Chapter 6

As the evening lights flickered to life, the night view of Shanghai was breathtaking. Meng Minghai drove his wife and daughter through the bustling commercial district on their way home.

Once the excitement faded, fatigue took hold. After dinner, Meng Kaiyan retreated to her room to wash up and sleep.

"What’s wrong with Nini?" Meng Minghai asked, surprised. "Was she bullied on set?"

Jian Zhenzhu unpacked their two suitcases. "Nothing like that. The crew we worked with this time was quite good. Your daughter hasn’t had her fill of acting yet; the intensity she built up inside hasn’t been fully released. I expect she’ll need to perform at the theater for a couple of days to get back to normal."

"It seems the role was a good one, then," Meng Minghai noted.

Jian Zhenzhu looked thoughtful. "How should I put it? It was a stark contrast to her usual self. I never knew she liked playing characters like that."

In the first two days of filming, she hadn't quite let go, but as filming progressed, she got carried away and became fully immersed. It was only then that Jian Zhenzhu realized her daughter’s inner world was vastly different from what she had imagined.

Her daughter wasn’t as quiet as she had thought.

But then again, those who walk the path of an actor must possess a certain stubbornness and madness; otherwise, they could never shape a truly great character.

"The child is growing up," Meng Minghai sighed. "She knows how to hide herself now."

Jian Zhenzhu rolled her eyes. "Are you stating the obvious? Anyone who doesn't know how to hide their true self is either a fool or simple-minded—just like you."

"Hey, hey, hey—watch your tone. No personal attacks, and absolutely no bringing up old grievances," Meng Minghai said, before gathering the dishes and fleeing to the kitchen.

Meng Kaiyan slept until she woke up naturally.

The sun was high in the sky, and light flooded the room through the white lace curtains. It was rare for her not to be woken by the brightness. Sleep was the best way to restore her energy, and after twelve hours, the exhaustion that had clung to her had vanished.

Jian Zhenzhu was working at the kitchen bar counter. Seeing her daughter open the door, she said, "Nini’s up. Come eat. We have your favorite pan-fried buns, and I’ve cooked a pot of millet porridge."

Jian had previously worked at an internet company, but she had been laid off during a restructuring in May. Fortunately, she had received a generous severance package. Now, she just took on small freelance jobs online, which was enough to cover their grocery bills.

Meng Kaiyan picked up a pan-fried bun with her chopsticks and dipped it in vinegar. "Mom, don't overwork yourself."

Jian Zhenzhu smiled. "Don't worry. It was more tiring before, but once I finish these few orders on hand, I won't take any more. I’ll go back to work after you finish your college entrance exams."

With Meng Minghai’s salary increased and their daughter earning fees from her roles, the family’s financial situation wasn't tight, so she was now a full-time companion for her daughter's studies.

The weather was glorious today. Looking out from the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sky was a deep, clear blue without a single gray cloud. Jian Zhenzhu couldn't stay indoors; as soon as a neighbor called, she set aside her work to head to the wholesale fruit market. The fruit there was cheap and delicious, and one trip was enough to keep their fridge stocked for half a month.

Meng Kaiyan couldn't go out, so the first thing she did after breakfast was to catch up on her homework—frantically. She was, after all, still a student. Fortunately, her school didn't assign much summer homework, and the only troublesome part was the extracurricular practice requirement.

Meng Kaiyan thought for a moment and decided to write about her acting experience.

Her class was full of high achievers: some had gone to Europe to perform with orchestras, others had joined research teams to explore the Hengduan Mountains, and some had even gone to Africa as volunteers.

Well, everyone’s life was colorful in its own way.

***

The next day, Meng Kaiyan returned to school.

Her desk-mate, Lan Tong, sized her up several times, clicking her tongue in wonder. "Kaiyan, you really didn't go to Korea?"

"No. If I had, I definitely would have invited you." Meng Kaiyan handed her a Midori notebook. "Here, for you."

"An embroidered notebook? Thanks. I have a black one at home," Lan Tong said.

Meng Kaiyan winked at her. "Why don't you open it and see?"

Curious, Lan Tong opened it and saw a signature on the first page. "Whose signature is this messy?"

"Are you not a fan of Kong Lin?" Meng Kaiyan asked, shocked.

Kong Lin was a male actor who had exploded in popularity this June. He had played a minor supporting role in the production. Normally, a trendy male star wouldn't take such a peripheral role, but he had been unlucky enough to sign the contract before he became famous. He had begged and pleaded for the role, and since the director and lead actors were all big names, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and perform.

Meng Kaiyan had happened to have scenes with him, and she could tell he was quite reluctant. However, his attitude was good; other than refusing to cut his hair or wear ugly makeup, he cooperated with everything. He was much better than Liu Lingyun, a junior student who hadn't made his big break yet; Liu was afraid of the heat and refused to wear thick costumes, causing such a fuss with the costume designer that his agent had to fly in from Beijing under the scorching sun to clean up his mess.

"Kong Lin?" Lan Tong stared, eyes wide. "Why is his handwriting so ugly!"

Then, as if realizing it only a second later, she let out a howl, clutched the notebook to her chest, and buried her face in Meng Kaiyan’s shoulder. "Is it really Kong Lin? His autograph?"

Meng Kaiyan really wanted to retort that she couldn't possibly forge a signature that ugly. She secretly decided that her own future signature had to be elegant... or, at the very least, not ugly.

After receiving confirmation, Lan Tong kissed the notebook twice, her smile blooming. "Hey, did Kong Lin come to visit your set? Was he incredibly handsome?"

Meng Kaiyan took out her homework and asked the student in front to pass it to the class representative. "It wasn't a visit; he was filming. He didn't have many scenes, but his look was quite good. He’s very handsome, you can look forward to it."

"He’s so famous, and he still did a cameo?" Lan Tong asked, disbelieving. She pulled out her phone, went to Kong Lin’s Weibo super-topic, and scrolled down until she saw the leaked photos of him going to work.

"Fine," Lan Tong said. "Whatever he acts in, I'll watch. As long as his look is good, I can endure anything." She began typing furiously. Meng Kaiyan caught a glimpse—she was tagging the studio, demanding they secure better treatment for him.

*[If you can't do it, just disband and reorganize. Don't let your trash studio ruin Linlin's future.]*

"..."

"Wait, you aren't even a die-hard fan of his," Meng Kaiyan said, confused. She hadn't even known he was joining the cast; at most, she was just a casual fan.

Lan Tong was still busy typing. "I am now. I’ve decided to invest in him."

"Uh, why?"

"I have his authentic autograph. It makes it easier to build a fan account."

Meng Kaiyan was speechless. After holding it in for a long time, she couldn't help but ask, "If I ever become famous one day, will you become my top fan?"

Lan Tong was surprised, thinking for a moment. "Definitely. Why wouldn't I?" She patted Meng Kaiyan on the shoulder, encouraging her. "Go for it. I'll get familiar with the circle first. Once you blow up, I’ll be your number one fan and create tons of beautiful content for you."

"You're teasing me," Meng Kaiyan huffed. "You’re not being sincere at all."

Lan Tong laughed. "I’m serious!"

***

Meng Kaiyan began to devote herself entirely to her studies.

With the reform of the art college entrance exams, one would fail if they didn't meet the undergraduate cutoff. Fortunately, her grades were good; not only was the undergraduate line stable, but the first-tier university line was also well within reach.

If she worked harder now, her fans would be able to hold their heads high when she later excelled academically.

As for the theater troupe, Meng Kaiyan continued to attend twice a month. One day, she arrived with milk tea and desserts, just in time to catch everyone rehearsing a new play. It was a rare opportunity, so instead of looking for her teacher, Yang Suye, she stayed in the audience and watched with great interest.

"Is it good?" a voice came from behind her.

Meng Kaiyan turned to see Yang Suye and quickly stood up. "It’s good. The plot is very interesting, though it’s not quite coherent yet."

Yang Suye picked up a cup of milk tea, relieved to see it was sugar-free before taking a sip. "It’s just a rough rehearsal. It won't be released until next month."

"How is the filming going?" Yang Suye asked. "Your aunt said you had 18 days of shooting this time."

"Actually, it’s 22 days," Meng Kaiyan replied. "I still have to go to Gansu for four or five days. As for how it’s going... how should I put it? It’s incredibly satisfying."

"A good role, then?"

"Yes," Meng Kaiyan nodded, her eyes bright. "It’s the most worth-digging-into role I’ve played so far."

"That’s the only kind of role that’s exciting to play. There aren't many good roles left these days. When you find one, give it your all and don't leave yourself with any regrets," Yang Suye sighed.

Seeing that the actors on stage had finished their rehearsal, she called them over to have snacks. Meng Kaiyan was thoughtful; she always brought milk tea and desserts, and sometimes gifts like fridge magnets or puzzles she’d bought during her travels, so no one in the troupe disliked her.

After they finished eating, Yang Suye asked, "Want to give it a try?"

Meng Kaiyan was eager. "Can I?"

"Why not? Ask around and see who’s willing to partner with you."

Xuan Feifei patted her shoulder. "Kaiyan, I’ll partner with you. I’m the worst one here, so it’s perfect for you to practice with me."

Meng Kaiyan was so happy she almost hopped onto the stage.

The new play wasn't complicated; it could be summarized in one sentence: a nanny’s observation diary. A country girl named Xiao He becomes a nanny and, through her perspective, unfolds the bizarre and ridiculous stories of a wealthy family.

The master of the house, the mistress who had ousted the previous wife but now faced being replaced herself, the daughter from the first marriage, the son from the current marriage, and two children who had yet to officially enter the family.

In short: four children, four mothers.

The characters were plentiful, and the plot was dramatic. Even if it lacked high artistic value, it was highly watchable.

"Who am I playing?" Meng Kaiyan asked.

"You’re playing the eldest son’s girlfriend," Yang Suye said.

"Ah?" Meng Kaiyan flipped through the script, then suddenly realized.

The eldest son’s girlfriend was the ultimate character who had the last laugh in the script. She successfully ascended to power, becoming the stepmother of her ex-boyfriend, only to face a new round of struggles.

Meng Kaiyan pondered the character for a while, loosened up her body, and began to rehearse with the script in hand.

She tilted her neck slightly, her brows furrowed. "I only love money too much, what could possibly be wrong with that? In this house, who doesn't love money? Why are you all so harsh to me!"

As she spoke, her expression shifted from confusion to anger.

Before Xuan Feifei could respond, Yang Suye called for a stop. She circled Meng Kaiyan twice, puzzled. "You’ve been to a film set and back—how come you don't know how to act anymore?"

Meng Kaiyan froze. "Ah?"

"Ah, what?" Yang Suye asked. "Was the character you played on set very sharp?"

"Yes," Meng Kaiyan replied.

"That’s it," Yang Suye said. "You still carry her shadow. You’ve made a mistake and brought the traits of that character into this one."

Meng Kaiyan suddenly realized why her emotions had been so volatile lately.