Chapter 107: A Journey Alone

Who would have thought the male lead would witness her eating with another man and grow jealous? Thus, the two leads had their first major quarrel, the plot taking a rather melodramatic turn. The male lead refused to listen to the heroine’s explanation, stubbornly believing she was interested in Lin Yu. Meanwhile, the heroine insisted that Lin Yu was simply her childhood friend, claiming their bond was as innocent as two peas in a pod. Their disagreement left both feeling deeply unsettled.

But that’s how television dramas are these days. Their audience is typically female college students, and the more outrageous and unconventional the storyline, the more it wins their hearts.

During the second scene, for some reason, things were not as smooth as the first round. Wu De furrowed his brow as he watched, his expression growing worse with each take. Multiple NGs left him losing patience. Fortunately, Lin Yu played a patient lying unconscious in bed—no lines, no unnecessary movements—so even if there were problems, none could be traced back to him.

The heroine, Liang Shiyi, was considered a young starlet, her acting skills quite commendable. Yet something was affecting her performance. When she was supposed to gaze at the male lead, Qiao Song, with deep affection and explain herself, her eyes kept drifting to the side.

Following her gaze, Lin Yu spotted Li Shiche standing behind the camera, his expression dark and brooding.

Was it really necessary to be so jealous over a mere scene?

The two leads’ scenes took five or six takes, with repeated NGs. Liang Shiyi just couldn’t get into character. After stepping off the stage, she could only apologize to the director, cast, and crew.

It was only after the sixth NG that Wu De noticed the issue Lin Yu had discovered. The culprit was Li Shiche. Even if Wu De had objections, he could only gently remind him, “Mr. Li, you’ve worked hard all morning. Why don’t you go to the lounge and have some tea?”

Li Shiche merely glanced at him and ignored the suggestion.

Next came the scene where Liang Shiyi learned Lin Yu’s injuries were caused by Li Shiche. Angered, she went to confront him. Unexpectedly, during their confrontation, Liang Shiyi’s aura was completely overpowered by Li Shiche. She struggled to display any anger, and what should have been an interrogation almost turned into Li Shiche’s main stage. Every movement, every smile, every frown—he became the focal point of the camera.

At three in the afternoon, Lin Yu’s scenes wrapped up. At Su Xiaolin’s insistence, he returned to the hotel to rest. Aside from filming, he had helped manage some minor matters on set and was truly exhausted. After washing up, he went straight to bed. Su Xiaolin had wanted to discuss the upcoming filming plans, but when her message went unanswered, she decided not to disturb him.

On Ji Ya’s side, she had just finished negotiating with the old shareholders. She was tired of dealing with those sly old foxes. Earlier, they’d demanded more shares and dividends, nearly turning the company upside down. Suddenly, they were all smiles, inviting her to dinner, never mentioning an apology, yet every action seemed tinged with remorse.

Unable to reach Lin Yu by phone, Ji Ya boldly scheduled a private jet for half an hour later, determined to visit the set and see how Lin Yu performed in his first movie.

…

At four in the afternoon, as the sun blazed fiercely, Lin Yu woke up, gazing out at the azure sky and the sun radiating an unbearable heat. He really didn’t want to step outside and endure the scorching punishment. Adjusting the air conditioner to a comfortable twenty-six degrees, he settled onto the soft, cozy sofa to enjoy a brief, leisurely afternoon. A short video pushed to his feed caught his eye.

A nearby event, thirty kilometers from the hotel, was being advertised—a music festival at Gongsha Beach at nine that night.

Hmm… Thirty kilometers is actually pretty close.

Despite his grumbling, Lin Yu rubbed his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how tiring it was to help out on set this morning, but now, with some downtime, his bones felt like they were about to collapse. He quickly found a nearby spa to relax.

A recent graduate’s body was certainly not as robust as a seasoned worker’s. Fortunately, Lin Yu kept up daily aerobic exercise, morning runs, and Tai Chi. After a massage, he felt much better.

“You look just like a celebrity!” the receptionist said sweetly as he paid.

Lin Yu touched his mask—thankfully his disguise was intact and nothing seemed amiss. He paid, grabbed his prepared luggage, hailed a taxi, and headed toward the beach.

Since becoming an artist, he had worked tirelessly for over a month, his schedule packed—either shooting variety shows or rushing to film sets, with barely any time to rest.

An artist’s life is still a life. He had to manage his work and rest sensibly; otherwise, he’d collapse at his post sooner or later.

Just as he was about to get in the car, someone greeted him. Despite his clever disguise, he was recognized by a crew member. After a brief exchange, Lin Yu’s car arrived, and he quickly got in and left.

If he delayed any longer, someone might really recognize him, and then he’d never make it out. He’d be stuck signing autographs until his hand cramped. The previous romance reality show had brought him a lot of popularity, and with his height of one meter eighty-five, it was hard not to stand out.

Fortunately, Lin Yu made a quick escape. Once in the car, he donned his headphones and avoided chatting with the driver, eager to reach the beach as soon as possible.

The driver was a bit suspicious—why did this young man immediately put on a hat and mask upon getting in, dressed all in black? Was he part of some secret organization? Fortunately, Lin Yu kept quiet, and the driver’s wariness gradually faded.

At six in the evening, Lin Yu arrived at the beach entrance. The show was set to begin at eight, but already a crowd was gathering. Lin Yu chose to avoid the throng and retreated beneath a tree to play on his phone.

The wait was long, and his stomach began to grumble. He wandered nearby in search of food, discovering a small food street. After an hour of browsing and snacking, he noticed it was already half past eight. Most people on the street were heading to the performance, so Lin Yu joined the flow and entered the venue.

Inside, the beach was packed with people. The event’s flyer hung high above a temporary stage, with giant speakers, a vast platform, and an excited crowd buzzing with energy.

Lin Yu couldn’t help but marvel—since starting work in his previous life, he’d never participated in any activities for young people, let alone a large outdoor party like this.

It seemed these outdoor shows were dominated by internet celebrities, the organizers’ guests mostly the familiar faces from short videos. Lin Yu could probably name each one from the stage.

In the future, these people would retire into obscurity, but during their heyday, they’d make fortunes.

Now, the influencer industry was entering its growth phase. Many special effects and quirky videos were exploding online.

The crowd was restless, chatting animatedly, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement.

Lin Yu rarely witnessed such lively scenes firsthand. In his previous life, he was always rushing through the crowds, never able to linger for long.