Chapter 45: She Is My Walking Dream

P.S. Thank you to the reader who gifted me dragon coins, I Eel!

“I’m back…” Luo Quan opened the door and carefully slipped off her high heels.

After the photo shoot, Director Shi Cun, following Raphael’s advice, gifted the entire outfit to Luo Quan, effectively setting her future styling template.

Today’s effect of her black dress was visible to all—no matter the occasion, wearing this ensemble would never be wrong.

Unfortunately, Luo Quan still preferred T-shirts and shorts; she still found dresses somewhat uncomfortable, though perhaps she’d grow accustomed to them over time.

“Luo Luo, your look is absolutely stunning!” Wen Xia shrieked, immediately pulling out her phone and snapping rapid photos of Luo Quan.

“This is a Givenchy dress, right…” Chunzi’s eyes sparkled, though not for the dress itself—but for Luo Quan wearing it.

Luo Quan nodded: “You’ve done your homework—you recognized it at a glance.”

“I have a few in my closet, but I don’t wear them much.”

Wen Xia pouted: “Our company has never designed a single stylish look for me—always crop tops, hot pants, and flats!”

“Do you think high heels are comfortable?” Luo Quan bent down and rubbed her ankle; it was the first time in her life she’d worn high heels, and she’d twisted her ankle twice walking here—luckily, she’d been cautious and avoided serious injury.

Wen Xia protested: “Yes, high heels put a heavy burden on the body, but their effect on height and posture is undeniable!”

Luo Quan asked seriously: “So do you enjoy wearing high heels every day?”

“No,” Wen Xia shook her head without hesitation.

“Then there you go…”

“By the way, Luo-chan, how was your interview?” Chunzi asked curiously.

Luo Quan recalled: “It was simple—just took photos, then asked me a few questions about my childhood and hobbies. My early life was plain and uneventful, no big highlights, so the interview ended in under twenty minutes.”

Wen Xia asked: “Didn’t your company give you a script to memorize?”

“A script?” Luo Quan blinked.

“The interview script—the company hires writers to craft stories about your childhood to flesh out your image.”

“Someone else writes my life story?” Luo Quan was stunned. “Tell me—what did your script say during your interview?”

Wen Xia laughed: “My company gave me an independent persona—self-reliant since childhood, parents always away, yet I took perfect care of myself.”

“I was top of my class, a teacher’s pet, a daughter any parent would be proud of!”

Luo Quan burst out laughing: “But you always copied my homework!”

Wen Xia blushed: “The grades were fake, but at least the self-reliance wasn’t, right?”

Luo Quan rolled her eyes: “Cooking a simple fried rice counts as self-reliance? You can’t even cook it as well as I can.”

Wen Xia shrugged helplessly: “I didn’t want to, but the company made me say it—they said this persona appeals more to modern teenage girls.”

Luo Quan sneered: “Now I understand the real face of idols. From now on, if anyone tells me some idol is so perfect, I won’t believe a single hair of it.”

Not just Luo Quan was stunned—beside her, Liu Sheng Chunzi was equally shocked. So this was how idol personas were constructed—all the glamour was manufactured by staff behind the scenes.

Actually, it wasn’t just Chunzi—all fans faced this problem. No matter how well they thought they knew their idols, they’d never grown up with them; the idol’s true self remained unknowable.

Perhaps on camera they were refined and elegant, but behind closed doors they swore constantly, smoked, and did drugs—none of it was new. This was one reason idols’ personas collapsed so easily.

A person can pretend for a while, but not for a lifetime. One slip-up, and they’re instantly trending, exposed to the world.

Finding a star with zero scandals in this environment was like searching for gold in sand.

Fortunately, Luo Quan was exactly such a gold nugget—her plain, uneventful early life left her with almost no negative news; past rumors had been proven entirely fabricated. Now, her record was spotless.

The day after filming, Tdler posted the processed photos and Luo Quan’s personal bio on the website’s homepage, and shared them across major platforms like Twitter and Facebook.

Because of a director’s comment, she trended in the United States.

“She is my walking dream!”

Hollywood’s renowned director Claire Ford retweeted a photo of Luo Quan.

In the photo, Luo Quan faced the camera in profile, right hand resting gently on her abdomen, left hand resting on her collarbone, her smile serene and beautiful.

Under Claire’s comment, everyone asked for the girl’s name—many assumed she was the lead in Claire’s new film.

As one of the world’s greatest fantasy film directors, Claire Ford was not only a member of the billion-dollar box office club but also a two-time Oscar winner for Best Director—critically acclaimed and wildly popular.

The only flaw: though his films had repeatedly been nominated for the Oscar for Best Picture, he’d never won the most prestigious award.

Rumor had it he was currently developing a massive project—an adaptation of a fantasy epic—with an initial investment of $200 million, planned as a three-film series—truly ambitious.

Naturally, the lead roles in such a grand production were fiercely contested; since the news broke, Claire Ford’s inbox had been flooded with actor submissions, including some shockingly explicit personal photo collections.

But how could such vulgar, flashy actresses possibly meet Claire Ford’s standards? So far, both lead roles remained unfilled.

Today, however, Claire suddenly retweeted a photo of an unknown girl—and gave her such an extraordinary compliment. Even a fool could tell he had a specific intention.

No wonder the public assumed this girl was Claire’s new film’s female lead.

But Claire Ford quickly responded to all the comments:

“She is not the female lead in my film—at least, not yet.”

Not explaining would’ve been better—this reply instantly exploded Twitter.

His wording clearly implied intent: not now, but soon, once the contract was signed?

Amid the heated discussion, Tdler’s tweet about Luo Quan immediately surged to the top of America’s trending list.

At first, seeing Luo Quan’s appearance, people thought America had produced another stunning beauty—no wonder it was the center of world culture, the beacon of humanity.

But when they noticed the prominent Five-Star Red Flag in the upper-right corner of the photo, the atmosphere turned strangely silent.