The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 214

Chapter 214: There’s a Fox Here (Entertainment Circle) Part 27

The annual Golden Spike Film Awards were held in late autumn, the venue bustling with activity.

Fans gathered outside, their enthusiasm undeterred by the chilly autumn wind, those without tickets waiting patiently.

Inside, on the red carpet, spotlights flashed, celebrities posing for the cameras, some famous, some unknown, all hoping for a moment in the spotlight.

At 7:00 PM, the awards ceremony began, broadcast live online.

Burning Heart received multiple nominations, the cast and crew sitting together.

Yu Shuangjiang’s fans, the “Little Dried Fish,” were ecstatic, having waited for this day, eager for a glimpse of their idol, not just pre-recorded commercials and promotional materials.

After the film’s release last year, Yu Shuangjiang had briefly interacted with her fans, satisfying their cravings, a brief spring before she disappeared again, filming Tao Ning’s new project.

Unlike last year, this year’s production was shrouded in secrecy, a closed-set filming with no leaked photos or videos, even the staff member who leaked a costume design fired, the incident causing quite a stir.

Yu Shuangjiang, already rarely seen, had become even more reclusive, not even a glimpse of her.

Her fans, starved for content, had endured the long wait from spring to autumn, their patience wearing thin.

They even jokingly accused Tao Ning’s studio of “consuming Xiao Yu,” not even leaving any bones behind.

Why else would she disappear after filming just one movie?

And to make matters worse, Tao Ning’s Weibo, once dedicated to Lin Xin, was now filled with posts about Ren Qing, the protagonist of her new film, Green Apple.

They didn’t know what to make of Tao Ning.

She was both secretive and not, her posts full of Ren Qing, yet no spoilers, a true master of her craft.

Satisfying her fans while keeping the plot under wraps, no need for damage control.

Compared to other screenwriters, who were often careless and prone to drama, Tao Ning seemed incredibly reliable.

So, Yu Shuangjiang’s fans often visited Tao Ning’s Weibo for censored photos and updates.

It was a reliable source, no worries about leaks.

But every time they visited, they were still amazed.

What did this mean?

It meant Tao Ning had constant access to their idol, new content every day.

Even some “rival ship” fans had found evidence of their closeness in other actors’ live streams.

For example, the always-closed, randomly appearing gray laptop beside Yu Shuangjiang, which belonged to Tao Ning.

The actress had initially been puzzled by the question about the laptop.

But it was indeed a memorable object, and she had replied without thinking, “It’s our screenwriter’s, Tao Laoshi, she’s very hardworking, always on set with us, even enduring the sun…”

The “rival ship” fans, reading between the lines: Oh, so even when not present, the hardworking and professional Tao Laoshi is still marking her territory.

Yu Shuangjiang’s fans, realizing what they meant: “…” Seriously?

Not just the fans, but also Yu Shuangjiang’s anti-fans were annoyed.

Hate, after all, was more persistent than love, and some of them had been hating her longer than her fans had been supporting her.

Unable to get Tao Ning’s attention for their own idols, they were frustrated: [Wait, wasn’t Tao Ning secretly in love with Yu Shuangjiang before?]

Publicly criticizing her, then giving her lead roles in her scripts, even working with her twice, a rare occurrence.

Wasn’t this a clear sign of a hidden crush? All that drama just to get her attention.

Yu Shuangjiang’s fans, however, retorted: [Why are you anti-fans introducing yourselves?]

Having hated her for so long, aren’t you secretly in love with her?

Just like the screenwriter who used her laptop as a watermark.

Yu Shuangjiang, oblivious to the online discussions, didn’t know Tao Ning was now labeled as her secret admirer.

She walked towards her designated seat, the other actors already present.

Unaware that her appearance had caused a commotion in the live stream chat room.

[Xiao Yu! Xiao Yu! Fresh Xiao Yu!]

[Where? I don’t see her.]

[Long time no see, Xiao Yu, you’ve become a pixel, biubiubiu, enlargement spell!]

[Another crazy fan, use a fish fork to drag them away.]

[She looks so pretty today, like a mermaid!]

[Pink dress! It’s pink!]

[Isn’t that a last season’s haute couture dress? Super rare, and she’s wearing it?]

[Fans exaggerating again, no one cares about the dress, just the pixelated image.]

[Typical, mesmerized by Xiao Yu, not even noticing the dress, just that it’s pretty, a true love story.]

[Don’t expose them, or I won’t have anything to laugh at.]

The venue was filled with a sea of pink, Yu Shuangjiang’s fan color.

Zhou Yulan, sitting a seat away from Yu Shuangjiang’s, saw her and waved: “Shuangjiang, over here!”

Yu Shuangjiang walked towards her, her long dress flowing: “Zhou Jie, good evening, you’re early.”

“I was bored, so I came early, I was waiting for you,” Zhou Yulan said, looking past Yu Shuangjiang. “You’re alone?”

Yu Shuangjiang, assuming she was asking about her assistant: “Tu Jie and the others are busy, they’re backstage.”

Zhou Yulan waved her hand: “No, not them, I mean… Oh, there she is.”

She waved: “Hey, Tao Laoshi, over here!”

“?” Yu Shuangjiang turned around and saw Tao Ning entering.

They had agreed to arrive separately, a meaningless gesture, but it created an illusion of coincidence.

Tao Ning, in a elegant, flowing turquoise dress, her movements graceful, like flowing water, a vision of ethereal beauty.

The camera briefly captured her entrance, her image flashing on the screen before cutting to a wider shot.

The viewers, captivated by this unfamiliar beauty, flooded the chat with questions.

[Who is that? So beautiful! I need all her information now!]

[A new actress? I’ve never seen her before, she’ll definitely be famous.]

[She’s a screenwriter? With that face? Seriously?]

[Times have changed, people don’t even know about the Ice Queen anymore (old man sighs, lighting a cigarette).]

[What Ice Queen? I only know Yu Shuangjiang’s secret lover (doge)]

[So that’s her? Sitting next to Yu Shuangjiang, impressive.]

[Hahaha, you clearly don’t know the inside story.]

[She’s been behind the scenes for the past two years, rarely seen in public.]

[The Ice Queen without glasses, almost didn’t recognize her.]

[Tao Ning is so strange, a screenwriter with a top star’s face and a model’s figure, perhaps she doesn’t like the spotlight?]

[Not liking the spotlight is Tao Ning’s biggest lie.]

Zhou Yulan, observing them, muttered softly, “Pale pink and turquoise, a complementary color scheme, almost like couple colors.”

Yu Shuangjiang, not hearing clearly over the noise, turned to her: “What did you say, Zhou Jie?”

Zhou Yulan, raising her voice: “I said you two look beautiful tonight, your outfits match.”

Yu Shuangjiang, not understanding, but still complimenting her enthusiastically: “You look beautiful too, Zhou Jie, I saw you as soon as I entered, you’re glowing.”

Zhou Yulan just smiled, not replying.

“You’re all here so early, I almost missed it,” Tao Ning said, arriving at their seats and sitting down between them, pulling out two chocolate bars. “Want some?”

Yu Shuangjiang, delighted: “How did you know I didn’t have time to eat? I want the milk chocolate one.”

Zhou Yulan, surprised: “Where did you get those? Your dress doesn’t have pockets.”

She took the matcha-flavored one, having been on a strict diet for two days to fit into her dress, she was starving.

Tao Ning smiled mysteriously: “Magic, I can conjure chocolate with a snap of my fingers.”

Zhou Yulan chuckled, amused by her playfulness, then, looking at her hands: “You’re probably hiding them in your hands, using your skirt as a cover.”

Tao Ning’s eyes crinkled with amusement, not denying it: “You guessed it, here’s another one for you.”

Zhou Yulan was truly shocked now, she had clearly seen Tao Ning’s empty hands, where did the extra chocolate come from?

She leaned closer, trying to see: “Does your dress have hidden pockets?”

Yu Shuangjiang, knowing the truth, silently ate her chocolate, another piece offered by the generous Tao Ning.

The camera captured them sharing chocolate, Tao Ning’s seemingly endless supply, even Director Mo, arriving later, receiving a piece.

Everyone assumed her dress had hidden pockets, filled with chocolate.

[What brand is that chocolate? I want some too.]

[Are they not nervous at all? Eating chocolate before the awards?]

[Xiao Yu must be starving, finally some food, so touching (tears)]

The chat was lively, then someone commented,

[She’s giving out wedding candies.]

[Wait, you’re right, it does look like that.]

[Already searching for the brand, placing an order.]

[No, you guys are too fast, it’s sold out! (crying) Save some for me! (crying)]

At 7:30 PM, the ceremony officially began, hosted by two veteran actors, respected seniors in the industry.

After a brief introduction, the award presentations began.

The most prestigious awards were presented last, and after several categories, Tao Ning went on stage to accept the Best Screenwriter award, giving her acceptance speech before returning to her seat.

This wasn’t her first time winning, it wasn’t a surprise.

What everyone was curious about was whether Yu Shuangjiang, nominated for Best Actress, would win.

Most people weren’t optimistic.

Coincidentally, her competitors this year were all veteran actresses, much older and more experienced.

Only two younger actresses were nominated, and it seemed they were just there to make up the numbers.

Even Yu Shuangjiang and the crew thought so, if the other nominee won, it would be her third consecutive Best Actress award.

Most people were betting on her, a seventy-year-old actress still active in the industry.

But just being nominated was already a great honor for Yu Shuangjiang, she had no regrets.

As for winning, even Tao Ning wasn’t sure, the judges had their own criteria, the awards presented based on their judgment.

But even if she didn’t win, as they had agreed, they had time, there would be other opportunities.

Finally, it was time for the Best Actress award, and even though she knew her chances were slim, Yu Shuangjiang, along with everyone else, couldn’t help but feel nervous.

Unseen by the cameras, she instinctively grabbed Tao Ning’s hand, her warm fingers turning slightly cold, and Tao Ning squeezed her hand reassuringly.

The hosts, as usual, dragged it out, building suspense, teasing the audience.

Not just those in the venue, but also the viewers online, who flooded the chat with impatient comments.

[Hurry up, why are they talking so much?]

After what seemed like an eternity, the hosts finally got to the point.

“The winner of this year’s Golden Spike Award for Best Actress is—”

The name was on the tip of her tongue, but she paused, her eyes smiling, taking in the audience’s reactions.

Their hearts sank, their gazes following hers.

The host winked playfully, then looked down at the card in her hand.

Then she announced, “Let’s congratulate Yu Shuangjiang for Burning Heart!”

The large screen behind her showed a clip of Yu Shuangjiang as Lin Xin, a climactic scene, surrounded by police, her figure thin but resolute, her eyes red-rimmed, her heart cold.

All her emotions conveyed through her eyes, a subtle yet powerful performance, unlike the usual dramatic displays, this Lin Xin was calm, her eyes revealing her inner turmoil, then a quiet determination, every detail perfect.

Cheers erupted from the audience, a spotlight shining on Yu Shuangjiang, who was talking to someone, and she looked up, startled.

The spotlight on her, her mind went blank, the cheers fading.

Her first thought was, Did the lighting crew catch me zoning out?

Then Zhou Yulan’s excited voice and Director Mo’s proud gaze brought her back to reality.

Nudged by someone beside her, she finally realized what was happening, turning to look at Tao Ning.

Tao Ning stood up, her arms open, her eyes smiling: “My leading lady, congratulations, come here, hug.”

Overcome with emotion, Yu Shuangjiang rushed towards her, embracing her tightly.

After a few seconds, she turned to Director Mo.

Director Mo, raising an eyebrow: “What about me?”

She stood up and hugged Yu Shuangjiang, patting her back: “Go on, go on, we can hug later.”

Yu Shuangjiang walked towards the stage, her dress flowing, this time not with regret, but with joy.

The host was already waiting, handing her the award: “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Yu Shuangjiang managed to say, her voice trembling slightly.

Taking the heavy trophy, her hands almost too weak to hold it, she was overwhelmed with emotion, standing on the stage she had dreamed of since she was nineteen, facing the cheering crowd.

Host: “Congratulations, Yu Shuangjiang, on winning Best Actress, tell us how you’re feeling.”

All eyes were on her, their gazes intense.

Yu Shuangjiang, her heart still pounding, took a deep breath, her eyes shining with tears, her voice trembling slightly.

The crowd was vast, and she focused on a single figure, a calming presence, before speaking: “I’m honored to receive this award. It’s not just my achievement, but also the director’s, my friends’, and everyone who worked on this film, thank you for your trust and support, I’ll continue to work hard and bring you more great works…”

The regret of losing the award at nineteen, finally resolved, although ten years later, every step of her journey had led to this moment.

Her sincere words were met with even louder applause.

And under everyone’s gaze, she turned and embraced Tao Ning again.

[The pinker the dress, the bigger the win.]

[Finally! I thought it would never happen (tears)]

The “rival ship” fans: [I’ve screenshotted the hug, this is their wedding photo!]