What Should I Do If the Aloof Movie Queen Is Too in Love With Me? - Chapter 22

S City was three hundred kilometers away from D City. The drive took nearly four hours, which was not considered short.

Long-distance drives were usually handled by professional drivers, but Meng Xingshu did not wait a single second. She stepped straight into the driver’s seat.

Fang Ruohan chased after her: “Teacher Meng, let me do it.”

Meng Xingshu had already buckled her seatbelt. Without looking at Fang Ruohan, she started the car and said succinctly: “Get in. I need you to arrange some work.”

The matter regarding “Thousand Gold Bones” was actually one of the many chaotic phenomena in the industry, and it wasn’t considered rare in the film and television circle.

For a young director who had just started to stand out like Xiao Ji—someone who possessed talent but lacked public recognition, seniority, or connections—having their credit stolen was merely a matter of a single word from those in power.

However, as the platform side, Filmily naturally held a different stance from the production company. As long as a drama was good enough and cheap enough, why would they bother to investigate the winding, hidden mechanisms behind the scenes?

The sheer volume of films Filmily had to review every year was as vast as the sea. Even if they wanted to investigate, it was impossible to check every single drama, let alone have a Senior Vice President personally review a small-budget web series.

This time, “Thousand Gold Bones” had purely run straight into the muzzle of the gun. It didn’t matter if they didn’t check, but once they did, they ended up pulling out a massive hidden mess. Once Lin Shen saw the reality of the situation, he directly invited his mother, Chairman Lin, to step in.

After a succession of several meetings ended, Fang Ruohan closed her laptop and began observing Meng Xingshu’s expression.

Aside from briefly adding a few words during the meetings, Meng Xingshu had not spoken another word.

She had returned to her usual unreadable appearance, driving with a placid expression as if she weren’t thinking about anything at all… except that her driving speed was a bit fast.

Fang Ruohan tapped open her chat interface with Ji Youyi and spoke tentatively: “Auntie said she didn’t go home. Should I ask her where she went?”

“No need.” Meng Xingshu could roughly guess where Ji Youyi was.

She dropped Fang Ruohan off at the villa and drove alone to the studios.

The last time she had driven at such a speed was the night Ji Youyi was hospitalized for drinking.

At that time, also in this very car, Ji Youyi had been curled up in pain, her face pale as paper. Yet she still thought she was hiding it perfectly, stubbornly saying: “There’s no anyone else left in the crew except me. If I don’t go, who will?”

The moment she sobered up that night, she began rewriting the script, staying up the entire night, and then acted as if nothing had happened, continuing to follow the filming and post-production day and night.

Even while running a fever, she resolved the crew’s emergencies by herself, handling the scheduling and directing all on her own.

When the crew wrapped up for the day and everyone left, she was still there.

When the crew started work and people slowly trickled in, she was still there.

If someone could truly help her share all this weight, that would be fine. But how could it be that after she had endured all the hardships entirely alone, someone else stepped in to steal all the glory?

Meng Xingshu took a deep breath to force herself to calm down.

When exactly did Ji Youyi find out about this?

Meng Xingshu recalled carefully, yet she couldn’t find a single clue.

Ji Youyi worked normally every day, laughing, playing, and joking with her colleagues and friends. She was reluctant to spend money on herself, yet she bought cups of milk tea for others one after another.

She wouldn’t cry out that she was tired, she wouldn’t cry out in pain, she wouldn’t talk about her grievances, and she wouldn’t say she was sad. She would only flash a sly smile, pat her chest, and say, “Just rest assured, I’m perfectly fine!”

Perhaps it was because merely staying alive kept her busy enough—just like how when a drama ended and everyone else was resting, she, who deserved to rest the most, had already buried her head back into the film studios for the sake of making a living.

She couldn’t spare the mind to think too much, so she didn’t feel the bitterness.

Ji Youyi didn’t worry, but it was instead Meng Xingshu’s own fault for feeling uneasy.

The car stopped outside the film studios. Her finger hovered over the chat box, shifting back and forth for a long time, before she finally typed out a line of text.

Ersilia: “Are you free recently? I want to ask you for a favor.”

Ji Youyi’s luck was excellent. She actually managed to find an urgently hiring position.

There was a crew that had been rushing production for eight consecutive days. Just as it was about to finish filming, the continuity clerk collapsed.

In the broad morning, while the ambulance was pulling the person away to the hospital with its sirens blaring, Ji Youyi happened to be watching from the side. She took over the job right then and there. The wage she negotiated with the crew was 600 a day, paid in cash.

This drama was an urban fantasy micro-short drama titled “The Supreme Dragon King: Enduring for Three Years, Finally Reaching the Urban Pinnacle.”

It roughly told the story of a male protagonist who had once humbled himself as a live-in son-in-law, suffering all kinds of humiliation before awakening his Dragon King lineage, from which he opened up a path of arrogant, cool, and frenzied—oh no, pinnacle success. Along the way, whenever he encountered difficulties, he only needed to crook the corner of his mouth, and in the next second, all the antagonists would be ruthlessly slapped in the face.

While Ji Youyi was holding the clapperboard and watching the fun from the side, she tried to mimic that expression and discovered that this facial movement genuinely possessed some difficulty. The Dragon King truly lived up to his title.

When Ji Youyi acted as a director, she kept a strict rein on her own crew, but that did not mean she would treat every single job with utmost seriousness.

She was a film and television migrant worker who excelled at self-regulation, capable of judging which energy-saving mode she should activate according to different occasions.

Take this Dragon King crew, for instance:

During filming, the actors’ emotions were so saturated that they bordered on flamboyant. The director sat before the vertical screen monitor with droopy eyelids, occasionally calling out a word or two of guidance, all of which were complaining that the actors’ emotions weren’t flamboyant enough.

The staff members who temporarily had no work to do were playing on their phones while cracking sunflower seeds. The sound of cracking seeds felt like they were setting a rhythmic beat for the actors’ lines.

Once a filming segment ended, while the prop master was setting up for the next scene, several actors picked up their phones and began taking selfies, and some were even recording videos. For a time, voices, shutter sounds, and camera flashes rose and fell continuously.

Meanwhile, the director clearly had no objections because he had also unlocked his own phone. A few seconds later, the piercing background music of short videos joined the aforementioned sounds.

Look at that, what a harmonious working atmosphere. If she didn’t slack off a bit more, wouldn’t she be a fool?

The clever Ji Youyi slacked off for a whole day, freeloading a bag of sunflower seeds, two bottles of water, and two box lunches from the crew.

At dinner time, she used two chopsticks to rapidly poke at the rice like loosening soil, treating it as if it had been thoroughly mashed. Just as she was about to pour it into her mouth, she caught sight of her phone screen lighting up.

“The Most, Most, Most, Most Dearest Sister Meng~” had sent a message.

Blame it on Li Zhulan, who had previously spent every day on set telling her, “If you don’t eat properly, I’m going to report you to Teacher Meng.” Ji Youyi looked at the box lunch in her hands and guiltily set it down.

This was actually the first time Meng Xingshu had taken the initiative to send her a message. Ji Youyi solemnly tapped it open. Upon seeing the message, she let out a sigh of relief.

Excellent, it wasn’t a check-up. She just needed a favor.

When her benefactor came knocking on her door, Ji Youyi naturally treated it with gravity.

She immediately set down her utensils and typed subserviently: “Free, free, absolutely free! If Teacher Meng is looking for me, how could I possibly not be free! I’m with a crew right now, it happens to be dinner time, what do you need me to do?”

Meng Xingshu: “No rush. Which crew are you with?”

Ji Youyi raised her head to look at the drama’s title, but ultimately couldn’t bring herself to type it out. She merely sent over the location: “O-O A, tiny crew.”

Meng Xingshu: “Alright. Do your work, I’ll wait for you.”

“Wait.”

This word was a somewhat subtle term. It was an action, yet it seemed to be more than just an action.

In an instant, Ji Youyi thought of many similar scenes.

On the day she terminated her contract, the moment she finished sending a message, Meng Xingshu appeared downstairs at the company. On the day of the set visit, she accompanied her until the very end. On the night at Home Inn, she had suddenly appeared again for reasons unknown.

And every night after that, as long as she finished work, she could see that familiar vehicle downstairs.

“Are you waiting for me?”

Ji Youyi actually really wanted to ask this question, but considering the identity and relationship between the two, she always felt it was somewhat inappropriate.

What if the big star just happened to be handling matters nearby during that time? Wouldn’t she just be flattering herself?

Yet, unexpectedly, Meng Xingshu had taken the initiative to say that very word out loud today.

Ji Youyi could still recall that time in Meng Xingshu’s car, when she had looked at Meng Xingshu’s face from a close distance, and the bizarre sensation of her heart tingling.

She scratched her head, tossing aside those chaotic thoughts.

As the exam treasure guide stated: Skip the questions you don’t know how to answer first.

Ji Youyi chose to skip it and eat first.

She scrolled through her emojis for a long while before finally picking a completely ordinary, cute expression to reply with.

After sending it, she put away her phone, picked up her chopsticks—one in each hand—and honestly mashed the rice and dishes thoroughly before eating it mouthful by mouthful.

Though it wasted time, it seemed quite fitting for her slacking off state today. No big deal.

During the evening filming, Ji Youyi was a bit distracted.

It must be because her workload wasn’t saturated enough. As she worked, she kept drifting into thoughts about how Meng Xingshu’s waiting was supposed to play out, and where she was waiting.

Several times she picked up her phone wanting to ask, only to put it back down again. Consequently, after a short while, she would start thinking again: This studio location rented by the crew is so shabby, there’s no way she would come here to wait. That would be too degrading for her.

But switching thoughts again, she reasoned: Actually, that creative park where they did post-production was also quite shabby.

Slacking off until two o’clock in the morning, the crew finally wrapped filming.

Even though her heart kept telling her it was impossible, the moment Ji Youyi received her wages, she still immediately pocketed her bag and ran all the way downstairs.

A girl from the same crew who had ridden an electric scooter asked if she wanted a ride home, but Ji Youyi shouted as she ran: “No need! My sister is coming to pick me up!”

Right after shouting, she heard the person she left behind laugh: “Why are you so happy? It’s like a kid getting dismissed from school.”

What nonsense, where was she happy! She was just being polite!

What if the person really came? It wouldn’t be good to keep someone waiting for long!

Downstairs at the film base building.

A shooting set inside the building had just dispersed, and people were trickling out of the originally deserted main entrance. Meng Xingshu raised her eyes, looking past the crowd, and saw the person she was waiting for running out from the exit.

The ponytail at the back of her head was still swinging, and her bangs at her forehead were parted to both sides due to running. The young girl held her backpack in her left hand, propped her right hand on her knee to catch her breath, and tilted her head up to look around. When her gaze locked onto the direction where Meng Xingshu was located, her beautiful eyes clearly lit up. Immediately, she stepped forward again, rushing down the steps, and ran toward her while catching the spring night breeze.

The passenger door was opened, and the night breeze suddenly rushed inside.

Ji Youyi buckled her seatbelt and, as per routine, urged: “Teacher Meng, let’s run fast! If we don’t run, we’re going to be caught by paparazzi!”

Meng Xingshu withdrew her gaze from Ji Youyi’s messy forehead hair, suppressing the impulse to reach her hand out. While starting the vehicle, she handed over a bottle of water.

Ji Youyi lowered her head to look. It was covered in foreign words and looked exceptionally expensive.

She promptly refused, pulling out her half-empty bottle of mineral water from her own bag—it was taken for free from the crew, and free water tasted the best.

After finishing her water and steadying her breath, she opened her mouth to ask: “Teacher Meng, what help do you need from me?”

“Are you completely free for a whole period of time in the near future?” Meng Xingshu asked back while driving.

If Ji Youyi were to speak honestly, she wasn’t. She still had to continue working to repay that five-million-yuan debt.

But she didn’t hesitate and answered: “Yes.”

Meng Xingshu let out an “En,” her tone casual and ordinary: “I’ll ask first, do you have any interest in directing a drama for the platform?”

Web dramas were divided into several types.

For instance, the “Thousand Gold Bones” that Ji Youyi had just finished filming belonged to account-sharing dramas, which were independently produced by the production side and then sold to the platform.

Because there was no guarantee that a filmed drama could make money, investors generally didn’t dare to pour too much investment into them. Account-sharing dramas were often small-budget productions.

In contrast to this were self-produced dramas and customized dramas.

The former was completely self-produced by the platform, while the latter involved the platform funding and finding another company to carry out production. For example, Lingxing often undertook the production of television dramas for Filmily.

The advantages of these two types of dramas were obvious. Backed by the platform, they didn’t worry about lacking a market after filming. The investment would be bolder, the salaries for cast and crew would be higher, and the quality of the work would generally rise accordingly.

Being able to go direct a drama for the platform was equivalent to allowing an employment-challenged individual like Ji Youyi to ascend to heaven in a single step and enter a high-paying large corporation. Of course it was a massive good thing. How did this count as helping?

Ji Youyi felt doubtful and pressed further: “Which crew is short of people? If I go, what kind of work will I be doing?”

Just as she was about to assume an interview attitude to showcase her mastery over various crew skills, she heard Meng Xingshu give the answer: “Director.”

Ji Youyi refused without even thinking.

“Other types of work are fine, but being a director isn’t?” Meng Xingshu asked.

Ji Youyi nodded, seriously correcting her: “Other types of work are fine, but being the chief director isn’t.”

“Why?” Meng Xingshu stated calmly, “You just served as the chief director for a drama. There’s no reason to go to another crew to act as an assistant.”

…Chief director my foot. A small web drama with a three-million investment, where the entire directing team consisted of her and a single continuity clerk—could that even be called a chief director?

Ji Youyi’s skin was thick, but it wasn’t quite that thick. She scratched her face and explained: “After all, the circle ranks people by seniority. I’m a newcomer, young, with a poor reputation, and I don’t have any works to my name. If I don’t act as an assistant, who would be willing to play a supporting role for me?”

“If I act as the chief director, it will be very difficult for the crew to recruit people, and we won’t even be able to invite better actors. Even…” Ji Youyi paused, admitting frankly, “In fact, there’s no need to talk about matters after setting up the crew. From the very beginning, there won’t be any producer willing to take me.”

Platform producers had performance requirements when doing projects; who didn’t want to make more money?

Bonuses were tied to project revenue. If a project lost money, they would be scolded or even lose their jobs!

The one providing the money was the platform, and they weren’t lacking that bit of director fees. To play it safe, they would naturally prioritize choosing directors with higher fame, who could attract better main creators to join, appearing more reliable and less likely to fail.

The future was hard to say, but given Ji Youyi’s current state, only a crazy person would choose her.

The young girl who was full of vitality when she first got into the car had now wilted like she was deprived of water.

Meng Xingshu’s gaze landed on her slightly lowered head, her voice softening: “How can you say you don’t have a work? Wasn’t the one you were doing a few weeks ago one?”

Ji Youyi paused, answering ambiguously: “Not exactly.”

To Ji Youyi, “Thousand Gold Bones” was already close to becoming past tense.

Her name wasn’t in the main creator list. She didn’t need to participate in any subsequent promotional work. Her name wasn’t at the beginning of the film either. It was hidden in the middle section of the cast list, sliding past rapidly at the end of the film.

Taking money to do a job, drawing a clean break was only right.

Ji Youyi didn’t really want to chat about this drama. Just as she was about to say a few witty words to steer the topic away, she heard the other party’s voice tilt slightly upward: “Then that’s good.”

Good for what? Ji Youyi stared blankly at Meng Xingshu’s profile, somewhat bewildered.

In the deep night, the secluded street was completely silent, with only the night breeze gently blowing, unhurriedly swaying the tall trees by the roadside.

The bright moon hung high, and cherry-pink flowers slowly fell along the trajectory of the wind, with a few petals landing on the car’s front windshield.

“I thought you wanted to develop at the platform and wouldn’t be able to help me.” Meng Xingshu casually parked the car under a tree, turning her head to look at Ji Youyi. “I recently have thoughts of transitioning into a producer, but I don’t know where to start. It just so happens that you are free during this period. Are you willing to guide me hand-in-hand to do a project?”

On the first day they met, Ji Youyi felt that Meng Xingshu was extremely beautiful. Especially those eyes, whose shape resembled soft petals, yet the pitch-black pupils were incredibly deep, as if possessing a magic power to seize oxygen.

As Ji Youyi looked on, her breathing inexplicably grew chaotic.

She hurriedly averted her gaze, staring at the gently swaying fallen flowers on the windshield for a few seconds before finally catching back her running breath, organizing the information she had just received in her mind—

The big movie queen wanted to transition into a producer?

The film and television circle was very small, and it was common for insiders to switch roles. There were quite a few top actresses who transitioned behind the scenes, but who transitioned at such a young age?

“Are you not acting anymore?” Ji Youyi asked.

“I haven’t encountered a good script for the time being, and I also want to try a new identity.”

“Oh oh, that’s quite good.” Ji Youyi echoed, yet she felt that even if Meng Xingshu wanted to be a producer, there was no reason to ask her for help. “I actually have very little producing experience. Wouldn’t it be better if you asked your company or simply asked President Lin?”

“Their projects are too large, and the risks are also large. Finding you to start together from small projects will give me less pressure.”

Meng Xingshu gazed at Ji Youyi, speaking unhurriedly: “You said before that as long as it can help me, you won’t hesitate to do it. Has this favor made you feel put in a difficult position?”

“Of course not!” Ji Youyi said hurriedly.

Meng Xingshu gave a soft “En,” her gaze shallow and beautiful, yet the words she spoke left Ji Youyi absolutely no room for refusal:

“Then it’s settled. I know you are very busy during the day, so before the project takes its initial shape, I hope to occupy the time on your way home every night to learn from you. If you have any other spare time, please trouble yourself to inform me as well, alright?”

The clear, cool timbre was soaked in the moonlight, actually revealing a bit of tenderness. Ji Youyi looked back into Meng Xingshu’s eyes, and the breath she had managed to find with great difficulty went chaotic again.

Sparing a thought to catch it, when she opened her mouth, she stammered a bit: “Of… of course.”

At four o’clock in the morning, Ji Youyi finished her shower, pulled out her laptop, squatted in front of the computer, and opened the browser.

In the car, she had clumsily agreed to do a project with Meng Xingshu. Now that she had calmed down and thought about it, there were still some problems.

The core was just one point: fear of failure.

It wasn’t that she lacked confidence in her own ability.

The reason Ji Youyi was able to become a famous director at a young age in her original world was because she achieved an industry miracle—the works she directed had never lost money.

As a commercial film director, her movies had been criticized for lacking depth and substance, but absolutely no one would criticize her for lacking box office.

She was a wholesaler of nutritionless popcorn movies, whereas Meng Xingshu was precisely the opposite. She had won so many Best Actress awards and carried a detached, scholarly aura about her; one look and you knew she was an artist.

If the big movie queen didn’t interfere with the creation, it would be fine. But if she had ideas, and their two styles couldn’t blend, leading to wavering in decisions, the probability of shooting a terrible film would naturally grow large.

To cooperate well, in terms of both reason and emotion, Ji Youyi had to understand Meng Xingshu and Meng Xingshu’s works beforehand.

Ji Youyi typed out a string of pinyin. Supported by the vocabulary database, the input method automatically popped up the celebrity’s name.

Just as her thumb hovered above the spacebar about to press down, she pulled it back as if receiving an electric shock.

She swiftly darted a glance at the tightly closed bedroom door, her finger subconsciously pressing the backspace key, deleting the entire string of pinyin.

What was she feeling guilty about?

Ji Youyi fiercely scolded herself in her heart. Her searching Meng Xingshu was for the sake of better work; she was completely open and upright, okay!

With absolute openness, Ji Youyi entered the pinyin once more. After finishing entering, her ten fingers fought a battle in the air, and ultimately, they landed on the backspace key again, deleting it all.

Ji Youyi cast a blaming look at her disobedient right fingers, unable to understand the other party’s actions.

What information about Meng Xingshu was there that she couldn’t look at?

It wasn’t like she hadn’t searched before. Back in the hospital when she was confirming Meng Xingshu’s identity with Li Zhulan, she had already checked the encyclopedia. Yes, the high-definition official photos were indeed beautiful, but so what?

The real person was even more beautiful than the official photos. She had already seen the real person so many times. She had long since become immune, alright!

After criticizing her unhearing hand, Ji Youyi made persistent efforts, continuing to input… and then deleting.

Inputting again, deleting again. Inputting again, deleting again.

Meng Xingshu

Meng Xingshu

Meng Xingshu

Meng Xingshu…

By the time Ji Youyi reacted, she had already entered that name repeatedly numerous times.

On the completely unchanged browser interface, the vertical cursor line hovering above those three characters was blinking rhythmically, like a beating heart.

Thump.

Thump!

Ji Youyi abruptly bounced up from her seat, closed the computer, and threw herself onto the bed.

Something seemed to be vibrating at her chest, causing the very tip of her heart to tingle. Ji Youyi frowned and pressed it. Pulling out her phone to look, it was already four-thirty.

Staying up late had made her heart uncomfortable. Continuing like this wouldn’t do. She had to sleep early. Tomorrow she still had to continue moving bricks at the film studios.

As for the matter of checking information… we’ll wait until there’s an opportunity in the future.

Before the phone screen went dark, Ji Youyi inadvertently caught a glimpse of the date. Today was the sixteenth day of the lunar month, which was the time when the moon was at its roundest.

She had forgotten to draw the curtains in the room. In the clear night sky, a full moon was precisely shining on her window.

The fragrance of rose essential oil quietly diffused inside the room, and fatigue rushed up like a tide.

Ji Youyi was too lazy to draw the curtains, choosing to bury her head under the blanket to sleep.

Between sleeping and waking, she unconsciously opened her eyes again to look at that full moon outside the window, thinking fuzzily—

A full moon seems to be some kind of good omen.

At five o’clock in the morning, before the alarm clock even had time to ring, Ji Youyi was first awakened by the bright morning light.

The night before she had only slept for half an hour, and she had slept in a daze. She stiffened her body on the bed, playing dead for ten minutes, before painfully climbing out of bed to wash up.

In the flower vase on the bathroom counter, the blooming irises were fresh and beautiful. Ji Youyi looked at the flowers while brushing her teeth, finally clearing her mind.

She had received her wages and now had money to buy breakfast herself. When she got up, she didn’t press the kitchen bell. Yet unexpectedly, the moment she went downstairs, she still saw the cooking auntie coming out with a food tray.

The tender tofu pudding was covered in sweet syrup. After a large bowl of warmth entered her stomach, Ji Youyi stepped out of the house and saw that the driver was already waiting outside.

Life in the Lingxing dormitory was comfortable to a degree that was extremely mismatched with her daily working routine.

Ji Youyi had originally wanted to move out as soon as possible, but since she had just taken on Meng Xingshu’s project last night, the plan to move out could only be postponed.

Besides, her bank card was still frozen, and she had no source of income. How could she afford to feel embarrassed? Being thick-skinned and continuing to stay was the right move.

As for the room fee, car fee, and meal fee she owed Lingxing… she would just owe them for now. Returning favors was a matter that couldn’t be rushed.

Those three big shots of Lingxing didn’t look like people who lacked money anyway. Instead of haggling over every penny in front of her, she might as well focus on improving herself first.

Eat when she should eat, ride when she should ride, and when they needed help, she would exert herself properly—look, just like now, wasn’t she about to teach Meng Xingshu producing.

Ji Youyi had the driver drop her off downstairs at a hotel.

Her luck was good. She had picked up a job as a makeup artist. The original makeup artist had a temporary matter and needed her to substitute for a morning. After she got this wage, she could still go interview for other positions, utilizing her time to a point close to perfection.

The crew was very small. There were only about ten characters that needed makeup, and they were shooting a modern theme, so the makeup was simple.

By the time Ji Youyi finished the makeup and styling for the entire crew, it wasn’t even nine o’clock. She took her money and left the hotel. Pulling out her phone, she unexpectedly saw a missed call from Wu Buxing.

Wu Buxing saw that the call didn’t go through, and instead of continuing to call like before, he left a message: “Director Ji, are you busy? When you’re finished, is it convenient to give me a call back? [Handshake] [Rose]”

Ji Youyi was puzzled. The final cut was just handed in yesterday, and early this morning they had already reviewed it and found a problem?

Hopefully there weren’t many places to change, so it wouldn’t delay her finding work.

She dialed the number back.

On that end, Wu Buxing’s tone was exceptionally enthusiastic: “Director Ji! You’re finished? I’ve been waiting for you! Ai ya, it’s like this, Director Ji. Is it convenient for you to come to H City right now?”

The words were somewhat familiar, except this time, the opposite person’s attitude was no longer high and mighty, but respectful to the point where it felt like he wished he could kneel down to her through the phone.

This was too bizarre. Ji Youyi wrinkled her face: “What’s the matter? Just say it directly.”

“No, no, no, Director Ji. I just want to invite you to a meal, haha. You were busy with the crew’s matters before, and I didn’t dare to disturb you either. Now that the drama has finished filming, if I don’t invite you, that would be my fault.”

Saying he wanted to invite her to a meal when it wasn’t even nine o’clock—this person was losing his mind.

The more polite Wu Buxing was, the more Ji Youyi felt nothing good was happening. She refused coldly: “No need. I’ve already entered another crew. I don’t have time.”

Wu Buxing was truly about to go crazy: “We must, we absolutely must! Director Ji, the car to pick you up has been waiting in D City since early this morning. Just waiting for a word from you, it will arrive immediately! How about this, can you ask for a leave from your crew? It will only delay you for a morning. All losses, I will compensate!”

Oh, he could give money. Ji Youyi grew interested: “Compensate how much?”

Wu Buxing grit his teeth: “All of it!”

Ji Youyi thought about it, switched out of the call interface, and entered two names into the browser. The first item that popped up was a trending hot spot.

“Exposure of Black Inside Stories in the Entertainment Industry: The Phenomenon of Stolen Credits in Film and Television Works is Rampant. Nominal Producers and Directors Directly Destroy the Industry Ecosystem!”

So it turned out that the previous two buyers had been exposed. Standing on the crest of the wave, they remembered her, this tainted artist.

Ji Youyi clicked into the news link, scanning it rapidly line by line, and said leisurely: “Fine, have them come pick me up.”