Chapter 23: I, Ling Qiong, Send the Money! (23)
To speak in such a way is certainly offensive.
But the other party was doing it on purpose.
He was watching Lu Wen’s downfall with amusement.
If Lu Wen hadn’t suddenly snatched that role, it would have belonged to him. Seeing Lu Wen’s career falter, he was gleeful and eager to kick him while he was down.
“How can you say that?” The assistant couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I’m talking to Senior Lu Wen. What business is it of a mere assistant like you?” The young man was arrogant and full of himself.
The assistant fell silent, glancing at Lu Wen out of the corner of his eye.
Lu Wen’s head was slightly bowed; his profile was sharp and elegant, delicate strands of hair falling over his forehead and obscuring his eyes, so his emotions were unreadable.
Lu Wen wasn’t particularly angry. Compared to what he’d endured in the company these past two years, this level of attack was nothing.
“Let’s go.”
Lu Wen led his assistant away. The young man didn’t dare chase after them—after all, this was the audition venue. If he left a bad impression, it would do more harm than good.
“Brother, wasn’t he way out of line?” The assistant was indignant on Lu Wen’s behalf. “How can he talk like that? The role was a resource the company found for you, and you won it through an audition, not because you invested in the production. If his acting isn’t up to par, how can he blame others for being too talented?”
For the same price, why wouldn’t they choose a better actor?
The assistant kept chattering, barely giving Lu Wen a chance to reply.
Lu Wen shook his head, “Forget it. It’s not worth fussing over.”
“Brother, you’re way too zen!” the assistant exclaimed.
What’s the point in arguing over this sort of thing?
He’d rather spend that time honing his craft, letting his work speak for him.
Just as Lu Wen and his assistant reached the lobby downstairs, someone called them back, asking them to return upstairs.
...
Upstairs, the young man who had mocked Lu Wen earlier had just finished his audition.
As soon as he stepped out, he saw Lu Wen returning. His brows furrowed, about to speak, but a staff member led Lu Wen directly into a side room.
That room had no sign, and no one knew who was using it.
The other waiting artists were curious and whispered among themselves.
“What’s going on? Why is he back?”
“Who’s in that room?”
“Is it the director?”
“Isn’t the director auditioning over here?”
“Could it be...”
Their gazes grew increasingly strange.
Everyone was just trying to make a living; they all knew exactly what flavors that living could entail.
---
The young man was suspicious and didn’t hurry to leave, lingering outside.
Lu Wen wasn’t inside for long before he emerged, now carrying a thick script.
The young man’s heart skipped a beat—Lu Wen had received the script, which meant...
No way.
If he’d been chosen, they could have announced it right after his initial audition. Why call him back unexpectedly?
Something wasn’t right. There had to be more to this.
...
Lu Wen sat in the car, flipping through the new script.
His assistant was beside him, calling their agent, Chen Fangchuan, to share the good news.
After hanging up, the assistant was still grinning ear to ear, as if he were the one who’d landed the part.
“Brother, why do you think the production suddenly changed their mind?”
Lu Wen was just as puzzled and could only shake his head, “I have no idea.”
“Must’ve been because they saw how brilliant you are!” the assistant said.
Lu Wen fell silent.
The assistant’s joy didn’t last long; suddenly, he screamed, his eyes glued to his phone.
“What’s wrong?” Lu Wen asked gently.
“Brother, look!” The assistant thrust his phone at Lu Wen.
Lu Wen, who hadn’t trended in ages, was suddenly on the hot search.
#Theory of Rising to Power#
The title had nothing to do with him, but the content was all about him—his audition, leaving, then suddenly getting the script.
The gist was clear: he’d gotten the role through hidden rules.
[Utter nonsense. With our brother’s acting, who needs hidden rules?]
[Is Yueying Entertainment about to collapse? Are their artists forced to fend for themselves?]
[Is this true or not? If it is, it’s really unfair to the other actors.]
[Pretty boy using connections as expected.]
[It’s weird, though—Lu Wen used to be so popular. How did he suddenly fade?]
[He has good resources. Maybe someone’s sabotaging him?]
[Snatching resources like this is disgusting.]
These were the milder comments; below were far more vile and offensive remarks.
Lu Wen showed no particular reaction.
The assistant, on the other hand, was livid, launching into a heated online battle with his alt account.
“Brother! Aren’t you angry?”
---
Lu Wen replied, “In our line of work, you have to face things like this. I’ve been prepared for a long time.”
The assistant sighed admiringly, “Brother, your mental strength is incredible. That’s why you’re the star and I’m the assistant.”
Such was the fortitude of an artist!
He saw this and was furious, barely able to stay rational, itching to duel those trolls three hundred times over.
Lu Wen landed the role with his talent, yet strangers only knew how to spread rumors.
The hot search didn’t last long; Yueying Entertainment, flush with cash, soon had it forcibly removed.
Chen Fangchuan quickly drafted a statement for Lu Wen to post.
He clarified that he’d been chosen for his acting, not because of any rumors, and urged everyone to focus on the work, letting talent speak.
Of course, the statement was phrased more subtly, but that was the gist.
After Lu Wen posted it, the production team shared it, showing their support, and the malicious gossip faded.
...
When Lu Wen returned home, his statement had already climbed to the top.
“Wasn’t today lucky?” Ling Qiong greeted him at the door, hands clasped behind her back, smiling brightly.
For a moment, Lu Wen was dazed.
It was like a scene from TV, a wife waiting by the door for her husband to return.
Lu Wen wasn’t sure why such a thought crossed his mind; he quickly suppressed it.
He lowered his head, “Yes, very lucky.” He’d won a role he liked—luck was indeed on his side.
The girl’s smile grew even more radiant; she turned and strolled back to the living room.
Lu Wen followed, and as his gaze swept the dining table, his brows knit. “Why are you eating instant noodles again?”
“My card balance limits my culinary options,” Ling Qiong sighed from the sofa, her face clouded with worry.
“I remember you just received some money a few days ago.”
“That was days ago,” she said matter-of-factly, clapping her hands and spreading them wide. “It’s already gone.”
...
Are you a bottomless pit?
Lu Wen cleared the table. “I landed a role today. Let me treat you to something good.”
The girl replied sweetly, “Okay!”
...
Over dinner, Lu Wen couldn’t help but ask, “You spend money like this—don’t you save any?”
“What for?” she countered, perfectly serious.
“Well... it’s always good to have a bit of savings. You never know when you might need it.”
“Oh, you have a point, but it’s unnecessary.”
Dad’s playing a game—what’s the use of saving?
The ‘coins’ in a game are just strings of numbers; you can’t exchange them for anything. Completely useless, really.