’ll need to rest for a while longer.”

She phrased it delicately.

But the truth was, it wasn’t that Su Yun could rest, she had to.

Every drama Su Yun had starred in before had flopped, leaving her with a swarm of haters and no new opportunities.

In the entertainment industry, no exposure and no resources were practically a death sentence.

Li Xinyi braced herself for Su Yun’s usual barrage of questions, already thinking of how to respond.

But instead, Su Yun suddenly asked, “Li-jie, how long can I rest at most?”

A vacation! Who wouldn’t love a vacation?

The faint shadow of death hovering over her vanished instantly. Seeing the sparkle in Su Yun’s eyes, Li Xinyi felt like she was hallucinating a squirrel that had just found an acorn.

The sheer joy radiating from the other woman was unmistakable.

And precisely because of that, Li Xinyi felt even more pressure, convinced Su Yun was trying to comfort her.

The words “one month” stuck in her throat.

Gritting her teeth, she avoided Su Yun’s gaze and changed the subject. “I just spoke to the doctor. She said you’re recovering well and can be discharged in a few days after observation.”

“You can spend the rest of the month recuperating at home.”

Before Li Xinyi could finish, Su Yun interrupted.

Sitting up straight, Su Yun repeated, “How long is the break?”

If she heard correctly, one month?!

“One month…” Li Xinyi’s guilt deepened. Su Yun was still in the hospital, and here she was bringing this up now.

Su Yun’s smile widened upon hearing the confirmation. In her previous life, she could barely scrape together seven days of annual leave.

To suddenly have a whole month off, how could she not be overjoyed?

Unaware of Li Xinyi’s inner turmoil, Su Yun pressed, “Li-jie, so for this entire month, I have absolutely no work, right?”

Li Xinyi took in Su Yun’s beaming face, her heart aching even more, but she could only nod.

After getting injured, Su Yun’s temper improved even more, and she even comforted her.

Though she didn’t understand why she was receiving countless sympathetic glances, Su Yun happily bid Li Xinyi farewell.

Returning to her bedside, she opened her phone only to see a notification pop up.

[Your bank card ending in 2333 received a deposit of RMB 5,000,000.00 on June 11. Current balance.]

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