After Transmigrating into the Role of the Villain Forced to Pamper the Heroine of an Angsty Novel - Chapter 27

Today was primarily for recording the opening segment—the debut and basic introductions of the mentors and contestants, along with some soft-sell ad placements for the production team. It didn’t involve the actual competition yet, so everyone was quite relaxed.

However, because the mentors were all famous and high-status artists in the industry, the production crew didn’t dare to be lax. They strove for perfection in every detail, which led to frequent last-minute adjustments.

Fortunately, there was no rush. While waiting for the start, the seated mentors began to chat among themselves.

Following the age order, Gu Ruolan sat at the far end. Next to her was Su Yunzi, followed by the 36-year-old Movie King, Qiuhetao. He was the male lead of Gu Ruolan’s first movie, where he played her older brother.

Back then, he had just won the Golden Plum Best Actor award. He was in high spirits and ready to do great things, but he ended up taking a script to help “guide a newcomer.”

That film told the story of a brother and sister who were “implicitly abandoned” by their divorced parents after they both started new families. It followed the two older children as they relied on each other, found joy in hardship, and lived life proactively.

The siblings were the protagonists, but the movie served more as a foil for the sister—meaning the newly crowned Movie King played a supporting role for a total newcomer. This was a significant topic of discussion at the time; many people expressed doubts, believing capital was hyping up the newcomer Gu Ruolan too much. They felt that such a high-profile debut actually compressed her room for growth.

Initially, Gu Ruolan’s performance wasn’t particularly stunning, and the wait-and-see attitude turned back into skepticism. Qiuhetao cooperated as best he could but didn’t stand up to say much for her. In the end, it was Jiang Sinian, the big-shot investor of that film, who made the final call to keep using Gu Ruolan.

Once she passed the adjustment period, Gu Ruolan’s acting talent gradually emerged. After immersing herself in the role, her sense for the camera skyrocketed. Sometimes even Qiuhetao would remark that he occasionally struggled to keep up with her performance.

The filming got smoother and smoother, and their collaboration was considered a pleasant one. Gu Ruolan swept almost all the newcomer awards that year with that movie. While Qiuhetao didn’t gain as much as she did, he received several Best Actor nominations, further consolidating his status in the industry.

Unfortunately, they never had a chance to work together again. Furthermore, Gu Ruolan wasn’t very keen on socializing in private. Even after filming an entire movie, Qiuhetao only had her assistant’s number. Thus, their relationship was one of being early acquaintances who weren’t actually close.

Yuan Yi leaned into Meng Qiuran’s ear, explaining who the man was who was currently leaning over Su Yunzi to talk to Gu Ruolan. Meng Qiuran listened intently with her shoulder tilted, occasionally looking up at the people on stage.

As a sponsor who had secured the title rights and frequently visited the set, Meng Qiuran had long ago received the list of mentors and contestant profiles for this recording. However, all her focus was on Gu Ruolan; she had only given the others a passing glance. Now, bored while waiting and seeing someone approach Gu Ruolan, she became curious and wanted to match the faces to the names on her list.

Yuan Yi was much more familiar with them than she was. Seeing her boss acting “clumsy” and potentially face-blind, she volunteered to be the on-site commentator. Meng Qiuran preferred this method and listened with great interest.

After hearing the information about Qiuhetao, Meng Qiuran gave Yuan Yi a thumbs-up and praised her: “You have a good memory. Bringing you along was the right call.”

Yuan Yi was a bit calmer now. Since the entire recording process would take at least two or three hours, she had no chance of getting close to Gu Ruolan for the time being, so she settled for peacefully admiring her profile.

They could have sat directly in front of the stage, but Meng Qiuran had specifically requested to be “low-profile,” so they were arranged at the side of the stage. The Penguin TV staff were truly shrewd; they were very “considerate” and placed Sponsor Meng on the same side where Gu Ruolan was sitting. Consequently, they were actually closer to Gu Ruolan than if they were directly in front of the stage.

Qiuhetao and Su Yunzi had also collaborated before and had even done endorsements together. However, this on-screen couple’s longevity was short, and they never had a second collaboration. When he first sat down, Qiuhetao greeted both of them and started chatting with the outgoing Su Yunzi first.

Gu Ruolan didn’t feel left out; she actually enjoyed the feeling of sitting at the very edge. Having at least one side open allowed her to feel at ease. She didn’t have the heart to listen to what the people next to her were talking about, but once Qiuhetao’s conversation shifted toward her, she was forced to muster her energy to entertain him.

“Ruolan, since you won the Silver Glow, I’ve been riding on your coattails,” he said. He was much more mature than in the past, currently cultivating a refined, scholarly persona.

Before Gu Ruolan could say anything, he smiled again: “Lately, a lot of people have been asking me if I noticed you were a hidden gem when we worked together back then.”

Gu Ruolan could clearly feel him using their past collaboration to get close, but she couldn’t be impolite. “I didn’t know much about acting back then; I should thank you for your guidance.”

“Your acting talent left a deep impression on me and gave me a lot of inspiration,” Qiuhetao reminisced, adding with a sigh, “It’s a pity no one has asked us for a second collaboration in all these years. I don’t know what those people are thinking.”

“Those people” referred to the investors. Since Jiang Sinian’s retirement, the tastes of the new bosses had grown increasingly tacky—they filmed whatever caught eyes or made quick money. Any actor who set high standards for themselves felt restricted.

Su Yunzi pouted inwardly. I worked with you too; why weren’t you “regretful” about us just now? Qiuhetao’s exchange with her had only involved superficial business resources. Turning around and showing favor to Gu Ruolan by suggesting a second collaboration was far too snobbish. However, she couldn’t show it on her face and had to maintain a smile while “kindly” not interrupting the two of them as they caught up.

Gu Ruolan spoke little, but she understood what Qiuhetao meant. “The general environment isn’t good right now, and investors are being more cautious.”

Su Yunzi suddenly spoke up, sounding quite sympathetic: “Ruolan, it seems your last film died prematurely. What a shame.”

Gu Ruolan pursed her lips, her expression normal. “Yes, it is a shame.”

Qiuhetao smiled and chimed in: “But you didn’t lose out; it was the boss who lost money.”

As Qiuhetao leaned over to talk to Gu Ruolan, his line of sight caught the side of the stage. He didn’t expect to see that “money-losing boss” standing right there as soon as he finished speaking.

Although Meng Qiuran was a new face in the circle, after she grandly bought out The Starlight is Like You and followed it up with ad placements at Penguin TV, everyone had basically guessed that Gu Ruolan had a new backer.

And this backer was currently sitting below the stage, looking over with a relaxed gaze. Qiuhetao instinctively leaned back, retracting his elbow to the inside of his chair’s armrest, leaving only his neck extended.

Furthermore, it wasn’t just Miss Meng who had thrown money in; the eldest Master Meng had as well. It was clear the Meng Group had truly begun to dabble in the entertainment industry. Qiuhetao naturally didn’t want to miss the chance to connect with a new big shot, and Gu Ruolan was the best bridge. Hearing she was participating in Light of Stars, he had decided to seize the opportunity.

To his surprise, even after all these years, Gu Ruolan was the same as before—her private personality was incredibly detached, as if she charged by the word to speak.

Just then, the floor director came over to explain where adjustments were needed, and Qiuhetao sat back straight.

Meng Qiuran narrowed her eyes and asked Yuan Yi: “This Qiuhetao—what’s his reputation normally like?”

“No big scandals. They say he’s quite the gentleman.”

“How’s the quality of his movies?”

“Good, too. He’s won a few Best Actor awards and is currently on the rise.”

Meng Qiuran thought for a moment and asked, “Do you think if he played a supporting role for Gu Ruolan, he could help her win an award?”

Yuan Yi was stunned. That was hard to judge. “It’s hard to say. Winning an award… I’m not qualified to predict that.”

Meng Qiuran wasn’t in a hurry; she was preparing to scout more candidates.

Yuan Yi suddenly added: “The movies she won awards for weren’t actually about romance; they focused on the exploration of human nature. Plus, she doesn’t like playing lovey-dovey roles. I feel she might not be a good match with Qiuhetao’s current persona.” Qiuhetao’s main works in recent years were urban romances, playing everything from wealthy CEOs to industry elites perfectly, but she didn’t think Gu Ruolan would take those roles.

Meng Qiuran “tsk-ed”: “In the future, say what you want to say. Don’t always feel like you aren’t qualified.”

Yuan Yi heard both affirmation and encouragement in those words and smiled. In front of friends, she talked quite a lot and was very confident. But in front of a big shot who might actually invest in Gu Ruolan, she didn’t dare speak recklessly for fear of misleading her boss into letting Gu Ruolan film an unsuitable movie. As a die-hard fan, she cherished Gu Ruolan’s “feathers” (reputation) just as much as Gu did.

The floor director left, and Qiuhetao didn’t lean over to chat anymore. Gu Ruolan looked down and straightened her clothes. Her outfit today seemed ordinary but was actually very attractive because it didn’t take away from her own charm at all. Her face and features were perfect, so there was no need for elaborate hair ornaments. Her skin was great, her figure excellent, and her temperament superior; she didn’t have to worry about dark clothes being monotonous or exposing flaws, because she had none.

If one had to be nitpicky, it was Gu Ruolan’s excessive low profile. She was truly… too somber. She wouldn’t even initiate a conversation. Outside of the camera lens, she seemed immersed in her own world, deaf to the lights and noise around her. It was as if she had a deliberate detachment to keep a proper distance from the chaotic environment.

And the indifference on her face was clear to see, even from a profile view.

Meng Qiuran watched the silent person on stage from a distance. She felt that Gu Ruolan was somewhat uncomfortable. She… seemed a bit like she had social anxiety.

Yuan Yi lightly tugged at her sleeve and whispered: “Sister Qiu, you’re staring too obviously.”

Meng Qiuran snapped back and squinted: “Staring at what?”

“Don’t hide it. That look in your eyes just now—forget the people next to us, I bet even she felt it.” Yuan Yi nodded toward the stage; the reference was obvious.

Meng Qiuran coughed twice: “I’m just a bit curious.”

“Curious why she’s so beautiful?” Yuan Yi wasn’t surprised by that.

Meng Qiuran took a deep breath: “Put your ‘fan filter’ down for a second.” She thought about it and decided to lean into Yuan Yi’s ear, whispering, “Does she have social anxiety?”

Yuan Yi’s eyes widened, and she looked at her with a complex expression. Meng Qiuran thought she had guessed right and was about to look triumphant when she heard Yuan Yi say with a slight tremble: “I used to guess that too.”

She then pulled Meng Qiuran a bit closer, as if speaking of a top-secret matter: “But there’s no evidence! You can’t just say things like that. Especially since she’s so famous and a Movie Queen; wouldn’t saying she has social anxiety be undermining her?”

Meng Qiuran frowned, thinking it was such a hassle—can’t do this, can’t do that. She instinctively went to look at Gu Ruolan, but she felt like someone was looking at her from the same direction. However, when she actually turned her head, Gu Ruolan only left her with the back of her head. She had already turned to speak with Su Yunzi.