Chapter 164: Trapped
Yu Tianchen’s words were cruel, cutting deep, but she had to admit, there was some truth to them.
Because of her naiveté, she had trusted Nangong Ying.
Because of her naiveté, she had entered the entertainment industry.
Because of her naiveté, she had been deceived, losing eighty million.
If she hadn’t been so naive, she wouldn’t be in this situation.
“Miss Yu, I think you understand this feeling more than anyone. But you’re no longer with Chenghe, so I shouldn’t be saying these things. If you could become the next Nangong Ying, perhaps your value would increase.”
Chenghe had initially planned to groom her into a star, perhaps not another Nangong Ying, but someone profitable, at least.
But that plan had been abandoned when Yu Linna terminated her contract.
Though they had received eighty million in compensation, in a way, profiting from her departure, Yu Linna herself had become worthless to them, just another pretty face.
“No, you would never have valued me,” she said, her voice tight with anger.
“Oh? Why do you say that?”
“Because in your eyes, I have no talent, no acting skills, no fame, and most importantly, I’m mixed-race. You would never give me a significant role.”
“…Heh.”
Yu Tianchen chuckled, not answering her directly.
She had a point.
“Without talent, venturing into this world… who’s to blame?”
Yu Linna lowered her head, unable to argue.
His words had struck a nerve.
She had been naive and ambitious, dreaming of stardom like Nangong Ying, abandoning everything for a world of glamour and excitement, only to be chased away, defeated.
“Linna?”
Tang Yumeng, emerging from the audition room, saw Yu Linna talking to the middle-aged man, her demeanor unusual, and immediately sensed something was wrong. She rushed over, protectively placing herself between Yu Linna and the man, glaring at him.
“Mr. Yu Tianchen, what do you want with her?”
She didn’t care who he was; if he dared to bully her junior, she wouldn’t hesitate to intervene.
Yu Tianchen smiled, glancing at his watch, as if realizing he had lingered too long, wasting his time.
“I meant no harm. Miss Yu used to be one of our actresses at Chenghe. I was just… catching up. It’s getting late. I should be going. Miss Yu, until we meet again.”
He smiled and walked away, his composure unwavering, a calmness that only fueled Yu Linna’s anger.
“Never again,” she muttered.
She hated Chenghe, everything about it, yet she felt powerless against them, trapped in their web. She was too weak, unable to fight back.
And…
His words…
They were… too much.
The memory of being rescued from human traffickers resurfaced, the circumstances of her capture a blur. Yu Tianchen’s words had awakened a deep-seated fear.
She was insecure, constantly plagued by the fear that she had been sold by her own parents.
She couldn’t shake the thought.
What if it were true?
“Linna, are you okay? Yu Tianchen… he was your… boss?”
“Something like that… but I didn’t stay at Chenghe long. I terminated my contract.”
Tang Yumeng looked at her with a newfound understanding.
Chenghe, though a star-making factory, a place many aspired to enter, was notoriously difficult for young actresses, its rules complex and often exploitative.
Tang Yumeng, even with her struggling career, her meager income, refused to compromise her principles, unwilling to be controlled by Chenghe.
Learning that Yu Linna had been with Chenghe, she felt a mix of concern and curiosity. For a newcomer to have survived Chenghe… it was rare. Of the ten who entered, eight were… Only established A-list actresses could withstand Chenghe’s manipulation. Most newcomers were easily crushed.
“Don’t worry, Senior Yumeng. I’m not that desperate. I wouldn’t sell myself for a career.”
Tang Yumeng relaxed slightly, though her curiosity remained.
“If you were with Chenghe, why did you leave?”
“Because… I didn’t want to be controlled, so I escaped.”
“But Chenghe’s contract termination fees… they’re exorbitant. How did you afford it?”
Tang Yumeng wasn’t being judgmental; she was simply curious how someone like Yu Linna, with no resources, could afford such a hefty sum. Chenghe’s ruthlessness was well-known.
“Zhiyun paid for it. Eighty million.”
“Hiss…”
Tang Yumeng gasped. Though she had heard about Chenghe’s exorbitant fees, eighty million was an astronomical sum, comparable to an A-list celebrity’s salary, enough to finance an entire film production.
Chenghe was truly ruthless.
Yu Linna didn’t elaborate, falling silent. With nothing else to do, she turned on the television in the reception area. Tang Yumeng, seeing her quiet demeanor, didn’t press the issue, simply sitting beside her.
Yu Linna seemed troubled, her usual cheerful disposition replaced by a quiet sadness after her encounter with Yu Tianchen. Tang Yumeng didn’t know her well, only that she had been an actress, assuming she had quit because she couldn’t make it. But now, it seemed her story was far more complex.
Especially after seeing Yu Tianchen, a high-ranking figure at Chenghe, she realized there was more to it than met the eye. Chenghe’s mistreatment of newcomers was well-known, their methods often… questionable.
Yu Linna flipped through the channels, landing on a movie channel airing The Storm Chronicle, the film that had launched Nangong Ying’s career. Seeing Nangong Ying’s face on the screen, her expression changed.
“Nangong…”
She unconsciously uttered the name, startling Tang Yumeng.
Nangong Ying had been a constant presence in Yu Linna’s life for the past three years of high school. But relationships were complex, easily broken. Nangong Ying, pursuing her own dreams, her own ambitions, had betrayed her best friend.
Since then, Yu Linna had been grappling with the question: what was more important, career or friendship? Which was the right choice?
She hadn’t found an answer.
“Linna, you know Nangong Ying, don’t you? She’s more than just your… schoolmate. You two… have a deeper connection.”
“…”
“I can see it in your eyes. The way you look at her… it’s different from how you look at other celebrities. It’s like… you’re looking at someone you know.”
Yu Linna remained silent.
Nangong Ying was her past, a past that haunted her.
She knew she was too weak.
Too naive, too trusting, easily manipulated and deceived. Yu Tianchen’s words had been a harsh reminder of her own shortcomings, her naiveté and kindness her downfall.
She couldn’t cling to the past; she had to let go.
“Nangong… she was my best friend. The person I trusted most. But… that was a long time ago.”
She forced a smile, looking at Nangong Ying on the screen, a strange sense of detachment washing over her. The Nangong Ying on screen wasn’t the Nangong Ying she knew, or perhaps, Nangong Ying had simply changed.
“I’ll let go of everything… completely…”
Yu Linna, after so much hesitation, so much self-deception, finally made up her mind. She wouldn’t dwell on the past any longer, wouldn’t cling to her naive optimism, her forced smiles, her constant self-reassurance.
She had believed that as long as she remained positive, good things would happen.
She had been wrong.
“Linna, are you okay? You seem… troubled. You can talk to me if you want.”
“No, I’m fine.”
She turned off the television, as if nothing had happened.
Tang Yumeng, unconvinced, knew she was hiding her pain, unwilling to share her burden. This girl, though seemingly strong, was incredibly fragile, her mind often wandering to dark places. She was worried Yu Linna might do something reckless.
Called back by the director, Tang Yumeng left Yu Linna alone in the reception area. Yu Linna sat there, not watching television, not playing on her phone, simply staring blankly ahead.
When she was poor, she had focused on survival. Now, with money and time, her mind was free to wander, revisiting her past, the unanswered questions resurfacing. Her biological parents… she had never seen them, didn’t know if they had abandoned her or sold her, but the uncertainty gnawed at her.
Her DNA was on file with the police, and Yu Tianchen had said no one had ever searched for her. If she had simply been abandoned, then…
Perhaps she had been sold.
A bitter smile touched her lips, her face paling.
“So… I really am… unwanted…” she murmured, leaning back on the sofa.
She had always been prone to overthinking, but this time, she felt… she knew… she was right.
