What to Do if You’re Being Targeted by the Superstar? [Entertainment] - Chapter 4

Several figures dressed in elaborate period costumes emerged from the set, accompanied by their assistants as they made their way toward the perimeter to greet the waiting fans. At the head of the group were the main leads of The Phoenix Rests on the Parasol Tree, seasoned actors who had enjoyed years of stardom. The crowd erupted instantly, with fans screaming names like “Song Yixiao!” and “Jiang Ling!” while thrusting letters and meticulously wrapped gifts forward.

Caught in the chaotic surge of the crowd, Sheng Zhinuan was jostled and pushed from side to side, yet her gaze never wavered from Yu Zi for a single second. Standing at the very back, Yu Zi was a vision in ethereal, water-blue silk. A delicate crown rested upon her head, making her look as though she had stepped directly out of the pages of a classic legend.

Despite her striking beauty, there were almost no fans in the crowd who recognized her. While the other actors were being showered with affection and tributes, Yu Zi stood empty-handed, forced to wait in the shadows of her more famous colleagues.

Watching the polite but strained smile on Yu Zi’s face, Zhinuan felt a sharp pang of regret for failing to prepare a proper gift. She began to rummage frantically through her canvas bag, searching for anything of value, but her fingers only found a single pack of pocket tissues.

It was an embarrassingly meager offering.

As Zhinuan hesitated, several fans began to prop up large, flashy standing banners for the main leads, making the lack of representation for Yu Zi even more glaring. Seeing the flicker of disappointment deepen in Yu Zi’s eyes, Zhinuan cast her pride aside and shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Yu Zi!”

“Yu Zi! Can you accept a gift?”

Standing in the rear, Yu Zi blinked in surprise, her attention caught by a girl waving her hand frantically from the heart of the crowd. Though the girl wore a face mask, her determination was clear as she fought her way toward the front. Yu Zi took a couple of instinctive steps forward, and Zhinuan finally managed to break through the throng to reach her.

Zhinuan reached out and pressed the item she was clutching into Yu Zi’s hand.

“Yu Zi, keep going!” Zhinuan’s face was burning hot beneath her mask. Giving someone a pack of tissues was something she had never imagined herself doing in her entire life.

“I wasn’t prepared with a proper gift, but I truly, deeply like you. I hope you don’t mind this. Next time, I promise I’ll have something ready…” Zhinuan stared directly into Yu Zi’s eyes, her voice trembling with a sincerity that was almost overwhelming. Before she could even finish her sentence, the surging crowd pushed her back toward the rear.

“Next time, I’ll definitely bring a real gift when I come to see you!” Zhinuan shouted back toward the actress, her voice filled with an urgent promise.

Yu Zi stood still for a moment, looking down at the object in her palm. A pack of tissues? Under any other circumstances, she might have dismissed the item as a prank or a joke. But that girl…

Her eyes had been so bright and remarkably honest. She had promised to be better prepared next time.

Her little assistant, Yirui, glanced at the item and let out a huff of disbelief. “What on earth is that? Here, Sister, give it to me so I can toss it.”

Instead of handing it over, Yu Zi gripped the small package tightly and tucked it into the pocket of her coat.

“Let’s go,” she said softly.

*******

On her way back to the cramped rental room, Sheng Zhinuan made a sharp turn into a boutique gift shop located just outside the gates of a nearby middle school.

This segment of the story offers a striking contrast between the protagonist’s high-society background and the gritty reality of her investigative work, all while maintaining her growing obsession with Yu Zi. In my translation, I have focused on the rhythmic flow you prefer, using connective verbs to bridge her internal reflections with the external chaos of the factory and the storm.

Having noticed how beautifully the other fans had packaged their letters, Sheng Zhinuan spent a great deal of time selecting two sets of floral stationery and several delicate envelopes. Back in her cramped rental, she sat by the window and stared at the paper in a daze. She had never written a fan letter before, and she found herself questioning the impulse.

In her twenty-four years, she had never once worried about the art of gift-giving; her affluent background meant that any gesture she made was inherently polished and impressive. Yet, writing a letter felt like an entirely different challenge. She held her pen for hours as a whirlwind of thoughts crossed her mind. She wanted to tell Yu Zi how she had been captivated from the very first moment they met and how she spent countless nights editing her photos while wishing for her success. Ultimately, she could only manage two simple lines:

I hope Yu Zi is happy every day.

I hope Yu Zi has a brilliant future.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, leaning back in frustration. As a journalist, she was never at a loss for words when writing a report, yet when it came to Yu Zi, a thousand sentiments felt trapped behind a dam. Fearing she would have nothing to offer the next time they met, she reluctantly tucked the sheet into an envelope.

That night, sleep was elusive. The memory of the cockroach she had seen earlier made her skin crawl, and she felt as though tiny eyes were watching her from every dark corner of the room. It was only when she began scrolling through videos of Yu Zi, watching that gentle smile on her screen, that her restless mind finally settled into sleep.

*****

The following morning, Mr. Huang woke her with a loud knock and a simple breakfast of a plain bun and a boiled egg. “Eat up,” he urged. “It’s time to go to the factory for your interview.”

Zhinuan changed into a loose, stretched-out T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. She applied a layer of dull, grayish foundation to hide her natural glow and back-combed her hair until it looked frizzy and unkempt before tying it into a loose ponytail.

“I have to say, I’m impressed by your commitment to the wardrobe,” Mr. Huang remarked with a nod of approval.

They headed out on his electric scooter, and Zhinuan was officially introduced as “Sheng Xiaonuan,” his distant cousin from the countryside. As they passed the entrance to the movie studio, Zhinuan saw that fans were already gathered in the early light, and she resolved to visit again after her shift.

The hiring process at the food factory was alarmingly lax. Zhinuan stood among a group of young women, many of whom had dyed hair and multiple piercings, appearing weary as they smoked cheap cigarettes. Compared to them, Zhinuan felt like a raw recruit.

The man in charge was a balding, middle-aged supervisor with a sweat-stained shirt and a predatory gaze. Zhinuan watched with a tightened jaw as he took crude liberties with some of the girls, but she forced herself to maintain her character—meek, stuttering, and dull.

“I… my name is Sheng Xiaonuan. My cousin is Mr. Huang,” she stammered, keeping her eyes downcast. Her lackluster performance was a success; the supervisor found her uninteresting and waved her through. She was handed an oversized, foul-smelling uniform and funneled directly onto the assembly line.

The factory was a vast, walled-off compound that felt like an isolated island. Security was tight, with guards patrolling the perimeter and metal detectors at every entrance to ensure no recording devices made it inside. Zhinuan realized she would eventually need more specialized equipment from the headquarters to bypass these measures.

She was assigned to the packaging department. While she would have preferred the production line—where the illegal additives were likely used—she had no choice but to start where she was told. The work was numbing and repetitive, and by the time her lunch break arrived, her neck was stiff with exhaustion. The factory canteen was a chaotic mess, and the watery meal was nearly impossible to swallow.

Zhinuan felt a profound sense of relief when her shift finally ended at 5:30 PM, but a torrential downpour immediately greeted her. Since Mr. Huang was staying late, she “borrowed” the umbrella from his scooter and eventually managed to hail a taxi once she was far enough away from the plant.

The heavy rain had washed the streets of H-City clean, leaving them nearly deserted. As the taxi passed the back gate of the movie studio, Zhinuan peered out the window and spotted a familiar figure standing alone in the gray veil of the storm.

Yu Zi? Is she by herself?

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