The Breakup Didn’t Stop Me From Owning the World - Chapter 15

Fortunately, Lan Muyu had the habit of keeping memos. The memos recorded her upcoming work, which brought her considerable convenience in her rebirth.

Today’s outing was for an audition that had been scheduled long ago—the film crew of “Limited Sale.” In her previous life, she had missed this audition due to signing with Tianhao, which explicitly ordered her to bring other actors into commercial dramas, causing her acting path to become increasingly narrow.

After the press conference, she had consulted Ling Shan’s opinion. Fortunately, Ling Shan did not object after reading the script.

Although she had won the Best Newcomer Award for her role in Director Qi’s film “Whispering Love in My Heart,” it was a typical award-seeking production with a limited audience. As a result, the film’s success did not bring much additional benefit to the actors.

As a newcomer, she needed to build her popularity.

The reason she remembered this film crew so clearly was because of its director, Gu Yan. Gu Yan was a young director skilled at producing high-quality films on a low budget.

In her previous life, “Limited Sale” had not been released in theaters but was instead distributed online. It recouped its costs on the first day, and numerous advertisers later sought to insert commercials, making it a highly profitable venture.

Gu Yan’s filming style and angles were innovative. After gaining full fame in her past life, he even won the Best Director Award. Back then, Fu Yao had wanted to star in his film but was eliminated during the audition, leading Fu Yao to frequently mention Gu Yan and his low-budget web dramas in front of Lan Muyu.

Given a second chance, Lan Muyu naturally wouldn’t miss this audition again.

Lan Muyu gave the address to the driver, estimating a half-hour drive. She closed her eyes to rest, but the driver, remembering Li Ruonan’s instructions, glanced in the rearview mirror and spoke up, “Miss Lan, I was originally from a security company before Ms. Li hired me. I’m quite skilled in combat.”

Lan Muyu lifted her eyelids to assess the driver—lean and toned with a thin layer of muscle. It made sense that Li Ruonan wouldn’t hire just anyone. She replied, “Hmm.”

At a red light, the driver parked smoothly and began promoting himself: “I’m really good at fighting—no one in the security company could beat me. I can also handle errands if needed. I can multitask.”

Lan Muyu’s drowsiness faded at his words. Puzzled, she asked, “So?”

The driver grinned. “So, how about hiring me as your bodyguard?”

Bodyguard? Lan Muyu finally took Xiao Zhang seriously. In her past life, she had been mobbed by fans and had indeed considered hiring a bodyguard. Since Li Ruonan had chosen him, he probably wasn’t bad.

But was this person sent by Li Ruonan…?

Lan Muyu asked, “Is this your idea or Li Ruonan’s?”

The driver scratched his head. “Ms. Li told me to follow you. If you don’t take me in, I’ll lose my job.”

Suspicious, Lan Muyu probed, “So Li Ruonan asked you to follow me every day to keep an eye on me, didn’t she?”

The light turned green, and the car started moving again. “I have a sick mother at home and two little ones to feed—”

Lan Muyu cut him off. “You’re only a few years older than me. Are you married?”

The driver cleared his throat and corrected himself, “It’s my nephew. Anyway, my whole family depends on me for support. If you don’t keep me, I’ll lose my job.”

Lan Muyu hadn’t expected Li Ruonan to pull such a move. The joy she initially felt from freeloading off Li Ruonan instantly diminished a little. She inquired, “Then who pays your salary?”

“Miss Li… Miss Li didn’t say,” the driver replied, quickly correcting himself as he recalled Li Ruonan’s instructions.

Lan Muyu hinted, “Since I’m the one paying you now, you’re my person. You should listen to me, understand?”

“Understood, understood,” Xiao Zhang responded promptly. “From now on, you can just call me Xiao Zhang, Miss Lan.”

At the next traffic light, Lan Muyu didn’t notice Xiao Zhang quietly taking out his phone to send a message to Li Ruonan: Miss Li, Miss Lan has agreed to let me stay.

The reply came quickly: The film crew is a mixed crowd. Take good care of her.

The audition was arranged in an old sports stadium. Xiao Zhang followed Lan Muyu out of the car, diligently carrying out his duties. Despite the shabby appearance of the audition site, there was already a long line of people waiting—mostly students from performing arts schools.

As Lan Muyu approached, a young girl came forward. “Hello, are you here to audition for ‘Limited Sale’?”

Lan Muyu removed her mask. “I’m Lan Muyu, here to audition for the female supporting role. When will it be my turn?”

“Well, well, Lan Muyu, you’re actually here to audition?” A sultry voice rang out as Han Feifei emerged from the audition area. “What a coincidence, isn’t it?”

Han Feifei’s actions quickly drew the attention of the other auditionees. Subtle glances flickered between the two of them, and whispers began to spread. Given that these two were now crossing paths in the same production, it was no surprise that everyone was curious.

The reason was simple. The female lead of this film had been cast early on—none other than Han Feifei, who had previously acted alongside Lan Muyu. Their history ran deep.

In “Whispering Love in My Heart,” Han Feifei had been overshadowed by Lan Muyu in terms of billing, and subsequent awards had eluded her. If it were just professional rivalry, that would be one thing. But just a few days ago, Han Feifei had publicly mocked Lan Muyu on Weibo, claiming she had a sugar daddy and even posting a video of Lan Muyu in a secret rendezvous.

Later, however, it was revealed that Lan Muyu was actually in a relationship with Fu Yao. And when Fu Yao’s subsequent actions stole the spotlight, the attacks against Han Feifei died down.

No one remembered Han Feifei’s accusations, but would she let Lan Muyu off so easily? After all, by making those statements on Weibo, she had already brought their feud into the open. Now that she had another chance to strike at Lan Muyu, she wasn’t about to let it slip by.

Yet Lan Muyu merely gave Han Feifei a cool glance before attempting to walk past her.

Unexpectedly, as they brushed past each other, Han Feifei reached out and grabbed Lan Muyu’s arm. “After all this time knowing each other, you’re not even going to greet me?”

Lan Muyu frowned. “Let go.”

Unfazed, Han Feifei smiled at the onlookers. “Lan Muyu, you’re not still mad at me, are you? I didn’t know you and Fu Yao had already broken up back then. But with your looks, finding another sugar daddy should be a piece of cake, right? Don’t lose heart!”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you signed with Star Glory? Seems like they’re not treating you too well either. So I guess having a good backer is better than a talent agency.”

Lan Muyu countered, “So being here means you’ve found yourself a good backer?”

“Don’t slander me.”

“Oh, I was just following your logic,” Lan Muyu said indifferently.

Han Feifei curled her lips into a smug smile. “Look at you. When you had Fu Yao backing you, lead roles came easy. Now without her, you have to audition like everyone else. But what can I do? The director already chose me for the female lead. You won’t hold it against me, will you?”

As Han Feifei spoke, the murmurs about Lan Muyu grew louder around them.

Now Lan Muyu finally understood—Han Feifei was trying to attribute all her past achievements to having a “sugar daddy.” By securing the lead role first, Han Feifei was implying her acting skills surpassed Lan Muyu’s.

Everyone knew Lan Muyu no longer had any ties to Fu Yao. Besides, she hadn’t gotten this audition through Fu Yao’s connections. In fact, even if Fu Yao threw money at it, she wouldn’t have been able to land a role in Director Qi’s film.

Having grasped the situation, Lan Muyu saw no point in arguing. Her expression remained cool as she said, “We’re not close. Move aside.”

With that, she shook off Han Feifei’s hand and followed the staff inside.

Lan Muyu’s dismissive attitude stung Han Feifei like a punch absorbed by cotton—her dramatic performance had been nothing but clowning in Lan Muyu’s eyes. Glancing around at the onlookers, Han Feifei forced a smile. “See? She’s just embarrassed.”

Upon entering the audition room, Lan Muyu saw Gu Yan seated at the center. The nearly thirty-year-old man in casual wear was flipping through a script, absently tapping his pen. Han Feifei soon followed and took the outermost seat.

The audition scene was impromptu—no scripts had been distributed beforehand. Lan Muyu’s assigned segment depicted the female lead’s depression after being abandoned by a gold-digging man, requiring skilled pantomime acting.

Gu Yan had seen Lan Muyu’s films and initially held a favorable impression. However, since Han Feifei joined, she’d repeatedly hinted at Lan Muyu’s unprofessionalism on set—frequent retakes that tried the director’s patience—tainting Gu Yan’s perception.

His tone turned frosty. “Begin whenever you’re ready.”

Having portrayed diverse roles in her past life, Lan Muyu’s fundamentals were solid. After skimming the scene, she closed her eyes briefly. When they reopened, her gaze toward Gu Yan was hollow yet tinged with girlish shyness: “Brother… is that you? Have you come back for me?”

She lunged forward, grasping at air. As realization dawned, her eyes reddened slightly. Muttering “It’s fake… all fake,” she visibly struggled to contain her emotions. Tears welled but never fell.

“Cut!” Gu Yan halted the performance, excitement bleeding into his voice. “Good—no, brilliant! Could you… try another segment?”

Lan Muyu quickly detached herself from the character and reverted to the polite actress she had been at the beginning, offering Gu Yan a faint smile. “Of course.”

Her ability to switch states so swiftly impressed Gu Yan. After all, actors often struggled to separate themselves from roles they deeply empathized with. Yet Lan Muyu was the rare type who could immerse herself instantly and emerge just as quickly—a born performer.

A new script excerpt was handed to Lan Muyu, but this time, it wasn’t for the female supporting role—it was for the female lead. The protagonist, as the best friend of the second lead, confronts the scumbag who broke her friend’s heart, only to discover he actually has feelings for her.

Lan Muyu’s aura instantly intensified. “Huo Xiao, how dare you say such things? Let me make this clear—I will never forgive you.”

“Have you no shame? Do you even understand what love is? How could you do this to her?”

She took a few steps before turning back, her lips curling into a mocking smile as she delivered a cold ultimatum: “Starting today, the Lin family will cease all collaborations with the Huo family.”

When she finished, the room fell silent—until Gu Yan broke it with applause. “Excellent. Truly excellent.”

Lan Muyu bowed slightly. “Thank you, Director.”

“Wait for our notification.”

As Lan Muyu left, Gu Yan’s gaze lingered, his head shaking slightly with unconcealed regret.

If not for his production’s tight budget, he would never have agreed to let Han Feifei parachute into the role. Compared to Lan Muyu, Han Feifei’s acting was unwatchable, not to mention her arrogant behavior on set these past few days, which had given Gu Yan endless headaches.

Lan Muyu was stunning, exceptionally talented, and had just won an award—she was the perfect female lead for his new project. But according to Han Feifei’s earlier remarks, Lan Muyu had just lost her patron. In the entertainment industry, an artist without backing would find survival nearly impossible.

Since she couldn’t be his lead, he’d have to quietly expand her role later to enhance the film’s brilliance.

The director’s regret didn’t escape Han Feifei’s notice, and it made her clench her fists in fury. Why did Lan Muyu always overshadow her?

Last time, with Director Qi’s film, she couldn’t pull strings and had no choice but to swallow her defeat. This time, she’d sacrificed herself, accompanying a bloated investor to secure the female lead role.

She had thought that in this small production, she’d be the sole star, basking in all the spotlight—only for Lan Muyu to swoop in halfway.

As Han Feifei stepped out of the audition venue, someone stopped her. Eyeing the woman warily, she asked, “Who are you?”

“Hello, you’re Han Feifei, right? I’m Jiang Qianrou. Would you like to talk about Lan Muyu?”

Meanwhile, Lan Muyu was in high spirits after receiving Gu Yan’s praise—this was her first acting attempt since her rebirth, and it had given her a surge of motivation.

By the time Li Ruonan returned home, Lan Muyu had already covered the entire dining table with dishes.

Humming a tune, Lan Muyu beckoned her over. “You’re finally back. I was worried the food would get cold.”

“You made this?” Li Ruonan stared at the spread in disbelief—it looked nothing like the work of someone who couldn’t even fry an egg properly.

“Mm.” Lan Muyu set out the bowls and chopsticks, smiling under Li Ruonan’s questioning gaze. “I ordered takeout.”

Li Ruonan picked up her chopsticks and took a few bites before recalling Xiao Zhang’s report. She couldn’t help but ask, “How did your audition go today?”

Immerse in her own happiness, Lan Muyu didn’t question how Li Ruonan knew about her whereabouts. She lifted her chin with a hint of pride in her eyes. “The female supporting role—it’s pretty much confirmed.”

Li Ruonan’s chopsticks paused mid-air. “Supporting role? Not the lead?”

“What lead role?”

Frowning, Li Ruonan wondered which part of the plan had gone wrong.

Seeing this, Lan Muyu explained, “Listen, the crew might not seem like much now, but the film will do well when it’s released.”

“Didn’t Ling Shan inform you? She was supposed to turn down those random projects you found. Better scripts will come your way in a few days—just wait a little longer.”

“No, I want this one.” Lan Muyu immediately objected upon hearing Li Ruonan’s words. “The script is good, the director and team are solid—it won’t disappoint.”

Li Ruonan studied Lan Muyu for a few seconds, noting the genuine determination on her face. “You really won’t consider anything else?”

Lan Muyu shook her head. “Just this one.”

With a sigh, Li Ruonan knew she couldn’t persuade her and quietly resumed eating.

After dinner, seeing Lan Muyu’s cheerful demeanor, Li Ruonan finally relented. She called Ling Shan to demand, I told you to give Lan Muyu that script—why didn’t she get it? Did you know she joined another crew?

President Li, she requested it herself. Since I started managing her, she’s never asked for anything. I had no reason to stop her from auditioning. Besides, I read that script—it’s fresh and engaging.

After a brief pause, Li Ruonan replied, Then go ask the director if they still need investors.