Tianyao Entertainment's headquarters,Vincent walked through the lobby in a simple white blouse and black slacks,He'd pulled his hair into a neat ponytail and wore minimal makeup.
The receptionist did a double-take. "Miss Yu?"
"Conference room ten, right?" Vincent asked pleasantly.
"Y-yes, but—"
He was already heading to the elevators. No time for small talk.
"Host, your heart rate is elevated," Bai Yun observed. "Nervous?"
"I'm about to walk into a room full of people who think I'm a spoiled, talentless brat," Vincent thought back. "What do you think?"
"Just remember: you're not Yu Li anymore! You're Vincent, master of ghosting and commitment issues!"
"That's not the inspiring speech you think it is."
The elevator doors opened on the tenth floor. Vincent took a deep breath and walked toward the conference room.
Through the glass walls, he could see them: Manager Chen, pacing like a caged animal. Director Wang of 'Autumn Moon,' arms crossed and scowling. Two company executives. And—
Vincent's steps faltered.
Ren Jingchen sat at the head of the table in his wheelchair, expression unreadable.
"Why is HE here?" Vincent
"Oh! Didn't I mention? Ren Jingchen is the investor and executive producer for 'Autumn Moon'! Fun fact!"
"That is NOT a fun fact!"
"Also, he has the power to fire you!"
Before Vincent could flee, Manager Chen spotted him through the glass and practically yanked the door open.
"You're late," he snapped.
"Traffic," Vincent lied smoothly, walking in with more confidence than he felt.
All eyes turned to him. The executives looked disappointed. Director Wang looked ready to murder someone. And Ren Jingchen...
Ren Jingchen's dark eyes just looked at him, and is expression cold.
Vincent sat down in the only empty chair—directly across from the Film Emperor. Of course.
"Now that everyone's here," Director Wang"let's address the elephant in the room. Yu Li, your behavior has become a liability."
"I understand," Vincent said calmly.
Director Wang blinked. "You... understand?"
"The incident last night was unprofessional. I apologize for the negative publicity."
Manager Chen's jaw dropped. This was definitely not how Yu Li typically handled criticism.
"Apologizing doesn't fix the problem," one of the executives—a severe woman in a power suit—interjected. "Our investors are concerned. The public perception is that you're unstable."
"Then I'll change their perception," Vincent replied
"How?" Director Wang laughed bitterly. "By throwing yourself at Ren Jingchen again? By crying for the cameras?"
Vincent felt a flash of anger but kept his voice level. "By being a better actress."
"You?" The director's tone dripped with skepticism. "Yu Li, with all due respect, you've gotten every role through your father's money. Your acting in the first three episodes was... barely passable."
Ouch. But fair.
"I know," Vincent admitted, and the shock on everyone's faces was almost comical. "I relied on connections instead of skill. That was wrong. But I want to change that."
"People don't just suddenly become talented," the executive said dismissively.
"No," Vincent agreed. "But they can work to improve. Give me one week. Let me re-shoot my scenes. If I'm still terrible, I'll withdraw from the project myself. No compensation needed."
Director Wang leaned back, surprised. "You'd walk away from a role your father invested ten million yuan in?"
"If I'm not good enough, then yes."
Manager Chen looked like he might faint.
Throughout this entire exchange, Ren Jingchen hadn't said a word. He just watched Vincent with those intense dark eyes, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
Finally, he spoke. "Why?"
Everyone turned to him.
"Why the sudden change?" Ren Jingchen's voice was quiet but commanding. "Last night you were hysterical. This morning you're... different."
Vincent met his gaze directly. "Because I'm tired of being pathetic."
Something flickered in Ren Jingchen's expression—too quick to identify.
"One week is too long," the director said. "We're already behind schedule—"
"Three days," Ren Jingchen interrupted. "Give her three days to re-shoot the throne room scene."
Vincent's heart skipped. That scene was one of Yu Li's worst performances—a crucial moment where her character, the Emperor's sister, had to convey grief, anger, and political cunning all at once. Yu Li had played it like a soap opera villain.
"If she fails," Ren Jingchen continued, "she's out. If she succeeds..." He looked at Vincent. "We continue as planned."
"Producer Ren—" the executive started.
"Three days," he repeated with finality.
Director Wang sighed. "Fine. But Yu Li, don't make me regret this."
The meeting ended shortly after. As people filed out, Vincent stood to leave.
"Yu Li."
He turned. Ren Jingchen had wheeled closer, and they were suddenly alone in the conference room.
Up close, the Film Emperor was even more devastating. Sharp jawline.small scar on his left temple—from the accident, Vincent's inherited memories supplied.
"Thank you," Vincent said quietly. "For giving me a chance."
"Don't thank me yet." Ren Jingchen's expression was unreadable. "I didn't do it for you."
"Then why?"
"Because I want to see if you're actually serious or if this is another manipulation tactic."
"It's not," Vincent said. "I know you don't believe me. But I'll prove it."
He turned to leave.
"Yu Li."
Vincent looked back.
"What you said last night..." Ren Jingchen paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "About staying out of my way. Did you mean it?"
Vincent thought about the mission. About needing to raise favorability to 100. About how every romance guide ever said "give them space" was actually terrible advice.
But looking at Ren Jingchen's guarded expression, at the walls built so carefully around him, Vincent knew pushing would only make things worse.
"Yes," he lied. Sort of. "I meant it."
[Ding! Ren Jingchen's favorability: -45 → -40!]
Ren Jingchen studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. "Good."
As Vincent left the building, Bai Yun chimed in. "Host! You got another five points!"
"By promising to stay away from him," Vincent thought wryly. "This is the weirdest seduction mission ever."
"All great love stories start with mutual dislike!"
"Name one."
"Pride and Prejudice! Elizabeth and Darcy!"
"...Okay, you got me there."
Vincent pulled out Yu Li's phone and scrolled through her social media. The comments were brutal:
She's so desperate lol
Ren Jingchen deserves better
Just quit acting already
Rich girl playing at being an actress
His jaw tightened. Three days. He had three days to prove everyone wrong.
______
"Again."
Vincent collapsed on the apartment floor, sweating and gasping. "I've done this scene fifteen times—"
"And you'll do it fifteen more!" Bai Yun chirped. "The system training room doesn't accept mediocrity!"
The "training room" was a mental space Bai Yun had created where Vincent could practice scenes without physical exhaustion—except his brain was exhausted, which somehow felt worse.
"From the top," Bai Yun commanded. "The Emperor just told you your son is a traitor. You have ten seconds to convey shock, denial, grief, and the calculation that you need to protect your family's position. Go!"
Vincent stood, smoothing imaginary robes, and began the scene again.
"My son would never—" His voice cracked convincingly. He let tears well up (emotional recall: thinking about his dog dying when he was twelve) while his eyes darted to the side (showing calculation). His hands trembled (grief) but his spine stayed straight (political training wouldn't allow a princess to crumble).
"Better!" Bai Yun said. "Your micro-expressions are improving! Now let's work on the second half where you have to threaten the Emperor while crying—"
"Can I please have a water break?"
"You're in a mental simulation. You don't need water."
"My soul needs water."
Day One, 3 PM:
Manager Chen had arranged for a private acting coach—a severe woman named Teacher Liu who'd trained several award-winning actresses.
She watched Vincent run through the scene once, face expressionless.
"Again," she said.
He did it again.
"Again."
And again.
"Again."
On the seventh run-through, Vincent's voice was hoarse. "Teacher Liu, could you tell me what I'm doing wrong—"
"Everything," she said flatly. "Your posture is wrong. Your breathing is wrong. Your emotional beats are off by half a second each time. You're thinking about acting instead of BEING. Again."
"System, is she always this brutal?" he thought.
"Teacher Liu has a 95% success rate in improving actors! The other 5% quit!"
"I can see why."
But he ran the scene again. And again. And again.
By 8 PM, something shifted. He stopped thinking about each movement and just... felt it. The character's pain, her desperation, her political cunning.
Teacher Liu's expression changed—just slightly. "Acceptable. Tomorrow, 9 AM. Don't be late."
After she left, Vincent collapsed on the couch.
[Ding! Acting Skill: Beginner → Intermediate (12%)]
"Progress!" Bai Yun cheered.
Vincent groaned. "This is harder than any job I've ever had."
"But more rewarding! Speaking of which, you have 127 new hate comments!"
"Please stop helping."
Day Two, Morning:
Vincent arrived at the training studio at 8:55 AM
Teacher Liu was already there. "You're late."
"I'm five minutes early!"
"If you're not fifteen minutes early, you're late. Begin."
This time, she made him do the scene while balancing books on his head ("posture!"), while doing breathing exercises ("projection!"), and while she threw tennis balls at him ("focus under distraction!").
"This is insane," Vincent muttered, dodging another tennis ball.
"Film Emperor Ren trained under me for two years," Teacher Liu said coldly. "He never complained."
Vincent's competitive streak flared. "Fine. Throw faster."
Day Two, Evening:
Vincent was browsing through Yu Li's laptop when he found a folder labeled "RJC" with hundreds of photos.
Photos of Ren Jingchen. At events. Leaving buildings. On film sets. Some were clearly taken from a distance with a zoom lens.
Vincent"She was stalking him."
"The original Yu Li was very dedicated!" Bai Yun said.
"This isn't dedication. This is obsession." Vincent deleted the entire folder. "No wonder he hates her."
He opened Weibo, considering damage control. But anything he posted now would seem like excuse-making or attention-seeking.
Better to let his acting speak for itself.
His phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number:
Good luck tomorrow. - RJC
Vincent stared at the screen.
Ren Jingchen had his number? Of course he did—they were in the same production. But why message him? Why wish him luck?
[Ding! Ren Jingchen's favorability: -40 → -35!]
"Host, that's interesting," Bai Yun mused. "He's watching your progress."
Vincent typed back: Thank you.
Teacher Liu says you're working hard.
So Ren Jingchen had been checking in with the coach. Vincent smiled slightly.
(She's terrifying.)
(She made me cry once.)
(Film Emperor Ren crying? I don't believe it.)
(I was 20 and arrogant. She humbled me.)
This was the longest conversation Vincent had ever had with the male lead. He should stop now, not push his luck—
(What did she do?)
(Made me recite lines while doing push-ups. I collapsed on the fiftieth rep.)
Vincent laughed out loud. The image of the cold, perfect Ren Jingchen collapsing during training.
(She's making me dodge tennis balls.)
(That's new. She's evolving her torture methods.)
(Lucky me.)
A pause, then:
(Your scene is at 2 PM tomorrow. Studio 7.)
(I'll be ready.)
(I know.)
The conversation ended there, but Vincent stared at those two words for a long time.
I know.
Not "you'd better be" or "we'll see." Just... quiet confidence. Like Ren Jingchen actually believed he could do this.
[Ding! Ren Jingchen's favorability: -35 → -30!]
Vincent fell asleep that night with a small smile on his face.