Huahai Entertainment – Yin Ru Studio
Yin Ru lounged on the sofa, a lazy puff of smoke drifting from her lips; her entire posture oozing indulgent detachment. That is until Ye Ping stormed through the door, snatched the cigarette from her hand, and snapped, “Look at your state! How many times have I told you? This stuff is off-limits!”
“It’s just a cigarette,” Yin Ru said nonchalantly. “What’s the big deal?”
“A cigarette? Do you even understand how important your voice is as a singer? Smoking and drinking wreck your vocal cords! And don’t give me that—it’s not just a cigarette, is it? There’s something in it, isn’t there? A-Ru, I’ve been your manager since your debut. I don’t want to watch you self-destruct.”
Yin Ru didn’t argue. She idly twirled a lock of hair around her finger, her attitude one of complete indifference.
Ye Ping sighed, clearly frustrated, but finally got to the point. “I just received the updated red carpet lineup and seating arrangements for the Golden Wheat Awards. Your spot’s been replaced.”
Yin Ru shot upright. “What do you mean? By who? Didn’t Shen Hui drop out because she’s pregnant?”
“Not Shen Hui. Lu Tingchuan.”
“Lu Tingchuan?” Yin Ru was even more shocked. “He’s from the film industry! Why is he even fighting us for the final red carpet spot?”
Ye Ping’s face darkened. “He’s going with Xia Shi.”
Yin Ru froze, then her brows furrowed. “Xia Shi? She can’t even sing anymore. Her voice is shot—can’t hit the highs or the lows. What right does she have to attend the Golden Wheat Awards, let alone close the red carpet?!”
The Golden Wheat Awards were the most prestigious music awards in the Chinese-speaking world. Yin Ru was well-known in the domestic music scene, but she’d always lived in the shadow of Shen Hui. Even when people called her “queen,” it always came with the qualifier “little.” Every year, at every major awards show, Shen Hui had always outshined her.
This year was finally supposed to be different. Shen Hui wasn’t attending due to pregnancy, and Yin Ru had gone all out—custom gown, PR strategy—ready to take center stage.
And now this?
Yin Ru clenched her jaw. “Xia Shi again. It’s always Xia Shi!”
She’d been outshone during the talent show days, then again when they were both under Shengshi Records. Back then Xia Shi at least had the talent to back it up, but now?
“Why?! WHY?!” Yin Ru exploded in rage.
Ye Ping didn’t sugarcoat it. “Because she has Lu Tingchuan backing her.”
“Oh, so Lu Tingchuan’s untouchable now? Just because he’s a two-time Best Actor and one of the ‘Big Three’ in the film industry, he gets to throw his weight around like this?!”
“If that were all, it’d be impressive, yes—but not quite enough to make the Golden Wheat organizers reshuffle everything on short notice. Don’t forget, he owns 11% of Qin Tang.”
Yin Ru’s face shifted.
Ye Ping continued, “He’s a major shareholder at Qin Tang—one of the three biggest film companies. And more than that, he’s a partner at Huan Yu Capital. Their recent investments have been hugely successful. He’s not just a celebrity; he’s a power player.”
Yin Ru clenched her teeth. The bitterness nearly choked her, but she couldn’t let it go. After a long silence, she said coldly, “Ping-jie, what do you think would happen if people found out that Xia Shi used Lu Tingchuan to steal my red carpet spot?”
Ye Ping blinked. “You’re thinking of…?”
“We’ve got contacts at marketing accounts, don’t we? And this Lu Tingchuan-Xia Shi ‘secret marriage’ drama is all over the internet right now. If we drop a little hint, stir the pot… there’s no way it won’t blow up.”
Yin Ru’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “What? She thinks landing Lu Tingchuan means she’s made it? Please. The higher you climb, the harder you fall. Lu Tingchuan might be influential, but this is the internet age. No one’s immune. Xia Shi’s just asking for it. Let’s not forget—he’s got tons of fangirls. They’ll rip her apart for this.”
Ye Ping hesitated, clearly wanting to say something. Before she could, Yin Ru added, “What? You’re gonna tell me not to mess with Lu Tingchuan? Fine. If you won’t help, I’ll find someone who will.”
Ye Ping was silenced. With a sigh, she changed the subject. “I spoke with people at Lemon TV. TIME really is attending. I pulled a few strings. Since they’re rearranging seats anyway, I had your seat moved next to hers.”
Yin Ru’s eyes lit up. “Really? Thank you, Ping-jie!”
Ye Ping smiled. “Make the most of it. Try to build a relationship with TIME. A-Ru, you’ve got talent. If you can just quit all this stuff and gain her support, you can make a comeback. Even if that doesn’t work out, I’m still trying to get you the second lead in Fengshen. We can pivot to acting. Please, promise me you’ll stop. Don’t end up like Xia Shi. She was lucky to bounce back—and she had Lu Tingchuan. Not everyone has that kind of talent or that kind of luck.”
That last line ignited Yin Ru’s fury.
“You admire Xia Shi so much—why don’t you go be her manager? Not that she’d want you!” Ye Ping fell silent, letting out a long sigh.
Yin Ru seethed. Shen Hui. Xia Shi. Why always them?!
What did that mean—not everyone has the talent, not everyone can get a Lu Tingchuan?
Lu Tingchuan?
Please. She didn’t even want him.
The Night of the Golden Wheat Awards
As the most prestigious music award in the Chinese-speaking world, the Golden Wheat Awards were packed with stars. Practically every major name in music was in attendance. The red carpet and ceremony were being broadcast live on Lemon TV and the top two streaming platforms in the country.
Liang Jing, 17, a regular high school student, finally had a night off from her cram school classes. She invited her friends Xie Ning and Yuan Yuan over. By 6 PM, they were all gathered in front of the computer, snacks in hand, ready to fangirl and complain.
Yuan Yuan, a die-hard Yin Ru fan, was furious when she learned her idol had lost her red carpet finale slot.
Xie Ning rolled her eyes.
“She’s never closed before. What’s the big deal now?”
Yuan Yuan nearly flipped the table.
“Because it used to be Shen Hui! With her level and status, I accepted it. But Xia Shi?! She’s a has-been! The only reason she’s relevant again is because she latched onto Lu Tingchuan. And Lu Tingchuan of all people—he was always the one who valued talent above all. What the hell did she do to him?!”
Liang Jing looked like she might cry. She’d been a fan of Lu Tingchuan since elementary school. Yuan Yuan’s words hit like a punch to the gut. She didn’t mind him getting married—but seeing him being insulted all over the internet hurt.
The hate online was endless. He was called a liar for hiding his marriage. A sellout for helping Xia Shi get the finale spot. Some posts even dragged his ancestors into it.
Her face flushed with anger as she twisted her snack bag.
“He must’ve been swapped with a lookalike!”
Liang Jing choked up. Yuan Yuan, seeing her like that, felt almost guilty. She’d only lost a red carpet spot. Liang Jing was going through it.
And Lu Tingchuan? He’d been posting like crazy.
Lu Tingchuan V: She’s incredible. You’ll never know just how amazing she is.
Lu Tingchuan V: We’re happy.
Lu Tingchuan V: It’s not her clinging to me. It’s me clinging to her.
Lu Tingchuan V: If you like me, then wish us well. If you can’t, then stop liking me. We don’t owe anyone an explanation for our happiness—and we won’t allow it to be questioned.
Yuan Yuan sighed.
He used to only post about work. Now he was out here publicly defending his wife and calling out fans. The fanbase was basically being mass-fired by their idol!
Liang Jing cried harder.
Lu Tingchuan, how could you?!
Did having awards make you this bold? The haters were twisting your words and raining hell on you!
Where was your refined prince image? Since when were you a cocky little devil?!
Only Xie Ning’s eyes sparkled.
“Am I the only one who thinks Lu Tingchuan is hot as hell? I might be switching fandoms. He stood up for Xia Shi during the worst of it. That’s real man stuff. And he’s right—they’re happy. What does it have to do with us? Honestly, those keyboard warriors need to chill.” She sighed.
“Anyway, enough drama. Weren’t we all here for someone?”
Yuan Yuan and Liang Jing blinked. “TIME! OMG—TIME!”
Even though only Xie Ning was a true fan, the other two were still excited. Everyone was curious about this legendary, mysterious music producer.
They stared at the screen.
“Wait… wasn’t TIME not listed on the red carpet lineup?”
Then the camera panned to Xia Shi and Lu Tingchuan in the waiting area. Xia Shi wore a sapphire-blue gown with glittering star-like accents, hair in soft waves, and one ear adorned with a diamond-studded tassel earring. She leaned into Lu Tingchuan, fingers intertwined with his, whispering something as he smiled down at her with that ridiculously smitten look.
The three girls froze.
Even Liang Jing had to admit—Xia Shi looked stunning. And the two of them together… they really did look like a match made in heaven.
But she bit back the words.
The host’s voice came back.
“Now, let’s welcome the most highly anticipated and mysterious figure in the music world—any guesses who it is?”
Everyone already knew. Who else could it be but TIME?
“But weren’t Xia Shi and Lu Tingchuan already shown?” Liang Jing muttered, confused.
The host grinned.
“That’s right—it’s our queen of queens, the godmother of pop, the legendary TIME! Please welcome our honored guests… TIME and her husband, Lu Tingchuan!”
Her husband.
HER husband.
Not “Lu Tingchuan and his wife”—but “TIME and her husband.”
The entire world seemed to freeze.
Xie Ning clutched Liang Jing’s arm. “So… so… Xia Shi… is TIME?!”
Liang Jing dropped her chips. All three of them stared blankly at the screen, minds blown.
Even the bullet comments disappeared.
The barrage of live chat had gone completely silent.
It was like the world stopped. Even the photographers hesitated for a beat—before regaining their professional instincts and unleashing a flurry of camera clicks.
And all the while, the media couldn’t stop screaming inside.
The show had just begun.
