Shang Jie unexpectedly had a sleepless night.
That light goodnight kiss lingered on his lips, its soft sensation refusing to fade.
In the dark, his bright, deep eyes remained wide open. His long fingers occasionally brushed his lips, as if trying to recapture the fleeting touch.
Tossing and turning through the latter half of the night, he couldn’t shake off an unsettling restlessness.
The aftereffects of an entire sleepless night were, of course, unpleasant. During the morning meeting the next day, he even dozed off, resting his head on his arm like a woodpecker nodding off. His employees didn’t dare to speak too loudly during their reports, afraid to disrupt the boss’s dreams.
Having caught up on his sleep during the meeting, Shang Jie felt refreshed. Casually, he asked Lin Chuan, “What’s on the schedule for the afternoon?”
Lin Chuan flipped through Shang Jie’s agenda and replied, “Your afternoon is free. You could rest a bit longer—you’ve been overworked recently.”
Shang Jie nodded, then asked, “What’s her schedule in the afternoon?”
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“Qsse.”
As Lin Chuan left the office, he thought to himself, “If you want to see your wife, just say so. No need to make it sound so formal.”
Of course, Lin Chuan only dared to think this. Since Shang Jie intended to visit the subsidiary with such seriousness, Lin Chuan had no choice but to arrange for the staff to prepare for the boss’s arrival.
Jiang Xingxing had barely arrived at Leyu Media when trouble arose.
The male actor originally signed to play Xia Jie, Zhou Xu, had rushed to the company upon hearing that Jiang Xingxing would be signing her contract today.
He was now causing a scene in the conference room.
“If you sign her, I’ll terminate my contract!”
Zhou Xu was a breakout star from a talent show, a former member of a wildly popular boy band. After the group disbanded, he transitioned to acting.
Although he wasn’t a professionally trained actor, Zhou Xu had a massive fanbase and was considered a highly marketable idol. Because of his popularity, many production companies still considered him for leading roles.
However, Zhou Xu was also infamous in the industry for his diva attitude and bad temper.
This overnight sensation had all the looks and charm one could ask for, but his volatile personality was his greatest flaw. His manager often urged him to rein in his behavior, but Zhou Xu couldn’t help himself. Young and cocky, with a few achievements under his belt, he basked in the adoration of fans who called him “husband,” “darling,” and “national male idol,” leaving him intoxicated with self-importance.
His social media activity often stirred controversy. Sometimes he would call out trolls; other times, he would openly criticize other celebrities. His fanbase was like a well-trained army, ready to attack any target at his command. This only fueled his arrogance.
Now, Zhou Xu’s criticism was directly aimed at Jiang Xingxing.
“Does your company have no one else? You get an unknown actress to star opposite me? What, trying to use my popularity to boost hers?”
Jiang Xingxing was disgusted. Who wanted to ride on his popularity? His self-importance was over the top.
Director Xu Xiwei stepped forward to explain, “We chose Jiang Xingxing because of her acting skills. It has nothing to do with you.”
Zhou Xu crossed his legs arrogantly, leaning back in the chair as if he owned the place. “Didn’t you say before that Chu Yue was confirmed as the female lead? Now you’re changing the actress at the last minute? What does this mean? Does your company not have any basic integrity?”
Xu Xiwei replied, “Chu Yue didn’t pass the audition. Her acting skills weren’t up to par to handle the complexity of Ah Cheng’s character.”
Jiang Xingxing knew of Chu Yue—she and Zhou Xu had always been close in the industry. They debuted together, and there had even been dating rumors about them. Their popularity was on par, and their frequent collaboration to attract CP (couple pairing) fans had garnered even more attention. Zhou Xu likely wanted Chu Yue as his co-star to maintain this fan dynamic.
“Regardless, I refuse to work with this nobody who doesn’t even have a reputation and has a scarred face. My female lead must be an actress on par with my level. I won’t let anyone use me for clout.”
Xu Xiwei’s face darkened. “No one here is trying to use you for clout. Stop bringing the entertainment industry’s ‘fan dynamics’ into acting. If you want to be an actor, focus on the craft. Otherwise, go back to your boy band.”
With a loud “bang,” Zhou Xu slammed the table and shouted, “Stop with all this nonsense! You all must think I’m too easy to deal with. I’ll make it clear right here—either she goes, or I quit. Choose: me or her!”
Now the production team leader was in a tough spot. Zhou Xu’s popularity was undeniably high, particularly among young girls. He could bring a significant wave of fan traffic to promote the drama. Losing him for the sake of an unknown actress seemed like a poor trade-off.
Zhou Xu, fully aware of his value, sat back leisurely and even lit a cigarette, puffing away smugly.
The team leader turned to Xu Xiwei and said, “Director Xu, maybe we shouldn’t rush into signing today. We could audition a few more actresses and find someone suitable.”
“Now you’re talking,” Zhou Xu sneered. “Make sure you pick someone good. If she’s not a top-tier star, don’t even bother bringing her to me.”
Seeing her hard-earned opportunity slipping away, Jiang Xingxing immediately stepped forward to plead her case. “Director Xu, I know I’m not famous now, but please believe in me. I’ll give it my all and work my hardest to portray this role. Even if… even if it means taking a lower paycheck, I’m okay with that.”
Zhou Xu snorted. “See? Look at this, pure background actor material. Dropping her pay just to climb her way up—she really will stop at nothing to ride my coattails.”
Jiang Xingxing glared at him angrily. “I don’t need to ride your coattails. Because one day, I’ll be more famous than you.”
Zhou Xu burst out laughing. “Are you out of your mind? You actually have the nerve to say something so shameless?”
Just then, a group of board members entered Leyu Media, surrounding a sharply dressed Shang Jie.
One of the board members led Shang Jie into an office. “President Shang, please rest here for a moment while I go check if everything is ready.”
“Okay.”
Shang Jie sat down on the red leather sofa, glancing at his reflection in the full-length mirror beside him. He adjusted his tie carefully.
Lin Chuan looked at his boss and thought to himself, “What is he even doing here? At home, he’s cold and indifferent to her, always making her feel unwelcome. Yet now he rushes here to watch her audition.”
Even the board members were puzzled. It was unheard of for the highest decision-maker of the parent company to personally show up for something as trivial as an actress’s audition and contract signing.
“Is the boss just bored out of his mind?”
Since Shang Jie had arrived, even the smallest matter had turned into a major event. Every board member was on edge, fearing that any slip-up might anger him—a disaster they all wanted to avoid.
“What’s going on here?” A board member stormed into the audition room. “The boss is here, watching and waiting, and you don’t even have makeup or costumes ready? What’s the meaning of this?”
The person in charge hurried forward, explaining the situation to their superior.
“Mr. Zhou Xu refuses to work with Miss Jiang Xingxing and is now threatening to unilaterally terminate his contract.”
Upon hearing this, Zhou Xu quickly defended himself. “It’s not that I want to break the contract. It’s because you forced me to! Bringing in some no-name extra to play my female lead is an insult to me.”
“How could this happen?” The board member turned to the person in charge. “Fix this immediately. The boss is here waiting for the female lead’s audition.”
“Oh, so the boss is here,” Zhou Xu said with a smirk. “Perfect timing. Let your boss come see me. I want to have a word about this, and while you’re at it, fire this idiot director.”
Naturally, no one paid attention to him.
Xu Xiwei muttered under his breath, “Idiot.”
The person in charge whispered to the board member, “How could such a minor matter trouble someone as high up as the boss to come personally?”
“Who knows? Maybe he’s just in the mood and gave himself half a day off,” the board member replied.
The person in charge suggested, “Why don’t we just do what Zhou Xu says and bring Chu Yue back to sign the contract? It’ll settle things quickly.”
“No way,” Xu Xiwei interjected. “I chose Jiang Xingxing for the female lead. We can’t just change that arbitrarily.”
The person in charge waved dismissively. “Sometimes you have to make exceptions. As long as the production can move forward, it doesn’t matter. Chu Yue can handle the role, and she’s popular. The main priority now is giving the boss an answer.”
“I disagree with this,” Xu Xiwei insisted. “The boss is right here—I’ll explain it to him myself.”
The board member, uninterested in the specifics of casting, simply said, “Fine, go call that Chu Yue person back to sign the contract.”
Zhou Xu snapped his fingers in satisfaction. “See? That’s what I call competent leadership. Good job! Thanks a bunch.”
Meanwhile, Shang Jie was growing impatient in the office. As he flipped through a film magazine, he frequently glanced at the mirror to check his appearance.
Lin Chuan wanted to say, “You’re already looking perfect today. Plus, your wife sees you every day. She knows exactly what you look like—why the fuss over this moment?”
But then he thought better of it. People in love, even if unaware of it, often act absurdly. Compared to some, Shang Jie was even restrained. With this realization, Lin Chuan refrained from commenting further.
He stepped outside and asked the anxious board members, “Mr. Shang has been waiting for forty minutes. Does this really take so long to prepare?”
The board members, as agitated as ants on a hot pan, hurriedly responded, “Almost ready! Almost!”
Just then, the person in charge rushed over, panting. “Everyone’s in place. We’re ready to proceed with the audition. Please escort Mr. Shang to the third-floor set.”
Lin Chuan returned to the office to inform Shang Jie. Rising from his seat, Shang Jie straightened his tie one last time in the mirror before leaving.
A group of formally dressed board members cleared the way for him, leading him to the set where the male and female leads were now ready.
Jiang Xingxing, however, sat alone in the corner on a cold bench, her gaze lowered, her thin shoulders slightly hunched, looking utterly dejected.
“Actors, take your positions. Begin the audition!”
The scene being performed was the one Jiang Xingxing had rehearsed with Shang Jie the night before on the sofa: Ah Cheng confessing to Xia Jie that she had fallen for another boy, and Xia Jie suppressing his heartbreak while forcing a smile to comfort her.
But as soon as Shang Jie saw the unfamiliar face of the female lead and the male lead’s exaggerated acting, his expression darkened.
Lin Chuan, having worked with Shang Jie for years, immediately noticed his displeasure. He turned to the board member and asked, “They changed the actress?”
The board member, surprised that Lin Chuan had caught on, explained nervously, “Yes, there was a last-minute issue, so we replaced the female lead. But Chu Yue’s acting is excellent, and she’s well-known. The board unanimously agreed she was more suitable than the previous, unknown actress.”
Lin Chuan’s expression turned icy. “I doubt that.”
At that moment, Shang Jie’s gaze shifted from the scene to the figure sitting on the cold bench—Jiang Xingxing.
Jiang Xingxing noticed him too and instantly understood what was going on.
So “he” was the high-profile boss who had everyone in a frenzy.
Yesterday, she had bragged in front of him about how her acting had impressed the director and secured her the lead role. Yet, just one day later, she had been replaced. Jiang Xingxing felt her face flush with embarrassment. She couldn’t even bring herself to meet Shang Jie’s eyes.
Shang Jie, however, kept his composure, though only Lin Chuan knew how very, very, very displeased he was. The only reason he hadn’t interrupted or walked out was because of his habitual restraint and courtesy.
His expression, shifting unpredictably between dark and neutral, made the board members feel like they were sitting on pins and needles.
Even Lin Chuan was inwardly distressed.
The only ones blissfully ignorant of the situation were Zhou Xu and Chu Yue, who continued their exaggerated performance, entirely unaware of the storm brewing around them.
Watching them, Jiang Xingxing couldn’t help but think that Zhou Xu’s acting was worse than her husband’s.
When the audition finally ended, Shang Jie still hadn’t said a word. He remained silent for a long time. And because he said nothing, no one else dared to speak.
The atmosphere became painfully awkward.
Confident in himself, Zhou Xu looked at Shang Jie and said smugly, “You must be the big boss, right? Let me tell you, you’d better replace this director before they ruin this project. Earlier, they actually wanted some nobody, a mere extra, to play the female lead. Can you believe it? And her face—did you see that massive scar on her forehead? I have no idea what your team was thinking. Let me tell you, if I hadn’t stepped in, your investment in this drama would’ve gone down the drain.”
The person in charge rushed over and physically pulled Zhou Xu aside, whispering frantically, “Stop talking nonsense! Do you realize who you’re addressing? Mr. Shang isn’t someone you can casually call out like this. Watch yourself!”
At that moment, Shang Jie, who had remained silent until now, stood up and said calmly, “Your name is Zhou Xu, correct?”
“Yes, that’s me!” Zhou Xu raised his eyebrows confidently, thinking his fame had even reached the boss’s ears.
“Good.” Shang Jie turned to the board members and said, “Blacklist him. From this moment forward, no subsidiary of the Shang Group’s entertainment companies will work with him. Inform our partners of this decision as well.”
The board members’ eyes widened in shock, and the person in charge was utterly stunned.
None of them had expected things to escalate to this extent. Being blacklisted—and having this communicated to industry partners—was essentially a career death sentence for Zhou Xu.
In the entertainment world, few dared to cross Shang Jie, let alone face an outright ban orchestrated by him.
This was, in essence, a direct cancellation of Zhou Xu’s career.
Zhou Xu, still not grasping the gravity of the situation, stammered, “W-what’s going on?”
Shang Jie glanced at him coldly and said with chilling calm—
“The so-called ‘nobody’ and ‘ugly woman’ you spoke of is my wife.”
Sansukini: Tsundere.
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🤭🤭 he was so 😎😎