Chapter 11: I, Ling Qiong, Send Money! (11)

Since she had decided to take proper care of him, Ling Qiong knew she had to carefully consider what came next.

“Are you planning to terminate your contract?”

“I don’t have the money to pay the penalty,” he replied. “If I could, I would’ve done it long ago.”

Ling Qiong regarded him skeptically. “With your looks and talent, why wouldn’t the company promote you?”

Anyone with half a brain would see his potential. Was the company run by fools?

Lu Wenci lowered his gaze, nudging a pebble on the ground with his toe.

“When I first joined, the company treated me fairly well. I thought if I worked hard enough, I’d be rewarded. But…”

He kicked the pebble farther away, lifting his head to stare into the distance.

“But sometimes, no matter how hard you try, your efforts just seem ridiculous.”

No one had ever come directly to ask him to do anything. But the resources assigned to him were quietly redirected elsewhere, one after another. His agent had hinted, more than once, that she could arrange a meeting with upper management—no need to elaborate on what that “arrangement” implied.

To put it bluntly, someone in the company had taken a liking to him and wanted him to keep them company. If he went along, he’d have resources, fame, and status. If he refused… well, he ended up like this.

That was how the company operated—they’d never openly force you. But when you realized all your resources had dried up and you were being shoved into cold storage, you’d have to find a way up yourself, even knocking on their door willingly.

At first, the company treated him well, so he’d trusted them and signed a contract that nearly bound him for life. The only way out was a “sky-high penalty fee” standing in his path.

“How much is your penalty?”

“Ten million.”

For a newcomer without any works to his name, even one million was a lot. Ten million was astronomical.

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out for you.”

She still had a few million on hand, and if she sold her car, she could just about scrape together the penalty fee.

But there was no way she’d use her own money for that! Out of the question! How naive! She’d have to find some fool to shoulder the cost.

Lu Wenci frowned slightly, uncertainty in his voice. “You want to help me?”

Ling Qiong’s lips curled into a light, easy smile. “Of course. A promise is a promise.”

“But why?”

The young woman’s eyes sparkled as she answered without hesitation, “Because you’re good-looking.”

Lu Wenci hesitated for a moment before asking, “And if I wasn’t?”

She pouted. “Then why would I bother with you?”

So realistic. So heartless.

As Ling Qiong brushed past her flashy car, Lu Wenci asked, “Aren’t you heading back?”

“Let’s eat something first,” she said, pointing to a restaurant ahead.

“I’ll treat you,” Lu Wenci offered. “Thank you for standing up for me today.”

As for her previous words, he didn’t take them too seriously.

Ling Qiong shrugged, unconcerned, and walked into the restaurant. The decor was quite nice, with curtains separating each table, giving the place a quiet atmosphere.

Lu Wenci left the ordering to her, and as they waited for their meal, she asked, “Why did you join the entertainment industry? Do you like acting?”

Back when the internet wasn’t so widespread, most people didn’t know the cutthroat reality of this world and thought it was a paradise for dreams.

“I wouldn’t say I like it. I just wanted a goal,” he replied, idly turning his glass. “Do you have a dream?”

He didn’t wait for her answer, but continued, “I never had one—not since I was a child.”

When everyone else talked about dreams as children, it all seemed sacred. But for him, he didn’t even know what a dream was.

“So I wanted to find a goal for myself.”

Ling Qiong admired his honesty. “And then you fell into a trap?”

He nodded without evasion. “Yes.”

He’d been too young then, not yet aware of how cruel society could be, how ugly people could become. The company gave him a few crumbs, and he was so moved he believed everything they said. And now, he was left in ruins.

…

“Where do you expect me to find someone for you? And you want it so urgently… Even if you think it’s doable, do they have any openings? Aren’t you just making things difficult for me?”

Song Qingyun, careful not to disturb those around him, kept his voice low as he spoke into his phone. Whatever the person on the other end said made him roll his eyes in exasperation.

“I’ll try to find someone suitable, but I can’t promise anything,” he said before hanging up, muttering under his breath as he got up to pay and leave.

As he stepped outside, he saw a server lift the curtain at the opposite table, and the person inside suddenly came into his line of sight.

The young man rested his chin on his hand, not smiling, but quietly listening to the person across from him. His attention seemed wholly focused.

Song Qingyun’s eyes lit up instantly, as if a pie had fallen from the sky into his lap—an incredible surprise.

As soon as the server dropped the curtain and left, Song Qingyun hurried over, knocked on the wooden frame, and lifted the curtain to enter.

“Excuse me for intruding, but may I ask—are you an actor?”

This was a film city, after all, with crews everywhere. With those looks, it was highly likely.

Lu Wenci was stunned for a few seconds at the sudden interruption.

It wasn’t until the man repeated his question that he politely replied, “Sort of… Can I help you with something?”

Song Qingyun grew even more excited. “Nice to meet you! My surname is Song. Here’s my card… I have a role you might be interested in—would you like to hear more?”

Lu Wenci had his doubts. Was this some sort of scam?

“I’m not a scammer,” Song Qingyun quickly clarified, aware that his opening line sounded exactly like one.

Lu Wenci glanced at the business card. He’d heard of the company—it was well-known in the industry, not one anyone would dare to impersonate.

He stood up, cautious. “Are you offering me an acting job?”

“Yes, yes! I think you’re a perfect fit for the role just from the first glance. Would you like to know more?” Song Qingyun rattled off a string of information in a rush.

Lu Wenci felt like he’d been struck by a windfall and his mind struggled to keep up.

“Talk to me instead,” a voice interrupted.

Only then did Song Qingyun notice Ling Qiong. The young woman looked at him with a gentle smile—beautiful, impeccably dressed, every detail refined, like a well-bred little princess from a castle.

“And you are…?”

“He…” Lu Wenci glanced at Ling Qiong, worried she’d blurt out something like “his mother.”

Fortunately, she only said, “A friend,” and temporarily took charge as his manager.

Though Song Qingyun found this sudden claim of agency a bit odd, he decided to go along with it for now—he just needed to bring the young man back first.

The role Song Qingyun had mentioned was the male lead’s second-in-command. Originally, they’d already cast the part, but due to personal reasons, the chosen actor had to withdraw. Now the entire crew was short a male second lead and urgently needed someone to fill in.

“Of course, while I think your look and temperament fit the role perfectly, you’ll still need to pass an audition,” Song Qingyun added, coughing lightly. “We do require a test of your acting skills.”