Why Does The "Fishing Queen" Always Flirt With Me? - Chapter 6

On the day of the opening ceremony for The Eldest Princess, Tang Wangyue arrived at the studio entrance on her mountain bike, only to be stopped at the gate.

“Sorry, there’s a shoot in progress. No unauthorized personnel allowed.”

Mo Lai, who had been waiting for her, rushed over the moment she heard the commotion. “Officer, she’s one of our screenwriters. Here’s her ID.”

Mo Lai showed the credentials to the security guard before hanging the badge around Wangyue’s neck.

“Keep this on for the first few days,” Mo Lai advised. “Once everyone recognizes you, you can do whatever you want. Or at least take a photo of it and keep it on your phone.”

“Got it.” Wangyue looked down at the badge: Production of ‘The Eldest Princess’ — Screenwriting Team: Tang Wangyue.

The photo wasn’t bad; she was satisfied.

“Want a lift?” Wangyue patted her bike frame.

Mo Lai rolled her eyes. “On what? The tire?”

The mountain bike was a new purchase, and Wangyue hadn’t even considered installing a back seat.

“Haha, see you there then!”

Wangyue grinned, pushed off with her foot, and coasted into the studio grounds.

A moment later, Mo Lai caught up on an electric scooter. “You think you’re the only one with wheels?”

The film city wasn’t huge—the sets were all concentrated in one town—so an e-scooter was the perfect way to get around. Mo Lai had bought one as soon as she arrived. She laughed loudly as she zipped past. “Loser pays for dinner!”

Wangyue gave her friend a deadpan look. This was a professional-grade mountain bike; if she actually tried, she wouldn’t necessarily be slower than a scooter.

Mo Lai called back over her shoulder, “Yue! About those Jagerwave tickets—is it okay if they aren’t floor seats?”

“No way. Either floor seats or you give me two of your limited-edition figurines.”

Wangyue followed Mo Lai, as she didn’t know the layout of the lot yet.

“In your dreams!” Mo Lai shouted back. “Floor seats it is, then. But listen—if you agree to take one less ticket, I’ll take you to get a photo with Yun Chuxian.”

“I’m telling you, she’s ten times more beautiful in person than on TV. You won’t regret it.”

Wangyue hesitated. How was she supposed to explain that she had already met the great Yun Chuxian? And that Mo Lai was right—the actress was indeed far more stunning in person.

But whatever happened between her and Yun Chuxian had to stay secret. It didn’t matter much to Wangyue, but a scandal would be disastrous for a star of Chuxian’s caliber.

“No deal,” Wangyue replied firmly. The tickets weren’t just about the money; they were nearly impossible to snag.

Mo Lai groaned, thinking about the nightmare of trying to book those tickets on multiple devices. “You’re ruthless, Tang Wangyue!”

Wangyue ignored the jab and followed her onto the set. “By the way, where am I staying tonight?”

“A hotel. I dipped into my own pocket to upgrade you to a suite. Happy?” Mo Lai parked her scooter, looking like a puppy begging for a treat.

Wangyue chuckled, then gave a skeptical hum. “The truth, please.”

“Okay, fine. This was the last single room available. Did you really want to share a room with a stranger? Let’s just call it ‘sisterly love’.” Mo Lai rolled her eyes. “Why is it so hard to fool you?”

Wangyue couldn’t help but laugh. “In your mom’s words: the moment you open your mouth, I know exactly what you’re up to.”

Mo Lai’s mother was Wangyue’s godmother. Their families had supported each other through many hardships, forging a deep bond. In reality, Mo Lai’s family was quite wealthy—her mother was a high-powered CEO. When Wangyue’s mother had gone through her divorce and property settlement, it was the godmother who had hired the lawyers to ensure everything went smoothly.

Wangyue suddenly nudged Mo Lai’s shoulder. “Hey, do you think the B-unit gets to see the A-unit actors?”

“Don’t call me ‘hey,’ it creeps me out when you’re being nice.” Mo Lai mock-shivered. She had been a bit of a rebel growing up and had been put in her place by Wangyue more than a few times.

However, Mo Lai knew that if it hadn’t been for Wangyue and her mother, her own mom might never have found the courage to leave a bad situation. They were the ones who helped her escape the mire.

Seeing the expectant look in Wangyue’s eyes, Mo Lai grew curious. “I thought you weren’t interested in Yun Chuxian?”

Wangyue cleared her throat. “Never mind then.”

“No, no, I’ll tell you! Since you asked, Big Sis will provide.” Mo Lai gave a mischievous grin. “In the later scenes, Yun Chuxian has to film with my unit. You’ll have plenty of chances to see her.”

That was the source of Mo Lai’s excitement. Any director who worked with Yun Chuxian saw a massive boost to their resume. When Mo Lai chose to study directing, her mother had been against it and refused to give her any resources, insisting she make it on her own. Now, she was finally making a name for herself.

As Wangyue stood lost in thought, Mo Lai tugged at her sleeve. “Come on, let’s go to the opening ceremony. After that, I’ll have someone take you to the hotel.”

“No filming today?” Wangyue had only been on set once before and wasn’t entirely familiar with the workflow.

“The main director is shooting. As the assistant director, I’m shadowing her today, then I move to the B-unit tomorrow.”

They walked onto the main set just as the ceremony was about to begin. The moment Mo Lai appeared, people started calling for her.

“Director Mo, over here! We’ve been looking for you.”

“Director Mo, the Chief Director wants to see you.”

Mo Lai turned to Wangyue. “I have to run. Stay close to the set, and I’ll introduce you to the other writers in a bit.”

“Sure.”

Wangyue found a quiet corner where she wouldn’t be in the way. She watched the bustle of the crew like an outside observer. She had always enjoyed taking a “bird’s-eye view” of life, watching the world go by from a distance.

It reminded her of her childhood, sitting on stone steps with a little yellow dog, watching people walk through the alleyway. She hadn’t stayed there by choice back then; her mother had told her that whenever her father was drinking, she had to stay outside until the shop across the street turned its lights on.

Since then, she had developed a habit of people-watching, weaving stories in her head about the strangers she saw. That was likely why she had chosen to become a writer.

“Excuse me, are you Screenwriter Tang?”

A sweet-looking girl interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes, hello.” Wangyue stood up and nodded politely.

“I’m Le Qing, Director Mo’s assistant. You can just call me Xiao Qing.”

“Alright.” Wangyue offered a polite smile. “Where is Director Mo?”

“She’s busy, so she asked me to take you to the writers’ tent first. Once the ceremony is over, I’ll take you to your hotel.”

Le Qing took a moment to study the writer. She was strikingly attractive. Wearing straight-leg trousers, a black sleeveless top, and an unbuttoned olive-drab shirt with a baseball cap, she looked effortlessly cool. Her features were delicate yet carried a certain sharp, spirited energy. She didn’t wear makeup, but she looked clean, fresh, and naturally beautiful.

Xiao Qing couldn’t help but wonder if a girl this pretty was about to be bullied into tears by the other two writers.

The current writing team consisted of a man and a woman who fought constantly. The female writer insisted on following the original novel to the letter, while the male writer was hell-bent on cramming his own “original ideas” into the script. Even today, they were glaring at each other as if trying to bore holes in one another’s heads.

Now a third writer had arrived. Whether this would stabilize the triangle or leave Wangyue caught in the crossfire was anyone’s guess.

Unaware of the assistant’s worries, Wangyue simply smiled. “Lead the way.”

The Eldest Princess was a high-budget production. They had set up a proper air-conditioned tent for the writers to provide a better creative environment. In lower-budget crews, a writer was lucky to even have a chair.

As she stepped inside, the cool air hit her—a blessed relief from the summer heat. However, it looked like the tent wasn’t strictly for the writers.

Xiao Qing led her to a desk and introduced her to the others. “The other two writers are both here. This is Screenwriter Tang; she’ll be working with you from now on.”

“Screenwriter Tang, this is Mr. Liu Cheng and Ms. Lu Zhan.”

Wangyue offered a perfectly polite smile. “Hello, everyone. I’m Tang Wangyue.”

Lu Zhan, the female writer, looked up and smiled back. “Hi there.”

Liu Cheng, however, just turned to the assistant. “Has the director seen her yet?”

“The director is busy. She said she’d meet her once things settle down.”

Liu Cheng was testing the waters. The director’s attitude would determine Wangyue’s standing in the crew. But the way Xiao Qing phrased it made it hard to tell if the director actually cared about Wangyue or not.

“Hello! I’m Miss Yun Chuxian’s assistant. She bought milk teas and coffees for everyone.”

Bai Yu walked in carrying a tray of drinks. She set them on the table, then specifically picked out a cup of honeysuckle and pomelo tea and handed it to Tang Wangyue.

“Screenwriter Tang, this one is for you.”

It was the only honeysuckle and pomelo tea; everyone else got standard coffee or milk tea. Bai Yu had made a point of handing it directly to her.

Wangyue’s heart skipped a beat. Was this a special request from Yun Chuxian?

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