This director only directs blockbusters.

On the third day after Xue Kaiqi returned to Hong Kong, he encountered trouble.

It wasn't anything life-threatening, but it was enough to make her anxious. There was a dinner party she was invited to. If she didn't go, she would offend someone. If she went, she didn't know how she would handle the situation.

When the call came in, she was squatting in her rented room packing her luggage.

She rented this room temporarily. In Hong Kong, where land is incredibly expensive, it's not easy to find a room that, while not large, is relatively clean.

She could see a corner of Victoria Harbour from the window, brightly lit at night, but she hadn't been in the mood to look at it these past few days.

The suitcase lay sprawled on the floor, stuffed full of things brought back from South Africa—

The cosmetics set, the dark blue notebook, and a few pieces of clothing I bought in South Africa—the tags are still on.

These were all gifts from Yang Ning, or purchased when I went out with Yang Ning.

Everything was like a little anchor, pulling her back to those days and reminding her that there was someone in Beijing who was quietly caring for her.

My phone vibrated beside the bed, displaying an unfamiliar Hong Kong number.

Xue Kaiqi stared at the string of numbers for three seconds, then didn't take it. His palms began to sweat.

Five seconds later, the phone rang again.

She took a deep breath and pressed the answer button.

The voice on the other end was that of a middle-aged man, polite yet with an air of authority: "Miss Xue, a gentleman is hosting a gathering tonight and would like to invite you. Eight o'clock, Peninsula Hotel. The driver will pick you up downstairs at seven-thirty."

Xue Kaiqi opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat tightened, and he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

"Okay...okay," she heard herself say, her voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

After hanging up the phone, she squatted on the ground without moving, her eyes fixed on the unopened dark blue notebook.

The notebook was a gift from Yang Ning, who told her to jot down things—her experiences filming, her feelings about life, anything.

That gentleman. The boss of the King's.

She's a nobody, just signed with Warner and hasn't released an album yet, why would she be invited to this kind of event?

She couldn't figure it out.

But she knew that if she didn't go to this event, she would have no future in the Hong Kong entertainment industry.

In Hong Kong, the interpersonal relationships within the entertainment industry are far more complex than in Beijing. As a young girl who had just arrived, she didn't understand many things.

I swiped my finger across the phone screen a few times and found a number.

It belongs to Yang Ning.

She stared at the name for a long time. He recalled his words at the airport: "If you get to Hong Kong and anything happens, come to me. Don't try to handle things on your own."

But it's only been a few days? He's only been in Hong Kong for three days, and he already needs his help?

That's so useless.

She bit her lip and tossed her phone onto the bed. The mattress was soft, and the phone sank halfway in, the screen still lit, that name stubbornly lingering in her sight.

No, I can't do that. That's too pathetic.

But she couldn't suppress the panic in her heart. She was restless, pacing back and forth in the small room, and finally went back to the bedside and picked up her phone.

The screen was lit, and the name was still there.

She stared at the screen, her finger hovering over the dial button for a long time until her knuckles stiffened, but in the end, she didn't press it.

Finally, she sent a text message. She typed rapidly, as if afraid she'd regret it:

"Brother, someone invited me to a dinner party tonight, and I'm not very good at handling those kinds of situations. What should I do?"

She tossed her phone aside after sending the message, too afraid to look at it. Her heart pounded in her chest. She sat on the floor, hugging her knees, burying her head in her arms, feeling utterly useless and pathetic.

In Beijing, Yang Ning and Liu Yong had just finished watching a shot in the special effects studio.

It was an explosion scene from "Dragon Shield," which took three takes to complete, and the room was filled with the smell of smoke and burnt plastic. Yang Ning came out of the monitoring room, his eyes stinging from the smoke, and was wiping his face with a wet towel.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out, glanced at the screen, and then tossed the towel to Liu Yong: "I'm going out for a bit."

The corridor was quiet, with only the low hum of the central air conditioning. He walked to the window, outside which was the special effects company's courtyard, where several prop trucks were parked and a few staff members were squatting and smoking.

He dialed the number.

It rang several times before they answered.

"Brother..." The voice was soft, a little guilty, and trembling, like a frightened little animal.

"Who organized this gathering?" Yang Ning asked, his voice low but clear.

"It's Mr. Yang from Emperor Group."

Yang Ning didn't speak. He went through it in his mind—Emperor Entertainment Group, an important company in the Hong Kong entertainment industry.

This kind of gathering is really beyond what a young girl like Xue Kaiqi could handle. The people at the table are all senior figures, and they speak in roundabout ways; someone with her personality would probably get nervous.

Xue Kaiqi waited a few seconds, and seeing that he didn't say anything, he panicked even more: "I... I just don't know what to do... Maybe I should just cancel it..."

"What are you pushing?" Yang Ning interrupted her.

She was stunned.

"What time is it?"

"Eight o'clock...The Peninsula Hotel..."

"Alright," Yang Ning said, "Go."

"what?"

"Go ahead and be open and honest." His voice calmed down, as if he were talking about something perfectly ordinary. "If someone asks you something, don't answer if you don't want to. Don't drink if you don't want to. It's okay."

Xue Kaiqi opened her mouth but couldn't say anything. She could hear her own heartbeat, thumping so hard it hurt her eardrums.

"And—" Yang Ning paused, her voice softening and lowering, "You'll find out when you get there. Don't be afraid."

The phone hangs up.

Xue Kaiqi was still holding her phone to her ear, listening to the busy tone. Several seconds later, she slowly lowered her hand, her palms sweaty.

Yang Ning's words, "Don't be afraid," were spoken softly, but she heard them clearly. It was like a hand gently pressing on her panicked heart.

She sniffed, stood up, and walked to the mirror. The person in the mirror had slightly red eyes and messy hair, but their gaze gradually calmed down.

She turned on the tap and washed her face with cold water.

At 7:30 p.m., Xue Kaiqi stood at the entrance of the Peninsula Hotel.

She wore that white dress—Yang Ning bought it for her in South Africa, saying it was suitable for formal occasions.

The dress was made of a very fine material with a beautiful drape, which accentuated her slender figure.

Her hair was carefully combed and draped over her shoulders. She wore light makeup, following the instructions in the booklet that came with the cosmetics set, though she wasn't sure if it was correct.

Several men in black suits and headsets stood at the door. Upon seeing her, one of them approached, his manner polite but distant: "Miss Xue? Please come with me."

She followed them inside, her high heels clicking crisply on the marble floor. Her heart raced faster and faster, making her breathless, and her palms began to sweat.

The private room was on the second floor, and the door was made of heavy solid wood, opening silently.

There were seven or eight people sitting inside.

The man in the main seat was a gentleman in his fifties, with his hair neatly combed and a gentle smile on his face.

There were several familiar faces next to her—all well-known filmmakers in the industry—and a few others she didn't recognize.

The table was laden with dishes: lobster, abalone, shark fin, and bottles of wine, both red and white.

The air was filled with a faint scent of cigars mixed with perfume.

Xue Kaiqi stood at the door, her legs feeling a little weak. Remembering Yang Ning's words about being "generous and open," she forced herself to straighten her back and walked in. Each step was steady, though her heart was pounding.

"Come, Miss Xue, sit here." The gentleman smiled and waved, pointing to the empty seat next to him.

She walked over and sat down. The chair was soft, and she sat upright, her hands resting on her knees, her fingertips slightly cool.

The waiter came to pour the wine. Red wine, the deep red liquid swirling in the glass. She said softly, "I...I'm not much of a drinker..."

The gentleman smiled and said, "It's alright, make yourself at home. It's just a get-together with friends today, so don't be shy."

She nodded, and the weight in her heart quietly lifted.