The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 207

Chapter 207: There’s a Fox Here (Entertainment Circle) Part 20

After several days, Xu Yiman returned to Qingying Entertainment, leaving behind her cat-sitting days at the studio, her workload piling up.

With Tao Ning’s script completed, the company began preparing for casting, location scouting, and other pre-production matters.

This was their first major project of the year, they couldn’t afford to mess it up.

Back in the office, Zhang Ke, closing the door behind them after a meeting, said, puzzled, “I’m curious, why did you nominate Yu Shuangjiang?”

During the meeting, Tao Ning, who had been silent after submitting the script, finally spoke during the casting discussion.

Before they could even process her sudden participation, she said, “I’ve already chosen the lead actress while writing the script, and I believe no one is more suitable.”

Someone asked curiously, “Who?”

Tao Ning, without hesitation: “Yu Shuangjiang.”

Everyone recognized the name, having even worked with her once, when Yu Shuangjiang had accepted a supporting role in one of Qingying’s dramas as a last-minute replacement.

She hadn’t refused, despite the character’s flaws, a role that could potentially damage her image.

And the role had indeed changed the public’s perception of her, no longer just a “young girl” specialist.

Yu Shuangjiang, with her delicate features and large eyes, had debuted playing a teenage girl, and subsequent roles had typecast her.

This image had become inseparable from her name.

After that supporting role, her popularity had increased, the audience both loving and hating her character, and she had even won the Best Supporting Actress award.

The following year, she had won Best Actress for a television drama.

But these achievements were unrelated to film, there was an invisible barrier between television and film.

Every television actor/actress dreamed of transitioning to film.

Someone disagreed: “But this is our company’s key project this year, shouldn’t the lead actress be able to guarantee box office success? Perhaps her appearance is suitable for Lin Xin, but…”

Tao Ning, unfazed: “As for box office success, I don’t think we should be so pessimistic.”

Looking at everyone, she reminded them, “Don’t forget, Yu Shuangjiang’s debut film, when she was still a university student, a complete unknown, broke box office records. Why have you lost faith in her after all these years?”

This wasn’t unreasonable, some directors preferred working with newcomers, and it wasn’t the first time Tao Ning had voiced her opinion on casting.

Since the screenwriter had spoken, her opinion would be prioritized.

Unless something unexpected happened, Yu Shuangjiang would be cast.

After the meeting, someone would contact her agency.

Everyone left, and Tao Ning, with Zhang Ke, returned to her office.

As part of the main creative team, her schedule would become even busier.

Her nomination of Yu Shuangjiang had shocked everyone, few having forgotten their past feud.

What surprised Zhang Ke even more was Tao Ning’s investment in the film through her studio.

She had invested in films before, but never so boldly, clearly confident in Yu Shuangjiang.

Looking at Tao Ning’s back, Zhang Ke recalled her early days at the company, having joined before Tao Ning, giving her a chance to witness her rise.

Initially, no one knew who Tao Ning was, only that she had suddenly appeared, self-funded a film, winning Best Screenwriter, and the recently graduated director receiving a Best Director nomination.

The director was now a renowned figure, but the actors’ performances hadn’t been as impressive, their mediocre acting skills unable to overshadow the brilliant script.

Seeing her talent, many companies tried to sign her, but she remained independent, her confidence and discerning taste suggesting that money and fame wouldn’t sway her.

Finally, she signed with Qingying Entertainment, given complete creative control.

Zhang Ke, known for her tact and diplomacy, was assigned to be Tao Ning’s assistant, repeatedly instructed to take good care of her, everyone describing her as a difficult and demanding person.

Zhang Ke had spent days researching Tao Ning, only to realize they were wrong, the real Tao Ning only picky about her work, not as terrifying as they had claimed.

Zhang Ke even suspected Tao Ning could buy the entire company, her reluctance probably due to finding management too troublesome, preferring to focus on her writing.

Many assumed Tao Ning was a rebellious heiress from a wealthy family.

While her background wasn’t what they imagined, a fox spirit from the mountains could also be considered a rebel.

Her kind were still struggling in the snowy mountains, while she was the pride of all foxes.

But the real reason was simple, a centuries-old fox spirit, well-read and adapted to human society, would naturally be well-prepared.

Zhang Ke, unaware that her boss wasn’t even human, walked ahead, opening the door to Tao Ning’s office.

She glanced inside, puzzled: “Where’s Yiman?”

“She said there was a new dessert shop downstairs, she’s probably buying afternoon tea,” Tao Ning said, sitting down and checking her email.

Zhang Ke, understanding, closed the door and walked towards Tao Ning’s desk, lowering her voice conspiratorially: “Tao Zong, I have a question…”

Tao Ning, typing rapidly, seemingly focused on her work, actually replying to Yu Shuangjiang, said without looking up, “You’ll find a way to ask anyway, just say it.”

She sent a message: [Just finished the meeting, you’ve read the script, any questions?]

NoFish: [The meeting ended earlier than expected, my company’s meetings usually last until closing time.]

NoFish: [Are you giving me special treatment, Screenwriter Tao?]

Tao Ning: [You said it yourself, I’m a screenwriter, these are necessary discussions.]

She sent the formal reply, receiving a string of “hahaha” in response.

NoFish: [I’ll send you the character bios later, love you (heart)]

Zhang Ke wasn’t the type to question Tao Ning’s work decisions, just curious: “I really want to know why you insisted on Yu Shuangjiang.”

Tao Ning’s attitude in the meeting had been firm, anyone who disagreed silenced.

She had practically declared war to protect her script, even Tao Ning wasn’t immune to meddling investors.

Recalling the past, Zhang Ke teased, “So you’re saying this, not worried about her acting skills anymore? Not a ‘flower vase’?”

Few people dared to speak to Tao Ning like this, only Zhang Ke, her long-time assistant.

Tao Ning, after all, wasn’t truly heartless, her sharp tongue not preventing her from appreciating a joke.

The typing stopped, and Tao Ning looked up at Zhang Ke: “Times have changed, no one stays the same forever, and besides, Lin Xin isn’t a teenager.”

Zhang Ke was slightly startled, then after a moment, she sighed: “I’ve rarely seen you praise anyone so highly, saying no one is more suitable… I’ve never heard you so certain about anyone.”

Tao Ning opened her mouth to speak, but Zhang Ke, raising a hand, stopped her: “I know what you’re going to say, times have changed, I understand.”

Being able to say that in front of all those executives, Zhang Ke was now even more curious about the script.

She had been too busy printing it earlier, forgetting to read it properly, she would have to find a chance later.

She found the printed script, left by Xu Yiman, but after a few pages, she felt like she had forgotten something.

Putting down the script, she asked, “What was it you wanted to tell me this morning? The thing you wanted me to pay attention to, we were interrupted by the meeting.”

Tao Ning, casually: “I have a girlfriend.”

Zhang Ke, not registering at first: “Who?”

Tao Ning: “Yu Shuangjiang.”

Zhang Ke laughed: “Isn’t she the lead actress in your new movie?”

A moment of silence, then Xu Yiman, returning with their afternoon tea, burst in, her voice excited:

“What?!”

She quickly closed the door, blocking the curious gazes outside, her hands full of paper bags, looking at the stunned Zhang Ke, puzzled.

“You… you… you…” Zhang Ke, speechless, covered her face with her hands, a mask of despair.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?! I ran into Tu Xue from Yiwen Entertainment yesterday, and she was acting so strangely, as if I had stolen her wallet.”

Pointing at Tao Ning, she continued, her voice filled with mock accusation, “So it was you! You stole her artist! I’ve been wrongly accused!”

Recalling Tao Ning’s recent trips to the hospital, Zhang Ke felt betrayed.

This had clearly been planned!

Tao Ning took the coffee from Xu Yiman, inserted a straw, and said calmly, “Relax.”

Zhang Ke: “…”

Relaxing was impossible.

Both Tao Ning and Yu Shuangjiang were busy.

Yu Shuangjiang, not making any public appearances, diligently studied the script, highlighting important passages.

Her fans also kept busy, rewatching her dramas and live streams.

In a way, they were all doing the same thing.

The cast of The Legend of Wen Ying had been officially announced yesterday, Ji Ruoyi playing the lead role, the news trending online.

Yu Shuangjiang, however, still hadn’t announced any new projects, staying home, and the marketing accounts couldn’t resist taking a jab at her.

But her mature fans, waiting for her to return, ignored the rumors.

However, avoiding them wasn’t always possible, and early in the morning, a marketing account posted a screenshot.

ThankYouForNotShippingV: Wow, Yu Shuangjiang’s fans are so arrogant? (Picture)

It was a screenshot of a Weibo post from a supposed fan account, using Yu Shuangjiang’s photo as their profile picture, mocking Ji Ruoyi, claiming only Yu Shuangjiang could play Wen Ying, suggesting Ji Ruoyi should step down.

But this account had already been exposed as a fake fan, often liking negative posts about Yu Shuangjiang.

Ji Ruoyi’s fans immediately retaliated, accusing the fake fan of being jealous and incompetent.

Soon, Yu Shuangjiang’s social media was filled with hate and edited photos, mocking her appearance and urging her to retire.

This was too much, they knew the Ji Ruoyi fans were just trying to start a fight, but not responding was frustrating, and responding was seen as “fan wars.”

So, ignoring or fighting back, both equally frustrating, they might as well fight back!

Fan wars were usually simple: besides arguing, it was a competition of likes and shares, whoever dominated the trending topics won.

That day, Yu Shuangjiang’s fans were busy, almost working themselves to exhaustion.

A netizen, seeing their efforts, commented, [You guys are amazing, your idol just got a lead role in a movie, and you’re here fighting with Ji Ruoyi’s fans instead of promoting it.]

The busy fans: “…?”

What movie?

Then, newcomers to the battlefield brought shocking news, Tao Ning’s studio had posted on Weibo.

A simple caption: Stay tuned.

But the photo was the main attraction.

A printed script, titled Burning Heart, with a note in the corner: Starring Yu Shuangjiang.

Tao Ning’s studio did have a Weibo account, but overshadowed by her own fame, it was largely ignored.

Yu Shuangjiang’s fans, having been offline: “…”

A surprise announcement, starring our idol?

They checked repeatedly, it was indeed Tao Ning’s studio, and Yu Shuangjiang’s name was on the script!

Ji Ruoyi’s fans, who had been stirring up trouble, were stunned, having tried to sabotage Yu Shuangjiang, they hadn’t expected Tao Ning’s studio to suddenly announce this.

The news spread quickly, and Ji Ruoyi’s fans, busy spreading hate, suddenly noticed a different kind of post being shared by Yu Shuangjiang’s fans.

Clicking on it, they were horrified, the rumors of Yu Shuangjiang wanting the role in The Legend of Wen Ying now completely debunked.

No one would believe that Yu Shuangjiang, having secured a lead role in Tao Ning’s new film, would be interested in a palace drama.

The photo didn’t reveal the director or other cast members, only three things were certain:

Tao Ning was the screenwriter, Qingying Entertainment the production company, and Yu Shuangjiang the lead actress.

Announcing the lead actress before even the director, how much faith did they have in her?

Yu Shuangjiang’s fans: Ascending to a higher plane of existence.

So that dinner with her nemesis was actually… this?

This theory was quickly refuted, having secured a lead role in Tao Ning’s film, they were no longer rivals, time to celebrate and promote.

So the fans deleted their previous comments, apologizing and switching to promotional mode.

Fan wars aside, their idol was the priority.

There was no need to continue fighting, a single screenshot of Tao Ning’s studio’s Weibo post was enough to silence Ji Ruoyi’s fans.

Two hours after the post, Yu Shuangjiang, who had been offline, finally appeared.

Having been diligently studying the script, she hadn’t even known about the announcement until Qi Xiaojia called her.

She reposted the Weibo post, adding the comment “Deeply immersed in the script,” along with a censored photo of the script, then went offline.

A simple and effective response.

Then, Yu Shuangjiang’s studio issued a statement, announcing they had gathered evidence of the recent malicious rumors and were taking legal action.

Her studio was efficient, and such statements were usually issued with her approval, so this was probably her doing.

This time, Ji Ruoyi’s fans couldn’t retaliate.

“What a missed opportunity, why announce it now? We didn’t hear anything beforehand.”

Ji Ruoyi’s manager said as they walked towards her dressing room.

It was Ji Ruoyi’s makeup test today, and they had planned to release the photos after generating some hype, but Tao Ning’s studio’s announcement had ruined everything.

Not only that, but it was also a slap in the face.

The manager, annoyed, pushed Ji Ruoyi’s dressing room door, but it was locked, and she knocked: “Ruoyi, are you in there?”

Ji Ruoyi was indeed inside, on the phone, her eyes narrowed at the voice on the other end.

“Three years ago, Su Zhen, a former A-list actress, was caught smoking and throwing away fan mail, her hidden marriage and child revealed, and she was blacklisted.”

“To this day, her fans still miss her, hoping for her return.”

“The lead role in her drama was given to you, a nobody, and if Su Zhen’s fans and everyone else found out that you were the one who leaked the information, that you were responsible for her downfall,”

“That you took over all her resources, using her as a stepping stone, and now you’re targeting Yu Shuangjiang, asking me to dig up dirt on her… What do you think people would say?”

Ji Ruoyi finally spoke: “Are you threatening me?”

A mocking laugh from the other end: “You misunderstand, I’m just teaching you a lesson, shortcuts aren’t always the best path, superstar.”

Ji Ruoyi closed her eyes, she knew the consequences of these secrets being revealed.

Her voice turned cold: “How much do you want?”

A few minutes later, the caller, having received what they wanted, hung up.

The darkened phone screen reflected Ji Ruoyi’s sharp eyes, and she muttered, “You won’t be so smug for long.”