Chapter Fourteen: The Audition Opportunity

The things she bought yesterday were all delivered after she returned home.

The once empty house was suddenly half-filled.

She had just prepared to lie down and rest when her phone rang from not far away.

Yun Fu stood up, absentmindedly rubbing her brow, a restlessness in her eyes she could not conceal.

Caller ID: Sister Qiao.

She rifled through the original owner’s memories and recalled that this was her manager—not especially kind, but diligent and conscientious enough.

“Hello.” Yun Fu picked up the phone, then lazily lay back on the sofa, her slender legs crossed on the coffee table, their brilliance accentuated by sunlight.

“Yun Fu, where are you right now?” The woman’s voice was anxious on the other end. “They said you terminated your contract? How did you do it? Did they make you sign any strange agreements?”

“No.”

“Where are you?”

“At home,” Yun Fu replied, switching to speakerphone.

Qiao An felt exhausted. After just a few days apart, why had Yun Fu grown so taciturn?

“Yun Fu, I’ll send you an address. Let’s meet and talk in person.”

She did need to handle these matters. Yun Fu rubbed her forehead, stood up expressionlessly, and answered in a low voice, “Alright.”

—

Café.

Seeing Yun Fu again, Qiao An almost didn’t recognize her.

The girl who once seemed desperate to announce to the world that she was a star—always dressed in the most eye-catching clothes, sunglasses perched on her nose, overly made-up.

Now, she wore no makeup, her hair in two braids, a headband fluttering in the breeze.

She had on only a gray sweatshirt, a pair of jeans, and simple white sneakers.

The hood of her sweatshirt was pulled up, headphones over her ears, her whole demeanor radiating languid indifference. Her lowered brows and eyes were cool and impatient, yet her features remained striking.

“Yun Fu?”

The young woman across from her pulled out a chair, sat down naturally, lowered her hood, and looked up, “Sister Qiao.”

“You…” Qiao An couldn’t hide her surprise. “Why did you terminate your contract? I heard it cost five million. If you really wanted out, we could’ve hired a lawyer and done it gradually.”

Qiao An had seen the news online, but as for Yun Fu’s supposed medical abilities, she thought everyone had secrets—perhaps this was Yun Fu’s. So she hadn’t asked further.

“It’s already settled. Sister Qiao, is there something you need?”

Qiao An’s face revealed a trace of bitterness. “I’ve left the company too. I don’t have many resources anymore. I’d hoped to get you an endorsement, but…”

Yun Fu frowned slightly. In her memory, Qiao An had once been a top agent, but because of Ning Lan’s manager, most of her resources and artists had been stolen away.

She hadn’t expected that Qiao An would now be dismissed outright.

It was obvious Ning Lan was behind it.

Those once-cool eyes were now coated with a thick layer of frost, and deep within that ice, flames began to stir.

Qiao An’s heart trembled. She pressed Yun Fu’s hand, “Yun Fu, don’t do anything rash. Right now, just managing you alone is enough for me.”

Though she hadn’t shown it, Yun Fu was astute enough to see the truth at a glance.

Still, she didn’t mention it. Some things couldn’t be pried out—they had to be discovered on one’s own.

“Yun Fu, now that you’ve left the company, where are you living?” She’d tried persuading Yun Fu before, hoping she wouldn’t get so close to Ning Lan—after all, she’d been burned more than once by her.

But Yun Fu must have been utterly taken in by Ning Lan’s sweet talk and wouldn’t believe a word, even thinking Qiao An was trying to set her up.

Thinking of this, Qiao An sighed, sure Yun Fu was about to make a scene again.

She braced herself for the outburst.

But there was only silence. Qiao An looked up to see Yun Fu leisurely sipping her coffee, frowning in distaste before setting it aside.

“I understand. I’m staying elsewhere now.”

“…Oh, alright. Well…never mind. I’ll arrange work for you as soon as possible.”

This meeting was more harmonious than any they’d had before.

Qiao An began to wonder if it was the company that made Yun Fu so difficult before, forcing her into that persona.

Now that she’d left, was she finally being herself?

Yun Fu didn’t need to explain; Qiao An had already concocted her own explanation.

Back home, Yun Fu logged into that pitch-black website again and entered Qiao An’s name. This time, what appeared wasn’t all in English—there was Chinese as well.

So it was true—Qiao An lost her job because of her.

Shi Daiyu, Ning Lan’s manager, was infamous in the industry—cunning, ruthless, always scheming in the shadows.

Especially after Ning Lan latched onto Du Xingyuan, her resources had only multiplied, and she became increasingly arrogant, looking down on Qiao An, who had always overshadowed her at school.

Thus, when Yun Fu terminated her contract and left, the entire company saw her as worthless, and Qiao An was treated with even less respect.

All her endorsements were snatched away, and even her lesser artists were poached.

Worst of all, those artists were more than willing, leaving Qiao An powerless.

With no value left, Ning Lan dismissed her under some fabricated charge.

After reading this, Yun Fu licked her lips and murmured, “Du Xingyuan, Ning Lan, Shi Daiyu…”

At first, she’d just watched these people as if enjoying a play, but now that they’d harmed someone close to her, she would not let it pass.

She had always been fiercely protective—everyone knew this. Unfortunately, in a new body, no one recognized her or took her seriously.

For the next few days, Yun Fu stayed home, only leaving to eat or sleep, dedicating most of her time to training.

This body was too weak; after all her effort, she had regained only thirty percent of her former strength.

She collapsed on the sofa, too tired to move a finger.

But her phone rang again.

[Little Fu’er, what have you been up to lately? Come visit Grandma when you have time.]

Ever since her shaky hand had accepted Lian Hanqi’s WeChat request two days ago, she’d also connected with Old Madam Lian and then Gu Zhishu, leading to the current situation.

[Old Madam Lian, I’m working.]

[I see. Well, when you’re free, remember to visit Grandma.]

[Okay.]

No sooner had she replied to Old Madam Lian than Qiao An called again.

Yun Fu’s fair, rosy face was now full of impatience and resignation.

“Hello.”

“Yun Fu, I got you an audition.” On the other end, Qiao An’s voice was brimming with excitement, though she couldn’t hide her exhaustion.