Fu Chenzhou · Chat

The annual Golden Flower Awards ceremony is slowly proceeding under the spotlight of millions. Tonight is your highlight moment. With your first-ever drama as the female lead, you successfully broke through a crowd of veteran actors. The series has exploded in popularity across the internet, gaining both critical acclaim and massive views. In just a few short months, you have leaped to become the most sought-after rising starlet in the entertainment industry, enjoying unparalleled glory. As the work successfully enters the nominations for the heavyweight Best Actress award, the atmosphere in the venue becomes increasingly solemn. The spotlights are all focused on the center of the stage. A respected veteran director in the industry, known for his strictness and sharp tongue, holds the microphone. A superficial smile on his face, he slowly announces the final winner list. His voice echoes clearly throughout the venue through the top-tier sound system, every word carrying an intriguing, deep meaning: "The Best Actress of this year's Golden Flower Awards—this actress is exceptionally talented and has made rapid progress. In just one short year, she went from being unknown to suddenly exploding in popularity, becoming the most popular rising actress across the internet." Pausing slightly, the director deliberately draws out his tone, heavily dropping four words from his lips with undisguised sarcasm and deliberate bias, each word striking like a dagger: "A... very... capable... one." The deliberately emphasized four words fall lightly into the bustling venue, instantly causing the air to freeze subtly. What follows is your name. Everyone present is a shrewd player, instantly understanding the hidden blade in these words. The so-called "very capable" is not a compliment for acting skills, but a tacitly understood, sarcasm-filled slang in the circle, subtly hinting that your rise is of questionable origin and that you are all show and no substance. The entire venue goes silent for a moment, and countless gazes—either probing, playful, or waiting for a show—all land on you at once. The broadcast director is extremely sharp, immediately cutting the high-definition camera precisely to your seat. The big screen instantly projects your profile, showing every detail. The A-list female artist sitting side-by-side next to you wears a standard, decent professional smile, turning to look at you, but her eyes hide an uncontrollable scrutiny and disdain. That smile is gentle yet hypocritical, full of anticipation for a good show. Your mind is crystal clear. This passive-aggressive comment will definitely blow up the trending searches across the internet after tonight. Hashtags like #GoldenFlowerAwardsSubtlyMocksRisingStarlet and #AllTrafficNoActingSkills are destined to dominate the charts overnight, and countless public opinions will swallow you whole. Yet, with the camera hanging high and the public watching, countless eyes are fixed on your every move. You do not show a single trace of embarrassment or grievance. A gentle and calm smile rises on your lips, your back straight, your posture elegant and serene, as you slowly stand up under the gaze of the entire venue. With your long dress trailing the ground and your posture upright, you gracefully walk across the red carpet between the seats, taking calm steps onto the award stage that millions yearn for. Facing the posturing veteran director on the stage, you nod slightly, politely raise your hand to briefly touch his palm, and firmly take the heavy crystal trophy he hands over. Your fingertips touch the cold body of the trophy, your eyes remaining calm and clear, without a hint of awkwardness. Taking the microphone, your voice is clear and steady, showing no signs of emotion: "Thank you to the Golden Flower Awards for this recognition, and thank you to all the crew members for their hard work. The path of a newcomer never stops. In the future, I will continue to hone my acting skills and respond to all voices with my work." A brief, restrained acceptance speech, decent and comprehensive, with absolutely nothing to criticize. After bowing in gratitude, you hold the trophy and walk slowly down the stage, sitting back in your original seat, still looking calm, serene, and unfazed by either praise or blame. The entire awards ceremony concludes successfully. The night is deep as the luxury car smoothly drives into the quiet villa area. On the way back, the notification sounds of trending search push alerts on your phone ring out one after another, endlessly. Major marketing accounts have mobilized overnight, and overwhelming press releases sweep across the internet. #RisingStarletUsesBeautyToRise #ACertainGoldenFlowerBestActressBringsCapitalToTheCast #NoBackgroundNoExperienceExplodesInPopularityOvernightEntirelyRelyingOnCapital The maliciously speculative hashtags firmly occupy the top of the trending list, every word and sentence smearing all your hard work, completely erasing the acting skills you honed day and night and the struggles you went through on set, attributing your sudden popularity entirely to beauty and capital backers. You quietly watch the rapidly refreshing comment section, your fingertips slightly cold, remaining silent throughout. Warm lights in the villa's entryway turn on, casting warmth throughout the house. Fu Chenzhou has already finished his work and is waiting at home. He sits on the dark sofa in the living room, his fingertips casually resting on his knee. The screen is paused on tonight's Golden Flower Awards playback page, frozen right on the frame where the director was deliberately mocking you and you were calmly accepting the award. The man is dressed in black loungewear, his features handsome and cold, the atmosphere around him quiet to the point of indifference. He doesn't speak, but his deep dark eyes fall heavily on you, his emotions unreadable. Yet no one knows that since your debut, you have endured step by step from being an extra, a background character, and a minor supporting role to the female lead position, never relying on a single bit of the Fu family's power. His occasional small investments in the past were merely because he didn't want your minor scenes to be deleted at will; he never interfered with casting, nor did he pave the way or carry the sedan chair for you. This hit drama where you played the lead was something you fought for with your own abilities, facing countless audition pressures, auditioning over and over, and honing your acting skills time and again. Your acting, your resilience, and your hard work should not be so cheapened and slandered. Avoiding his quiet gaze, you suppress the sourness and grievance rising in your heart, quietly change your shoes, and turn to walk into the bathroom. The warm water washes away the exhaustion of the day and the vanity of the ceremony, also quietly washing away the decency you had forced yourself to maintain. After washing up, you sit in front of the vanity table under the soft light of the desk lamp. You pick up the toner, your fingertips trembling slightly. The grievance, unwillingness, and frustration accumulated over the past days pile up layer by layer in your heart. In a place where no one can see, your emotions have already reached the brink of collapse. Suddenly, there is a sharp, loud crash. Your finger slips, and the transparent toner bottle suddenly falls, smashing hard against the marble floor. The glass shatters and splatters everywhere, the clear liquid spreading across the floor, the cold water stains just like your currently defeated state of mind. The emotions that have been suppressed for so long completely tear open a rift at this moment. The nights spent running around as an extra for years, the embarrassment of being rejected countless times, the hardship of staying up late over and over to study characters, the grievance of having the achievements won by your own strength completely smeared—all of it surges up, blocking your throat, making you choke with sourness. You do not cry, but just sit frozen in place, your back slightly stiff, enduring to the absolute limit. Fu Chenzhou, who has been standing silently behind you all this time, takes in all your subtle loss of control and suppressed collapse. He remains silent throughout, without a single question or a single word of empty comfort. Taking long strides forward, the man's tall figure gently casts a shadow over you. He bends down, his movements low and restrained, his fingertips swiftly picking up the shattered glass on the floor. His actions are meticulous and gentle, carefully avoiding the sharp edges, silently cleaning up the mess and burying all the fragmented embarrassment. After cleaning up the shattered pieces, he slowly kneels down, gently embracing your warm back from behind, his broad palm firmly covering your abdomen, wrapping you securely into his arms. His scent is cool and calming, stripped of all indifference and aloofness. His voice is deep and magnetic, carrying a unique gentle indulgence as he whispers softly in your ear, gently dismantling all your tension: "Baby, how about I perform a magic trick for you?" The next morning, the sky is bright. A bombshell news explodes in the entertainment industry—the veteran director has been abusing his power to coerce female actresses into sexual favors, and five or six actresses have united to expose him. For the blockbuster S+ level new drama that he had been preparing for three years and which had attracted star-studded attention, all cooperating investors withdrew their capital overnight, without exception.