The artist coordinator was on the phone with Yan Muyu when the program’s life assistant emerged from the elevator, coffee in hand.
The variety show <A World Starting Anew> was being filmed in the suburbs beyond the Fifth Ring Road, where a dedicated base had been built for the actors to live in over the long haul.
Even the core management team for the show had relocated there with them.
As the country’s first fully live-streamed variety program, it boasted massive hype, with high-caliber guests and no shortage of top-tier actors competing.
Viewership for the episodes aired so far had shot through the roof, though the staff were run ragged like hawks in training, desperate for rotating shifts.
Coordinators dashed about nonstop, and the backstage area was a far cry from the polished glamour of the stage.
This time, though, the executive producer and chief producer were one and the same—a woman with no professional ties to the industry, yet undeniably an insider.
The younger sister of Yan Corporation’s president.
Yan Kai lay in the ICU following a car accident, and whether by foresight or necessity, he’d handed full control to Yan Muyu.
The team had initially braced for Young Boss Yan to be a tough nut to crack.
After all, she hadn’t dipped her toes in the industry much these past few years, quitting even her photography gigs for magazines.
But her track record over the first few episodes spoke volumes about her chops.
She came across as somewhat laid-back and half-invested, yet weirdly dependable when it counted.
With special guest Shen Tianqing sidelined by illness, the scramble for a replacement had been frantic.
After combing through options, the coordinators had landed on Qiu Chao from Autumn Tide Studio—the only one with an open slot right before filming kicked off, and the perfect fit besides.
If she signed on, it wouldn’t just be star power; it’d be a match made in heaven.
Coordinator lead Shen Xuantong had gotten the green light from Autumn Tide Studio just that evening.
Their schedule worked.
In other words: deal sealed!
Shen Xuantong’s hands shook with excitement, unnerving the group’s intern, who wondered if all-nighters had triggered some seizure.
“Leader, you okay?”
Shen Xuantong pressed a finger to her lips in a “shh” gesture.
A colleague from the next desk chuckled. “She’s pumped—about to share the good news with Producer Yan.”
The intern blinked. “Young Boss Yan?”
“I rode up in the elevator with her.”
Shen Xuantong let out a startled “ah” just as her thumb hit dial.
The call connected instantly, and at that precise moment, the glass door swung open. A tall woman strode in.
Yan Muyu’s hair was that recent blonde dye job, though black roots had started peeking through, giving her the effortless look of a mixed-race stunner.
She murmured a greeting into the phone while glancing their way.
The intern sank into her seat and whispered to her fellow newbie from the team: “Young Boss Yan’s skin is insanely fair.”
Her friend nodded, stabbing a straw into her bubble tea while eyeing the approaching woman’s figure and features.
“Cold porcelain skin and that light hair? Stunning even bare-faced.”
It left the blonde-dyed male team member across from them shifting uncomfortably.
Yan Muyu reached them and ended her call. She rapped her knuckles on the acrylic notepad atop Shen Xuantong’s desk. “Tongtong, what’s up?”
Shen Xuantong was several years Yan Muyu’s senior—both in their early thirties—but the married mother of one wore her maturity in every curve.
Everyone on the team called her “sis.”
Not Yan Muyu, though. She skipped the honorifics and full names alike, dubbing her “Tongtong” from day one when she’d inherited her brother Yan Kai’s duties, as if they’d been pals forever.
Shen Xuantong beamed. “Qiu Chao! That Qiu Chao actually agreed to be our replacement guest!”
Then she clocked it: Yan Muyu looked drained today.
The weather had swung from chill to mild, with folks already ditching long sleeves.
Yan Muyu—who typically left her shirts half-unbuttoned—had done hers up to the very top for once, reining in her innate rogue charm.
Certain people were born with eyes that smoldered, no feigned allure needed to turn heads.
Feeling under the weather?
Most folks didn’t peg Yan Muyu as pretty on first glance. Unapproachable, maybe.
Yet her face stayed lit with an easy, open grin, her every gesture radiating a boundless, gender-agnostic candor.
The standoffish vibe never stuck; it evaporated from memory fast.
Part of it was her voice—blandly unremarkable.
But her quirky pauses turned that anonymity into her signature.
Yan Muyu just said, “Oh.”
“She’s coming? Cool.”
Shen Xuantong recalled then that Qiu Chao had once been this Young Boss Yan’s sister-in-law.
That romance had been a quiet disaster—engaged on paper, no fanfare party, and a swift curtain call.
Still, you couldn’t deny those four years at Whale Entertainment had catapulted Qiu Chao to A-list stardom.
A rare flush of awkwardness hit the coordinator lead. She cleared her throat.
Yan Muyu slouched against the edge of the desk in their makeshift workspace, utterly unprofessional.
She swiped the coffee the intern assistant had set on Shen Xuantong’s desk.
“Mind if I snag this?”
Yan Muyu asked.
She stifled a yawn.
Up close, Shen Xuantong caught a whiff of her perfume.
Yan Muyu’s fluffy blonde locks tumbled over her eyes, veiling her brows, while her new white peach scent curled into nearby noses.
With one hand, she ripped open the paper straw wrapper, jammed it in, and gave the cup a shake.
Dull clinks from the ice cut the silence—no one dared speak.
Even the staff who usually shrugged off Yan Muyu sensed her foul mood.
Shen Xuantong ventured, “If you’re not feeling great, maybe skip it.”
It was past six, and the team ran on iced Americanos till the wee hours.
The boss couldn’t afford to crash like that.
With Big Boss Yan already down, if Yan Muyu keeled over from burnout, the company-backed crew would be toast.
Yan Muyu blew out a breath and licked her lips. “Next episode’s lineup all squared away?”
She lifted Qiu Chao’s file from Shen Xuantong’s desk.
Rookie profiles tended toward the gaudy; thin resumes demanded flash.
Qiu Chao needed no such crutch. A single photo was her calling card.
What said “famous” more bluntly than a face that launched a thousand ships?
She’d parlayed modeling into the lead in a blockbuster before her runway dreams even ignited.
Skipped the grind, straight to the stars.
“Full of potential” was rookie bait.
Qiu Chao had outgrown it ages ago, though haters still spat “gold-digger” alongside their envy.
A film star on the rise, shackled to a man so soon?
Yan Muyu’s gaze dropped, her bite mangling the straw flat. A faint throb pulsed from the cut on her lip.
Courtesy of the woman on the page, naturally.
Little Sister-in-Law’s chompers only sharpened with time.
Shen Xuantong replied, “All set. We’ll adjust follow-ups based on Director Shen’s status.”
“Tentative plan’s an old flick—no massive fight scenes feasible, but a gun disassembly bit.”
Yan Muyu hummed acknowledgment, then drew a deep breath. “Just go public with it.”
Shen Xuantong hesitated. “We haven’t inked the contract with Qiu Chao’s side yet.”
Paper straws soured fast in the mouth, the iced Americano’s bite lodging in Yan Muyu’s throat.
Her jaw still ached from Qiu Chao’s handiwork.
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. She won’t flake.”
Shen Xuantong nodded.
Yan Muyu had zero downtime anyway. She traded no further words with Shen Xuantong before turning on her heel.
Towering as she was, she lacked the crisp OL polish of a corporate shark.
Mingling with overtime post-production hounds had nudged her style sporty and youthful—no one’d guess her thirties.
Once Yan Muyu vanished through the door, the intern piped up. “Why do I feel like Young Boss Yan’s all inflamed? She’s got a mouth sore.”
Shen Xuantong laughed. “Kids these days.”
The intern grinned. “Just putting it nicely. We all see it.”
The other intern chimed in with a nod. “Adult stuff, y’know.”
A collective sigh rose. “Heard all her exes are knockout beauties. She’s deep in the rainbow.”
“Pan as hell, but beauties only—no compromises.”
“Totally. That supermodel ex? Mega famous. Those legs… ugh.”
“Wasn’t there a French makeup YouTuber too? Huge following—her girlfriend back in the day…”
“She’s gotta be the top dog. Young Boss Yan’s pure top energy… When she grabbed that coffee, I swear…”
With no live stream rolling and downtime aplenty, the interns chattered freely.
Shen Xuantong let it slide, tossing in: “That aura just hooks you?”
“Exactly!”
“I Googled her once—she’s chief designer for, y’know…”
“Heh, ladies’ toys? Nailed it! Didn’t she major in that overseas?”
“Boss babe. Pro-level there, snaps mag covers as a side hustle—top photog for the big four. No wonder the girlfriends line up…”
“But she’s single now, right?”
“Adults… ahem… needs must!”
Yan Muyu trudged back to her office, too wiped to fret if she’d broadcast her fatigue.
She was beat.
Lunch between morning and afternoon had felt like a quest across realms.
Intimacy demanded mutual fire, yet Qiu Chao—this Pillow Princess—had all but coerced her.
For all her romantic conquests, Yan Muyu had met her match in Qiu Chao alone.
It was an exceptionally wild exception, both in bed and out.
Too intense—it left Yan Muyu lightheaded and stumbling as she tried to put on her shoes. The woman on the bed, fresh from her shower, lay there savoring the afterglow, clutching a pillow as she murmured about a next visit.
Next time, her foot.
Yan Muyu drew in a deep breath and slumped into her swivel chair, spinning idly for a moment before diving into work.
Time flew by. She powered through the stack of documents needing her approval and sat through the routine meetings, her expression impassive. But the moment work cleared from her mind, her thoughts flooded right back to Qiu Chao.
“Have I really gone that long without a proper relationship?”
Outside, night had fully fallen. Dinner time had come and gone.
Her assistant brought a late meal, but Yan Muyu had no appetite for it.
She stood there in a daze for a while longer until her phone buzzed with a notification—Lin Chi had shared a Weibo post.
@A World Starting Anew Official Weibo: A new episode is coming soon! Fresh pics of this episode’s replacement guest are here~ [Image][Image] Can’t wait for her to join us~
The promo was playing it safe, but the reposts were anything but.
Who reposts something like that before the official reveal?
@Qiu Chao: A promise is a promise! Heading to your world now~//
Lin Chi: That was fast?
Lin Chi: Didn’t you say you’d die before riding Qiu Chao’s coattails?
Yan Muyu stared at her phone’s Weibo screen, her eyes lingering on that “a promise is a promise” for a long moment.
She jabbed viciously at the voice message button.
“You don’t know shit! This is the payoff for busting my ass all day!”
Lin Chi sent back a question mark.
Yan Muyu didn’t know how to explain it either.
But Qiu Chao’s star power was undeniable.
A megastar of her caliber making her variety show debut as a replacement guest? Her fans weren’t thrilled.
[Why?! Why isn’t Qiu Chao’s first variety show a full-time spot?!?!]
[Is this show even that big?? Why is Qiu Chao replacing Shen Tianqing?]
[Who even is Shen Tianqing? Not an actress, right?]
[Live variety show!!! Count me in!!! We get live footage of Qiu Qiu!! Waaah, so excited!]
[I swear this show’s producer is from Yan Kai’s company… So was that blocked news about Qiu Chao’s car accident with her ex-fiancé true?]
[And those gossip accounts spilling tea that the show originally tapped Qiu Chao, but she backed out to avoid scandal…]
[Whoa, does that mean rekindled romance? Dropping her status to save the day?]
The office lights were still off. Yan Muyu stood alone by the bed, frowning as she scrolled through the comments.
She thought: What the hell is Qiu Chao doing? No fan moderation in sight?
Then irritation flared up again: Rekindled romance? This woman just broke up with my brother and now she’s in my bed—how the hell is she that devoted?
Worst of all, minutes later, Qiu Chao herself dropped into the comments.
Replying to the rekindled romance speculation:
-I joined because I felt like it.
Yan Muyu felt her kidneys ache.
That line from Qiu Chao hit like a voice message, ruining her whole day.
“Let’s go again”—and how many times had that happened now?
Qiu Chao really sucked at math.
