Chapter 45: The Triumphant Dong Xuan, the Stunned Huang Shengyi, the Steady Yan Li

“Yan Li actually got you the female lead!?”

In the Beijing Film Academy’s female dormitory, Guan Yue and two other roommates, along with friends like Yin Xu, stared in shock at Dong Xuan, who nodded happily with a radiant expression.

“We start shooting in two days. I’ve already called the homeroom teacher—this trip back is just to pack my things.”

“Wait, I’m a little confused.”

Guan Yue dramatically collapsed into a fainting pose to express her astonishment.

Everyone in her dorm and friends like Yin Xu knew Yan Li had tried to secure Dong Xuan a role—but all of them thought it was nonsense.

Even those moved by Dong Xuan’s emotion harbored malicious suspicions.

This is Yan Li’s trap!

Maybe Yan Li just landed a line producer job and casually recommended Dong Xuan, then took all the credit to manipulate her.

This theory was widely accepted by those who knew the situation, as it seemed more realistic.

Only Guan Yue, out of gratitude for all the braised pork Yan Li had given her, spoke up in his defense, believing he wasn’t that low—she thought he genuinely helped Dong Xuan.

But regardless, all of them agreed the whole thing was implausible.

How could anyone land the female lead so easily!

Take our class as an example—many hadn’t even played a substantial role, let alone a minor supporting part, much less the lead.

Across the entire Beijing Film Academy, the number of current students who’ve landed a lead role in a proper production might be countable on one hand.

Otherwise, that junior who played Wang Yuyan in “The Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils” wouldn’t have caused a sensation the moment she entered campus—these Beijing Film Academy students truly envied her.

Yet, against all odds, Dong Xuan actually got the female lead.

Yin Xu looked at Dong Xuan hesitantly and offered a new theory: “Could it be the production team noticed you first, and Yan Li stole the credit?”

Otherwise it makes no sense—Yan Li’s just a lowly actor with no power or money, hasn’t even landed a lead himself—how could he make Dong Xuan the female lead?

“Impossible!”

Dong Xuan was slightly annoyed by her roommates’ and friends’ distrust of Yan Li, and began counting off on her fingers.

“Look, the production team was Yan Li who found it, the producer was contacted by him, he took me to the audition, even got me the original novel to help shape the character—how is that stealing credit?”

“Later, Yan Li ran around with the producer, built connections, spoke up for me, and finally won him over.”

“Mr. Li himself said there were other candidates who met the criteria—but he chose me because of Yan Li. How can you still blame him?”

Guan Yue and the others exchanged glances, their expressions uncertain.

If Dong Xuan’s account was true, Yan Li had indeed done everything from start to finish—truly deserving of full credit.

This guy really has some skills!

Guan Yue sighed in admiration, Yin Xu murmured in awe, and most others expressed envy toward Dong Xuan.

Men who are unfaithful are hateful—but men who lack ability are even more so.

Most women admire strength; if a man stands firm in a crisis, shields you from storms, and helps you climb to the summit, his flaws naturally fade.

Watching their perception of Yan Li shift, Dong Xuan gave a restrained smile, her eyes gleaming with quiet triumph.

She knew that when she first dated Yan Li, many around her had disapproved.

There was a vast chasm between the undergraduate and vocational classes at Beijing Film Academy—many undergraduates looked down on vocational students.

Yan Li might have had money, but his family was ordinary; aside from good looks, a sweet tongue, and a big… well, he had no real advantages. Dong Xuan had practically sunk to the bottom.

Later, when they broke up and then “got back together,” some even laughed at her, calling her foolish and pathetic, completely under Yan Li’s thumb.

Now? She’s “foolish”—but her foolishness earned her the female lead!

Today, Dong Xuan came back to show off, to prove to them what true wisdom disguised as foolishness looks like, what sharp vision really means.

And also to clear Yan Li’s name!

He’s not some heartless traitor—he’s a man of ability and responsibility, who loves and protects his woman, willing to give silently… an ultimate boyfriend…

“By the way.”

Guan Yue suddenly remembered: “Huyan said that yellow fox girl Huang Shengyi also applied—let’s tell her Dong Xuan got the lead and watch her choke.”

Yin Xu agreed: “Great idea. Let that little bitch know who Yan Li truly cares about.”

Others chimed in: “Yes, really put her in her place—make her realize she has no right to keep bothering him.”

“That’s not right. It makes me sound like I care about her.”

Dong Xuan refused verbally, but her eyes sparkled with eagerness—and so, half-heartedly, she went along.

The news that third-year student Dong Xuan, with her boyfriend Yan Li’s help, had landed the female lead in the wuxia drama that had come to campus spread rapidly through Beijing Film Academy.

————

Beijing Film Academy, a small grove

Jia Nailiang stared at his girlfriend Huang Shengyi: “Why have you been ignoring me these past few days?”

Huang Shengyi replied dismissively: “I’m not feeling well.”

“Where’s it hurting? Let me take you to the hospital.”

Hearing this, Jia Nailiang grew anxious—Huang Shengyi felt a faint warmth inside.

Though Jia Nailiang didn’t understand her like Yan Li did, didn’t seem to reach into her heart, and was less handsome, less fit, and softer in character—he truly cared for her, always indulging her.

Thinking it over, this wasn’t so bad. No need to go crawling back to eat leftovers.

Yan Li had just graduated—he was probably just running errands on set, with no real authority…

Just then, Huang Shengyi’s phone rang. She picked it up: “Hello?”

“What?!”

She seemed to have heard something shocking—her voice rose sharply, startling Jia Nailiang.

“Shengyi, what’s wrong?”

Huang Shengyi shook her head and continued the call, her pale face shifting between light and shadow. After hanging up, she remained dazed.

Jia Nailiang, uneasy, asked again: “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Huang Shengyi forced a smile. Jia Nailiang still worried, urging her to tell him if anything was wrong—he’d help carry the burden.

Had he said this just minutes earlier, Huang Shengyi might have been moved—but now, she simply had no heart for it.

“I’m tired. I’m heading back to the dorm.”

“Let me walk you.”

“No.”

Huang Shengyi hurried off, leaving Jia Nailiang bewildered and uneasy, wondering if he’d somehow upset her.

Meanwhile, away from Jia Nailiang’s sight, Huang Shengyi clenched her teeth, recalling the news she’d just heard, and pulled out her phone to dial another number.

Jimen, bedroom

Yan Li glanced at the caller ID and hung up immediately, then resumed browsing stock information on his laptop.

Since returning to Beijing, he hadn’t just been running errands for Li Peng—he’d kept studying the stock market in his spare time.

As his familiarity with the market grew, his intelligence network gradually began to deliver results.

For instance, the Dell laptop in front of him, worth over 6,000 yuan, was one of his gains from stock trading.

With this laptop, Yan Li could access news anytime, anywhere—giving him even greater advantage in the market.

Right now, Yan Li’s short-term goal was simple.

With a solid base of capital, he wanted to buy a car to take home for the New Year, and prepare good gifts for his parents.

If things went even better, he wanted to stockpile internet cafe licenses, and once connections were made, invest in a few cafes just for fun.

Yan Li had often visited internet cafes while trading stocks, so he’d triggered plenty of cafe-related intelligence.

This business was truly profitable—turn on the machines and it’s a money-printing press!

The key was low effort: once connections were secured, or a partner with some background found, then assign one or two reliable people to oversee things, and just check accounts and count cash—no distraction from his other pursuits.

Yan Li’s family came from small business roots; by habit, he felt stocks were too abstract—real, tangible businesses felt more solid.

He didn’t aim for huge profits—just enough to cover his back. If stocks crashed or acting became too hard, he’d still have a meal to eat.

As always: stability comes first…

(End of Chapter)