Under Meng Shizhen's piercing gaze, Song Yuan's courage instantly evaporated. She mumbled softly, "Shang Que isn't that kind of person."

How dare she still defend that little author? Meng Shizhen thought Song Yuan had the courage of a lion and leopard, bold enough to challenge the heavens.

"She really isn't like that." This time, Song Yuan was looking at Fang Jiang as she spoke.

Fang Jiang wore a faint, mysterious smile. "Are you implying that your esteemed author doesn't know who I am?"

Could someone truly not know who she was? Living in isolation? A deep-sea monster? An octopus floating in space?

As Fang Jiang's assistant and follower, she had to tread carefully with her words. One misstep could land her in a pit, not only getting her feet wet but also dragging her beloved author down with her. After careful consideration, Song Yuan narrowed her small eyes and flattered fawningly, "Teacher Fang, who in the world doesn't know you?"

Such blatant, shameless flattery.

Meng Shizhen was amused by her assistant's extraordinary performance. "Then tell us, if it's not about money, what is the reason?"

Whether it was Fang Jiang or anyone else, no one had guessed Zhou Zhi's true reason for refusing.

Fang Jiang Studio was a golden brand. Just in the past three years alone, as long as Fang Jiang didn't commit any crimes, any project she participated in would attract investment, viewership, and box office success—there was no worry about it not selling.

Who would refuse such a coveted opportunity?

Who would refuse a money tree?

Who would refuse a treasure bowl?

Either their brain was broken, or their brain was still broken.

Song Yuan was also curious. "Let me check her Weibo."

Like authors, celebrities maintained a public platform—Weibo—to seek exposure and gather fans.

Zhou Zhi was no exception. Her Weibo handle was her pen name: Shang Que. On Weibo, she posted updates about her novels, snippets of her life, and photos of her clever Border Collie: Gangtou Kaihua.

In fact, to be honest, Song Yuan became a die-hard fan of Zhou Zhi because of her dog.

While the internet was dominated by cat lovers these days, Song Yuan was a devoted dog lover. She considered herself a descendant of lost dog planet people and loving earth people—one could only wonder what her parents thought of that.

Given that Gang Kai had exceptionally beautiful eyes, Song Yuan, as a half-kindred spirit, couldn't resist such pure, gleaming dog eyes, the innocent face Gang Kai put on after misbehaving, and an intelligence that surpassed at least two hundred and fifty other dogs.

Carefully opening Zhou Zhi's Weibo homepage, Song Yuan resisted the urge to linger on Gang Kai's photos. She felt she had already exposed enough in front of her bosses and wanted to preserve at least a little privacy.

Zhou Zhi hadn't mentioned Fang Jiang Studio's invitation much. There were two Weibo posts related to the matter around the Spring Festival.

Before the New Year: A pancake falling from the sky? A big pancake? A fried pancake? An iron pancake?

During the New Year: Indecision invites trouble. Such a great opportunity is truly beyond my reach. Farewell.

Song Yuan read the Weibo posts aloud to her bosses, emphasizing the phrase "beyond my reach" to indicate that Zhou Zhi didn't want to take advantage or ride on anyone's coattails.

This reason made Fang Jiang feel thoroughly pleased. Such a self-aware author was truly rare. Originally, her interest in collaborating was only ten percent, but it immediately rose to fifty percent.

Meng Shizhen, however, found the wording and tone inexplicably strange and glanced at Song Yuan.

Song Yuan kept her head down, staring at her phone screen and avoiding eye contact with her boss. Internally, she couldn't help fretting: Oh dear, oh dear, esteemed author, such a golden opportunity must not be missed—it's once in a lifetime! Even burning incense from ten temples couldn't pray for such a chance. Please, please don't act on impulse. Promise me, okay?

The thought of Zhou Zhi having already said no filled her with indescribable frustration and regret.

Whether this young author was merely principled rather than greedy didn't matter—the refusal had been made, and Meng Shizhen was perfectly content with that. She stood up, ready to leave once more.

Then Fang Jiang's infuriating stubbornness flared up again: "Whether she's worthy of associating with me is my decision. If I say she's suitable, then she is. Sister Shizhen, please approach her one more time."

Meng Shizhen gritted her teeth. She couldn't comprehend why Fang Jiang was so insistent on acquiring the adaptation rights for this Baihe novel. If they had to buy rights, why not Yi Shu's Hush or A Complicated Story? Those would undoubtedly be more expensive than some unknown author's work, but at least they came with built-in readership and would be easier to promote.

Taglines like "Yi Shu's first socialist sisterhood novel, exploring urban women's emotional landscapes" or "Following The First Half of My Life, another adaptation of the Grand Madame's work is about to hit the screen" or even "The Grand Madame's take on Brokeback Mountain" would all be preferable to "China's first big-budget yuri TV drama, original work by Shang Que"—which would inevitably be met with comments like: "Who? Who is that? Does anyone know her?"

Meng Shizhen could guarantee with 100% certainty that adapting Yi Shu's novels wouldn't spark rumors about Fang Jiang coming out. But if they filmed that nobody author's work, rival studios would undoubtedly buy hot search rankings claiming Fang Jiang was sponsoring a Baihe author, spending extravagantly for love, and going all out to promote her young "wolf dog" lover.

"Sister Shizhen, perhaps our celebrity status intimidated her. This time, let's send someone else. Xiao Yuan is her reader—have her make contact. Sister Shizhen? Sister Shizhen?" Fang Jiang's softened tone first melted half their assistant's resolve, then seeped into Meng Shizhen's ears.

Meng Shizhen shot her a disdainful look. "Haven't you had enough of this melodramatic act?"

"Xiao Yuan, step outside first." She needed to interrogate Fang Jiang privately—could there actually be some connection with that author? How had she heard nothing about it?

Fang Jiang nodded, and only then did Song Yuan leave their office, carefully closing the door behind her.

"Jiang Jiang, do you know that writer?"

"Why would I know her?"

Meng Shizhen stared into her wide, innocent eyes until Fang Jiang suddenly understood. "Sister Shizhen, wild imagination is a disease."

Sneaking snacks from convenience stores is the real disease, Meng Shizhen thought irritably. "Ancestor, then tell me—why that particular writer?"

"Xiao Yuan said she writes well, and I don't know any others."

"..." Meng Shizhen immediately wanted to drag Song Yuan back and scold her.

"Better to stick with what you know. It's not like it costs much—cheaper than one handbag." While romance scripts next door started at 600,000, here they could secure full rights for less than that. Since they needed someone to write the script anyway, what did the author's identity matter?

"Why Baihe film of all things?"" This was what troubled Meng Shizhen most.

Fang Jiang glanced at her and smiled mysteriously.

Meng Shizhen instantly felt uneasy. "You're not actually planning to come out, are you?"

Fang Jiang choked. "Come out as what? I can't even be bothered to leave my house. Besides, who would I be in a same-se.x relationship with? My reflection in the mirror?"

"With yourself in the bathwater."

Finally, Fang Jiang treated Meng Shizhen to the unforgettable "looking-at-an-idiot" face she'd remember for years.

You have to admit, sometimes the Creator is just so unfair. Even when a rare beauty rolls her eyes, she looks stunning. Meng Shizhen prided herself on being a fashion icon, outstanding enough in their circle that even without makeup, she outshone most ordinary celebrities. But Fang Jiang—Fang Jiang was the kind of beauty you'd spot in a crowd of thousands, the brightest star at the edge of the sky.

"Sister Shizhen." Fang Jiang sat up straight, gazing into Meng Shizhen's eyes. "I'm thirty-four this year. How much longer do you think I can stay popular?"

No wonder they say a serious woman is the most beautiful. Those eyes, which tabloids described as "holding an entire Saha World," fixed on you so intently that even Meng Shizhen, long since jaded by beauty, felt a bit overwhelmed. "Given your current trajectory, at least three to five years shouldn't be a problem. If you're lucky and land a masterpiece, win a major award, you could soar to the heavens."

Fang Jiang chuckled, her smile tinged with indescribable sarcasm. "What major award do you think I could win?"

"Well... ideally the Golden Camel or Bronze Man Award. Even better would be the Golden Palm, Golden Bear, or Golden Lion. Let's not even dream of the Oscars..."

"Sister Shizhen." Fang Jiang half-turned toward the row of awards behind the executive chair. "How do you think we got these? The Style Award, Fashion Award, Most Popular Actress—they rely on popularity and media connections. These Best Actress awards? Only thanks to our peers' lackluster performances. The seemingly most prestigious one, the Golden Peony Outstanding Actress, was only given that one year. How it came about, you and I both know."

"Jiang Jiang..."

"Don't worry, Sister Shizhen. The most important thing in life is knowing who you are. I don't want to be compared to Zhang Ziyi or Zhou Xun for acting—they have what I don't. You know me—I struggle to get into character, especially in emotional scenes."

"Then why did you have to practice by acting in a Baihe drama...?"

"Ah, is that what you thought? Aren't men and women the same? It's not like women have an extra horn that makes it easier for me to get into character."

"Then why?" Meng Shizhen was even more confused. "It can't be because of Xiao Yuan."

If it was, she'd kill her.

"Partly it's fate. Just when I said I wanted to try something new, Xiao Yuan mentioned this author. Secondly, consider it my daily good deed."

"That's quite an expensive good deed. Is there a third reason?" If not, Meng Shizhen was ready to go scold Xiao Yuan.

"Third..." Fang Jiang raised a finger and tapped the desk. "Kikujiro."

Meng Shizhen's first thought: Is Kikujiro a baihe fan? How does Fang Jiang know something I don't? Her second thought...

"Kikujiro is a fervent advocate for LGBT rights! You plan to win him over with this?"

Fang Jiang leaned back in her chair and nodded. As an Asian actress, what could be more supportive of LGBT equality than investing in a lesbian drama?

Kikujiro was an exceptionally talented director, skilled at coaching actors. Recently, rumors surfaced that he was seeking actors for a remake of Takeshi Kitano's Dolls.

The original Dolls consisted of three love stories, set against the breathtaking seasonal landscapes of Japan. For this remake, Kikujiro relocated the scenes from Japan to China, using the country's stunning mountains and rivers to portray love's poignancy and fate's unpredictability.

Previously, Meng Shizhen had contacted him about it, but the director's side hadn't shown much enthusiasm.

Meng Shizhen and Fang Jiang favored this film for three reasons: first, the director; second, the substantial production investment; and third... the actors only needed to perform one segment of the story. For Fang Jiang, whose acting skills weren't quite up to par, this significantly reduced the pressure.

One of the stories featured a female protagonist who, after being betrayed by her boyfriend and surviving a sui.cide attempt by overdosing on pills, became mentally impaired, with very few lines from beginning to end. Moreover, this character was taken by her boyfriend to wander the world, experiencing the scenery of an entire country. For Fang Jiang, who was always busy filming and unwilling to go out during her free time, this was an excellent opportunity.

"Even so, we should discuss with Yi Shu. Adapting her novels for the screenplay would be far better than working with that online writer, wouldn't it?"

Fang Jiang shot her agent a sidelong glance. "You Spendthrift, do you know how much that would cost? Those who don't manage the household have no idea how expensive firewood and rice are."

Meng Shizhen barely restrained herself from hitting her over this stingy and blame-shifting behavior.

"Fine, fine. I'll contact that writer again. But listen, Fang Jiang, no more heart-stopping surprises, okay? Ugh, no. Don't play with my heartbeat, sneaking off to steal things whenever you feel like it—that's illegal. You're Fang Jiang, not Winona Ryder."

"I know, I know. I'm just bored, not sick." Speaking of this matter always put Fang Jiang in a bad mood. It was all that lunatic's fault from last time, who not only made her muster the courage to steal unsuccessfully but also left her with a lingering issue. Every time she entered a convenience store, she'd hear sheep bleating: Baa.

Baa, baa, baa—baa your head.

---

Author's note: Come on, give us a baa.

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