This long take was something Yu Jingming thought would take several tries to get right, but surprisingly, it went smoothly!
Not a single actor messed up; they all performed perfectly.
“Cut!” Yu Jingming said. “Let’s shoot a few extra angles, then take a break!”
Everyone was in high spirits—having no NGs was the best outcome.
After her scene, Chi Yan chatted with Qiu Sisi.
“I told you, your acting is great. Director Yu is very satisfied.”
Chi Yan smiled and changed the topic, asking, “Can you take a picture for me?”
It was time for her to engage with her fans again—if she didn’t post on Weibo soon, the netizens might forget who she was.
Qiu Sisi took Chi Yan’s phone and asked, “Hey, you don’t have any beauty filters on your camera?”
“No,” Chi Yan was momentarily confused. In her past life, these things had always been handled by her assistant. Since she wasn’t signing with Qianmeng this time, she probably wouldn’t cross paths with that assistant again.
“Then use mine,” Qiu Sisi handed back Chi Yan’s phone and pulled out her own, opening a beauty filter app. “Strike a pose.”
“How about we take one together?”
Qiu Sisi agreed immediately. “Sure!”
Taking pictures as a girl required the right stickers, the right poses—sometimes even taking dozens of shots wasn’t excessive. Then came the editing process… And since both Chi Yan and Qiu Sisi were public figures, they had to be extra cautious.
In the end, the whole process took nearly half an hour. But the two of them were still excitedly discussing which filter looked best.
“Alright, alright,” Chi Yan finally put a stop to it. “Let’s just pick two and post them. If we keep going, we won’t have any time left.”
Qiu Sisi hesitated, tapping her phone. “They all look so good… I want to pick this one, but I also want that one.”
Chi Yan chuckled. “Then I’ll just post two at random.”
Qiu Sisi wouldn’t allow that. She carefully selected the two best ones and sent them to Chi Yan.
“These two. Post these.”
Chi Yan agreed and asked, “What’s your Weibo handle?”
After following each other, Chi Yan immediately posted:
Chi Yan: First day on set, hanging out with the adorable Miss @QiuSisiNotSisi! [heart emoji] [Image 1] [Image 2]
Fans responded enthusiastically as soon as they saw her post.
“Congrats on joining the production, Yan Yan! You got a role even before the competition ended! [strong emoji]”
“As expected, pretty people always hang out with other pretty people! Yan Yan is gorgeous, and so is the lady next to her! [lemon emoji]”
“What role is she playing? Her outfit looks like she’s from the grasslands?”
Chi Yan replied to the comment asking about her character:
“I’m playing a princess sent for a political marriage. [Sansa jumping emoji]”
“Oh, we should’ve told Director Yu,” Qiu Sisi suddenly realized. “That way, the official Weibo account wouldn’t have to make a separate announcement.”
“Ah,” Chi Yan exclaimed in surprise. “The official account already reposted it.”
[Film The Great Sheng Dynasty Official Account]: Here’s our Princess Jiayin~ //@ChiYan: …
The official Weibo rarely posted promotional content. Their previous posts had only been about the film’s launch and casting announcements. When they confirmed the leads, they made a joint post about them. But now, they had specifically reposted Chi Yan’s post—making it clear that she was different.
People who knew that Yu Jingming was one of the four judges on The Path of an Actor quickly connected the dots.
As a result, negative comments about Chi Yan began surfacing.
These posts started gaining traction and even made it to the trending list.
The hashtag #TheImportanceOfConnections climbed into the top ten trending topics. While the phrase itself didn’t directly mention Chi Yan, the most liked and commented posts under it were all indirect accusations against her.
The production schedule was packed, leaving no time for side issues. The crew was also short-staffed, making things even more chaotic.
So, at first, no one noticed the online backlash.
By the time they did, rumors were already spreading—claiming that Chi Yan had used her looks to seduce Yu Jingming to get the role. The words used were outright disgusting.
Qiu Sisi, tasked with keeping Chi Yan in the dark, stuck to her like glue all afternoon, making sure she didn’t check her phone.
“Don’t look at your phone! Let’s discuss the script instead!”
Chi Yan agreed immediately and got into a heated discussion with her.
Meanwhile, Yu Jingming took a moment between work to post on Weibo:
[Director Yu Jingming]: Regarding the online rumors about my relationship with Miss Chi Yan—I’ve already contacted my lawyer. If anyone continues to spread defamatory statements, they can talk to my legal team.
The lawyer had already sent legal notices to gossip bloggers spreading the rumors, and most of the defamatory posts had been deleted.
Yu Jingming was worried that this might affect Chi Yan’s performance, so he decided to keep it from her for now and planned to tell her during dinner.
The afternoon’s filming went smoothly. Aside from the online drama, Yu Jingming had no complaints.
After wrapping up her final scene for the day, he approached Chi Yan.
“Don’t pay too much attention to what’s being said on Weibo. There will be even more of this kind of thing in the future. I’ve already asked a friend’s law firm to handle it, so don’t take it to heart.”
This strange statement puzzled Chi Yan. But knowing that Director Yu never spoke without reason, she decided to check her phone and see for herself.
Her call log had exploded—her mom, her uncle, her aunt, and even Chi Hongzheng had all called one after another. Several pages of red missed call notifications were neatly lined up, making for quite a spectacular sight.
Chi Yan called her mother back first.
“Mom, I just finished filming today. Why did you call me?”
There was a moment of silence on the other end before her mother’s voice came through, endlessly gentle. “Yan Yan, when are you coming home? I made pork rib soup today, come back early.”
“Okay.”
“If work is too exhausting or if you ever feel like you can’t hold on, just come home. I can take care of you.”
Chi Yan suddenly understood—her mother had probably seen the online attacks against her and was worried but didn’t want to pressure her. So instead, she simply asked her to come home for dinner.
After hanging up, Chi Yan ignored her uncle and Chi Hongzheng for the time being. She checked Weibo first. Before arguing with them, she needed to understand the whole situation.
In reality, the criticism didn’t affect her anymore. After all, she’d experienced much worse in her past life. Compared to back then, she now felt calm—even a little amused.
Netizens this time around were much weaker in their attacks than the ones she had faced before. After coming to that conclusion, she switched to her call log and called her uncle.
Her uncle tried to subtly probe about her relationship with Yu Jingming.
Chi Yan responded directly, “Uncle, did you see those things online? They’re just marketing accounts stirring up drama! Look, they deleted everything—doesn’t that just prove their guilt?”
She settled things with her uncle in just a few sentences. But Chi Hongzheng, now that was a real headache.
Just then, his call came through.
Chi Yan answered, “What is it?”
“Chi Yan! You’re coming to work at the company tomorrow!” Chi Hongzheng was furious. “Anyone who doesn’t know the situation would think I, Chi Hongzheng, can’t afford to support my daughter, so she has to sell her body! You need to stop this nonsense!”
“Those are just rumors. Instead of helping your daughter handle the situation, you’re scolding me—is that what a father should do?” Chi Yan knew exactly how to deal with him. She wouldn’t confront him head-on just yet—not until she had a stable footing. It was too troublesome.
Chi Hongzheng fell silent for a moment at that piercing question. When he spoke again, his tone was less aggressive. “I didn’t think about that… But Yue Yi said all those posts were deleted.”
That was exactly what Chi Yan wanted to hear. She immediately said, “Since they’re deleted, why bother? The truth speaks for itself—you taught me that.”
“You—!”
“I signed a contract. If I stop filming, I’ll have to pay a penalty, and I don’t have the money.”
“If you don’t have money, do you think I don’t? Our family isn’t short on cash!”
“I don’t want your money. Alright, I’m hanging up. Since the rumors are gone, it doesn’t affect you anyway.”
Without waiting for a response, Chi Yan hung up immediately.
The more she spoke to Chi Hongzheng, the more suffocated she felt. If she continued, she might just start cursing him out.
She quickly packed up her things and took a taxi home.
On the way, she checked her WeChat messages and saw that both Shen Chen and Wang Ying had texted her.
She opened Wang Ying’s messages first.
“Your trending topic is really something, but make sure to handle the negative press properly. Also, after signing the contract, if you start dating, you must inform me immediately.”
“This director seems like a good guy—he took care of everything for you. You two can probably work together again in the future.”
“Once the contract is signed, I’ll help promote your role. That’ll bring in more fans.”
Chi Yan thought for a moment and replied: “Yes, I’ve already decided to join Director Yu’s team for the competition. Thanks for your concern, Sister Ying.”
Then she switched to her chat with Shen Chen and found that he had sent her a screenshot of a conversation.
Chi Yan clicked on it and saw that it was Yu Jingming asking Shen Chen to help handle the rumors, saying he owed him a meal. Shen Chen had replied that he’d bring her along.
Shen Chen also messaged: “Let’s have dinner together sometime?”
Chi Yan replied: “No problem, thanks for your help, Senior.”
She hadn’t expected Yu Jingming and Shen Chen—two people who seemed completely unrelated—to actually know each other. And judging by their conversation, they seemed pretty close.
She went straight to Yu Jingming and asked, “Director Yu, how do you know Shen Chen?”
Yu Jingming first replied with a simple “…”, then said, “We’ve known each other since we were kids. My mom and his mom are best friends.”
Then he asked, “That last time you trended, was it because of his influence? Did you study finance in undergrad? You don’t seem like it.”
“It was indeed thanks to Shen Chen. We went to the same university but studied different majors—I majored in journalism.”
“Then you were born for this industry. Work hard.”
“Thank you, Director Yu. I will.”
Chi Yan reopened Weibo. Earlier, she hadn’t taken a proper look at the fan comments, but now she was curious.
She expected to see comments like “she’s canceled” or “I can’t believe I supported someone like this.” After all, she had no works to her name yet—her only selling points were short hosting clips and her looks. She wouldn’t even be surprised if all her fans left.
But what she didn’t expect was that instead of dropping, her follower count had actually increased.
Even though she knew some of them were just here for the gossip, she was still surprised.
This was a clear sign that this life was completely different from her last one. She was no longer stuck playing the role of a villainous supporting actress, nor was she being bombarded by hate from the entire internet.
She even saw a top comment under her latest Weibo post that had been upvoted the most:
“Stay strong, sis! I don’t believe the dirt they’re throwing at you—I believe in you!”
Over 70,000 likes and more than 200 replies.