After Transmigrating into the Role of the Villain Forced to Pamper the Heroine of an Angsty Novel - Chapter 35

Sister Lin, naturally, recommended all the shop’s signature dishes with enthusiastic thoroughness. She even openly gave them special treatment, saying that if they wanted something else, she would send someone out to buy it.

Meng Qiuran hummed softly as she looked over the menu while listening to the descriptions, acting as if she were interested in everything. In reality, she was using the opportunity to steal glances at Gu Ruolan’s reaction.

She knew nothing about this Movie Queen’s dietary preferences, only that actors generally avoid food that is too greasy or fattening. Oh right, she seemed to have a food allergy last time—heaven knows what she is actually allergic to.

To make matters worse, Gu Ruolan generously relinquished all ordering rights, showing no intention of interjecting. While Meng Qiuran struggled with various guesses and trade-offs, Gu Ruolan sat there leisurely sipping the plain water that had just been served.

It was truly… unfair.

Meng Qiuran couldn’t be bothered to overthink it. To be safe, she decided to stick with the same choice as last time; she had found the set meal quite delicious anyway.

“The same as last time. The set meal,” she said, handing the menu back to Sister Lin.

Sister Lin paused and glanced at Gu Ruolan, wanting to ask if she had anything to add. Although Gu Ruolan was silently drinking tea, she wasn’t as indifferent as she appeared. She had already decided that no matter what Meng Qiuran ordered, it would be fine; if by some misfortune something she couldn’t eat was ordered, she would simply eat very little or none at all. An actor losing weight is a common excuse and wouldn’t be considered rude.

However, hearing that Meng Qiuran chose the same meal as last time, she felt a surge of secret happiness alongside her surprise. She had eaten it before; the taste was good, it didn’t trigger allergies, and it wasn’t obviously fattening. It was perfect; she was actually a bit hungry.

Once Sister Lin left, only the two of them remained in the private room.

Meng Qiuran opened the conversation like a casual chat: “Not busy today?”

Gu Ruolan set down her glass. “Today is a rest day.”

“Is your assistant not with you?” From entering the shop to staying for dinner, a significant amount of time had passed. If she had brought an assistant, that assistant would probably be ready to cry by now.

“I’m usually alone when I’m not working.”

Gu Ruolan was quite frank, not avoiding any questions, but this Q&A style was a bit awkward. Ignoring the slight tension, Meng Qiuran pretended to be full of curiosity and asked, “Did you watch yesterday’s show?”

A ripple of emotion appeared on Gu Ruolan’s normally calm face. The moment she looked up, Meng Qiuran saw a flash of surprise. “I watched it. It was okay.”

Since she proactively gave her evaluation, Meng Qiuran didn’t feel it was right to push further.

“I actually really like watching you critique the contestants,” Meng Qiuran said, acting as if she knew nothing about the comments and only cared about the content. “Your eye is very sharp, and your critiques aren’t vague or roundabout. That’s a good thing.”

The corner of Gu Ruolan’s lip curved into a tiny arc. “It’s also an easy way to offend people.” Her tone was light and clear—no sign of annoyance or regret, as if she were simply used to it.

Meng Qiuran had been at the recording and seen the whole process, but she gave an even higher level of affirmation now than she had that day.

“I don’t actually want to use this to show off,” Gu Ruolan shook her head. “I just want to share some of my experience so they don’t have to take so many detours. I suffered quite a bit when I was figuring things out on my own, and I don’t want them to go through the same thing.”

Meng Qiuran had always assumed Gu Ruolan was a natural-born actor, as she seemed to have everything at her fingertips whenever she performed or gave examples. It was a type of absolute lead—stunning and yet despair-inducing for others.

“You’re definitely much smarter than them. Even when you were figuring things out, you must have been the type to grasp everything instantly.”

Gu Ruolan glanced at Meng Qiuran. To prove she wasn’t just offering brainless flattery, Meng Qiuran cited several specific examples from the set: “Take when you critiqued Xie Zixuan last time—you told her to control her body language and synchronize it with her emotions. That dazed look on her face showed she didn’t understand what you were pointing out at all. I bet in the next round, she’ll either be stiff and constrained or her dialogue will go completely out of control.”

In short, it definitely wouldn’t be synchronized.

Gu Ruolan pursed her lips, clearly wanting to laugh but holding it back.

“And Ren Nanyi’s dramatic acting—you told him not to be so ‘hard’ and to soften up appropriately. I saw him tilt his head; he probably didn’t get it either.”

Gu Ruolan also remembered that moment. She had actually wanted to follow up and ask if he understood, but she feared it would put too much pressure on the student, so she swallowed the words. She hadn’t expected Meng Qiuran to have seen it, let alone remember it so clearly. She had assumed Miss Meng was just sitting there casually passing the time.

Gu Ruolan was curious to see how she would guess the next performance, but after waiting a while and hearing no answer, she hesitated for a second before taking the initiative to speak.

“Then do you think Ren Nanyi will improve in his dramatic scenes next time?”

Meng Qiuran pouted. “I don’t think so.”

Gu Ruolan lowered her gaze and let out a light laugh. She thought so too, but she couldn’t say it.

“The ‘softness’ he understands is likely just surface-level. If he overcorrects, he might end up acting like a sissy,” Meng Qiuran said, casually gesturing with an orchid finger (a feminine hand gesture).

Gu Ruolan laughed out loud but quickly caught herself. After regaining her composure, she shot a look at Meng Qiuran. It wasn’t a harsh look, but it clearly carried the intent of standing up for her students.

Meng Qiuran marveled once again that she was born to be an actor; even a casual look like that felt like a poke to the heart.

“I’m not intentionally looking down on anyone, but some newcomers truly don’t have much talent,” she said, looking at Gu Ruolan. “This industry is mostly about talent, isn’t it?”

Gu Ruolan didn’t deny it; actors with a high ceiling definitely rely on talent. “It’s not entirely like that. They haven’t reached the stage where they need to rely on talent yet. Building a solid foundation is more important.”

Meng Qiuran noticed that whenever the topic turned to acting, Gu Ruolan became proactive and talkative, just like at Qidu Mansion.

“It’s a pity you’re only recording this one episode. It would be great if you could critique them all the way through.” This was a sincere thought; Meng Qiuran felt the other mentors were too wishy-washy, prioritizing saving the contestants’ face.

“I’ll be recording the final episode as well.”

“I know, but it’s still not enough.” As she said this, Meng Qiuran realized she actually quite enjoyed watching the show.

Gu Ruolan paused, not responding immediately, as if trying to discern if Meng Qiuran’s “not enough” was sincere or just flattery. After a moment, she said slowly, “Penguin TV has expressed interest in adding two more recording sessions for me.”

Meng Qiuran’s eyes lit up. That would be great—two more sessions of her critiques would be very interesting. But then she realized this meant two more risks of a wardrobe malfunction. Her heart felt tired.

Her expression shifted from bright to somber in just a few seconds, and Gu Ruolan caught it. It seemed Meng Qiuran didn’t want her to record more? But she had just said it wasn’t enough… Gu Ruolan didn’t dwell on it; her decision to accept wouldn’t depend on Meng Qiuran’s attitude anyway.

“So, did you agree?”

“I’m still considering it.”

Meng Qiuran originally wanted to tell her not to record, thinking it wasn’t worth the risk of a malfunction or more negative press. But thinking of Gu Ruolan’s objective, professional critiques and the way her eyes sparkled when talking about acting, she felt it would be a shame. “What are your concerns?”

Gu Ruolan felt Meng Qiuran was particularly curious today. Perhaps because the conversation had put her in a good mood and she felt Meng Qiuran was genuinely following the show, she didn’t find it off-putting. “I’m not very well-suited for variety shows, and if I record more, it would be inconsistent with the previous promotion.”

Meng Qiuran thought to herself: So you actually know your variety sense isn’t great. But that second part… It took her a while to realize: “You’re actually worried about that?”

Gu Ruolan looked down, her long lashes fluttering. “People will truly think I’m hogging the lens and showing off.” This was a frequent sentiment in the unfriendly comments from the previous night.

Meng Qiuran fell silent, thinking of how best to comfort her. Gu Ruolan looked up at her and brought the matter up proactively: “If you watched the show last night, you must have seen those comments.”

Meng Qiuran nodded. “I saw them.”

Gu Ruolan sighed softly. “I don’t need to feel sorry for things I haven’t done, but if the ‘evidence’ piles up…” She shook her head with a weary sense of futility.

“Those are two different things. You aren’t intentionally hiding it, recording more and then lying to everyone saying you were just a guest. Many shows add sequels after the ratings are good; that’s not deception, that’s catering to the public.”

Gu Ruolan stared at the glass beside her, her voice drifting. “But the audience won’t listen to those explanations.” She seemed a bit tired from the recent barrage of senseless negative comments, or perhaps she just felt powerless and alone.

“Don’t worry. Those people just have foul mouths; we’ll just clean them up.”

She spoke with such firm determination that Gu Ruolan couldn’t help but look up. Meng Qiuran’s gaze was steady as she nodded, encouraging her again: “There are still many people who like and support you. Those haters were just a bit loud at the start; it’s no big deal.”

Gu Ruolan curled her lips. Meng Qiuran was right.

“I believe the subsequent episodes won’t have the same situation as last night.”

From her certain, almost-promising tone, Gu Ruolan caught a different implication. She studied Meng Qiuran, reorganizing her thoughts until the conclusion became clear.

“Last night… was it you?” she asked hesitantly, her voice trailing, but the meaning was clear to someone who understood.

As expected, Meng Qiuran was momentarily stunned. Even if it was only for a second, Gu Ruolan already had her answer. The heart that had been suspended for a long time finally began to land; she had found the person helping her from behind the scenes. It wasn’t Xie Yuzong, nor some mysterious unknown force—it was the Meng Qiuran she knew.

“Thank you.”

Meng Qiuran hadn’t expected her to jump so quickly from the topic of recording to the cleanup of the comments. But since she had been found out, she wouldn’t hide it. However, in Gu Ruolan’s “thank you,” she still sensed a fair amount of defensiveness and distance. Someone who insisted on calculating every meal so clearly probably wouldn’t accept her help for no reason; Meng Qiuran feared she might come up with some absurd “repayment,” or perhaps stop her from helping in the future, which would make the mission even harder.

Meng Qiuran suddenly leaned back into the soft seat. She draped one arm over the back of the chair, acting as if she hadn’t taken the initiative herself: “You have no idea—Yuan Yi was so anxious she was almost in tears, but she couldn’t offer any practical help, so she begged me to step in.”

Gu Ruolan blinked, able to imagine Yuan Yi’s frantic state.

“It wasn’t a big deal, truly just a small favor. Don’t take it to heart.”

Gu Ruolan knew that for Miss Meng, such a thing indeed wasn’t a major affair. But she did owe a favor. How should she repay it?

Meng Qiuran seemed to guess her thoughts: “Just keep being yourself and don’t let those trolls affect you. That will be the greatest reward for me.”

Gu Ruolan slowly looked up, and this time, the emotion in her eyes was clearly visible. “Thank you.”