Lu Hanwen didn’t agree right away, but his gaze clearly wavered—he didn’t want to offend Lin Weiyu either.
Jiang Shunnian did have solid acting skills, but crossing the investor and Lin Weiyu over him wasn’t worth it.
Jiang Shunnian gripped Yu Yanchen’s arm, signaling him not to act impulsively. He turned to Lin Weiyu with a mild tone. “Teacher Lin, could we talk privately?”
Lin Weiyu hadn’t expected this reaction from Jiang Shunnian. He froze for a moment before barking gruffly, “What’s there to talk about? I don’t like you. I don’t want you in the same crew as me.”
“What if I said I have a way to make your wish come true?”
Everyone on set heard this, and their gazes toward Jiang Shunnian shifted to curiosity.
Lin Weiyu’s expression flickered, and he gave a slight nod despite his lifted chin. “Fine, let’s talk.”
He turned and headed straight to his exclusive lounge, with Jiang Shunnian following a step behind.
Once the door closed, Lin Weiyu flopped onto the recliner, legs crossed and swinging casually as he tapped away on his phone, looking utterly indifferent. “Quit beating around the bush. Spit it out.”
“Teacher Lin,” Jiang Shunnian said earnestly, “before we talk, I want to tell you that I really need this job.”
Jiang Shunnian didn’t have full confidence he could persuade Lin Weiyu, but he had to give it his all.
Yesterday, Yu Yanchen had asked his agent about signing Jiang Shunnian, but the agent advised against it.
It wasn’t that the person who’d eyed Jiang Shunnian back then refused to let him go. Their entertainment company was just too crappy—amid last year’s film industry winter, not only had they failed to turn a profit, they’d lost a ton of money.
The boss planned to sell the company soon; if that fell through, they’d shut it down entirely. So not just Jiang Shunnian—even Yu Yanchen’s future hung in the balance.
He couldn’t afford to lose this role in hand.
He needed to build his name fast and sign with a proper entertainment company.
Jiang Shunnian wasn’t a total newbie to the industry. When the producer had him tweak his look earlier, he’d already suspected the male lead Lin Weiyu might hold a grudge against him. So besides reading the script and original novel, he’d searched Lin Weiyu’s background and asked Yu Yanchen for the scoop.
Lin Weiyu was twenty-four, debuting five years ago. He’d started as a nobody getting squeezed out of resources, his early work raw in skill but brimming with spark. Later, fed up with rivals stealing gigs and buying smears calling him an average-looking guy, he’d gotten plastic surgery and found a sugar daddy.
When he’d dangled fulfilling Lin Weiyu’s wish, the guy had given him an opening—so Jiang Shunnian figured Lin Weiyu wasn’t rotten to the core.
“Teacher Lin, I’m sorry—I did some digging on you. You never forgot that young fan’s dying wish, right? To become a shining, acclaimed actor.” Jiang Shunnian’s voice stayed soft, careful not to offend. “You’ve skipped variety shows for promotions, sticking to sets instead. I believe, in that fan’s heart, you’re already an amazing actor.”
This came from flipping through Lin Weiyu’s super topic. Early in his career, a fourteen-year-old fan had battled terminal illness and passed soon after. Her biggest wish: for Lin Weiyu to win Best Actor, knowing it was his dream too.
Most actors—barring the total opportunists—chased awards and real acclaim for their skills.
Lin Weiyu stared at Jiang Shunnian, his eyes a storm of emotions.
Tears welled up gradually.
“I wouldn’t call myself top-tier, but I studied acting for four years, and my teachers rated me well. Sure, I left the industry for four years, but I never fully quit performing—I even did some voice work. So if you need it, during the shoot, I’ll help with any acting questions you have, wholeheartedly.”
This was the one thing Jiang Shunnian could offer. If Lin Weiyu didn’t bite, he’d have no choice but to pack his bags and leave, head to Film City, and queue at the extras’ union for gigs.
“You suck at negotiating,” Lin Weiyu said, wiping his eyes. His tone was still grumpy, but the edge had dulled. “If I weren’t such a good guy, I’d have kicked you out for hitting my sore spot.”
“That’s exactly why I dared say it—Teacher Lin, you’re a good person.” Jiang Shunnian smiled.
Lin Weiyu eyed him again. “With looks like yours, how are you not famous yet?”
He’d sensed the threat from the first glance.
Jiang Shunnian gave a helpless laugh. “Fate, I guess.”
Sure, leaving the industry for four years had cost him chances, but Nono’s arrival filled that void completely. He was content.
“Fine, I’ll give you a shot.” Lin Weiyu stood, masking his emotions. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Thanks, Teacher Lin.”
Their talk didn’t last long. When the door opened, all eyes locked on them. Yu Yanchen jogged over, whispering for an update. Jiang Shunnian smiled and flashed a thumbs-up: all good.
Lin Weiyu strode to Lu Hanwen. “He stays.”
Lu Hanwen exhaled in relief. “Alright, let’s shoot?”
Once Jiang Shunnian finished makeup and emerged, Lin Weiyu’s assistant fetched him to the lounge. Lin Weiyu frowned on sight. “Why’d you make yourself so ugly?”
But he wasn’t dumb—he realized it was to downplay for him—and flushed with annoyance. “Go fix it. I’m not that petty.”
Jiang Shunnian shook his head. “It’s fine—the character’s supposed to look like this. Teacher Lin, shall we run lines first?”
“Sure. My next scene’s this one—walk me through it.”
The shoot was a week in, progressing steadily. The original novel was short; even expanded, it was a breezy twenty-to-thirty-episode web drama.
Lin Weiyu’s sugar daddy was the investor, giving him major pull. He pushed Lu Hanwen for high standards, but the director was a slacker, passing stuff as “good enough.”
It left Lin Weiyu frustrated, like punching cotton—powerless. He tinkered alone at night, unsure if he was right.
Jiang Shunnian had devoured the full novel and script. Female-lead rebirth story from her POV, so her arcs dominated the highlights.
But the male lead had untapped depth—subtle details to show hidden feelings. Time short, Jiang Shunnian broke down the scene, even demoing it live.
Lin Weiyu was blown away. He’d hired teachers before, but they grew impatient, spouting textbook lines or telling him to study film clips alone. No one had ever dissected how to act it, why, controlling expressions and eyes for depth.
Jiang Shunnian had aced these in college—he was a national award winner yearly. How else would a director pluck him mid-studies?
But true acting magic was raw emotion, resonating as the character. That took time; Jiang Shunnian wasn’t fully there yet, so he stuck to techniques.
The payoff was instant: Lin Weiyu’s first post-rehearsal scene nailed in one take. The female lead even flubbed a line, thrown by his eyes.
Take two, he ad-libbed deeper emotion—better results.
Lu Hanwen’s perpetually droopy eyes widened.
He glanced at Jiang Shunnian, spotting his shadow in Lin Weiyu’s performance through a director’s lens.
At this level, the drama might not flop.
Like a show-within-a-show: a strong actor elevates the script to smash-hit status.
Night shoots loomed that day. Post-afternoon wrap, Yu Yanchen finally cornered Jiang Shunnian. “Shunnian, what’d you do with Lin Weiyu? His acting’s suddenly killer!”
Before Jiang Shunnian could reply, Lin Weiyu called again. “Teacher Jiang, dinner together?”
As male lead, he got special catering.
Jiang Shunnian smiled and declined. “Sorry, can’t join you.”
I’ve got Nono.
Lin Weiyu read faces well, but his fondness for Jiang Shunnian was sky-high now. Night scene was pivotal—he needed “tutoring.” For once, he pushed. “Something more important than me?”
Yu Yanchen felt a twinge of crisis. My bro’s getting poached by this Lin Weiyu?
Jiang Shunnian sighed, coming clean. “I have to be with my son.”
“You have a son?!” Lin Weiyu’s eyes bugged out in shock.
Ten minutes later, the RV had an extra uninvited male lead.
Nono peered up curiously at the new uncle, who gushed on sight, “Teacher Jiang, your kid’s gorgeous. Entertainment circle material—he’d blow up big time.”
He patted himself down for a gift but came up empty, so he whipped out his phone, transferred money to Jiang Shunnian, then snatched his phone to hit accept.
Jiang Shunnian hadn’t pegged Lin Weiyu for this type—hard to keep up.
Nono was outgoing, fearless, sensing no malice, so he flashed a sweet smile. “Hi, Uncle! I’m Nono. Are you Daddy’s coworker? You look like a good guy—please take care of Daddy!”
It melted Lin Weiyu into a puddle.
Yu Yanchen now knew Lin Weiyu was learning from Jiang Shunnian too—he’d trained under him four years back, knew the talent. Plenty of rival scenes ahead anyway.
One extra pupil or two? No difference.
Lin Weiyu’s upgrade meant reshooting prior footage—his idea.
He coquettishly phoned his sugar daddy, scored more funding, red-packetted the crew, treated to milk tea. Harmony reigned.
Jiang Shunnian’s role was light, but tutoring kept him daily on set, often beside Lu Hanwen at the monitor—better for spotting flaws. He jotted notes on paper, gaining acting insights.
Days later, the original author visited: a shy, pretty young woman.
Her first sold IP. Writing buddies had warned adaptations butcher books, but she fretted, so she’d looped in the screenwriter for the visit.
Spotting Jiang Shunnian, she froze, blurting, “Jiang Shunnian!”
