Chapter 870

In the Japanese entertainment industry, is there a very strict standard for being a first-line actress? It is whether you can play the lead role in prime time (i. e., TV dramas from 7 to 10 p. m.), which is the period with the highest ratings, the most expensive advertising fees, and the fiercest competition.

In Japan, the success or failure of a drama primarily rests on the lead actor; the production company and the TV station pour huge investments into a single person, betting on their drawing power, national popularity, and ability to sustain ratings.

Therefore, whether one can secure a prime-time lead role is the hard standard for being a first-line actor.

Japanese dramas differ from those of other countries: other countries' TV dramas often distinguish between male and female leads, and between supporting male and female roles, but Japanese dramas are different—there is only one protagonist in a Japanese drama, either the male lead or the female lead; aside from that, even if a role has the most screen time, it is only the first male supporting role or the first female supporting role, not considered a lead. There is only one situation called "dual lead," meaning two leads, and this situation is relatively rare. A typical example is in *The Full-Time Wife Escapist*, where Aragaki Yui is the female lead, and Hoshino Gen is the first male supporting role. So where exactly does the difference between "big shot" and "first-line" lie?

In short, the difference between "big shot" and "first-line" lies in drawing power.

The so-called "big-shot actress" is someone whose mere appearance can become a "ratings insurance fuse" and spark national discussion—for example, Mai Xuejie, if she appears on a variety show, even if the plot is meaningless or it's just simple chatting and selling looks, the ratings will not fall below 10%.

Another typical example is Kimura Takuya's 2013 "Ando Robot": basically the entire drama belongs to the brainless self-indulgence of a two-dimensional screenwriter, filled with all sorts of meaningless "human-robot romance," "suspense reversals," "melodramatic plots," and "time-space travel"; in the end, no one understands how the male and female leads' romance turned out, shrouded in clouds and mist, leaving the entire audience bewildered, but relying solely on Kimura the Great God's face and charm, the premiere ratings can reach 19%, with ratings throughout staying above 10%.

So everyone always criticizes Kimura the Great God for essentially just playing "Kimura Takuya" no matter what he acts in, but unfortunately, everyone loves this, very much so.

This is what a "big shot" is.

However, Japanese people's definition of a "big shot" is sometimes not as strict as that of a "first-line artiste"—that is, as long as someone can achieve and maintain "big shot" status for a period of time, forming a national memory, then as long as they don't do anything too outrageous afterward, they will still be considered a "big shot." A typical example is Hamasaki Ayumi, who actually began to fade around 2009, but she has always been regarded as a big shot.

Meanwhile, first-line actresses like Aragaki Yui and Hosho, at their most extreme, can have "four-season broadcasts" (i. e., a lead role drama in each of the four quarters of a year), but they are never considered big-shot actresses like that, because four-season broadcasts might have two or three seasons that are all various flops. Aragaki Yui originally had this kind of drawing power—she just needed to face the camera and show her GAKKIsmile, and people would watch whatever she acted in—but in reality, after *Koi Sora*, she consistently lacked a sufficiently representative work; the lead in *Inu no Omae* was Taira Yasuhito, the lead in *Code Blue* was Yamashita Tomohisa, and only until *The Full-Time Wife Escapist* did she truly establish herself as a big shot.

But this person is actually quite lazy—she basically does one drama and one movie per year, and the rest of the time is spent running errands as a homebody. However, this approach for actors actually has its benefits: maintaining mystery and freshness, because constantly appearing in various dramas and before the camera all day long would be quite annoying.

Uesugi Muneyuki himself never accepts any advertisements or endorsements under his personal name; even if he does, it's basically just doing publicity together with Mai Xuejie; he hardly ever appears on other variety shows and rarely participates in publicity, which instead increases his sense of mystery and the outside world's voyeuristic desire.

The Shinkansen sped across the snowfield, and the scenery outside the window had already changed from Tokyo's skyscrapers to the boundless white of the north.

The heating in the carriage was turned up high, a thin layer of water vapor condensed on the glass, and occasionally a water droplet would slide down the window frame, leaving a transparent trace on the white background.

Uesugi Muneyuki leaned against the chair back, his gaze passing over the aisle and landing on the seats several rows ahead.

Aragaki Yui was lowering her head to look at the script, her side profile softened by the light coming in through the car window, her eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyes. Her hair was shorter than when I last saw her on TV, shoulder-length, with the ends slightly curled inward, wearing a light gray knit dress under a navy blue cardigan, making her look as if she had stepped out of a winter special from some lifestyle magazine—calm, gentle, unassertive, yet making people unable to help wanting to look at her a couple more times.

This time she is playing an important supporting role in an Aomori Prefecture SP, dubbed something like "the folk mystery's female detective," engaging in a showdown between orthodox deduction and Mai Xuejie's scientific social deduction.

Mai Xuejie noticed his gaze. She did not turn her head, continued flipping through the magazine in her hand, but her voice floated over lightly, carrying a deliberate, offhand coldness: "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." Uesugi Muneyuki felt a chill.

Mai Xuejie flipped a page of the magazine, her voice still that unhurried tone: "You were staring at Aragaki-san for at least 9.58 seconds just now—an entire Bolt 100-meter dash, I counted."

Uesugi Muneyuki choked a little, wanting to say "I didn't," but the words rose to his lips and he swallowed them back.

He indeed had looked, and for more than ten seconds; he put down his coffee cup, honestly confessed: "Nothing, Mai-sama, I'm just feeling a bit sentimental. Back when I was in junior high, *Dragon Zakura* was airing, and the role Aragaki Yui played was called what again…… Ikeuchi? No, that's Nagasawa Masami. Aragaki played that Ichisaka Ryono? Yes, that's it. Back then she was seventeen, I was still in junior high, and now I'm already in my mid-twenties, and she's in her early thirties. Looking at her, I feel like I've aged too."

"Ah, thinking back, when I, Uesugi Muneyuki, followed Hachiman Taro Minamoto no Yoshie to participate in the Former Nine Years' War and the Later Three-Year Campaign, that was a time of youthful vigor and flourishing talent; now I truly am old and withered~" Uesugi Muneyuki said with a half-smile.

Mai Xuejie finally turned her head to look at him, those bright eyes of hers containing a gaze that seemed to say, "Keep talking, let's see what nonsense you can come up with."

"Well, my meaning is, people like Hoshino Gen have come along……" Uesugi Muneyuki felt a bit flustered under her gaze: "Those two people were inherently off."

Mai Xuejie's eyebrows twitched slightly: "Off?"

"Mm. Look, Hoshino Gen that guy, he calls himself an 'extroverted introvert'—that is, in social situations he can appear very outgoing, very proper, very comforting to be around, but that's not his nature; it's acquired social skills. His essence is introverted, the kind of person who needs a lot of alone time to recharge energy. Such people, when interacting with others, have a kind of 'battery level'; when the battery runs out, they need to hide away to recharge."

Miyawaki Sakura, who had been closing her eyes and pretending to nap nearby, upon hearing this, quietly opened one eye.

Hoshino Gen indeed is that kind of person—he active for a period, then disappears for a period to recharge.

"And Aragaki Yui? She is a typical 'intimacy-avoidant personality'—she doesn't dislike intimate relationships, she fears them. Afraid that getting too close will lead to hurt, afraid that dependence will lead to abandonment, so she always keeps distance, always stays polite, always makes people feel 'this person is easy to get along with but hard to get close to.' Such people need someone who can appear when they need them, yet won't push them closer when they're afraid."

He paused, made his concluding remarks: "Hoshino Gen's kind of 'I can shine in social settings but go limp at home' person is just right to give Aragaki Yui enough safe distance. Their coming together is not accidental, but a necessity of complementary personalities."

The carriage fell silent for two seconds.

Mai Xuejie looked at him, her expression complex, as if wanting to say "You're a forensic pathologist, how do you know so much about entertainment gossip?" and also as if wanting to say "When you analyze others' feelings, you're so clear-headed," but she said nothing, just flipped a page of the magazine, her voice light: "Oh dear~ you know her so well, our National Forensic Medical Excellency? Just like you seemed to know me just as well back then?"

Miyawaki Sakura finally couldn't hold back, let out a puff of laughter. After laughing, she hastily covered her mouth, her eyes bending into two crescent moons.

Mai Xuejie did not laugh.

She closed the magazine, placed it on her knees, turned her body, faced Uesugi Muneyuki squarely, her expression very serious, serious to the point that Uesugi Muneyuki finally realized something was off.

"Uesugi! Muneyuki!" she called his full name, her voice not loud, but each word as if measured with a ruler, precise, clear, leaving no room for doubt: "I have something to tell you."

Uesugi Muneyuki looked at her.

"Aragaki Yui is not an ordinary person."

The air in the carriage seemed to solidify for an instant.

Miyawaki Sakura stopped laughing, both hands holding her coffee cup, her eyes darting between Mai Xuejie and Uesugi Muneyuki.

"You've also been over there for a while, so you should know some people are born with something different." Mai Xuejie's voice dropped very low, low enough that only the two people beside her could hear: "Aragaki Yui is one of them. Her 'GAKKIsmile'—you think it's trained? Is it innate? Is it the result of later effort? Not entirely. The reason that smile can make so many people remember it, so many people feel moved, so many people can't forget it, is because it's mixed with something else. You've probably heard the term 'meme contamination.' Her smile itself is a kind of meme; those who see it get infected, leave an imprint in their brains, and unconsciously want to see it again, laugh again. This isn't her fault; it's her innate 'inner world' attribute. She might not even know it herself, or she might know but never mention it—after all, who would believe such a thing if said aloud?" Mai Xuejie said this, paused, and her gaze at Uesugi Muneyuki became more direct, sharper.

"Her ecological niche is the same as mine."

Uesugi Muneyuki opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but Mai Xuejie gave him no chance.

"I don't need competitors in the same ecological niche. One Minami is already enough to annoy me; another Aragaki Yui? Do you want me to work myself to death? Or do you want me to turn her into another one of your harems?" Her tone remained that unhurried pace, but the words carried the weight of lead blocks: "Uesugi Muneyuki, listen well. However you torment me in the outer world—I don't care, whether it's Minami, Mikoto, Asuka, or that tall beauty female detective in your Special Mission Division, you can love whoever you love. But in the inner world, when it comes to 'that side' of things, your partner is me."

"A female inner world self-generated inner world energy generally begins to gradually decline around age 27, and GAKKI is now roughly at that point, tied to female hormone secretion, and she is currently quite famished!"

She reached out her hand, her index finger pressing against his chest, giving a light poke.

"So stay away from Aragaki Yui! You lecher, bring all your stuff to me!"

"All of yours is mine!"

"Otherwise I'll drag her whole body into the sewer pipe, make it into a several-meter-long Thüringer sausage with a diameter of fifteen centimeters, black pepper flavor, and turn her into a true Okinawa female giant."

Uesugi Muneyuki was poked by her and leaned back against the chair, looking at her face; Mai Xuejie's face showed rare seriousness, even a frenzied possessiveness and a hint of darkening: "I am serious, I have been betrayed three times, I will not joke about this matter. In this inner world, you having me is enough!"

He suddenly felt a bit amused, but dared not laugh.

"Am I that perverted?" he said softly.

"You're not perverted enough?" Mai Xuejie raised her eyebrows: "Who was it that, when alone with me, liked to fling themselves into my arms like a baby, rubbing and nuzzling, whispering 'wow, Mai-sama's black silk is the best'?"

Mai Xuejie had not yet answered, but Miyawaki Sakura beside her had already laughed so hard she bent over, the coffee in her hand nearly spilling. She covered her mouth, her shoulders heaving, laughter leaking from between her fingers, like a cat caught red-handed after stealing dried fish.

"Well……" Uesugi Muneyuki's old face turned red, he shook his head.

Speaking of which, now that Aragaki Yui has appeared, will Suzuki Airi still be far away?

The Four Great Consorts of Tongliao!

Mai Xuejie gave her a white-eyed look, but the corner of her mouth also unconsciously bent slightly: "Do well, this Aomori trip, you'll get to enjoy yourself!" That arc was very shallow, so shallow that Uesugi Muneyuki wasn't sure if he'd seen it correctly.

"Really? I Don't Believe It~"