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Chapter 284: A New Low

“I’m okay with that.” Yan Huan did not mind; as long as Little Bean had food to eat and water to drink, the cat would be in no danger of starving to death. Ye Shuyun had been Yan Huan’s aunt-in-law in her previous life, and Yan Huan vaguely remembered her to be sophisticated and kind-hearted—the type of woman who would never abuse a cat. Little Bean would be in safe hands.

After ending the call, Yan Huan tossed her phone into her handbag. She was ready to leave now.

Su Muran. Mei Rushi. Let’s see who gets the last laugh.

Yan Huan’s lips suddenly curved into a smile. Her eyes, filled with mocking disdain, gleamed with excitement at the prospect of revenge, but it was hard to tell whether she was trying to avenge herself, or someone else.

Once she arrived on the set, Yan Huan found a chair in a corner and seated herself. She watched Su Muran impassively; the latter was in the middle of shooting a scene.

Su Muran was still very young. She had just graduated from acting school, and this was her first time shooting an actual TV show. She acted according to what she had learned in school, but it was clearly not enough: she did not truly understand her character, Mei Rushi.

At that moment, Su Muran was dressed in cheap, shabby clothes. The makeup on her fair face made her look the part, but something was still not lacking from her performance. She tried her best to seem nonchalant and relaxed, but everyone could see that she was nervous: she kept forgetting her lines, forcing Director Jin to yell “Cut!” and restart the scene several times.

Director Jin’s eyebrows were drawn so tightly together they could have crushed a fly between them. He had hoped that Su Muran would turn out to be a dark horse—she had had the balls to ask for the role of the female lead, after all—but it was now clear to him that it had been nothing more than wishful thinking. Not everyone was born to be an actor.

At the very least, Su Muran was evidently not a natural-born actress. In fact, Director Jin had to wonder whether she had actually read and understood the script—she seemed to have an abysmally poor understanding of the role she was playing.

“Cut!” yelled Director Jin.

His sudden shout felt like a bucket of ice water to Su Muran. She was jolted back to reality, right when she had been about to get into character.

“Su Muran, you’re supposed to be a farmer, a poor, orphaned farmer. Not some princess from a wealthy family.”

“Director, I know Rushi is a farmer, but she’s proud and dignified, isn’t she?” Su Muran did not agree with Director Jin. What was wrong with her performance? She was quite sure that she understood the character she was playing: Mei Rushi was a lowly farmer, but she had an air of dignity about her. Su Muran carried herself with the utmost dignity at all times, due to her background and upbringing—she was practically playing herself, so what was the problem here?

“This is a romance, not some kind of reincarnation revenge drama.”

Director Jin’s expression darkened. He was a veteran director with many productions under his belt, but he had never had an actor talk back to him before this. Su Muran was the first.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, Director,” said Su Muran, without actually meaning it. She was quite sure that she was right, and that Director Jin was wrong, but she decided against arguing with him. She did not want to quarrel with the director, not when they had only just begun shooting the show. It would make the rest of the shoot extremely awkward.

Su Muran had failed to realize that she had shot herself in the foot with her inflexibility; her inability to accept the idea that there might be a different way of interpreting her character meant that she was no longer on the same page with Director Jin.

Filming for her scenes progressed at an unusually slow pace. Some of the more difficult stunts had to be performed by a stand-in; Su Muran was simply not up to the task.

Director Jin sighed. He had a feeling that Su Muran was slowly but surely sabotaging his show with her subpar acting.

He desperately wanted to replace her, but he knew that was completely out of the question. Instead, he explained to Su Muran what he wanted from her, to no avail; after several failed attempts at getting her to understand, he gave up and let her do whatever she wanted. It was out of his hands now.

Yan Huan accepted the cup of water Yi Ling handed her and drank it in steady, measured gulps as she considered the situation.

Su Muran was the proverbial newborn calf who was simply too ignorant to be afraid of anything. She acted according to her narrow, limited understanding of her character, and refused to acknowledge there may be other ways of interpreting the role. An actor’s acting skills were largely determined by experience and hard work; in Yan Huan’s previous life, Su Muran had eventually won an Oscar for Best Actress, presumably because she had acted in a number of movies and TV shows by then, and had picked up a thing or two from her A-list co-stars. She had been blessed with well-written scripts as well, which had greatly boosted her chances at winning the award. Nevertheless, Yan Huan was quite sure that Su Muran winning that Oscar had been nothing more than a fluke.

The Su family had helped pave Su Muran’s path towards stardom; therefore, the actress’s journey had been utterly devoid of any kind of hardship. Yan Huan could not understand how Su Muran had gotten an Oscar for Best Actress in her previous life; the movie she had been nominated for had been impressive in many areas, such as plot, music, et cetera, but Su Muran’s performance had not been as good as Yan Huan’s at her peak. Yan Huan suspected that the Su family had pulled some strings for Su Muran to have gotten that award.

Yan Huan was a much better actress now than she had been at the same point in her previous life. But she did not flaunt her talents; she had learned the importance of keeping a low profile. Nevertheless, she could hardly wait to begin shooting her scenes with Su Muran and show the actress how badly outmatched she was.

After shooting for a week, Beauty went on air. The Su family had evidently poured an enormous amount of money into the production: they had bankrolled top-of-the-line equipment and facilities, a top-class director, first-rate marketing, and A-list actors to fill out the supporting roles, just to make sure Su Muran would make a massive, showy splash in her acting debut.

Yan Huan secretly hoped that the Su family would continue pouring money into the project. The higher their hopes, the worse it would be for Su Muran when she inevitably fell flat on her face.

The first two episodes went on air. It was clear from the top-class cinematography, expensive sets, and exquisite costumes that this was a big budget show, but despite the aggressive marketing, the audience did not seem impressed. The lukewarm reception was reflected by the abysmally low viewer ratings.

The biggest, most famous VOD website was streaming the show simultaneously as the episodes aired on TV. Ironically, the comments left on this site were a lot more interesting than the actual show.

“Ugh, that new actress is horrible. It’s totally obvious she only got the part because of her connections. Her acting sucks! She only has two expressions, the wide-eyed look and a pout. Does she even know how to smile? This is a TV show, not some kind of fashion shoot!”

“The cinematography is fantastic, and the plot is passable. But the acting is horrendous.”

“Dropping this after the first episode. Waste of my time. Pointless, over-exaggerated drama just for the sake of drama. How am I supposed to relate to any of the characters?”

“Same, I’m dropping this too. Not gonna waste my time on this garbage. There are better shows to watch.”

The comments section was flooded with scathing criticism for Beauty, despite the aggressive marketing to drum up hype for the show beforehand. But the negative comments did not stay up for long; within a few hours, they were removed and replaced with gushing praise instead.

“I’ve never seen such a beautiful female lead. She’s an amazing actress! This may be her acting debut, but her performance is absolutely flawless.”

“Yeah, the female lead is gorgeous. The story’s great, too.”

“I can’t get enough of this show! I want more episodes!”

“I stay at home all day watching this. This is the only thing on my mind these days.”