In the room, only Zhao Rongrong could see how Zhao Muyun’s expression darkened visibly at those words. But her mouth was still curled in a polite smile, and her voice stayed light. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s not a total loss—I’ll still get a breach fee, right?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get it,” Su Yan replied quickly.
Once the call ended, Zhao Muyun’s face finally dropped all pretense. The gloom in her expression was no longer hidden.
As someone who had lived a second life, she wasn’t in it for a few hundred thousand yuan in penalties.
She had worked hard to audition for this role, gone to great lengths to get the original female lead replaced—all so she could use this drama as a springboard to the top.
In her last life, she had seen how wildly successful this show became. It wasn’t just a hit—it was a phenomenon. No other series came close for years afterward. And because it was a female-centric story, the lead actress went from a little-known C-lister to one of the hottest stars of the year—and stayed on top.
By the time Zhao Muyun died in her past life, that actress had already made it in film, standing firm on the big screen.
Was this fate?
Was she destined to never benefit from this drama?
Zhao Muyun gritted her teeth in frustration. Even He Tianzhuo stepping down as director hadn’t changed Su Qingli’s mind—that alone showed how firm her stance was. Zhao clutched at her hair in exasperation.
Zhao Rongrong watched in silence, not daring to make a sound.
She was terrified of her niece. Though seven years younger, Zhao Muyun had always seemed far more mature and sharp-edged—intimidating, even.
After a moment of silent rage, Zhao Muyun composed herself, leaned back on the couch, and checked her phone—only to notice several people had left the production group chat.
She counted carefully.
It looked like the entire directing team had quit.
Her eyes lit up, and she quickly messaged Su Yan to confirm.
He responded immediately:
[My uncle got pissed at my aunt and quit. Once he left, of course, his whole team followed.]
Two seconds later, he added, a little gleefully:
[Even if she recasts the leads, she won’t be able to put that crew back together. This show is toast…]
Zhao Muyun’s frown finally lifted. A smile tugged at her lips.
Now she was curious to see what would happen next.
Wasn’t Su Qingli so full of herself just because she was both the screenwriter and the director’s wife?
She had handpicked Zhao Muyun for the lead, and now she thought she could just kick her out like that?
Fine. Let’s see what a mess she ends up making.
Meanwhile, Su Qingli had no idea someone was plotting against her.
She had done a lot that night and was exhausted. After delegating the first round of tasks, she went straight to bed.
A soft mattress, air conditioning… Compared to ancient times, she preferred the modern world!
The next morning, around 8 a.m., she was woken by a call from Ye Qiong, her old friend from the industry.
As soon as she picked up, Ye Qiong shouted, “Holy crap, what’s going on with your set?! The director, production staff, and even both leads have quit—and they’re blaming you!”
Qingli didn’t reply right away. She took a moment to wake up fully, then said, “Hmm? It’s not blaming, really—it is my fault. I didn’t want Zhao Muyun playing the lead in the drama I wrote. Su Yan and He Tianzhuo weren’t happy about that, so they quit to support her.”
Ye Qiong immediately fell silent, then asked with a furrowed brow, “What’s the story?”
Qingli replied with a faint smile, “Remember that time five years ago when He Tianzhuo got stabbed at that club?”
Of course, Ye Qiong remembered. She was also an actress in the industry and had become good friends with Qingli after working on one of her dramas. They hadn’t collaborated since due to creative differences, but their friendship stayed strong. She recalled the scandal—it had caused quite a stir. She even called Qingli back then to ask if He Tianzhuo had cheated.
Qingli had denied it, and that was that.
Now Qingli said slowly, “The woman sitting on He Tianzhuo’s lap that night—her name was Zhao Rongrong. She’s Zhao Muyun’s aunt. And right now, she’s on set, supposedly ‘taking care’ of her niece. I happened to see her.”
“F***!” Ye Qiong exploded with righteous fury. “Don’t tell me He Tianzhuo’s raising hell over that woman? That’s ridiculous!”
After venting, she calmed herself and said, “You’re really in a tough spot now. This whole thing’s already trending on Weibo—it’s the number one hot search. Go look. I’ll lend you my team, and we can figure out how to handle this.”
She’d seen plenty of drama in the entertainment industry, but Qingli was different—she worried about her.
Qingli chuckled lightly. She didn’t turn down Ye Qiong’s offer, and after hanging up, she opened Weibo.
Sure enough, the number one trending topic was:
#ScreenwriterLiuliBullyingOnSet
“Bullying,” huh? What a flattering choice of words.
Qingli found it all quite funny. She was just about to click in when she noticed the third trending tag:
#NingXiLosesHisShoeAtTheAirport
Ning Xi?
The name rang a bell.
Not long ago—at least from her perspective—she had used him to get back at He Tianzhuo. Though “not long ago” was relative, thanks to the mistake of the Heavenly Dao, five years had passed in this world.
Curious, she clicked.
A video popped up of a tall, slender young man in a white shirt sprinting through the airport. A broadcast echoed in the background:
“Passenger Ning Xi, flying SG1728 to City A, please proceed to gate…”
Laughter filled the terminal.
The fan filming giggled the loudest: “Ning Xi! I told you not to play games! Look what happened—you got called out again!”
As she finished speaking, Ning Xi tripped mid-sprint, and one of his white sneakers flew a solid two meters away.
The scene froze. The young man stood there, one-footed and stunned, like someone had hit pause on him.
Then the crowd burst out laughing. A fan helped retrieve the shoe.
Wearing a face mask, Ning Xi bowed in thanks, slipped the shoe back on, and dashed off, now covering his face in embarrassment.
Qingli couldn’t help but laugh too.
As the video ended, she exited the app, a sudden idea flashing through her mind.
That level of goofy?
He’d be perfect for the male lead in Feng Sha.
Looks like early birds do get the worm!
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152