CEO's Sweetheart is a Super Idol-Chapter 385 - 377: Life is Like a Drama

Film set

Lan Yening continued to endure the persecution that Brother Le was clearly inflicting on purpose.

"Haha! Haha!" Brother Le laughed maniacally.

Nearby, the director, staring at the screen of the filming monitor, revealed a revolting smile.

Brother Le became even more over-the-top. Originally, this scene was supposed to have him reach out as if touching the other person, keeping his hand one or two centimeters away from Lan Yening’s skin.

Later, the performance technique of using camera angles would make the scene appear convincing.

But Brother Le actually touched him, his sweaty, pudgy hand feeling like the saliva dripping from a rat’s mouth, almost making Lan Yening gag.

Seeing that foul, obese body inching closer, Lan Yening could no longer bear it: "Stop! Stop, I’m going to vomit!"

Lan Yening shouted loudly, and Brother Le’s face grew more sinister. He gave a cold snort and stopped his hand.

"Xiao Ning, what’s going on? This scene is excellent! You and Brother Le are both totally immersed in it; why did you randomly shout ’stop’?" The director walked over, wearing a disappointed expression.

"Director, could it be I got too into character and caused Xiao Ning discomfort? Really sorry about that." Brother Le suddenly put on an apologetic and submissive demeanor.

"Brother Le, you’re just too dedicated to acting, immersing yourself so quickly—it’s easy for young actors to misunderstand." The director then turned to Lan Yening: "Xiao Ning, don’t blame Brother Le!"

Looking at the two in front of him playing the part of smiling tigers while hiding venomous snakes inside, Lan Yening felt utterly helpless.

"Sorry, Director. Brother Le, it’s my inexperience. Truly sorry."

"No problem. Young actors need training."

"Director, I’d like to use the restroom."

The director’s expression shifted as he exchanged glances with Brother Le, then smiled: "Go ahead!"

The stagehand came over to unfasten the ropes that bound Lan Yening.

Lan Yening tried his best to walk naturally, but inside, he felt a mix of shame and anger.

Now he finally understood why some actors might act "high-maintenance."

With directors and producers like these, sometimes only a tough personality could deal with them.

Hardly anyone on a film set was decent—actors being demanding was their way of pushing back.

Lan Yening immediately called his agent, Lu Tianxiang, and then summoned his assistant to "accompany" him.

He didn’t let his assistant stay on set earlier, fearing others might think he was too high-maintenance or troublesome. Now, though, he had no choice but to call the assistant over.

At the very least, if he was treated unfairly, there’d be someone to help out.

"Lan Yening, you really are inexperienced." He sighed regretfully to himself.

After finally enduring until the scene was over, his exhausted body returned to the hotel.

Opening the window, some damp air flowed in, making him feel slightly better.

He leaned his head out of the window to sober up a bit.

Buzz! Buzz!

His phone vibrated—it was Lu Tianxiang. He told him to open the door.

"Xiao Ning, you must’ve felt wronged." The man, with dark hair and handsome features, walked in.

"This isn’t really a big grievance; I’m mostly worried about messing up the performance." Lan Yening walked to the liquor cabinet and poured Lu Tianxiang a glass of red wine.

"You’ll just have to endure this production; after all, it’s going to be aired nationally. Fat Le might not be a big name, but he has some pull at the network." Lu Tianxiang didn’t hold back as he explained the predicament.

"Brother Lu, my biggest worry is whether they’ll cut my scenes. That Fat Le has already tried to invite me out indirectly several times."

"Don’t worry about that. The company has already assigned someone to deal with him and sent over money. He still has to play by the rules, and our company isn’t to be trifled with."

Lan Yening smiled faintly; he knew Lu Tianxiang was reliable in his handling of matters.

Lu Tianxiang, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, observed Lan Yening, who seemed to radiate an alluring charm like a fragrant rose.

Lan Yening didn’t shy away from his gaze; he knew Lu Tianxiang wouldn’t cross any boundaries with him.

"Brother Lu, I’d have suffered far more these days without your care."

"Haha! It’s what I’m supposed to do. But this industry truly is a mess."

"Yes! Without backing, you’ll never rise to the top."

Lan Yening’s finely-shaped masculine eyebrows were filled with emotion and helplessness.

Lu Tianxiang gently swirled the wine glass in his hand, his gaze passing through Lan Yening’s smooth, tranquil forehead as he savored this exceptionally beautiful young man.

Lu Tianxiang laughed, his teeth perfectly white: "The company’s secured you a role in a stage play. The director of this one is also an experienced figure in the industry."

"Didn’t I already take on a musical recently? Why another stage play?"

Lan Yening was curious why he’d be offered such a project again. Stage plays typically didn’t make money; they were more for gaining reputation, taken sparingly.

"While it’s a stage play, its investment is substantial, and it’ll even have international distribution." Lu Tianxiang seemed to guess his thoughts and offered an explanation.

"Am I the lead role?"

"Yes. Another crucial reason we accepted this play is because you’re the protagonist. Although the previous musical was a success, you were only the third lead."

Lan Yening smiled with satisfaction: "Alright, I’ll make sure to prepare well."

Shenghai, Dream Paris Restaurant.

Li Jiaqi sat somewhat awkwardly on an oak chair, fiddling with her utensils.

To leave a good impression on the investor, she dressed elegantly tonight.

A tight-fitting black dress with silver threads highlighted her curves perfectly, and her makeup was refined—bright but not ostentatious.

Zhang Yuzhe adeptly sliced a steak, occasionally grinning at her: "Jiaqi, is the steak not to your taste? Should I have the waiter bring you something else?"

"It’s fine; it’s pretty good." Li Jiaqi tried cutting the tendon on the steak but couldn’t manage to sever it.

Zhang Yuzhe sliced a small piece of beef, placed it in his mouth elegantly, chewed slowly, and smiled: "Jiaqi, try the escargot. It’s a famous dish from France."

As he spoke, he handed her a napkin.

Li Jiaqi looked at Zhang Yuzhe, who seemed like a completely different person, unsure how to respond.

"Jiaqi, you landing the lead role in this production was all thanks to President Zhang’s recommendation." The director, dressed in a black suit, still carried a sleazy vibe.

"Thank you, President Zhang." Li Jiaqi reluctantly took the napkin and wiped her mouth.

"I’m still not quite used to Western cuisine."

"Haha, then let’s go to a Chinese restaurant next time."

Zhang Yuzhe placed his utensils aside, his eyes cold behind thick, reflective glasses.

"Director Hu, if this production gets good feedback, I could invest in a film next."

"President Zhang, your foresight is remarkable. I guarantee this production will be excellent."

Director Hu’s obsequiousness was glaringly different from his demeanor on set.

Only at this moment did Li Jiaqi directly feel the overwhelming influence of capital.

Directors and artists—under their control, they were nothing but tools.

For her, a minor actor, to become the female lead was all thanks to Zhang Yuzhe’s favor.

She knew there was no such thing as an investment without expectations of a return.

"President Zhang, with Jiaqi on board, my confidence is higher than ever." Director Hu shamelessly praised Zhang Yuzhe again.

"I know Jiaqi’s acting skills well. This investment was also driven by how perfectly suited the script is for her, and you are a highly experienced director." Zhang Yuzhe complimented in just the right measure.

He still needed Director Hu to showcase Li Jiaqi’s talent in the production and couldn’t treat him entirely dismissively.

Li Jiaqi, on the other hand, felt helpless. The Hanoi sponsors frequently meddled, dictating how minor celebrities should behave—from their small-stage performances to their daily conduct, even what they wore and how they dressed.

By industry standards, their actions overstepped boundaries. But now, Zhang Yuzhe had essentially taken control of her entire life.

"That’s all for tonight. I have other matters to attend to." Zhang Yuzhe called for the waiter and settled the bill, totaling thirty-eight thousand yuan.

A single bottle of red wine cost over twenty thousand, complemented by Wagyu beef, live snails, and truffle dishes.

Li Jiaqi watched him pay effortlessly, realizing Zhang Yuzhe truly inhabited another world and operated on a different level entirely.