Too bad even his parents had failed to sway her.
Qingli had made her stance crystal clear:
She was done with the Su family—and with Su Yan.
He hadn’t known anything about it beforehand—his team had gone behind his back.
After Su Zhen explained the situation, the young man’s face flushed red with anger, and he snapped in a low growl, “What the hell were you doing? Who told you to go and apologize to her? Now look what happened—she turned it around and threatened us instead! I’ve told you already, I didn’t break up with Zhao Muyun because of her. I ended things because I realized we weren’t compatible—and it was Zhao Muyun who brought it up first!”
If their little stunt had worked, maybe it’d be one thing.
But it hadn’t. And Su Yan was far too proud. To him, having his parents go behind his back to beg for forgiveness felt like being stripped bare and humiliated in front of Su Qingli. Worst of all, she didn’t even care about their apology. Not even his parents fazed her.
That made him feel humiliated.
Su Yan’s voice was loud enough to carry over the phone. On the other end, Su Zhen and Xu Fang sounded hurt: “We only did it for your good! Look at you now—your endorsements are gone, and more than half your gigs dried up. Your assistant says you’re holed up at home all day, too scared to go out. We were worried you’d get depressed!”
“You still don’t get to do that!” Su Yan barked.
He snatched the phone and hung up. Then he glared darkly at his assistant. “Don’t ever decide on my back again.”
The assistant quickly nodded. “Understood. I won’t. I swear!”
Only then did Su Yan feel somewhat relieved, but the calm was fleeting. Emptiness crept in right after, dragging a wave of anxiety with it.
Being out of work made him uneasy. But even when he did work, the way people looked at him—the judgment in their eyes—made his skin crawl.
Just then, a call came in.
It was from He Tianzhuo.
Su Yan’s heart skipped. He Tianzhuo was already divorced from Su Qingli. Technically, he wasn’t Su Yan’s uncle anymore. The two of them hadn’t been in contact recently, so why was he calling now?
He picked up. The first thing He Tianzhuo said was, “I’m putting together a new film. I want you for the male lead. Zhao Muyun will play the female lead. Interested?”
Truthfully? Not really.
Exes working together—awkward as hell. Especially if the breakup hadn’t been clean. He and Zhao Muyun hadn’t ended things on bad terms, but he still remembered the look in her eyes when she walked away: nothing but disappointment. Just thinking about it made his face burn.
Still…
Su Qingli wouldn’t take him back. If he wanted to stage a comeback, teaming up with He Tianzhuo might be his best shot. He’d already heard the director was planning a crime thriller—He Tianzhuo’s specialty. A flop seemed unlikely, and if it hit, they could both clean up their reputations.
The fact that He Tianzhuo came to him meant he saw it that way too.
But… hadn’t casting already started a couple of weeks ago? And the male lead still hadn’t been finalized?
Su Yan hesitated, but reminded himself that contracts were involved—He Tianzhuo wouldn’t string him along. After a moment’s thought, he agreed. “I’m in.”
Once the deal was set, He Tianzhuo shared the news with the rest of the core production team:
[Male lead confirmed: Su Yan. He fits the refined, cold-hearted noble persona perfectly. Styling team, you can get started.]
[No problem!]
[Got it!]
Only Zhao Muyun hesitated. Then she messaged He Tianzhuo privately:
[Didn’t you say you were trying to get Shen Shen as the male lead? How did it end up being Su Yan?]
She was disappointed. She’d loved Shen Shen’s movies in her past life, and his performances had been her blueprint while studying acting. When she heard he might join the cast, she was so excited she couldn’t sleep all night.
Now it was Su Yan again?
He Tianzhuo replied with a tinge of awkwardness:
[Scheduling conflict. He couldn’t make it.]
A classic excuse. Most likely, Shen Shen turned the role down.
Zhao Muyun closed the chat, deflated. Oh well. She only got the role because of her aunt, Zhao Rongrong. She wasn’t in a position to complain.
Thankfully, it was a crime drama. The lead roles didn’t require over-the-top emotional acting, and Zhao Muyun had some talent in that area. Although Royal Authority hadn’t been a massive hit, it hadn’t flopped either. Plus, Su Yan’s public acknowledgment of their past relationship had helped drum up buzz—none of the investors had much to say about her casting.
Taking a deep breath, Zhao Muyun pulled out the script again to study.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed.
A Weibo push notification:
[Official announcement: Shen Shen confirmed as male lead in “Grown-Up Affairs.”]
Grown-Up Affairs?
Her heart skipped a beat. Wasn’t that the title of Su Qingli’s upcoming film?
Right at that moment, someone in the production group chat posted:
[Holy crap—didn’t Director He say Shen Shen had no availability? Turns out he’s doing Director Su’s film instead. Damn… guess even an A-list actor prefers her over him.]
The message disappeared almost instantly.
Others in the group chimed in:
[…]
[Are you nuts?!]
By the time Zhao Muyun tapped back into the chat, the message had already been retracted.
She stared at the screen. The message right above had been from He Tianzhuo, assigning someone a new task.
She couldn’t help but cringe for him.
Secondhand embarrassment hit hard.