The Paranoid Film Queen Hooked Me, and I Fell in Love. (GL) - Chapter 3

The scorching summer sun baked the trees, flowers, and grass until they wilted under the heat. It was unbearable outside, and Xu Zhiyan had even less desire to step out of the house.

Fortunately, Director Cheng had sent the Symbiosis script via same-city delivery yesterday. She hadn’t had time to read it in detail, so now that she was free, she cut up a plate of chilled watermelon, carried it to her bedroom, and sat down to read.

From the very first lines, the story pulled her back into an era of war and turmoil.

The story was set a hundred years ago, in a time of poverty and strife. Lin Yin, one of the main characters, was a young woman raised in a loving and privileged household. She had three older brothers and doting parents, growing up in a world of luxury, kindness, and justice.

At the start of the story, out of curiosity about her third brother’s beloved, she disguised herself as a man and ventured into a brothel known as the “Golden Den.” There, she met the famous courtesan, Liang Manye.

A sheltered lady untouched by the harshness of the world, and a courtesan who had fallen into the dust of society—two people who were never meant to cross paths, let alone fall in love.

At that time, aside from their vast differences in status and identity, their love was something society would never tolerate.

If the story focused solely on their struggle against the world’s prejudice, it wouldn’t fit Director Cheng’s style.

As the story progressed, Lin Yin became painfully aware of the suffering of the people, the harshness of the world, and the bleakness of the future. Abandoning her privileged life, she joined the military. The delicate hands that once knew nothing but comfort became rough with calluses from holding a gun.

Liang Manye, however, remained in the brothel, either unwilling to become a burden or for reasons unknown.

As time passed, political strife and foreign invasions tore them apart. They could not meet, and only exchanged letters once a month for solace.

In the days they spent apart, Lin Yin’s hardships forged her into someone stronger, while Liang Manye’s suffering deepened her unwavering faith.

When they finally reunited, Lin Yin could no longer understand why Liang Manye insisted on staying in the brothel, and Liang Manye could not reveal the truth amidst the chaos of the times.

Thus came conflict and arguments. The days they spent apart had given them not only growth but also an unbridgeable rift.

In the end, Lin Yin perished in the battle to defend the city, and Liang Manye fell within the red candle-lit silk curtains of the brothel.

As the bl00d-colored sky stretched above them, they gazed at each other from afar, closing their eyes for the final time.

They were never wrong—only their timing was.

Xu Zhiyan remained frozen for a long time after finishing the script.

Each black-and-white word carried sorrow, every sentence bled tragedy. The writing, plain and direct, was drenched in overwhelming grief.

Wiping her tears, she sniffled and closed the script.

She had cried more in the past two days than she had in ages—all thanks to Director Cheng. Staying home had turned into a daily sobfest.

Since she had been cast as Lin Yin, she focused on analyzing her character’s growth as she read.

But she had to admit—the script portrayed all the characters brilliantly. Though the story was told primarily from Lin Yin’s perspective, Liang Manye’s presence wove through every moment, making their fates inseparable. Their love and hate were carved into each other’s very existence.

Compared to Lin Yin’s outwardly expressive emotions, Liang Manye’s character was much harder to portray.

Beneath her alluring charm lay an abyss of despair and pain. Hidden beneath her composed and graceful demeanor was a sea of suppressed love and resentment. Every glance of her eyes sent ripples through a quiet sorrow.

Behind her seductive exterior was concealed love, hatred, and an unshakable devotion.

Xu Zhiyan thought about it carefully. Other than Shen Buhui, she couldn’t imagine anyone else who could play this role.

The thought of working alongside such an accomplished actress made her anxious. She didn’t want to embarrass herself.

Determined, she reopened the script and began meticulously taking notes.

While she was reading, Shen Buhui also received the script from Director Cheng.

Her slender fingers flipped through the pages, her finely arched brows slightly furrowing as she absorbed the historical setting.

An hour later, Zhao Yue estimated that she had finished reading and called her.

“Did you finish the script?” she asked seriously.

“Mm.” Shen Buhui closed the script and took a sip of tea to soothe her throat.

Zhao Yue sounded concerned. “This is a dual female lead film. I just saw the script, and the other lead has a lot of screen time.”

When Shen Buhui first agreed to the project, Zhao Yue hadn’t paid much attention. But after reading the script, she realized that the other lead had just as many scenes as Shen Buhui, which made her uneasy.

Shen Buhui remained indifferent. “That’s why she’s the other lead.”

If the main character’s scenes weren’t important, then whose were? The background extras’?

Zhao Yue: “….”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Zhao Yue said anxiously.

Shen Buhui pressed her fingers to her temple and sighed. “Stop worrying about meaningless things. If I don’t care, why should you?”

Zhao Yue thought to herself, Of course, you don’t care. Your entire life revolves around acting and managing your Weibo account. But she couldn’t afford to be as indifferent. This was about reputation and money.

Shen Buhui continued, “Besides, Director Cheng has a clear sense of judgment. He has always been responsible for his films, and you know that.”

She understood her manager’s concerns. Zhao Yue often fussed over trivial matters, but aside from that, she was reliable. Most importantly, no matter how much Zhao Yue worried, the final decision was always in Shen Buhui’s hands.

Though a little impatient, she still took the time to explain.

She didn’t care how much screen time her co-star had—as long as they didn’t stir up drama, it didn’t matter.

Zhao Yue thought it over and eventually let it go.

It’s just a newcomer. What’s the worst they could do?

She wasn’t entirely wrong to think this way. After all, Shen Buhui wasn’t just beautiful—she was immensely talented. Over the years, she had dealt with countless co-stars trying to leech off her fame, both openly and secretly.

One particularly bold actor had taken things too far, spreading rumors through press releases that made it seem like they were about to get married. Shen Buhui had been forced to put her foot down, issuing a severe warning. Only then did things finally settle.

Now that she had come to terms with it, Zhao Yue felt much better. Before hanging up, she reminded her, “Director Cheng thinks it would be good for you two to meet before filming starts. Since you’ll have a lot of scenes together, he’s arranging a small gathering for the main cast.”

With that, she ended the call.

But after putting down her phone, she suddenly had a nagging feeling—had she forgotten to mention something important?

Shen Buhui, however, didn’t dwell on it. She wasn’t particularly curious about who her co-star was.

After putting down the script, she logged into her Weibo alt account. Seeing the latest updates on her feed, her expression softened slightly.

She then got up and prepared a plate of chilled watermelon, placing it beside her.

A week later, when Xu Zhiyan received the notification from Director Cheng about the cast meeting, a wave of nervousness washed over her.

Over the past week, she had been immersing herself in the script. Beyond analyzing the character’s growth, she had also watched all of Director Cheng’s past works. Since she was eager to understand her future co-star, she also went through all of Shen Buhui’s films.

The more she watched, the greater the pressure she felt.

In just one week, she hadn’t exercised at all, yet she had somehow lost three to four pounds.

Licking her lips, she stared at her wardrobe filled with youthful, somewhat childish outfits.

Would these make me look too immature? After all, this was a formal work-related meeting.

Lin Ya poked her forehead, immediately guessing what she was worried about.

“Are you stressing over what to wear tomorrow?”

Xu Zhiyan nodded repeatedly.

Lin Ya waved a hand dismissively. “What’s there to worry about? If nothing fits, we’ll just buy something new!”

Saying that, she grabbed Xu Zhiyan’s arm and pulled her toward the door. “Come on, I’ll go with you and help you pick something.”

On the way, she joked, “My little girl is growing up so fast. You’re not even an adult yet, and you’re already starting work.”

Xu Zhiyan grinned, her eyes curving into crescents. “I’m just earning money to support my family!”

“Support your family? I’d be happy if you could just support yourself.” Lin Ya pretended to tease her, but the pride in her expression was unmistakable.

At the mall, while taking the escalator up, Xu Zhiyan’s gaze was suddenly drawn to a massive vertical movie poster hanging in the atrium.

She had never paid much attention to these before, but perhaps because this face and name had been appearing frequently in her life lately, her eyes instinctively locked onto it.

Lin Ya followed her gaze. The woman in the poster was radiant and dazzling.

“Isn’t she the other lead in your film?” she asked.

Xu Zhiyan looked away and nodded.

Shen Buhui wasn’t just a rising star in the entertainment industry—back when she was still a student at Chuan City Film Academy, Lin Ya had actually taught her for a time in the elective Introduction to the Arts course.

It’s often said that casual viewers enjoy the spectacle, while professionals see the craft. Having witnessed Shen Buhui’s acting firsthand, Lin Ya could confidently say she was born for the screen.

Not to mention, this incredibly talented person was also extraordinarily hardworking.

Lin Ya reminded her, “This is a rare opportunity for you. Facing such an outstanding senior, you must make the most of it and learn everything you can.”

Her daughter had an interest in acting, but this wasn’t a path one could walk easily. Lin Ya only hoped that Xu Zhiyan would remain humble, focused, and willing to learn—only then could she go far.

Xu Zhiyan felt a warmth in her heart. She smiled and obediently replied, “I will.”

Even without her mother’s reminder, she had already made up her mind to do so.

But… what kind of person was Shen Buhui?

Xu Zhiyan linked arms with Lin Ya, absentmindedly pondering.

Aside from knowing that she had a reputation for being “indifferent to love,” Xu Zhiyan realized she actually knew very little about her.

A sense of unease crept up on her. She resolved to dig up old interviews and watch past talk shows as soon as she got home.

And so, deep into the night, she was still clutching her iPad, frantically catching up on everything she could find.

So… what was Shen Buhui really like?

After watching countless videos, Xu Zhiyan felt confident in her answer—she was a very gentle person!

Cough. Maybe it was too broad of a description, but that was the common thread in all the interviews.

Besides, Shen Buhui hardly ever appeared on variety shows. Outside of film promotions and mandatory press interviews, she was practically invisible to the public!

A gentle person… that must mean she had a good temper, right?