Chapter 52

Nine Heavens unsurprisingly took the ratings crown for TV dramas in its time slot, and its scores on major forums kept climbing. On Douban, it had already reached a rating of 8.9.

Zhao Yu’s acting in this drama was beyond question. The fact that she could hold her own opposite Ji Shucheng without pulling the audience out of the scene was proof enough of her ability. The investors had been waiting on the sidelines before, but after the show aired, offers for major TV dramas and even film scripts came flooding in.

Then came the announcement that Zhao Yu would star as the female lead in Chen Jianzhong’s new drama, The Cage.

The Yu Beauty fans, still basking in the sheer delight of Qing Ling Princess, were stunned by this new bombshell.

Chen Jianzhong? The suspense king? The director whom netizens hailed as the one who could rival British and American suspense dramas?!

There had been rumors before that Zhao Yu was going to collaborate with the suspense king on a new project. Neither netizens nor fans believed it—they all thought it was too far-fetched.

And yet it was actually true???

The director who had always only worked with veteran actors had chosen to collaborate with a top-tier idol this time???

Nine Heavens was currently airing, and although netizens were cursing left and right that men were no good, they were still deeply invested in both the on-screen “Two Sleeves Clear Breeze” CP and the off-screen “Chengyu” CP. Just as everyone was riding that high, The Cage was officially announced, and everyone suddenly remembered that earlier leak.

—ZY landed the female lead in the suspense king’s new drama. Heard it was a connection from the Movie Emperor.

F*CK!!!

WE’RE SCREAMING!!!

IT’S TRUE!!!

That was the king of suspense dramas. He never used non-professional actors. Without the Movie Emperor’s recommendation, could Zhao Yu have gotten such a great opportunity?

Normally, a little gossip was fine, but when it came to status, the Yu Beauties weren’t having it. They fired back immediately:

—Have you even read The Cage before running your mouth? The original novel is about a witch and a hound—the female lead is as gorgeous and wicked as Medusa. Zhao Yu’s look is a perfect match, which is why the director chose her, got it?

—Her popularity and talent speak for themselves. If a top-tier star wants a role, can’t she get it herself? She needs an introduction? What a joke.

—If you’re going to ship the CP, ship it properly. What’s wrong with you that you have to step on the female lead?

—Career fan here. Yu’s career transition this time is gorgeous. First Nine Heavens, then The Cage. Once these two dramas air, her position in the film and television industry will be solid. After that, if she wants, her team can start reaching out for film roles. I believe she can go far on this path.

—Fans, focus on our own. Don’t let the sour grapes in the muddy water throw you off track. Aren’t the promos for these two dramas enough to keep us busy?

—But also… is there a concert this year? QAQ Stage fans are crying…

The online discussion raged on, but Zhao Yu didn’t pay much attention. After attending three script workshops in Beijing with the production team, she packed her bags and headed to the filming location in Nanjing, officially joining the production.

Besides Zhao Yu, Director Chen also brought in another newcomer this time—Peng Yan, a fresh graduate from the Central Academy of Drama. He wasn’t handsome; his looks were utterly unremarkable, the kind that would blend into any crowd. But as the hound driven by the witch, that very ordinariness was exactly what was needed.

Peng Yan was incredibly talented, especially with his eyes. He’d won the audition over a host of other actors purely through his fervent yet restrained gaze toward the woman he adored—a perfect fit for the role.

Other than these two, the rest of the cast were Director Chen’s usual crew. The Cage wasn’t long—only fifteen episodes—but the shoot was scheduled for over three months, as long as the forty- to fifty-episode idol dramas Zhao Yu used to film.

It was Zhao Yu’s first time playing a villain, and she was thrilled. But the director didn’t throw her into the twisted scenes right away. The witch walked in the sunlight too, and there were plenty of normal scenes to shoot first. They started with those, then gradually increased the darker material, letting her ease into the character step by step.

Time passed, and the shoot carried them into summer.

For months, Zhao Yu barely left the set. The witch was too fractured—radiant in public, vicious in private; flourishing freely in the light, rotting in the dark. The deeper she dove into the role, the more she was affected by that split. Director Chen, wanting the best possible performance, insisted that she stay in character until wrapping, never breaking out, sinking as deep as possible.

Lin Zhinan was beside herself with worry.

Watching Zhao Yu’s eyes grow darker and more sullen, she was terrified that after this shoot, Zhao Yu might actually turn into a real psycho.

But on the day filming wrapped, the moment the director called cut and announced the end of production, Zhao Yu—who had been mired in gloom for months—lit up again in an instant.

She cheerfully hugged and greeted the crew, promising to get together with everyone when they had the chance.

The wrap party was set for that evening.

Lin Zhinan kept eyeing her all the way back to the hotel. The moment they got to the room, she asked, “Are you okay?”

Zhao Yu shot her a “are you okay?” look.

Lin Zhinan came over and patted her head, rubbed her face. “You haven’t turned psycho, have you?”

Zhao Yu said, “You’re insane. I’m going to take a shower. Ahhh, finally wrapped. Don’t schedule anything for me for the next half month—I need a real vacation.”

Lin Zhinan watched her head into the shower and still wasn’t reassured. She followed and called through the glass door: “You played a psycho for months. Hasn’t it affected you? Do you feel annoyed with anyone? Have the urge to destroy everything?”

Zhao Yu’s voice came out through the sound of rushing water: “Yeah.”

Lin Zhinan: “!”

Zhao Yu: “Right now I’m pretty annoyed with you. I’ll come out and destroy you after I shower.”

After her shower, Zhao Yu wrapped herself in a towel, pinned Lin Zhinan down on the sofa, and gave her a good pummeling.

Lin Zhinan was the most ticklish person alive. She screamed and thrashed: “Ahhhh I was just worried about you!”

Zhao Yu sat up, tugging at her loosening towel, crossing her legs like a grand dame and patting her hair wrapped in a turban: “Worry about actual work, not nonsense.”

Lin Zhinan pouted and sat up: “That’s your fault! Your eyes were terrifying during filming! And there are plenty of cases in the industry of actors being affected by their roles!”

Zhao Yu took a sip of water: “That’s different. I have parents, I have friends, I had a happy childhood and a brilliant life.” She leaned back with a satisfied sigh: “Just thinking about all that makes me feel super blessed. I couldn’t turn psycho even if I tried.”

Lin Zhinan believed her, but still wasn’t entirely at ease. At the wrap party, Director Chen had specifically pulled her aside and told her to make sure Zhao Yu got plenty of rest after this, to take her out to play and help her shake off the role sooner.

So after they got back to Beijing, Lin Zhinan didn’t assign her any work. She kept pushing Zhao Yu to go out and have fun.

Zhao Yu was annoyed to death: “Every time I go out, fans chase me. I nearly run my legs off! I’m not going! I’m staying home and playing games!”

Since she couldn’t drag Zhao Yu out, Lin Zhinan changed tactics and started bringing people to her place instead.

So Zhao Yu’s home became a revolving door of visitors.

First Sheng Qiao came over and played King of Glory with Zhao Yu for two days and two nights straight. They nearly died in the canyon, but it paid off—Zhao Yu hit fifty stars for the first time and ranked up to Honor of Kings.

After Sheng Qiao left, Zheng Wanyi showed up with a huge stack of classic films—comedies, romances, horrors—and they laughed, cried, and screamed through them together.

Her industry friends weren’t the only ones. Her non-industry friends didn’t get left out either. Xu Qianqian brought a few high school friends over for a party. Zhao Yu was forced to perform “Encounter Fish” in her own home, and watching her old high school classmates clap along was so mortifying she could’ve dug out a three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment with her toes.

Finally, after seeing off the high school crew, Zhao Yu collapsed on the sofa with a face mask on, barely catching her breath, when Xia Yuan showed up at the door with Shen Junyi.

Zhao Yu opened the door to find the two of them standing there with expressions that screamed “Surprise! Aren’t you thrilled?” and she genuinely felt the urge to turn psycho.

Shen Junyi, ever self-absorbed, asked, “Your big brother came back from abroad just to keep you company. Happy?”

Happy my ass!!!

Zhao Yu wanted to kick him out the door.

Xia Yuan, a regular at her place for hotpot, kicked off his shoes with practiced ease and set down the big box he was carrying, pulling out all sorts of stuff.

A vintage game console. Puzzles. Chinese checkers. Karaoke equipment. All kinds of little playthings. And a case of beer.

It was Shen Junyi’s first time at her place. After changing his shoes and looking around, he spotted Xia Yuan already squatting by the TV, hooking up the karaoke machine, and grumbled, “How come you know her place so well?”

Xia Yuan didn’t even look back: “I come here all the time.”

Shen Junyi got even more annoyed. He turned and glared at Zhao Yu: “How can you just let some guy come over to your house whenever he wants!”

Xia Yuan was offended: “Why can’t I come to my sister’s place?”

Shen Junyi: “You’re not even blood-related!”

Xia Yuan: “Well, you’re not her real brother either, so what gives you the right to say who can come over!”

Zhao Yu threw a pillow at them from the sofa: “Shut up, both of you, or get the hell out.”

The room finally quieted down.

Xia Yuan finished setting up the karaoke system, tapped the mic a couple of times to test it, and echoes filled the room. He tossed glow sticks from the box to everyone, then shouted into the mic with pure excitement: “Are you ready to enter our private exclusive concert?!”

Shen Junyi sat cross-legged on the floor with a pillow under him, waving his glow stick and cheering: “Ohhhh yeah we’re ready!”

And Xia Yuan queued up “Encounter Fish” and started singing and dancing.

Zhao Yu’s toes went back to digging out another three-bedroom, two-living-room.

Because she practiced vocals at home all the time, the whole place was soundproofed. Otherwise, with the racket they were making, the neighbors would’ve complained ages ago.

After Xia Yuan wore himself out, he put on a duet love song and eagerly handed the mic to Zhao Yu: “Sis, let’s sing together.”

But Shen Junyi intercepted it mid-handoff: “Dream on, you want a love duet with her? Give it here, I’ll sing!”

The room filled with their gut-wrenching vocals.

Near the end, the two of them dragged Zhao Yu off the sofa. Shen Junyi reached over and ripped off her face mask, then shoved the mic in her face: “Next line, take it!”

Zhao Yu: “…” She cleared her throat, then belted it out with full force: “Even if the universe ends! My heart! Still beats—”

Xia Yuan: “WHOOOOOOOO—”

At some point, Lin Zhinan called to check how they were doing entertaining Zhao Yu, but the three of them were way too hyped to even hear their phones ringing. They sang, they drank, they played games and Chinese checkers. By nightfall, the whole place reeked of alcohol.

The three of them were sprawled out on the floor in every direction. The air conditioner blasted away. Zhao Yu wrapped a little blanket around her shoulders, sipping a can of beer while Xia Yuan warbled children’s songs beside her.

Shen Junyi crushed his empty beer can one-handed and chucked it at him: “Shut up! That sounds awful.”

Xia Yuan turned his head and glared at him, drunk: “My fans say I sing really well!”

Shen Junyi: “Your fans are lying to you! Fans are the biggest liars!”

Zhao Yu: “HAHAHAHAHA—hic—”

Shen Junyi poked her with his glow stick. His vision was blurry, and she kept splitting into three; he poked and missed: “What are you laughing at!”

Zhao Yu put her hands on her hips: “Why can’t I laugh? My singing doesn’t sound bad! I sing great, okay!”

Shen Junyi flailed his glow stick wildly: “You’re not that great either! All you do is spread rumors and ship CPs—are you the reincarnation of gossip or what!”

Zhao Yu grabbed her own glow stick and clashed with his: “Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah! I like spreading gossip, what’s it to you!”

Shen Junyi: “Ha! Hey! En garde!”

The two drunkards swung their glow sticks like swords, clashing and bashing for ages. In a moment of inattention, he knocked hers out of her hand. Shen Junyi cackled, lunged forward with his glow stick, and pinned her to the floor, the stick at her throat: “My sword is faster than yours! You lose! No more shipping CPs with Ji Shucheng!”

Zhao Yu kicked and flailed: “I’m going to ship with him if I want! You can like other people, but I can’t ship CPs? You hypocritical double-standard bastard!”

Shen Junyi was getting his hair and clothes wrecked by her four flailing limbs. He jabbed her armpits with the glow stick: “Nonsense! Who do I like?”

Zhao Yu snorted and turned her head away.

Shen Junyi grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him: “Say it!”

Zhao Yu thrashed: “You like Qiaoqiao! Don’t think I don’t know!”

Shen Junyi shook her chin back and forth: “No no no, I don’t like her anymore! Don’t make excuses for your CP ships!”

Zhao Yu was dizzy from the shaking, screaming and cursing: “Aaaaaah Shen Junyi you bastard let me go what right do you have to tell me what to do!”

Shen Junyi: “Because I’m your brother!”

Zhao Yu: “Bullshit! My mom only had one kid!”

Shen Junyi: “You called me brother for years and now you’re taking it back? No way!”

Zhao Yu: “I don’t acknowledge it! I never called you that! Aaaaaah Xia Yuan save me—”

But Xia Yuan was lost in his karaoke world, hugging the mic and singing with deep emotion: “Monkey King! Monkey King! You’re truly something—”