Sweet Wife in My Arms

Chapter 120: The Taste Of Victory

Yi Ling did not understand at first. She had to think for a long moment. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she threw her arms around Yan Huan.

“Huanhuan, you did it! You did it, didn’t you? We’ve finally landed our first big break! Right? Right?”

“Yes, we finally did it.” Yan Huan lifted her face, blinking back the tears that were threatening to gather in her eyes. It was their first big break, and she was confident that the name “Yan Huan” would be a mainstay on TV, in the magazines, and on the internet in the very near future. Her name would be part of the “trending” list on all the major search engines. She would be a star, just as she had been in her previous life—no, she would climb to even greater heights, and cover even greater distances this time around.

The open audition lasted two days. A few other actresses had tried for the role of Qing Yao after Yan Huan, but none of them had been able to bring Qing Yao to life the way Yan Huan had done. Unsurprisingly, the role of Qing Yao went to Yan Huan. As for Wen Dongni, she had failed to get the role of the secondary female lead, but her “connection” with Associate Producer Chen was strong enough to snag her a minor supporting role. It was an insignificant character, but one that many actresses had coveted because the character would be getting plenty of screentime: she would be introduced early on, and then make frequent appearances throughout the show without getting killed off half-way. Wen Dongni was lucky to get the role.

But Wen Dongni had had her heart set on the secondary female lead. She had to admit that she was not a versatile actress; she did not have the acting chops to tackle some of the other roles, but twisted characters like Qing Yao were supposed to be her specialty. She was by no means a bad actress—she would have dropped out of showbiz long ago if she was actually terrible at acting. She was not a famous star, but most in the industry recognized her name; that was an honor that most other newbie actors did not have.

But the role she was after had been snatched out of her hands by Yan Huan—for the second time.

She demanded an explanation from her manager, and also from Associate Producer Chen, but it was no use.

“It’s out of my hands.” Associate Producer Chen liked Wen Dongni and tried his best to make her happy, but that did not mean he was a pushover. Some things he knew he could help her with, but the rest were completely beyond his control. He was not the type to make promises he already knew he would not be able to fulfill.

“Are you saying that that stunt double is a better actress than I am?”

Wen Dongni’s features were distorted from her uncontrollable anger.

“Do you want to hear the truth?” Associate Producer Chen regretted his decision to help the woman standing before him. She had seemed pretty enough at first—she was his type, in fact—but her unbecoming jealousy now made her seem impossibly ugly. He shuddered at the thought of going to bed with an ugly hag like her.

Wen Dongni was dumbfounded. What did Associate Producer Chen mean by that?

The truth? What truth?

“I think I should be honest with you.” Associate Producer Chen lifted Wen Dongni’s face. “You’re not as pretty or as young as Yan Huan. And—this is the deal breaker—you’re just not as good at acting as she is. Far from it. I know that’s hard to believe, but you’ll see what I mean once filming begins. She’s leagues above you.”

As the saying went: “Ignorance is bliss.” Sometimes, it was better not to know how you compared with others.

Wen Dongni’s face turned an ashen gray as she listened to Associate Producer Chen. Her cheeks were warm with acute embarrassment.

At that very moment, Yan Huan and Yi Ling were celebrating. The company had heard that Yan Huan had gotten the role of the secondary female lead, and had rewarded both women with a significant increase in their monthly stipend. The money came at just the right time to ease Yan Huan and Yi Ling’s financial woes. The agency’s gesture of goodwill at this moment was actually standard industry practice, as Yan Huan would be splitting her earnings 50/50 with the agency in the future.

“Let’s go eat hot pot today.” Yi Ling had, in her excitement, come up with a long list of food to celebrate with: Yangzhou boat dishes, Cantonese cuisine, barbecue… the list went on. She had ultimately decided on hot pot because A) the cold weather was perfect for it, and B) hot pot was cheap, despite the large portions.

“Okay,” said Yan Huan, her eyes disappearing into happy crescents. She lowered her head and gently rubbed Little Bean’s tiny pink nose.

She lifted Little Bean to eye-level and said apologetically, “Sorry, but we can’t take you with us.”

Little Bean stuck out her tiny tongue and licked Yan Huan’s fingers. Yan Huan was worried: what was she going to do with Little Bean if she had to film outside the city for days at a time? Yi Ling would have to come with her because she was her manager, which meant that Little Bean would be all alone at home. How was her little darling going to feed and take care of itself?

Neither Yan Huan nor Yi Ling had close friends they could rely on. Leaving Little Bean in a stranger’s home was completely out of the question; she did not trust amateurs to know how to look after her cat while she was away. Her only option, then, was to board Little Bean at a pet shop with professional expertise.

“Hey, why haven’t you changed?” Yi Ling emerged from her room to see Yan Huan still sitting on the sofa. “We’re going out to eat hot pot, right? Did you change your mind?”

“I’ll go like this.” Yan Huan looked down at herself. Her clothes seemed decent enough; the cotton dress she had on was a simple design that could be worn outdoors and also as pajamas. It was too much effort to change into something else just for a trip to the hot pot restaurant. Who was going to recognize her, anyway? She was still a relatively unknown actress.

She set Little Bean down. She mentally reminded herself to look for a pet shop that would be able to take care of Little Bean for a few days.

Yi Ling brought Yan Huan to a famous hot pot restaurant in their neighborhood. Unlike some of the other bigger stars, Yan Huan did not disguise herself with oversized sunglasses and a face mask. She was not delusional enough to think she needed them at this stage.

“Let’s sit over there.” Yi Ling quickly pulled Yan Huan into the restaurant and found a table. She was glad they had come early; there were only a few other diners about, but she knew the restaurant would be bursting at the seams with diners soon. It would be a nightmare to find a table then.

They sat down and placed their order. Yan Huan did not take spicy food, so they ordered a hot pot with Jiangnan-style seafood broth. As they waited to be served, Yi Ling got out her phone and opened Yan Huan’s Weibo to see if the follower count had increased. Her heart soared as soon as she opened the page: the follower count was steadily increasing, which meant that her efforts had not been in vain. Yi Ling was confident that Yan Huan’s popularity would be launched to even greater heights once Love and Tribulations went on air.

A moment later, a waiter brought them their hot pot. Yi Ling picked up her chopsticks and dug in. Yan Huan, on the other hand, was not as greedy: she had always been a small eater, and was not as picky as Yi Ling when it came to food.

She ate her food slowly, relishing the rich, complex taste of victory as she mulled over her journey so far.

The hot pot restaurant was becoming increasingly crowded. It was a casual neighborhood joint, which meant that most of the diners were the easygoing type who did not care about anything other than the food. Everyone was busy eating; no one ogled Yan Huan, and the owner did not give her a discount just because she had a pretty face.

“Let’s take this spot.” Lei Qingyi lifted a long leg over a stool and sat down without waiting to see if his companions agreed. The stool was uncomfortable; it was not quite big enough for him. To put it another way, Lei Qingyi’s hips were too wide for the stool. He was a massive giant of a man, after all.

One of his companions was a woman in a black suit; she looked like a widow who had just left a funeral. She carefully picked her way to the table where Lei Qingyi sat, as though navigating a minefield. It was obvious that the restaurant disgusted her; she could not understand how anyone could stand to eat in such a messy, overcrowded place.