I'm Interested In Your Friend - Chapter 6
6
In the stairwell.
The dim light cast heavy shadows.
Yu Lili hung her head, dejected.
The sudden ringing of her phone interrupted her gloom.
“Sister Sela…”
Sela’s tone was cold and stern: “Yu Lili, why aren’t you at the shoot?”
“I…”
“No excuses. Get here now.”
As soon as she hung up, Amy sent her a message.
[Lili, I told Sister Sela about what happened this morning. She said not to worry—the magazine can’t interfere with our studio’s work, so just come over and ignore that idiot Manager Wang.]
[No matter what, Sela has your back.]
[Hugs~]
When Yu Lili reached the entrance of the studio, she heard a loud commotion and an angry voice demanding, “What is this?”
She stepped inside.
Sela was pointing at the set and the squealing pig, her face icy with fury.
Everyone’s eyes turned to Su Mianxin, who stammered, “Sister Sela, I called you this morning, and you said… you said you wanted this?”
Sela’s voice was sharp. “Who told you I wanted this?”
It was Yu Lili’s first time seeing Sela lose her temper, and she was a little frightened.
“Can’t you tell the difference between ‘big’ and ‘pig’?”
Sela glared at Su Mianxin before scanning the room. “I genuinely find it ridiculous to see something like this in a fashion magazine. Even if one person misheard, do the rest of you not have brains? Letting her bring this into the studio?”
A quick-witted assistant whispered, “What are you standing around for? Get it out of here!”
Once Sela erupted, even those who had sided with Su Mianxin and Yu Mu that morning immediately changed their tune.
“Ugh, I thought this pairing was weird from the start.”
“I was speechless this morning too.”
“Wow, Lili, I really wanted to stand up for you earlier.”
If that were true, why hadn’t they spoken up then?
Yu Lili, who’d been mentioned, didn’t respond. She forced a stiff smile.
The afternoon shoot went smoothly. Yu Mu, who had likely already heard the news, didn’t ask about the missing pig. Under Sela’s guidance, she completed the shoot without a fuss and even said politely, “Thanks for your hard work, Sister”
After hearing from Amy about the pig incident and Yu Mu’s meddling, Sela had no patience for the troublesome star. She gave a curt nod. “It would’ve been easier if everyone cooperated.”
Yu Mu’s smile froze for a split second when her eyes met Yu Lili’s, who stood beside Sela.
With nothing left to do in the studio, Yu Lili slipped away to the magazine’s rooftop garden—a quiet spot she’d discovered during her last visit, perfect for brainstorming or clearing her mind.
Leaning against the railing, she slowly closed her eyes.
Then, footsteps sounded behind her.
She opened her eyes and turned.
Her pupils dilated slightly at the sight of the newcomer.
Tan Suran stood there calmly. “Am I interrupting?”
“You’re quite self-aware.” Yu Lili replied listlessly, turning back around.
Tan Suran’s voice was composed. “Then you’re free to leave and find somewhere else to be alone.”
Yu Lili didn’t retort. Instead, she turned her back to Tan Suran, resting her chin on her hands as she gazed at the view.
Tan Suran asked, “Weren’t you supposed to be shooting? Slacking off here?”
Yu Lili almost asked how she knew about the shoot but then realized it made sense—Tan Suran would naturally be aware of Yu Mu’s schedule. She pouted. “Getting paid to slack off.”
The two stood in silence for a while.
Maybe it was because Yu Lili desperately needed to vent, or maybe the day’s temperature was just right, or perhaps her emotions had simply built up to this point—
She spoke. “Why is it that those in power always control the narrative, while everyone else just goes along with it?”
Only after the words left her mouth did she remember who was standing behind her.
Tan Suran wasn’t someone she could sit down and chat with.
Feeling foolish, she shook her head and prepared to leave.
But then Tan Suran replied, “It’s not just this industry—society has always been this way. Your confusion stems from privilege. For the first twenty years of your life, you never had to face this.”
Yu Lili sighed. “I don’t like it.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Tan Suran continued, “But you can’t change it. If you want to, you’ll have to become so strong that the world’s rules bend for you.”
Watching the girl deep in thought, Tan Suran gave a slight nod and left, heading straight for the magazine’s general manager’s office.
Manager Wang Yu was lounging in his chair, legs crossed, but he bolted upright at the sight of Tan Suran. “President Tan! What brings you here?”
He hastily offered her tea, grinning obsequiously. “What’s wrong with my secretary? She didn’t even announce you.”
Tan Suran walked to the window without responding.
Wang Yu tried to gauge her mood. “Are you here to inspect the shoot? To see Ms. Yu?”
Tan Suran shot him a cold glance. “Wang Yu, I don’t appreciate this kind of behavior.”
Wang Yu froze, unsure what she meant.
Tan Suran made it clear: “Huan Yu has no connection to Yu Mu.”
Rumors had spread that Yu Mu’s participation was at Tan Suran’s request, but in reality, she hadn’t been involved at all.
Yu Mu’s inclusion was entirely Wang Yu’s doing.
Originally, the cover had been switched from Yu Mu to Song Yu after discussions between the brand and upper management. At the time, no one had informed Wang Yu about Yu Mu’s ties to Tan Suran, so he hadn’t cared.
But at a recent banquet, he’d overheard the rumor and immediately reinstated Yu Mu.
Now, realizing his mistake, Wang Yu broke into a sweat. By doing this, he’d offended Song Yu’s camp—both the brand and its backers.
Wiping his forehead, Wang Yu stammered, “President Tan, my deepest apologies. I acted without proper consideration this time. It won’t happen again.”
Tan Suran glanced at him. “There won’t be a next time.”
“Y-yes, absolutely not.” Wang Yu agreed hastily.
Tan Suran walked out.
Assistant Lin was waiting outside. In front of Wang Yu, Tan Suran ordered, “By the end of the week, I want someone else in this office.”
Wang Yu, who’d followed her out, looked thunderstruck. “President Tan, please—I’ve been—”
Tan Suran cut off his pleas coldly. “Since when do you dictate terms to me? From now on, stay away from any business connected to Huan Yu.”
The words sounded oddly familiar—Wang Yu recalled how he’d condescendingly berated an intern that very morning.
Sometimes, karma arrived faster than expected.
Assistant Lin leaned down to the crumpled Wang Yu. “Though it doesn’t suit your image, I’ll offer some friendly advice: Huan Yu is entering the medical aesthetics industry soon. If you switch careers, steer clear.”
A nearby secretary, thrilled to see the usually overbearing boss get his comeuppance, couldn’t resist asking, “Medical aesthetics?”
Assistant Lin nodded solemnly.
That morning, while passing the break room, they’d overheard employees chatting.
“Hey, Xiaomi, you’ve got acne.”
“No idea why—probably from staying up late.”
“I know a great doctor—skin so firm and bouncy, acne gone.”
“Let me send you his WeChat.”
Assistant Lin, noticing Tan Suran’s slight frown, assumed she was displeased with the idle chatter and moved to intervene.
Tan Suran stopped her with a gesture.
Calmly, she said, “Get that doctor’s contact info.”
Assistant Lin immediately understood—Tan Suran must’ve spotted another business opportunity. “Understood. I’ll research the doctor thoroughly.”
Tan Suran replied, “Give the contact to me.”
Assistant Lin blinked.
Tan Suran added, “I’ll personally oversee this key project.”
When Yu Lili left the rooftop garden, she ran into someone unexpected—Song Yu.
Yu Lili was surprised.
Song Yu was impeccably dressed, wearing full makeup, every strand of hair seemingly dancing in the sunlight.
She raised an eyebrow. “Miss Yu, long time no see.”
Yu Lili nodded.
Song Yu wasn’t one for formalities. “Did you bring your camera?”
“Yes…”
Song Yu smiled, grabbing Yu Lili’s hand. “Then hurry up—Sela’s giving you special treatment.”
“???”
Song Yu pulled Yu Lili back to the studio where Yu Mu had shot earlier. The set was empty now, save for Sela at the computer, likely editing proofs.
Seeing them enter, Sela looked up. “Let’s shoot.”
Yu Lili pointed at herself. “Shoot? Me?”
Sela nodded. “I heard this concept was partly your idea. Find your own angle. Here’s your model.”
Model Song Yu grinned. “I’m very cooperative.”
Yu Lili was initially confused, but once they started shooting, she quickly got into the groove.
Sela watched from the sidelines, offering a few pointers at first before letting Yu Lili take over—directing props, poses, and even boosting the model’s morale.
She looked like a natural.
Song Yu examined the photos on the camera, delighted. “So! Pretty!”
“No flattery—they’re genuinely good. Stick around this industry for ten more years, and you’ll definitely surpass Sela.”
Yu Lili stuck out her tongue. “That’s not my goal.”
Sela nodded. “They are good. I look forward to seeing more.”
“But for now, I can still offer advice. Like in the second shot, you could’ve positioned the model and props…” Sela began critiquing as the memory card uploaded to the computer.
-_-!
Yu Lili listened intently.
The ignored superstar Song Yu crossed her arms, amused, and wandered outside, where she greeted a woman by the studio door. “President Tan, couldn’t resist supervising in person?”
“Just passing by.”
Song Yu flipped her hair. “I always keep my promises—if I said I’d shoot, I’d shoot. But I am curious: the older sister causes trouble, while the best friend hires me to cheer her up?”
Tan Suran replied evenly, “Doing a favor. Thanks.”
Song Yu waved it off. “No need. Compared to a private dinner with the CEO of Fade Greater China, this was just a few photos.”
When Song Yu sauntered back into the studio, Sela had finished reviewing Yu Lili’s photos and added unusually, “People see my glamorous career but not the criticism. Breaking free hurts, but if you endure and push forward, suffering becomes your badge of honor.”
Before Yu Lili could respond, applause rang out. Song Yu clapped as she entered, smiling. “Well said. Rare to see Sela so patient—Lili, you must’ve really impressed her.”
Yu Lili bit her lip. “Thank you, Sister Sela.” She understood—this shoot with Song Yu was Sela’s way of comforting her.
Song Yu leaned in, eyeing the photos on the computer before brightening. Waving her phone, she said, “Lili, add me on WeChat? Send me these. Oh, what’s your Weibo?”
The day had been so eventful that Yu Lili hadn’t checked her messages.
At home, she saw Du Tianyu’s text and remembered Anna’s side account. Checking it, she saw Tan Suran hadn’t contacted her.
But there was a new text from an unknown number.
[Lili, I’m back.]
[They won’t tell me where you are.]
[I want to see you.]
[Is that okay.]
Though the number was unfamiliar, Yu Lili knew.
It was Jing Xiang.
Zhu Jing Xiang.