Exchange of Movie Queens - Chapter 23

Xi Mo found herself surrounded by a group of people whose varied gazes scrutinized her from head to toe, instantly filling her with a sense of revulsion at being gawked at.

Yan Mu, however, seemed genuinely intent on introducing her to everyone. Perhaps having heard her earlier remark about being unfamiliar with the crew, he wanted to lend her a hand, hoping she could integrate quickly. Even if others weren’t truly accepting, they wouldn’t openly ostracize her out of respect for his presence. Harmonious crews weren’t unheard of, but far more common were those with unspoken hierarchies—people fawning over those above them while looking down on unknowns. Yan Mu had seen it all too often.

Everyone present was an actor, adept at putting on a show. Out of deference to Yan Mu, they flocked to her with smiles, but Xi Mo could practically see their inner thoughts bursting forth—So she’s clinging to Yan Mu’s coattails!

Xi Mo: “…”

Lin Qitang and Producer Ye approached, with Lin Qitang looking pleased. “Looks like everyone’s getting along well here.”

The group chorused, “Hello, Director Lin! Hello, Teacher Ye!”

Lin Qitang nodded, then glanced at Xi Mo.

Initially, he hadn’t known much about Ruan Yesheng’s background—her resume had been sparse and unremarkable. But after Xi Mo’s audition, he’d been stunned by her masterful acting, far beyond a newcomer’s level. Curious, he’d looked into Ruan Yesheng’s history and was even more surprised, even watching her breakout film Song of the Road. Convinced he’d struck gold, he now regarded her with high expectations.

If nurtured properly, she could easily regain her fame. Signing her to his studio later would be a smart investment.

“Where’s Xi Mo?” Lin Qitang suddenly asked, glancing around. “She has quite a few scenes with Ruan Yesheng, starting tomorrow. Shouldn’t they discuss things beforehand?”

Xi Mo’s expression stiffened.

Why look for her? I’m standing right here!

Yan Mu chuckled. “My sister’s probably busy. She hasn’t arrived yet. Qingming called to say she’d be running late—it’s not like we’ve started anyway.”

Xi Mo’s face remained taut.

What sister?! How many times do I have to say it—I’m not your sister, you naive fool!

The others, however, latched onto Lin Qitang’s words. This was huge—he was practically asking Xi Mo to mentor this nobody, Ruan Yesheng! Given Xi Mo’s status, the director’s suggestion was staggering. Their inner monologues surged like tidal waves, nearly splashing onto Xi Mo’s face—So she’s clinging to Director Lin’s coattails too!

Xi Mo: “…”

Forcing her facial muscles into Ruan Yesheng’s signature smile, Xi Mo said, “Thank you, Director Lin. Since Xi Mo isn’t here yet, I’ll seek her guidance when the opportunity arises.”

Lin Qitang nodded approvingly before addressing the group. “Tomorrow marks the start of hard work for all of us. Tonight, relax and enjoy yourselves!”

As the crowd dispersed, Ruan Yesheng finally made her entrance, poised like a painting amidst the gathering. The moment the “real” Xi Mo appeared, the group swarmed toward her like moths to a spotlight. Ruan Yesheng exchanged polite pleasantries, occasionally offering a measured, dignified smile—perfectly mirroring Xi Mo’s usual demeanor.

Xi Mo typically maintained an aloof demeanor, rarely initiating interactions. When others spoke to her or showed kindness, she would respond politely but seldom took the initiative herself. Knowing this trait well, Ruan Yesheng merely glanced at Xi Mo across the dining table without any further reaction. Yan Mu approached warmly, calling her “sister” and inviting her to sit beside him. Ruan Yesheng nodded gracefully and took her seat with poise.

Xi Mo stole several glances her way, confirming she hadn’t overstepped and that her own image remained intact before finally focusing on the table.

As the dinner progressed, toasting and social drinking became inevitable. Glasses clinked in a customary exchange—drinking a cup was seen as a sign of respect, though Xi Mo had no idea who had established such a rule. In her opinion, whoever did deserved a beating.

The actors at the table, noticing how Yan Mu and Lin Qitang had subtly or casually shown Xi Mo consideration, also raised their glasses to toast her. But before they could lift their cups, Yan Tinghuan swiftly intercepted with a bright smile, “I’m Ruan Ruan’s agent, surnamed Yan. Please take good care of her during filming!”

Seeing Yan Tinghuan’s enthusiastic lead, the others couldn’t refuse and instead clinked glasses with her.

Xi Mo, still recovering from heatstroke, was spared the ordeal of drinking.

Seated beside her was a young man named Ding Pei, a former music competition contestant with his own fanbase. He played a eunuch frequently appearing alongside the male lead, Liu Zhao.

Shyly raising his glass, Ding Pei turned to Xi Mo. “Miss Ruan, I noticed we have quite a few scenes together later. I—”

Before he could finish his toast, Yan Tinghuan swooped in. “Oh my, you’re Ding Pei, right?”

Caught off guard, Ding Pei stammered, “Y-yes.”

Yan Tinghuan beamed. “I watched your show—I’m a huge fan! Come on, let me toast you!”

Flustered but flattered, Ding Pei abandoned his original plan and clinked glasses with her instead. “Thank you, Miss Yan.”

Once again, Xi Mo dodged the drinking.

Yan Tinghuan, whose audacity could rival ten stacked city walls, feigned disappointment. “It’s too bad there’s no pen or paper now. Next time, you absolutely must give your loyal fan an autograph!”

Never mind that she hadn’t heard a single song of his.

Ding Pei, guileless as ever, eagerly agreed. “Of course, of course!”

Yan Tinghuan mentally noted to avoid him in the future.

Round after round, Xi Mo barely touched her drink—Yan Tinghuan downed most of them on her behalf. Outwardly indifferent, Xi Mo felt a flicker of gratitude. In her mind, Yan Tinghuan believed she was helping Ruan Yesheng, her dear friend, unaware of the truth.

Yet Xi Mo had undeniably benefited. Her opinion of Yan Tinghuan softened slightly, and she shot her a look, silently urging her to stop drinking.

How could people sit together without talking? At first, they didn’t know each other, but once seated and eating, a conversation had to start. Otherwise, the whole table would be like a bunch of stiff, silent figures rising from coffins—what an awkward scene that would be. Xi Mo usually couldn’t be bothered to talk, but now, to build rapport with the crowd and divert attention from Yan Tinghuan, she effortlessly slipped into acting mode. Surprisingly, she managed to charm everyone at the table with her eloquence.

Deceived by her performance, they were utterly taken in, increasingly convinced that Xi Mo was warm-tempered and witty. Whether she had connections or not—who at the table hadn’t relied on a few connections themselves?—as long as she was pleasant to be around, the conversation naturally flowed smoothly.

Later, whether it was Lin Qitang at another table letting something slip or others recognizing Ruan Yesheng’s face and recalling that she had indeed acted years ago—though now she was washed up—and that she was Xi Mo’s former classmate from the same academy, the gossip spread like wildfire.

They were college classmates! They’d known each other all along!

The others at the table widened their eyes as if uncovering another juicy piece of gossip, all staring at Xi Mo, their inner thoughts erupting uncontrollably—so she got here by clinging to Xi Mo’s coattails!

Xi Mo: “…”

Now she couldn’t even refute it.

She really had, in a way, clung to her own coattails.

The meal left Xi Mo utterly drained. As soon as it ended, she hurried back to her room to rest. They had an early start the next day, and with her still suffering from heatstroke, she needed sleep before her head exploded.

After socializing with the heavyweight producers and directors, Ruan Yesheng glanced around—Xi Mo was long gone. Lu Qingming reminded her to get some rest, and she nodded. The first thing she did upon returning to her room was call Yan Tinghuan. “You worked hard. Still alive?”

Fortunately, Yan Tinghuan could hold her liquor—at least she hadn’t thrown up. Sipping water in her own room, she groaned lazily, “Not dead yet.”

Her voice was sluggish. “I shouldn’t have told you she had heatstroke. Dragged me into covering for her with the drinks. Next time you’re worried, do it yourself—don’t push it onto me.”

“It wasn’t convenient for me. If I’d actually sat over there, how would people have viewed her later?” Ruan Yesheng chuckled. “Besides, I could tell from her expression she didn’t want me there.”

With the crew just formed, as a washed-up newcomer, drawing too much attention right off the bat wasn’t a good thing. Ruan Yesheng understood this, and Xi Mo knew it even better—which was why Xi Mo had been sweating bullets earlier when Yan Mu made a point of coming over.

Yan Mu’s intentions were good, and it did help to some extent, but it was a double-edged sword. It also made Xi Mo enemies from the get-go—actresses like Liu Yusi and her clique already despised her, their envy and resentment practically oozing out.

“You could tell from her expression she didn’t want you there.” Yan Tinghuan giggled. “But when you were worried she’d drink too much, you made me step in. Why the double standard?”

Ruan Yesheng answered shamelessly, “I was afraid my body would get worse from heatstroke and alcohol—she might ruin it. Tinghuan, get this straight—you were helping me, not her.”

“Right, right, right. You were afraid she’d ruin you.” Yan Tinghuan humored her.

Ruan Yesheng: “…”

What kind of way is that to put it?

Xi Mo thought the two of them were birds of a feather, so these two “raccoons” discussed some matters over the phone. As it was quite late, Ruan Yesheng hung up and went to take a shower. When she came out wrapped in a towel, she walked to the window where the curtains were half-drawn. The darkness outside was softened by streetlights, blending into a hazy glow that seeped into the room.

The area in front of the hotel was quite spacious, and even at this hour, many people were still moving about below. Just as Ruan Yesheng was about to close the curtains and sleep, she caught sight of a shadowy figure standing beneath a large tree in the distance.

The figure was indistinct, untouched by the light.

Amidst the flow of people, only this shadow remained motionless, as if rooted to the spot—a dark mass blending with the tree’s shadow, its form and gender indistinguishable.

Ruan Yesheng stood by the window, squinting slightly.

Soon, the figure walked away.

As if it had never existed at all.