56: Deprioritization
[Lost Mountain Climber: HOLY PEAK THE SHOW ACTUALLY COMMITTED TO THE BIT]
[Mountain Wildlife Photographer: MY GOAT LI! FEI! LING!]
[My First Cloud: WE FOUND THE CLIMBER HE’S HERE WITH US AT THE PEAK! PEAK PEAK PEAK!]
[Daily Elegance: This is so slop-core but Jiang Jinlong is such a delulu sigma I can’t stop laughing. When will he regain his aura? Bruh is so cooked on god]
[35-year-old Math Professor With No Dog: bro your vocabulary is slop-core can you learn how to speak like a normal person]
[Hmm Duck: Don’t you guys think that sometimes Li Feiling and Chu Changfeng actually just hate each other? At least from Li Feilng… Chu Changfeng sometimes feels like he’s a little obsessive]
[Anonymous5869: It’s just a show]
[MasterfulCloud: They’re childhood friends aren’t they? It’s just a show]
[TeenageMutantNetizen: MOM! Pry me away from the computer! There’s a beautiful woman on it!]
[Chu Changfeng’s Farming Field: Chu Changfeng… drool… slurp slurp slurp drool…]
[Untouched Lotus: My sexuality is in danger!! Suits are so… eugh… why are suits so sexy you can’t be doing this to me god please have mercy on my poor single soul]
[The Honored One: Which way?]
[Untouched Lotus: BOTH WAYS!! LOOK AT CHU CHANGFENG’S ABS AT THE END! HE’S LIKE A LITTLE WHIMPERING DOG YOU WANNA TAKE CARE OF AND LOOK AT LI FEILING’S LEGS! SHE’S LIKE A DOMINEERING GODDESS WHO I WANT TO HAVE STEP ON ME! T~T CRYING HELP ME]
[Chu Changfeng Plow Me Into The Ground: There are three constants in life, death, taxes, and random people lusting over celebrities]
[ChuLi Ship Captain: please shut up, your username is literally Chu Changfeng Plow Me Into The Ground]
The Dragon’s Maw had become the season’s hit. It didn’t just dominate in viewership numbers—though it had that too—the show had also wrapped a leash around the online discourse space. Memes, edited videos, and slang. It seemed the show had become the younger generation’s darling guilty pleasure.
[Show so good that watching it feels like I’m cheating on my partner]
That’s what a certain netizen had said in an off-hand comment under a recommendation thread. What followed though, was a huge wave of concern for the partner. Manhunts ensued, and the netizen almost got shamed off the internet until a follow-up comment appeared.
[Thanks for the great concern for my partner, but no need to worry. I have no partner! Single dog checking in for duty.]
A bundle of laughs later and the incident passed.
Though nobody knew that in the far future, the netizen would fight with their partner over that specific comment…
As for the stars who had just finished shooting the scene, and remained unaware of the chaos to come, their lives continued.
Outside the set, in a nearby restaurant, Li Feiling sat in a private room with Ye Shuhua, her manager. Ye Shuhua ordered from a tablet as Li Feiling stared out the window with a pensive stare. Her eyes tracked a couple pedestrians on the lower street level, yet somehow it seemed she hadn’t truly seen them.
“What’s on your mind,” Ye Shuhua sent off the order, putting down the tablet. “You seem a little out of it.”
“Just fatigue, probably,” Li Feiling turned back to face Ye Shuhua. She grabbed the teapot, refilling her and Ye Shuhua’s teacups. “It’s always a bit exhausting to shoot anything with Chu Changfeng. You know how it is.”
Ye Shuhua raised her eyebrow. “Chu Changfeng bothering you again?”
“When is he not?” Li Feiling rolled her eyes. “He’s the one thorn who keeps prodding me in the side. He even tried to bring Xia Ruyun into the scene more, luckily Director Feng shut that down. Though, you know I’m thinking of starting some preparations for signing Xia Ruyun. I think she’ll leave her agency sometime soon so…”
Ye Shuhua paused.
Oh?
As Li Feiling continued to speak, like a dam whose gates had been opened, Ye Shuhua hid a smile.
For someone so usually self-aware, she really is a bit dense about her unique feelings towards Xia Ruyun.
Sitting back into her chair, Ye Shuhua just continued listening to Li Feiling with a gentle smile. Her graying hair reflected under the light as she sank into her role as a family friend of the Li’s.
I’ll have to tell her mother congratulations later. Her daughter’s finally found love.
Back in the hotel, Xia Ruyun sat on the edge of her bed. With the lights off and the window open, the moon illuminated half her face as she stared at her phone. On it, she had her chat window open with Li Feiling.
[Li Feiling: Hey, I’m going out for dinner with my manager, I’ll probably be busy tonight, so I won’t be able to hang out sorry]
Xia Ruyun frowned.
When she had first come back to the entertainment industry, unfamiliarity plagued her. She didn’t know a single director, she didn’t know a single actress or actor, and she didn’t know… the industry practices.
But now, she had scraped off most of her rust; and with it, she could claim to have recovered a fair understanding of how the industry worked.
Honestly better than before. I was too famous before, and people were constantly just kissing up to me.
But that then makes me wonder.
What is going on with Gao Qian? What is going on with Silverlight Entertainment? Why do they treat me like air?
Having received no communication from Gao Qian in the past month—and more—Xia Ruyun felt like a solitary clam left to rot at the bottom of the ocean. Nothing about her upcoming schedule, her future, any potential promotional events, any plans for the future, or even any concern towards her health.
If she died, she wondered if Gao Qian would even find out within the week.
…
Well, I’d rather not test that.
As a result, Xia Ruyun just sat in the darkness. She didn’t have the energy to do work. She didn’t want to go out to the gym and risk running into one of the more unsavory cast members. Yet, she also felt too antsy to just lay in bed and scroll.
What to do…
Xia Ruyun pursed her lips.
Then, her phone buzzed, lighting up with a new message.
[Mom: I dug for decades just to end up with an empty mine when I invested in your future]
[Mom: I heard you’re back in the entertainment industry? You didn’t even tell us]
[Mom: Ungrateful]
[Mom: Are you sure you have the ‘mental strength’ to survive this time? Or are you going to collapse like a house of cards like three years ago?]
Xia Ruyun’s gaze darkened.
She swiped the messages off her screen and threw her phone aside. Standing up from her bed, she grabbed a notepad from her bedside nightstand and walked to the desk by the window. The office chair creaked as she sat down. Her fingers twirled the pen she had left on the desk as she swept her hair back.
That’s something to do, how could I forget my roots?
Xia Ruyun closed her eyes as she leaned back into her chair.
That night, for the first time in three years, the forgotten Queen of Music began writing lyrics.
---
Meanwhile, three cities over, Gao Qian sat in a restaurant’s private room. A chandelier glittered, illuminating the cozy room. Across from her sat one older and one younger woman. The younger woman, with a face of someone who had just begun maturing into their beauty, wore a bedazzled dress and a full face of makeup. The older woman beside her with a face just beginning to brush up against wrinkles and age, had one arm wrapped around the other woman’s waist. She wore a suit as she faced Gao Qian with a smile.
The new CEO of Silverlight Entertainment.
Gao Qian broke the silence. “So why has the new CEO called me over?”
The older woman smiled, patting the waist of the person beside her. “Gao Qian, you’re the most famous manager in the company. I want you to take on this artist for me.”
Gao Qian paused.
This relationship does not seem to be the purest.
Yet, she didn’t dare call them out. Instead, she mustered her best deflection. “I’m… a little busy with four artists on my plate these days.”
“Well, since we don’t need you to work for Xia Ruyun, don’t you only have three?” The woman raised her eyebrows. “I know you’re already not doing much for her anyway.”
Gao Qian’s eyes widened.
Explicit confirmation towards their not-so-subtle hints. From the boss herself too...
“Don’t be so surprised,” The woman leaned back in her chair. Crossing her legs, she smiled. “We’ve been thinking about getting rid of her contract completely. ‘Drop the pretense’ as some would say.”
Gao Qian froze. Her hand trembled as a guilt began to creep up in her heart. Memories flashed through her mind—memories from before Xia Ruyun’s return.
Xia Ruyun in the center of a stadium, glowing under the lights as the crowd roared.
Xia Ruyun giving her a bouquet of flowers, a surprise for her two year anniversary in the company.
Xia Ruyun taking notes backstage before a concert in preparation for her debut film project.
I was just busy. I don’t want her to leave the company entirely...
Gao Qian mustered her courage. “She’s back in the industry though, and seems to be doing well, how can we just get rid of her? Plus, I used her to build my network, would it not be a disservice?”
“Hear what you said? Past tense,” The woman chuckled. “Her value has expired. You’ve built your network, so it’s time to move on. The entire board has talked about this, and her contract is too unfair to the company. On returns alone, she’d have to become a multiple time Best Actress just to justify the contract; and nobody thinks she’ll be able to do that.”
Gao Qian paused. She had heard this argument before.
“Plus, its existence makes our company unable to poach artists. Every time, people just ask for the same contract we gave her. Unsustainable,” The woman shook her head. “Do you understand?”
Hesitation.
Gao Qian’s hand hovered over her utensils as her food sat untouched.
The woman sighed. “I understand you’re having some hesitations.”
Gao Qian nodded. Stiff as a scarecrow.
“Don’t lie, we know that you’ve done nearly nothing for Xia Ruyun anyway, under our instruction,” The woman smiled. “Just leave it as is. We’re keeping her on the books for now, but know that she’ll be gone sooner or later. Just treat her like air.”
The woman paused, her index finger tapping against the table. “How about this, if you’re so busy right now, we’ll transfer one of your other artists away. Take this girl with me right now, and functionally you’ll only have three artists still. Your workload won’t change much that way. How’s that, quite kind of me, isn't it?”
The woman dragged her last few words. Her eyes narrowed, gleeful like a sadistic executioner.
“… I understand,” Gao Qian sighed after a long pause. “I will follow your arrangements.”