Chapter 7: The Movie Emperor Engages in Education

Another scene wrapped up, and Chen Chang’an sighed while hugging his arms.

Being an extra was much easier, especially playing a corpse; all he had to do was find a spot on the ground and lie down, plus there were red envelopes for good luck to collect.

Now, as the second male lead, even a blink required him to consider camera angles and positions.

In novels, it’s written so lightly, as if improving one’s acting skills is easier than picking green beans out of a pile of mung beans; but having truly tried it, he realized that enhancing his acting was as impossible as picking green beans out of a pimple—there was simply no way to start.

He couldn’t help but complain about his character: “You, Pei Shengyu, really don’t get it. It’s clearly a good age for studying, yet you’re thinking about romance.”

This line made Jiang Baiqing chuckle: “If an actor can’t perform well, blaming the character is no different from blaming the pot lid for not being able to cook.”

“Cooking is much simpler for me than acting,” Chen Chang’an completely missed Jiang Baiqing’s implication. “Teacher Jiang, please don’t be so harsh on me. My fans say I still have a lot of room for improvement.”

“Your room for improvement?” Jiang Baiqing pondered for a moment. “If a person’s known abilities and potential are truly inversely proportional, then you must be the one with the greatest potential on set.”

Chen Chang’an protested, “Teacher Jiang, that’s hurtful.”

Jiang Baiqing found joy in Chen Chang’an’s suffering, pulled out a folding chair beside him, and sat down leisurely.

Just as he was about to say something, Chen Chang’an’s phone rang.

Jiang Baiqing instinctively frowned and fell silent.

Chen Chang’an picked it up and saw it was a call from the big villain, Zheng Rongyu.

He quickly answered, “Hello, Uncle Rong, what’s up?”

“Is it wrong for me to call you if there’s nothing going on?” Zheng Rongyu replied with a calm retort.

Chen Chang’an broke into a cold sweat at the question: “No, no, if you don’t call me, I’ll have to call you!”

Zheng Rongyu remained noncommittal: “From what I know of you, if I stop giving you money, you wouldn’t even come to pay respects when I’m dead.”

Hearing this, Chen Chang’an had to admit, the villain really understood him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his uncle; it was just that he was too terrifying.

Even a rabid dog would have to be held down by Zheng Rongyu’s subordinates to get a couple of vaccine shots before it could leave with its tail between its legs.

Chen Chang’an chuckled awkwardly, and Zheng Rongyu continued, “This Friday afternoon, a stylist will come to the set to find you. Get dressed up, and come with me to a cocktail party in the evening.”

“Uncle Rong, what made you think of bringing me? You’ve never taken me to these things before,” Chen Chang’an instinctively felt wary.

“‘Why’? There’s no reason; I just want to bring you,” Zheng Rongyu said with an ambiguous smile. “A vase at home should be taken out for everyone to admire.”

“Thank you, Uncle Rong,” Chen Chang’an said with a bitter smile.

What could he say? With his inexperienced demeanor, Zheng Rongyu dared to take him to events without minding that he might embarrass him.

The big boss, Zheng Rongyu, wasn’t afraid of losing face; what did a small role like him have to fear?

—

Suddenly, Jiang Baiqing, with his head down, casually asked, “The uncle who sent you the sports car, the one with no blood relation?”

“That’s him,” Chen Chang’an nodded obediently.

Jiang Baiqing refrained from commenting on Chen Chang’an’s private life and asked, “He wants you to attend a cocktail party on Friday night? Whose party is it?”

Chen Chang’an scratched his head and honestly replied, “I don’t know.”

Jiang Baiqing thought for a moment; it made sense that Chen Chang’an, being supported, wouldn’t be informed about such details.

“Focus on acting well, and you’ll get what you want,” he advised subtly after a moment of contemplation. “Then you won’t have to endure such grievances.”

Chen Chang’an was puzzled: “What kind of ‘grievance’? I’m not suffering at all.”

Jiang Baiqing analyzed earnestly: “His tone when he speaks to you is so harsh, and he doesn’t even ask for your opinion. That’s actually quite wrong. But you’re used to it, so you naturally don’t feel wronged.”

It was indeed very wrong, but Zheng Rongyu was the big villain; if he said the moon was the sun, Chen Chang’an would still have to get up at night to plow the fields.

Three seconds later, Chen Chang’an was shocked, realizing something was off: “Wait, wait, how do you know about his tone when he talks to me?”

Jiang Baiqing slowly responded with an “Oh”: “Didn’t I tell you? Your phone has serious sound leakage.”

His tone was as casual as if he were saying, “The lunch boxes from the crew today were delicious.”

Chen Chang’an nearly fainted: “Then, then, then, that time in the elevator when I was on the phone—”

Jiang Baiqing couldn’t help but show a hint of amusement: “—I actually heard that too.”

“Teacher Jiang, you’ll forgive me, right?” Chen Chang’an looked at Jiang Baiqing with a pitiful expression. “I originally wanted to buy a press release to hype up our outfit clash, but in the end, I pulled back at the last moment; I still have a conscience!”

“And then you recycled that conscience to buy a press release to arrange that we have a good relationship,” Jiang Baiqing unhesitatingly exposed him. “‘Pulled back at the last moment,’ ‘still have a conscience’? Not bad, you’ve even been forced to use idioms.”

Chen Chang’an was almost brought to tears, trying to defend himself: “Teacher Jiang…”

Looking into Chen Chang’an’s eyes, Jiang Baiqing fell silent for a moment before suddenly saying, “But I’ve already forgiven you.”

This was a pleasant surprise for Chen Chang’an; he was both happy and confused, but he didn’t ask further, expressing his gratitude: “You’re such a good person.”

He didn’t ask, but Jiang Baiqing had a belly full of words with no outlet: “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

Chen Chang’an obediently shook his head: “Teacher Jiang says so, there must be your own reasons.”

Jiang Baiqing’s face darkened, and after a moment, he said, “I allow you to ask.”

“Okay, then why aren’t you holding it against me?” Chen Chang’an asked perfunctorily, clearly uninterested.

“I don’t know why either,” Jiang Baiqing was momentarily stumped, finally managing to say what he wanted, “But I just will forgive you.”

He was originally a person of few desires, but Chen Chang’an’s provocations had him fluctuating, and he was always soft-hearted towards the latter.

This was not a good sign; Jiang Baiqing couldn’t control himself.

Chen Chang’an didn’t understand Jiang Baiqing’s meaning and cautiously asked, “Um… then thank you?”

Jiang Baiqing clearly found it a bit absurd: “…No need to thank me.”

“I will try my best not to let you down,” the simple-minded Chen Chang’an was very touched. “I thought I was unreliable, but now that you’ve encouraged me, I will definitely act well and strive to bring back a movie emperor trophy.”

Jiang Baiqing was choked: “You…”

“What’s wrong, Teacher Jiang?”

“Having such thoughts is good,” Jiang Baiqing said with difficulty, “Just next time you mention this thought to others, don’t say it was inspired by my encouragement.”

Chen Chang’an looked at him with respect: “Doing good deeds without leaving a name?”

“Not at all,” Jiang Baiqing said calmly, “I’m just afraid of losing face.”

Just as Chen Chang’an’s spirit was wounded, Jiang Baiqing added, “You’d better say it was Jiang Youchuan who encouraged you; I’m sure Director Jiang would be very willing to support a future movie emperor.”

Chen Chang’an pointed at his own head, incredulously asking, “Is my head a leather ball? You all just kick it around.”

“Of course not,” Jiang Baiqing said kindly, “Your head is a surprise-filled Easter egg, just waiting to be developed.”

—

When the stylist sent by Zheng Rongyu was doing Chen Chang’an’s styling, Jiang Youchuan squatted beside him, sighing, while the crew’s stylist squatted next to Jiang Youchuan, sighing along with him.

Jiang Youchuan said solemnly, “People can be so envious; when will President Zheng realize that the director is the face of a crew? Why can’t I have a dedicated stylist too?”

“I know the stylist who does Little God of Wealth’s styling; they’re world-class, even used by the top fashion shows. Little God of Wealth has experienced better stylists; will he look down on my work in the future?” The beautiful stylist wore a face of despair, looking as if she was about to be unemployed. “If he does look down on me, could you please give me his stylist’s contact information? I would have no regrets in this life.”

Xu Chengzi, who had come along with the stylist, couldn’t help but laugh and said to Chen Chang’an, “You crew members are really interesting.”

Chen Chang’an mysteriously shook his head: “You haven’t seen the most interesting part yet.”

Anyone who hasn’t seen the seemingly gentle yet secretly sharp-tongued Jiang Baiqing’s life is incomplete.

After saying that, he instinctively looked around, still not seeing Jiang Baiqing’s figure.

“How strange…” he muttered, “What wind blew this great Buddha away today?”

Surprisingly, he found himself missing the movie emperor after not seeing him for a while.

At that moment, Jiang Youchuan’s phone rang; he took it out and saw “Movie Emperor Bro” on the screen.

Jiang Youchuan instinctively felt something was off and answered, “What’s up, Movie Emperor?”

Jiang Baiqing’s tone was rather peculiar: “I have a friend whose protégé might be in a relationship with a sugar daddy. As a senior, shouldn’t I find a way to advise him?”

“Uh, should I say yes or no?” Jiang Youchuan asked tentatively.

“You should say yes.” The movie emperor’s tone left no room for argument.

“Ah, okay.” Jiang Youchuan nodded, “Then that’s it.”

“Good, I understand.”

With that, Jiang Baiqing hung up the phone.

“What friend? Isn’t it just you?” Jiang Youchuan muttered under his breath, “And you call yourself a movie emperor with such poor acting skills.”

—

Half an hour later, Chen Chang’an regretted that it was better not to meet at all.

He didn’t expect Jiang Baiqing to also attend this cocktail party, wearing a dark red shirt, as if he were afraid no one would see him.

Here’s the situation: Chen Chang’an stood behind Zheng Rongyu, acting as a vase, while Zheng Rongyu and Jiang Baiqing both spotted each other and stopped in their tracks. Zheng Rongyu was looking at Jiang Baiqing, and Jiang Baiqing was looking at Chen Chang’an.

Chen Chang’an inwardly cried out: This is bad; the male lead and the villain are facing off, and it’s bound to be a battlefield.

Jiang Baiqing had actually arrived long ago; upon receiving the invitation for tonight’s dinner, he had a vague premonition that he would encounter Chen Chang’an.

His thoughts were simple; he just wanted to see how Chen Chang’an interacted with his “financial backer” and then advise Chen Chang’an to turn back.

He also thought about how Chen Chang’an called the person on the other end of the phone “Uncle Rong,” and for half an hour, Jiang Baiqing hadn’t given anyone with the name “Rong” a good face.

The president of the Chuangshi Group was surnamed Rong—forty years old, with a beer belly and severe fatty liver, and most importantly, he had a wife, making him unsuitable for Chen Chang’an.

The wealthy young master with a name that included “Rong”—a bar-hopping flirt who was in his twenties and already had kidney issues, a slacker who didn’t strive for progress, was not as hardworking as Chen Chang’an.

The chairman of Fengyun Company was hard of hearing—seventy or eighty years old, with children who were all so capable that when he passed away, they wouldn’t even be able to divide the inheritance, how could he provide the happiness Chen Chang’an wanted?

After thinking all afternoon, Jiang Baiqing never would have guessed that Chen Chang’an was actually in front of Zheng Rongyu.

Zheng Rongyu was only in his early thirties, a young talent among the young elites in the business world. He usually didn’t indulge in pleasures and never brought anyone to events, nor had he ever heard of him keeping a little star.

His demeanor made him a hot commodity among many young ladies from prestigious families.

Today, he was willing to bring Chen Chang’an out, which must mean he intended to introduce him to everyone publicly.

If Chen Chang’an were with someone else, Jiang Baiqing could have said a few words, but since Chen Chang’an was with Zheng Rongyu, no matter the angle, Jiang Baiqing couldn’t persuade him.

“So this is the ‘Uncle Rong’ you mentioned?” Jiang Baiqing’s expression was somewhat subtle.

Chen Chang’an, unsuspecting, replied, “Yes, he’s the one who sent me the sports car, and my living expenses are also provided by him.”

Zheng Rongyu, hearing Chen Chang’an openly mention the source of his funds, cast a meaningful glance at him.

The previous Chen Chang’an, while taking Zheng Rongyu’s money, pretended to be from a wealthy family, but he wasn’t this calm.

This wasn’t the first time Chen Chang’an had met Jiang Baiqing, so Jiang Baiqing couldn’t be the reason for Chen Chang’an’s calmness; the only thing that had changed was Chen Chang’an himself.

In a detail so small it was almost imperceptible, Chen Chang’an had gloriously dropped his vest.

After retracting his gaze, Zheng Rongyu finally greeted, “President Jiang, long time no see.”

“Long time no see,” Jiang Baiqing replied with a fake smile. “Your nephew is quite accomplished at a young age, reminiscent of the young Zheng from back in the day. It’s an honor to see you here, President Zheng.”

“Chen Chang’an is just a kid who can’t get up the wall; we both know that, no need for forced flattery,” Zheng Rongyu chuckled, patting Jiang Baiqing on the shoulder. “As for me, I don’t have too many expectations for this child; as long as he’s happy, that’s enough.”

This statement fell on Chen Chang’an’s ears like, “As for me, I don’t have too many expectations for this vase; as long as it looks pretty, that’s fine.”

Chen Chang’an dared not express his anger and could only stand behind Zheng Rongyu, glaring indignantly at the latter’s suit shoulder pads.

Jiang Baiqing watched as Chen Chang’an’s gaze remained glued to Zheng Rongyu, feeling inexplicably displeased: “That’s not how you should say it; I genuinely want to praise Chang’an.”

“Tsk.” Zheng Rongyu raised an eyebrow slightly. “President Jiang seems to have a very good relationship with my nephew, so good that you can easily turn black into white.”

Jiang Baiqing didn’t respond to the first part, tacitly agreeing: “Regardless of black and white, each has their own conclusions, but President Zheng’s evaluation of his own nephew in front of me seems rather inappropriate.”

Zheng Rongyu held his wine glass casually and said, “What does it matter? Isn’t there you to defend him?”

Before Jiang Baiqing could speak, Zheng Rongyu leisurely added, “Elevator? Trending search? Two hours?”

If Jiang Baiqing’s public image was that of a gentleman like a bamboo, then Zheng Rongyu was a heart-wrenching flower that devoured people.

Jiang Baiqing’s expression remained unchanged, but his tone sharpened a few degrees: “With President Zheng’s temperament, you shouldn’t be swayed by marketing accounts, should you?”

“I usually don’t care, but if it’s about you, I’m willing to listen to all the rumors,” Zheng Rongyu said lightly. “A capable person like President Jiang, the shallow speculations of marketing accounts can’t even simulate one-tenth of the truth.”

“President Zheng, you flatter me.” Jiang Baiqing’s teeth were subtly clenched; a producer called his name from the other side, and he glanced at Chen Chang’an one last time before saying, “Excuse me for a moment; I’m sure President Zheng won’t mind, as we have plenty of time ahead.”

As Jiang Baiqing walked away, Zheng Rongyu looked like a victorious peacock, satisfied as he took a sip of red wine.

Chen Chang’an, watching the two celestial beings engage in their cryptic battle, finally regained his ability to speak.

His expression was somewhat complex: “Uncle Rong, you know who the male lead is in the movie directed by Jiang Youchuan that you invested in, right?”

“I know, it’s Jiang Baiqing,” Zheng Rongyu replied nonchalantly.

“Then, why would you invest in a movie he’s starring in when your relationship with him is so poor?”

“Because Jiang Baiqing makes money,” Zheng Rongyu smiled. “Having a competitor work for you is interesting; the money he earns, I take two-eighths of the cut, and I only need to invest to take most of his profits. Don’t you think that’s amusing?”

Chen Chang’an was left speechless by his peculiar logic: “Aren’t you afraid he’ll retaliate against you later?”

Zheng Rongyu pondered for a moment: “‘Retaliate’ against me? He wouldn’t be willing to invest in his own projects, while I’m the one providing him with a meal; he should be thanking me instead.”

Chen Chang’an thought: Zheng Rongyu has never been bagged and beaten in his life; he truly relies on his money ability.

Of course, Zheng Rongyu wouldn’t tell Chen Chang’an that to gain this verbal advantage today, the company’s public relations department had to press the keyboard until sparks flew.

—

Zheng Rongyu certainly didn’t have the time to keep an eye on Chen Chang’an all the time; after introducing him to a few resources, he went off to discuss collaborations.

Chen Chang’an lingered alone at the dessert table, discovering a particularly delicious cookie and continuously stuffing small biscuits into his mouth.

“Chen Chang’an, come here for a moment.”

Over there, Jiang Baiqing suddenly turned his head and called him while chatting with a producer.

“What’s up, Teacher Jiang?” Chen Chang’an asked foolishly.

With so many people around, Jiang Baiqing didn’t explain; he just waved at Chen Chang’an.

He smiled gently, which was oddly terrifying: “Just come over.”

Sticking his neck out could lead to a knife, so Chen Chang’an didn’t hesitate and walked over directly.

“Yi Lao, this is the Chen Chang’an I mentioned to you,” Jiang Baiqing said, patting Chen Chang’an’s shoulder.

The old man standing in the middle of the producers squinted and looked Chen Chang’an up and down before smiling and nodding, speaking in a southern accent: “Hehe, good, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a handsome young man.”

Chen Chang’an felt a bit shy about the compliment and humbly replied, “Just average, average, third in domestic entertainment.”

It wasn’t narcissism; Chen Chang’an had a widely recognized nickname: “Domestic Entertainment’s Number One Face.”

Jiang Baiqing was still secretly pushing: “Although Chang’an’s acting isn’t great, he’s hardworking and serious. It should be good for you to shoot a cover with him, right?”

“You’ve arranged everything for me; what else can I say?” Yi Lao said, his expression not angry, indicating he was familiar with Jiang Baiqing. “Then let’s shoot him; this year, I won’t shoot you.”

“That won’t do!” Chen Chang’an suddenly realized that the movie emperor was giving him resources. “You should still shoot Teacher Jiang; he’s much better than I am.”

This statement genuinely pleased Jiang Baiqing, who chuckled softly: “You don’t understand this little rule; I really don’t know what to say about you. The opportunity given to you, just seize it. If you keep passing it back and forth, Yi Lao won’t be happy, and no one will secure anything.”

“Don’t say that; would I really hold it against you?” Yi Lao kindly patted Chen Chang’an’s shoulder. “You’re just a kid who doesn’t understand the situation; you’ll be fine with more practice.”

Jiang Baiqing smiled and said, “Good.”

Chen Chang’an was confused: Wasn’t he talking to me? What’s with the ‘good’? Are you my agent?

In fact, Jiang Baiqing spent the entire night frantically introducing people to Chen Chang’an.

Zheng Rongyu called his assistant to take him home. The assistant adjusted his glasses and asked, “Zheng, what about Xiao Chen?”

Looking at Chen Chang’an, who was being forced to follow Jiang Baiqing around the venue, Zheng Rongyu smiled enigmatically and said, “Don’t worry about him, let’s go.”

The assistant thought the boss was upset: “Should I remind Xiao Chen not to get too close to Jiang Baiqing?”

“It’s fine, we’re the ones benefiting,” Zheng Rongyu said with a secretive smile. “Do you know what the situation is right now? It’s like our pig is eating someone else’s chaff—profitable and risk-free.”

The assistant was taken aback by the boss’s whimsical metaphor but obediently went to drive.

The author has something to say:

Zheng (with a loving expression): Good, eat more, it would be best if you could eat Jiang Baiqing into bankruptcy.

Chang’an (as a little pig): … Oink oink? Oink oink?