Chapter 39: World Two

Lu Wuqi had no idea that Special Assistant Wan and Liu Qingqing were worrying about her safety. After handing over the hot potato of the CEO position, she took a plane to Coast Mouth and brought her parents’ bodies back home.

Taking her parents’ habits in life into account, Lu Wuqi didn’t hold a lavish funeral. She simply called everyone on the list provided by Special Assistant Wan to notify them of the time and place. In the end, she buried them in the cemetery they had jokingly picked out while alive.

Lu Wuqi had no intention of hiding her parents’ accident from her girlfriend. After bringing them back, she wanted to call and tell her right away.

But some things just don’t go as planned. When she found she couldn’t get through, Lu Wuqi finally noticed the earlier message. Lin Qingxu had temporarily received notice from the director for a half-month closed shoot. The production team wanted the main actors to truly experience life from the 1960s and 1970s, so all electronic devices like phones were confiscated. They would be out of touch for a while, leaving only the crew’s contact info.

Lu Wuqi hesitated. Relaying something like this through the crew seemed odd, especially since their relationship wasn’t public yet. So she didn’t make the call and decided to wait until her girlfriend finished the closed shoot.

Perhaps Lu Bo and Lu Su still had a shred of conscience. After the funeral, they stayed quiet for a while. This gave Liu Qingqing and Special Assistant Wan some preparation time, and allowed Lu Wuqi to sort through all her assets.

The shares in Wanbang Group were the biggest chunk, but they were untouchable. To maintain control over Wanbang Group, she couldn’t let go of even one percent of the fifty-one percent stake.

Besides the Wanbang Group shares, Lu Wuqi held stakes in nearly thirty different companies. They were all single-digit percentages like three or five percent, but together they were worth over ten billion and spanned many industries.

As the heir to a real estate conglomerate, Lu Wuqi owned a ton of property under her name, with residences and storefronts in basically every first- and second-tier city in the country.

The regular large apartments and shops were mostly managed by real estate agents, bringing in nine-figure rental income every year.

The rarer premium properties were kept for her personal use. They got professional cleaning twice a month, and she occasionally rented them out for ten days or half a month to cover maintenance costs and break even.

Lu Wuqi had dabbled in many industries, but entering the entertainment business was a first. Registering a new company, hiring staff, signing and grooming artists—it all seemed too slow to her.

After taking stock of her assets, Lu Wuqi first investigated her girlfriend’s agency.

It had ten million in registered capital and had been around for a decade. Its most famous artist had just gotten a Best Actress nomination, plus two others with Best Supporting Actress wins.

Lin Qingxu was in the company’s second tier, getting some resource priority but not much favoritism.

Once Lu Wuqi confirmed Yanghe Entertainment was running smoothly with healthy public financials, she regretfully shelved the idea of acquiring it. Instead, she turned to smaller companies at the million-yuan scale.

After some shopping around, Lu Wuqi picked a company about two years old with fewer than a hundred employees total—but ten signed artists.

Five of them were minor internet influencers who shot videos and took ads to make money for the company. The other five were barely-on-screen supporting roles—the kind whose names appeared in the credits but not the official announcements. Edge players.

After dropping three million, the little company called Dahai changed hands. Lu Wuqi parachuted in as owner with ninety percent controlling shares.

She didn’t fire the current management, though. Instead, she tossed another million to the near-bankrupt outfit as operating funds, then packed her bags and flew to Hengdian to see her dear girlfriend.

–

“Xuxu!” Lu Wuqi waved, took off her sunglasses, and pulled her long-unseen girlfriend into a big hug.

“Xiao Qi.” Lin Qingxu was thrilled too. She buried her face in Lu Wuqi’s neck. “Don’t you have deadlines to meet lately? How do you have time to visit me?”

“I didn’t take any new gigs, and some stuff happened at home recently.” Lu Wuqi’s tone dipped a bit, but she quickly changed the subject. “Are you off for half a day today or a full day?”

There were too many eyes around—not the place for certain talks. Better save it for tonight.

“A full day off, but I need to go observe the leads’ shoot.” Lin Qingxu picked up on Lu Wuqi’s off mood but figured it was just some bad stuff, not a family death.

So she didn’t pry, just softened her voice. “I’ll hang with you in Hengdian this morning. This afternoon, I’ll talk to the director—we can observe together, okay?”

“Xiao Qi, any spots you wanna check out?” Lin Qingxu asked. “Some of Hengdian’s sets are super authentic. Wandering around might lift your spirits.”

“Sure, leave it to you, Xuxu. I’m not familiar with the place,” Lu Wuqi said.

“You got it!” Lin Qingxu promised, giving her girlfriend’s arm a squeeze.

Was it her imagination? Her girlfriend’s formerly squishy arm felt springier. Had she been sneaking in workouts?

Lu Wuqi hadn’t snuck anything—she’d gone full-on legit with a pro trainer and nutritionist.

The half-month results showed: her weight went from ninety kilos to ninety-four, and her body fat rate normalized a bit.

They’d planned a morning stroll, but Lu Wuqi arrived in Hengdian around ten. After two hours admiring the unique outdoor sets, they ended up in a private dining room.

“This is a local specialty, made the old way. Try it,” Lin Qingxu said enthusiastically, picking food for her. No celebrity airs in front of her girlfriend.

Before Lin Qingxu could set her chopsticks down, her phone—set to silent—vibrated. Seeing Sister Jin’s name, her eyelids twitched. She held up a finger to Lu Wuqi: shush.

“Hey, Sister Jin. What’s up?”

“I’m outside getting some air. No scenes for me today.”

“What? Director Li told you? Uh, well, I’m just showing a friend around. She’s curious about set life.”

“Okay, you got me, Sister Jin. It’s my girlfriend.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been careful the whole way. No paparazzi tailed us. Just say it’s a friend visiting set—no one will think twice.”

“Really? Thanks, Sister Jin! I’ll work hard on set, promise. You focus on promo with the newbie—no issues here.”

After three minutes soothing her bristly agent, Lin Qingxu exhaled and shared the good news with Lu Wuqi first thing.

“Xiao Qi, Director Li says you can observe. But you’ll sign an NDA, and no photos or videos during.”

Lu Wuqi nodded, pleasantly surprised. “Got it. I’ll put my phone away once we’re in.”

They finished lunch together, then Lu Wuqi swung by Lin Qingxu’s hotel to grab the script from her room.

Checking the time on her phone, Lu Wuqi couldn’t help asking, “Does the crew always start so late in the afternoon? It’s almost three.”

“Shoot times vary daily. Today it’s afternoon and night scenes,” Lin Qingxu said. She touched up her makeup in the mirror, then added a hat and sunglasses.

The hotel was close to the set. Their van got them there in under ten minutes.

Lu Wuqi hung the security pass around her neck and smoothly entered the set with Lin Qingxu. They got seated in a back corner.

“Today’s mostly leads’ scenes. It’s a 1960s-70s story, slated for around National Day,” Lin Qingxu whispered. “Heard it’s locked for CCTV—praising the older generation.”

Lu Wuqi nodded. Patriotic themes like that were safe bets. Smooth airing meant a boost for the main cast’s careers.

Truth be told, Lu Wuqi wasn’t that into set-watching. But seeing her girlfriend pull out her script to jot notes, she couldn’t resist taking out paper and pen to sketch characters with her fountain pen.

Who was she drawing? Her dear girlfriend, seriously taking notes, of course.

–

“Cut! Wrong vibe—take it again.”

“Cut! More emotion! Where’s that state you built up? Recall it!”

“Stop, stop! Go memorize your lines! Was that your line?”

Less than an hour in, things hit a snag. The female lead suddenly lost her groove—five or six takes, none passed.

“Director Li, cool it. Teacher Xiao Chu might be tired. Break time?” The male lead tried smoothing things.

“Sorry, Director Li. Stayed up late reviewing the script—no good rest,” the female lead chimed in.

Director Li adjusted his glasses, unimpressed. He scanned the crew, his gaze landing on note-taking Lin Qingxu.

“Lin Qingxu, come here.” Director Li called through the megaphone, waving her over.

Lin Qingxu didn’t overthink it. She grabbed her script and went. “Director, you need me?”

“You read today’s script?” Director Li asked. Main cast had full scripts for deeper role immersion.

“Yeah. It’s the argument scene,” Lin Qingxu said.

“Good. Demo suppressed anger for us. Use the script if needed—I just want your tone.”

Lin Qingxu licked her lips. She glimpsed the female lead’s sour face but nodded after two seconds.

“I hope you hold off on judgments till you check the facts. The Chairman said women hold up half the sky—why couldn’t we women do what you men can?

“You’re calling me a faker? I say you’re biased, looking down on women everywhere!”

…

She didn’t even need the script for under three hundred words. Give her minutes, and she’d memorize it all.

“Yes! That’s the tone! Facial expressions on point too!” Director Li slapped his thigh, eyes gleaming with appreciation.

“Xiao Chu, when you got time, run lines with Qingxu. She’s drama school trained—solid basics, tons to learn from her.” Director Li heaped praise on Lin Qingxu, inwardly regretting a bit.

If only Lin Qingxu had more fans and buzz. He’d have cast her as lead—saved a third of shoot time!

The female lead was a traffic star, debuting three years ago via a talent show. Her looks and vocals won fans big-time; capital and stans kept her propped up.

Hearing Director Li say she fell short of Lin Qingxu—and should learn from her—soured her mood.

She wouldn’t mouth off in front of the director, so she pinched her nose and agreed to study it.

But when he headed to the break room, she stormed over to Lin Qingxu, face dark, to claw back some face.

“Teacher Lin, you debuted a year before me, but know our difference. If you don’t want issues with my scenes, stay off set. You’re throwing off my groove.”