Chapter 111

Hotel room

“I already said last time—we have no grudge, just a little misunderstanding. Even if I did anything wrong, I already apologized to you before.”

Fan Xiaopang nodded. The feud between them over The Treasure Basin had been settled since Yan Li approached her at the bar to make peace.

At the very least, regardless of what they truly felt inside, publicly they had buried the hatchet.

Considering Yan Li had apologized first, Fan Xiaopang even added an extra line this time.

“I had my own faults too. I apologize to you.”

“Good, I accept. Let’s put this behind us. No fight, no friendship—we’ve collaborated on two films together, that’s fate. From now on, we’re friends.”

Yan Li set the tone: first resolve the conflict, then build closeness, before moving on to discuss further collaboration.

Fan Xiaopang’s lips twitched, as if she wanted to say something, but swallowed the words.

Deep down, she still had one unresolved matter: Yan Li had helped Li Bingbing snatch the female lead role in Mobile Phone from her.

But objectively speaking, there was no real grounds to blame Yan Li.

Even when Fan Xiaopang had been angry back then, she never pointed the finger at Yan Li—she just felt they were fundamentally incompatible and hoped to drift farther apart.

But she hadn’t expected this guy had some real ability—he’d stirred up quite a bit of noise, even prompting Hua Jie to personally advise her to try to get along with Yan Li, at least not to offend him.

Fan Xiaopang had a take-it-or-leave-it personality.

If Yan Li were just some minor actor, she’d avoid him for life. But since Yan Li could bring benefits to her career, Fan Xiaopang was willing to bow her head, apologize, turn swords into plowshares, and see if she could forge a connection.

To be honest, Fan Xiaopang had even prepared herself mentally for Yan Li to put on a superior attitude.

As long as it wasn’t too extreme, she planned to endure it.

But Yan Li’s friendly, almost affectionate demeanor surprised her, moved her, and triggered unrelenting caution.

She hadn’t forgotten: this man was a smiling tiger and a schemer.

During The Treasure Basin, he’d acted like a kind gentleman, then turned right around and dug traps for her.

So if Yan Li had teased or given her a hard time a little, she’d have been annoyed—but it would’ve felt reasonable.

But this warm, amiable version of Yan Li made Fan Xiaopang certain he was trying to trick her.

Unable to bear his constant attempts at closeness, Fan Xiaopang spoke up directly.

“If we’re friends, just say what you want.”

“Good, straightforward—I like that.”

Yan Li gave his usual compliment, then launched into Heavenly Joyful Seven Fairies, speaking fluently to persuade… cough, convince.

“Bingbing, I’m a year older than you—I’ll be presumptuous and call myself brother.”

“Brother won’t play games with you. Our drama’s budget is absolutely top-tier in the industry, and the character designs are outstanding—they’re perfect for launching careers.”

“As for the Fifth Fairy role, she’s defined as the most beautiful woman in Heaven—truly. When I first saw this character, the first person I thought of was you.”

“Though we had a misunderstanding, I absolutely recognize your looks and beauty—you’re a top-tier beauty in the entertainment circle. This role of the Heavenly First Beauty was made for you.”

“I’ve always believed that given your condition, you should play goddesses, fairies, or beauties—otherwise, you’d be wasting that face of yours, so stunning it could topple nations.”

“You were just young before, hadn’t fully matured, and took some losses. Otherwise, what’s left of the Four Little Flower Actresses? Bundle them all together, and none of them compare to you.”

“….”

Yan Li went on and on, praising her so extravagantly that even Xi Shi or Diaochan would bow their heads to Fan Xiaopang, and Daji or Bao Si would stand at attention.

Fan Xiaopang was wary and knew Yan Li’s words were flattery, wildly exaggerated.

But the compliments were just so damn pleasant to hear!

Fan Xiaopang blushed, her heart thumping, lips pressed tight to suppress the growing curve of her smile—she waved her hands in modesty, yet made no effort to stop Yan Li.

Only when Yan Li’s throat ran dry and he paused to drink water did she reluctantly speak up, saying she didn’t deserve such praise.

This little woman really liked being flattered!

Yan Li felt he’d met his match today—ordinary girls would’ve been dazzled and dazed by now.

But Fan Xiaopang had strong endurance; though slightly intoxicated, she remained clear-headed and still refused to take the bait on the Fifth Fairy role.

If that’s the case, it’s time to get down to real talk.

Yan Li stopped the flattery and spoke plainly about Heavenly Joyful Seven Fairies.

“...So although the Fifth Fairy’s screen time is slightly less, our drama is an ensemble piece with no clear male or female leads. If you need it, I can absolutely put your name first.”

Fan Xiaopang couldn’t stay silent now—she still wanted to get close to Yan Li.

Whether she’d take the role or not was secondary; she had to say the right words.

“Brother, technically, this is your first time asking me, and it’s your company’s first major production—I should help you out. But you know, we have to follow our company’s decisions. Hua Jie is truly hard to deal with.”

“….”

Yan Li didn’t say anything foolish like “I’ll talk to Hua Jie.” Fan Xiaopang was clearly negotiating—Hua Jie would stand with Fan.

If the deal was profitable, Fan Xiaopang would push Hua Jie to agree out of “loyalty.”

Likewise, Hua Jie would honor Yan Li’s “face” and clear all obstacles despite opposition.

But if Yan Li treated her like a fool, gave her nothing but empty promises,

then Fan Xiaopang and Hua Jie couldn’t do much—despite their best efforts, the internal resistance at Huayi was too strong, and they’d have to wait for the next collaboration.

Yan Li understood this perfectly and spoke plainly.

“...Bingbing, help me out this time, and I owe you a favor. Next time I make a new drama, I’ll think of you first.”

“That’s too far off.”

Fan Xiaopang knew when to stop. Her main goal was to build rapport with Yan Li, so stretching a bit to get a commitment was enough.

Demanding a favor outright would feel like holding something over him—it might leave a lingering resentment.

So when Yan Li didn’t speak up, she held back. But once she secured the favor, she stepped back and offered help out of loyalty, with no expectation of return.

“With those words from you, I know you see me as family. If you have a need, I can’t just watch. I’ll talk to Hua Jie—I’ll give it my all.”

“Straightforward.”

Yan Li had initially thought Fan Xiaopang was trying to extract conditions. When she stepped back, he finally understood—his eyes filled with admiration.

No wonder she’s a billionaire—she really knows how to play the game.

This push-pull, this tension and release—achieved the goal without making anyone resentful.

Though her tactics were still a bit crude and unnatural, they were far superior to the usual clueless girls who just demand perks or strip for favors.

Yan Li thought for a moment and added another card: “Besides you, I’ve also invited Li Bingbing. No problem with that, right?”

Fan Xiaopang froze, then smiled: “No problem—I’m on great terms with her.”

“I knew it! A little thing like Mobile Phone couldn’t hurt your friendship?”

Fan Xiaopang: “...”

Enough already—do you have to stab me right in the heart?!

Yan Li sensed the remark went too far and backtracked: “I was just worried you two might have misunderstandings—I wanted to help smooth things over. We’re all friends; unity matters most.”

Fan Xiaopang gave him a sidelong glance—unity? Pfft. He probably feared they’d cause trouble on set or find excuses to quit.

She couldn’t help letting out a huff: “I don’t care—I’m doing it for your face.”

“Bold of you.”

Yan Li gave a thumbs-up in praise. Fan Xiaopang didn’t respond, but asked instead: “Who’s Li Bingbing playing?”

“The Second Fairy. Less screen time than yours.”

Hearing Li Bingbing had less screen time, Fan Xiaopang felt slightly better—and also surprised.

“With so little screen time, how did you get her?”

Li Bingbing was already more famous than her, and now with Mobile Phone, she was quietly becoming Huayi’s top actress—yet Yan Li had convinced her to take a supporting role.

Yan Li smiled without answering. How could he explain? That Li Bingbing was grateful he helped her snatch the Mobile Phone lead, so she was returning the favor?

Fan Xiaopang misinterpreted Yan Li’s expression, eyes widening in shock.

“Is your gossip with her true?”

If those two were really involved, why was she wasting energy courting Yan Li? Was she just helping Li’s dowry?

Yan Li nearly choked. He glanced at Fan Xiaopang’s face and guessed her thoughts. Annoyed, he explained:

“You’re imagining things—I have a girlfriend.”

“Who’s she playing?”

Fan Xiaopang instantly understood. Yan Li would never neglect his own person—among the Seven Fairies, one must be his woman.

“Your third sister.”

Fan Xiaopang wondered which poor girl this schemer had tricked, while also pondering: if Li Bingbing had no connection to Yan Li, why was she helping him so much?

She wasn’t stupid—she’d been misled by the gossip and first assumed a romantic duo.

Now that the false information was removed, and remembering Hua Jie’s earlier hints, the truth wasn’t hard to guess. Soon, Fan Xiaopang’s face darkened.

“Correct.”

Yan Li sighed and admitted: “She believes in my potential, so she’s made a heavy investment. But I’m not one to favor one over another—I’ll remember both your favors.”

Fan Xiaopang fought hard to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. This guy was shameless—and treated her like an idiot.

But then again, she thought Yan Li’s words weren’t entirely baseless. Li Bingbing might truly be betting on him.

Looks like I made the right move!

Otherwise, Li Bingbing would’ve gained a strategist and a promising resource channel—I’d stand no chance against her.

Watching Fan Xiaopang’s shifting expression, Yan Li nodded inwardly.

He’d said it: Li Bingbing’s participation was both an obstacle to inviting Fan Xiaopang—and a powerful weapon.

Conversely, with Fan Xiaopang on board, he could use the same tactic against Li Bingbing.

Li’s sisters knew his strength and feared he might be swayed by Fan Xiaopang into becoming a major enemy, so they would try to win Yan Li’s favor.

No matter how tight Li Bing’s schedule, he must make room for Yan Li for two months.

The Li sisters’ high regard for him would further stir Fan Xiaopang’s ambitions, perhaps prompting him to increase his investment.

At that point, Yan Li would benefit from both sides, killing two birds with one stone—tricking both Li Bing and Fan Xiaopang into making money for him, while honing his skill at playing both sides, ready to confront Dong Xuan and Qin Lan.

I’m literally a genius!

Yan Li felt proud inside, but outwardly chatted casually with Fan Xiaopang as if nothing mattered.

Fan Xiaopang agreed while mentally reviewing whether she’d fallen into Yan Li’s trap—she thought she hadn’t, yet vaguely sensed something off.

————

The next day, Yan Li met Director Meng Ji and learned from Fan Xiaotian which role he’d play—

the elder brother of Jinmao Rat: Tun Tian Rat.

In the original script, Jinmao Rat had three elder brothers, none of whom showed their faces—just cloaked in capes, faces covered in black cloth to maintain mystery.

Most other roles were already cast; Fan Xiaotian wasn’t satisfied with minor parts, so he dug this one out.

Three brothers became one; hidden face became visible face!

Slight plot changes were made—for instance, in the original, after the three brothers were captured, two were eaten by the third, who then escaped.

The revised script had him eat himself—consuming his own arm, thinning himself down, before fleeing.

After these changes, the plot became even crazier than before, leaving Yan Li hesitating as he read the script.

“Isn’t this character a bit deranged?”

“That’s exactly what makes it compelling—audiences will remember it.”

Fan Xiaotian offered his view: Yan Li had little screen time; to make an impression and not waste his role, he had to play an outrageous character.

Yan Li agreed—it was twisted, yes, but also ruthless and impressive.

He ate his way through gods, demons, and spirits, even the Buddha himself was on his menu.

Yan Li never shied from playing villains—he hated the nauseating, sleazy plots like Yuwen Chengdu’s queue scenes. This Tun Tian Rat, though insane, promised an exhilarating performance.

“Fine, I’ll take the role.”

Yan Li nodded and went for makeup. Since the script was newly revised, no prior preparations existed; everything was discussed on the spot.

Costume remained black robe, cloak, and hood—Yan Li only needed to show his face.

After discussion, his skin was painted pale, blood-red contact lenses added to his eyes, and black fur tufts placed beside his ears to reveal his demonic nature.

The makeup team had everything ready and quickly assembled it.

Yan Li studied himself in the mirror, felt his upright posture was too tall for a rat spirit, so he hunched over, expression sinister yet edged with madness.

The vibe was there, but still lacking something.

Yan Li pondered a moment, asked for a blood pack, bit into it—blood smeared his lips and teeth—and stared into the mirror with a cold, feral grin.

Hmm, now it’s right!

He went straight to set still in makeup, catching Fan Xiaopang waiting in the wings—she jumped back several steps, shrieking.

“What the hell is that?”

“Your brother.”

Yan Li lowered his hood, revealing his face. Fan Xiaopang patted her chest, still shaken.

“Isn’t this a comedy? Why’d you make yourself so terrifying?”

“Contrast is what shocks. Imagine kids watching TV, seeing Zhu Bajie fall in love, then suddenly seeing me—wouldn’t they piss themselves?”

Yan Li had found the role’s joy: he aimed to become the childhood nightmare of every kid watching TV dramas.

“What kind of person are you?”

Fan Xiaopang was speechless. She’d been right—he wasn’t good. Even acting, he schemed to scare children. So vile.

Just as she was planning to subtly insult him, she noticed Yan Li watching her, smugly spinning a small circle.

“How’s this? Pretty, right?”

Of all the costumes in “Fortune Star Shines on Zhu Bajie,” Fan Xiaopang was most proud of Jinmao Rat’s look—pure, delicate, lively, radiant—having stunned countless men.

“It’s okay.”

Yan Li averted his gaze. She was truly beautiful—even after the casting spectacle of “Happy Seven Fairies,” he’d been awed by Fan Xiaopang.

But roles were locked; he had no interest in flattery.

“Send me a still later. Your furry design is great—could serve as reference for the Fifth Fairy’s look.”

Fan Xiaopang scowled at Yan Li’s focus on costume, not her.

Yesterday he’d been sweet-talking; she’d still craved more praise, expecting compliments on Jinmao Rat’s design today.

Yet last night he’d called her peerless, slept a night, and now it was “okay.”

Hmph, men!

Yan Li remained unmoved. I didn’t sleep with you—say whatever you want…

(End of Chapter)