Magnate Tycoon: How Did Simply Enjoying Life Make Me a Male God?-Chapter 632 - 431: A Sudden Change of Attitude

Upon hearing this, the assistant director's expression changed instantly, his lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something to persuade.

But when he met Yang Xiaoxiu's eyes, firm as a rock, the words he wanted to say were swallowed back down.

In the end, he could only shake his head slowly with a sigh of resignation.

In his heart, he feared Yang Xiaoxiu's stubborn decision had probably pushed his own future into an abyss.

Meanwhile, the others in the room, upon hearing the conversation between Yang Xiaoxiu and the assistant director, had various thoughts.

Some people secretly shook their heads, their eyes full of disdain, thinking this young girl was still too brash, proud, and unaware of the world.

Others showed a look of pity, thinking that Yang Xiaoxiu was just too naive and childish because she hadn't experienced enough setbacks.

And there were a few whose eyes shone with admiration; they admired Yang Xiaoxiu's courage, but due to Zhang Fuqiang's intimidating pressure, they didn't dare to openly speak out in support.

They could only silently hope for a miracle in their hearts, wishing Yang Xiaoxiu could win this confrontation of unequal strength, although everyone knew this was almost an impossible luxury.

Not long after, Zhang Fuqiang walked into the room with a sullen face, his suit collar crooked, tie hanging loosely around his neck, with dust from a wall he had leaned against at some point smudging his temple.

The murmurs in the room abruptly stopped, and everyone sat up straight, pretended to be focused on their food.

Someone accidentally knocked over a wine glass in a corner, startling everyone with a shiver, as if the air froze instantly.

Zhang Fuqiang swept his gaze around the room, his look as cold as a blade, but said nothing.

He dragged his steps heavily back to the main seat, absentmindedly sank into his spot, accidentally knocking over a seasoning dish, further adding to the oppressive atmosphere of the room.

The air was filled with suffocating silence, making it hard to breathe.

Everyone held their breath, expecting the tension to flare up again into a confrontation.

However, five minutes passed, and Zhang Fuqiang just stared blankly at a bowl of sea cucumber soup that had formed a layer of grease.

The fingers holding his chopsticks were motionless, his eyes unfocused, the previous arrogance gone, replaced by a vacant expression, as if his soul had been drained.

The assistant director noticed that Zhang Fuqiang's soup remained untouched, oblivious even to the heat dissipating and the surface forming a film.

"What's happened to Teacher Zhang?"

The cinematographer gently nudged the lighting technician beside him with an elbow, exchanging a meaningful glance as they occasionally stole glances at Zhang Fuqiang and Yang Xiaoxiu's direction.

Under the emboldening eyes of everyone, the assistant director Liu Cheng put on a brave face, a cautious tone in his voice: "Teacher Zhang, is there something on your mind?"

Zhang Fuqiang shuddered, as if waking from a nightmare, a flicker of unnaturalness crossing his pale face.

"It's nothing, you all just continue eating." However, the hand lifting his wine glass trembled uncontrollably.

This only deepened the suspicion, though everyone kept their heads down as if concentrating on their food, their ears were pricked for any sound.

Yang Xiaoxiu continued to sit straight-backed, her demeanor as composed as if she were taking a break in her own living room.

The plate before her was clean and neat, not even a grain of rice spilled, a stark contrast to the disarray in front of Zhang Fuqiang.

This strange reversal of ambiance made the room's atmosphere extremely stifling, yet no one dared to break the silence lightly.

Until the waiter came in for the third time to refill the tea, the dinner remained blanketed in stillness.

Unexpectedly, even as the plates were emptied, Zhang Fuqiang never glanced at Yang Xiaoxiu again, nor did he mention the matter of replacing her.

Some of the more perceptive actors exchanged glances, suspicion flashing in their eyes, could this newcomer Yang Xiaoxiu really have some hidden backing?

Was Zhang Fuqiang's transformation all because of this new star in the entertainment industry?

Thinking of this, those who had scoffed at Yang Xiaoxiu earlier now deliberately avoided her direction when picking up food, afraid of inadvertently offending this mysterious rising star, and even when getting up for a napkin, they circled around to avoid her seat.

"Teacher Zhang, maybe we should..." The assistant director's words were cut off abruptly.

Zhang Fuqiang suddenly stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor: "Eat and leave, staying here waiting for me to wrap up?"

The crowd's expressions slightly changed at his words, but upon hearing they could disperse, they instantly acted as if granted amnesty, piling on sycophantic smiles, all rushing to say, "Teacher Zhang, I have some things to attend to, I must go first." "Teacher Zhang, enjoy your meal, I have to head home!" "Thanks for the invitation, Teacher Zhang, I'll host the next time," and then scrambled out of the room like they were escaping.

Someone, in their hurry, knocked over a coat rack, the ensuing clatter making the dinner seem all the more farcical.

Some even left without grabbing their coats, rushing out the door.

As the assistant director packed up his things, his eyes unintentionally fell on Yang Xiaoxiu.

Remembering Zhang Fuqiang's unusual behavior, and seeing the girl's calm demeanor, a thread of doubt crept into his heart.

He opened his mouth, intending to ask "Xiaoxiu, what's going on between you and Teacher Zhang," but recalling Zhang Fuqiang's drastic change in demeanor, he hesitated.

After nearly ten seconds of contemplation, he finally adopted a respectful tone, smiling as he said, "Teacher Xiao Xiu, I'll be leaving then."

Upon hearing this, Yang Xiaoxiu paused, but before she could respond, Liu Cheng had already clutched his script and turned hastily, nearly missing a step on the stairs as he descended.