CEO's Sweetheart is a Super Idol-Chapter 405 - 397: Consuming Popularity

Outside the car window

The crowds grew denser, the sun had already set.

Fu Xiaoyu hadn’t expected Wang Yiran to reject her. She had already sensed a familiar vibe from her and was confident her judgment wasn’t wrong.

"Alright, let’s reconnect when we get the chance."

Fu Xiaoyu smiled politely and put her phone away. She guessed that one of the other three girls was likely Yiran’s close friend.

Zhang Zijing, overhearing Xiaoyu hitting a wall, couldn’t help chuckling. Yet her bright eyes continued to take in the scenery outside the window.

Ye Yuwei and Yu Qingjia acted as if they hadn’t heard anything, carrying on with their lively conversation.

"Goodbye, Yuwei!"

"Goodbye!"

The driver stopped the car half a block from Galaxy Lifestyle Center.

The reason for not going all the way was to avoid trouble.

After all, two girl groups sharing a business vehicle could easily spark speculation.

As the car started moving again, Zhang Zijing couldn’t help but laugh. "Xiaoyu, what now? Are you trying to extend the friendship circle beyond the group?"

Fu Xiaoyu raised her eyebrows with flair, running her slender, pale fingers through the wisps of hair at her forehead. "Yuwei, are you familiar with that Wang Yiran?"

"Not really. She used to be the leading star of Galaxy’s Yue Di division. After that location shut down, she was transferred here. But I did hear she’s roommates with Yu Qingjia."

Zhang Zijing laughed even harder upon hearing that. "Xiaoyu, wow, you’re basically stealing love right in front of her."

"It’s possible her circumstances aren’t great," Fu Xiaoyu shrugged nonchalantly.

Zhang Zijing felt helpless in the face of her teammate’s attitude. That’s just the kind of person Xiaoyu was—a heartless wanderer.

"Xiaoyu, we’re not who we used to be anymore."

"Captain, I know. I won’t act recklessly."

Fu Xiaoyu responded casually, clearly not taking Ye Yuwei’s words to heart.

Yuwei could only leave it at that; this wasn’t something she could delve into deeply.

"By the way, do you know how Fangxin is doing? She was really drunk last night." Zhang Zijing, sensing the tension, quickly changed the subject.

"Yesterday, we were told to attend a photoshoot together, but after just an hour of shooting, they sent her off to act in a drama. This whole thing is chaotic."

Fu Xiaoyu expressed her dissatisfaction with the company. Professional agencies generally had precise schedules, but theirs was constantly changing.

And now, Lv Fangxin had suddenly been called in to act, completely catching her off guard.

"I’m worried Fangxin won’t be able to handle it. She has no acting experience," Zhang Zijing said with genuine concern.

"We really should have a talk with the company. Big Ship and Penguin may be desperate for profitability, but draining us like this isn’t sustainable." Ye Yuwei voiced her displeasure with Big Ship as well.

Especially this premature release of individual portfolios. They only had one hit—the fluke "Burning Fat"—and no other substantial works to their name.

At this rate, the group might fall apart. Contrasting with neighboring countries, where groups underwent a month of post-debut training before even making a stage appearance.

Ye Yuwei frowned and said, "The company revealed our portfolios far too early."

Zhang Zijing’s expression dimmed. "Yeah! If only our former company had been more competent."

She knew firsthand, as the biggest victim of the infamous "running-on-three" fallout, how badly the former company had ruined her career.

Fu Xiaoyu sighed as well. "Honestly, I’d like to act too."

Ye Yuwei saw the two weren’t grasping her point and furrowed her brow. "Do you both really think acting is a good thing?"

The two turned toward her in confusion. Wasn’t acting supposed to be a good opportunity?

After all, isn’t an idol’s endgame usually transitioning into acting?

Ye Yuwei explained:

"Fans are thrilled when they see their idols join a cast, land big roles—it feels like a huge deal."

"But in reality, forget the quality of the script, or the reputation of the production team—the roles themselves don’t even get sufficient time to be properly prepared for."

It was only then that the other two understood what Ye Yuwei was trying to say.

Fu Jing sighed in agreement. "Exactly! Using our hype to drive some marketing, secure sponsors, rake in money—the production team and platform recover their costs. But the quality of what we perform? It turns out so poor we just get slammed by the audience!"

Ye Yuwei nodded. "Just a few flops, and our reputation is finished."

Zhang Zijing listened, feeling a chill. She still wanted to make it big in the industry.

"Yuwei, but what can we do about it?"

"We can negotiate with Big Ship! It’s not like we’re in no position to have those discussions."

Fu Xiaoyu chimed in, "Exactly—we still have our parent company behind us."

Ye Yuwei’s expression turned serious. "Correct. Our goal for these years should be to focus on stage performances, and establish a solid reputation for our skills within and beyond the industry. That’s the foundation for survival."

Zhang Zijing considered this for a moment:

"Skills truly are the most important thing."

"Back at the old company, people around me always complained about not getting opportunities."

"They kept thinking that throwing money at them would make them famous!"

"But once I truly stepped into this industry, I realized you need real capability to make it."

Ye Yuwei also agreed:

"In past years, due to certain circumstances, the money in this industry seemed easy to make."

"Even if audiences didn’t care for it, companies could still recoup their investments. That’s no longer the case."

"Without actual skills, without strong works, you’ll simply be weeded out."

At this point, she couldn’t help but show sarcasm:

"And then there are those who sell themselves just to get fame."

"They really think they’re worth all that money?"

"In private clubs, you can find people who are more compliant and fun for just a few thousand dollars."

"Why would anyone spend tens of millions, even billions, just to prop you up?"

Zhang Zijing echoed her disgust, "Those people are the ones who’ve messed up this whole industry."

Meanwhile, at the theater

Li Jiaqi was sitting there uneasily.

Today was the first day of filming for her new drama, but she wasn’t even a little happy.

Ever since Wang Yiran showed her a photo last time, she had spotted someone familiar in it.

That was Zhang Yuzhe’s driver, and she suspected he was the one who tasked him with following her.

But over the past few days, things had been calm on her end, and she wondered if she was merely being paranoid.

At her side, Lan Yening was sipping warm water handed over by a personal assistant.

At that moment, the set crew came over.

"Teachers, Director Hu said filming will start shortly. Are you ready?"

"Ready, let’s go!"

Lan Yening smiled politely, put down her water cup, and stood up.

"Come on. The next scene is ours. Don’t be nervous, just give it your best."

Seeing Li Jiaqi’s uneasy demeanor, Lan Yening assumed she was overly nervous.

The budget for this drama had been upgraded, aiming not just at theatrical release but also for subsequent TV scenes, so Lan Yening was even more invested. "Okay."

"Okay!" Li Jiaqi forced a smile.

However, as filming officially began, Jiaqi—whether due to actual nervousness—ended up getting NG’ed multiple times, completely failing to deliver her usual performance.

This made Director Hu visibly frustrated, as Jiaqi was considered "his actress," not to mention the female lead. This drama was critical to his career, so he immediately snapped at her in anger.

Li Jiaqi could only nervously apologize, aware of the drama’s importance for both herself and Director Hu. She blamed no one but herself for her poor condition.

Lan Yening quickly chimed in, "Director Hu, I think I might be out of sorts myself. Could I take a short break to get into the groove?"

Director Hu immediately understood this was giving Li Jiaqi a chance to save face, and he gladly went along with it. He nodded with a stern expression, "Thirty-minute adjustment."

Li Jiaqi stepped down from the set, her eyes instantly reddening, and tears began streaming uncontrollably.

"Thank you, Xiao Ning. It’s my poor state that caused trouble for you."

Watching Jiaqi’s pitiful appearance, Lan Yening’s heart softened inexplicably. In a gentle tone, he said, "It’s okay. On set, this kind of thing happens all the time. When I first started, I was scolded miserably too."

Li Jiaqi, gazing into his gentle, almost feminine eyes, felt a flutter of unease. "Your acting is great. I’m dragging you down."

"Haha, let’s not talk about who’s holding who back. Just get yourself sorted." Lan Yening tried to lighten the mood, knowing that helping her relax was the key.

"When filming resumes, just follow my rhythm. I’ll guide you—look into my eyes to find the emotion. Don’t be nervous; just focus entirely on me."

After finishing his words, Lan Yening felt they might be a bit inappropriate but couldn’t retract them.

Li Jiaqi, however, didn’t overthink it. She nodded firmly, her anxiety and panic visibly lessened.

She instinctively grabbed his hand. "Xiao Ning, thank you for caring for me and being so understanding."

Lan Yening froze slightly, then noticed the joy and trust in her eyes, feeling an unusual sense of masculinity for the first time.

But their every move was secretly filmed by his assistant and sent over to Zhang Shuya.