This director only directs blockbusters.

She walked to the window and pulled back the curtains a little.

Outside on the training field, the actors were still practicing. Huang Xiaoming was climbing a rope net, Fan Binbin was practicing combat, and Zhou Xun was running laps.

"How's their training going?" Xu Qin asked.

"Not bad." Yang Ning walked to her side. "You're getting the hang of it."

"Where's Fan Binbin?"

Yang Ning paused for a moment, then said, "It's fine."

Xu Qin turned to look at him: "You two are asleep?"

Yang Ning did not deny it.

Xu Qin smiled and shook her head: "I knew it. That girl's gaze towards you was off."

"Your eyes look even worse."

"Me?" Xu Qin raised an eyebrow. "I was angry."

"And now?"

"Now..." Xu Qin thought for a moment, "I'm still angry, but not as angry as I used to be."

She turned to face him.

"Yang Ning, I'm helping you not for anything from you. But don't take me for a fool. You need to show me the respect I deserve."

"clear."

"I'll call you every week from now on, not for anything else, just to let you know how things are going," Xu Qin said. "I've been in this industry for over ten years, and I still have some connections. If something really happens, I can help you."

"it is good."

Xu Qin looked at him and suddenly reached out to touch his face.

"You've lost weight."

"I'm tired."

"Serves you right." She withdrew her hand. "You chose this path, you have to finish it, even if you have to crawl on your knees."

She took a lipstick out of her bag and applied it while looking at the reflection in the glass window.

After applying the cream, I pursed my lips.

He turned around and said, "I'm leaving."

"Are you leaving already?"

"Otherwise what?" Xu Qin laughed, "Stay here and watch you revise the storyboard? I don't have the time for that."

She walked to the door, put her hand on the doorknob, and turned around.

"By the way, there's a fashion charity gala next week, lots of media and investors will be there. Bring Fan Binbin along, let him make an appearance."

Why bring her along?

"Because she's the female lead, and she's currently very popular," Xu Qin said. "It's also a chance for people in the industry to see what level the people you, Yang Ning, have brought up are at."

"OK."

"I'll have the dress delivered." Xu Qin opened the door. "I'm leaving. Oh, by the way, I'll be coming to train in a week, but don't push me too far, I don't want to become a muscle woman."

The door closed.

Yang Ning stood by the window, watching her walk out of the building and get into the car.

.........

Yang Ning got up early that morning. The phone rang, and he glanced at it. It was Xu Qin, reminding him to be careful when going to the charity and not to cause any trouble.

"Okay, received."

When Yang Ning finished replying to the text message and looked up, her breath paused almost imperceptibly for a moment.

Fan Binbin is walking out of the dressing room.

A black halter-neck maxi dress accentuated her breathtaking curves, and the slit in the skirt revealed her snow-white legs swaying gently with each step.

The white against the black silk was particularly striking, and Yang Ning felt a certain nerve being gently tugged—it was the most instinctive appreciation and restlessness of a man.

She swept her long hair to one side, and as she looked up at him, her eyes sparkled with a hint of satisfaction at completing her makeup, and a subtle provocation. She waved her small, diamond-encrusted handbag: "Borrowed. I'll return it tomorrow."

Yang Ning subtly adjusted her posture, making the subtle tightness of her trousers less noticeable: "Was the skirt borrowed too?"

"Mine." She approached, her cool fingertips tracing his collar. "Your tie is crooked."

The subtle scent of bitter orange and cedar wafted over, a familiar yet unfamiliar fragrance emanating from her.

He was so close that he could see the curve of her eyelashes and the delicate shadows on her collarbone.

"Nervous?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Yang Ning clicked his tongue inwardly—what a pointless question.

How could a woman who had walked the international red carpet and seen all the big occasions in her past life be stage-frightened?

Fan Binbin laughed and withdrew his hand: "It's just walking the red carpet. It's not like I've never done it before."

"That's right. But this time it's different." Yang Ning raised an eyebrow, his smile carrying a hint of mockery.

"I know." She took his arm, her grip neither too tight nor too loose. "This time it's with 'director Yang Ning, who directed 1.3 million films, and starred Fan Binbin,' right?"

Her tone was gentle, but Yang Ning could hear the unspoken meaning and teasing in it.

In the banquet hall of China World Trade Center Phase 3, crystal chandeliers cast dazzling light.

The red carpet was packed with reporters, their cameras and microphones gleaming.

As soon as Yang Ning and Fan Binbin got out of the car, the sound of camera shutters came crashing down on them like a sudden storm.

The flashes created a blinding white light, momentarily dazzling the eye.

"Fan Binbin! Look this way!"

"Director Yang! When will filming begin for your new movie?"

Is this your first time working together?

Fan Binbin raised a standard and bright smile, waved, and walked steadily without stopping.

She was already confident and composed in these situations.

Yang Ning followed her rhythm, his face showing little expression, only occasionally nodding slightly in the direction of a few familiar media outlets.

He could sense the scrutiny behind those cameras—curiosity, disdain, and mostly cold indifference, waiting to see what would happen.

Stepping inside, the temperature dropped sharply. The air conditioning was strong, soft background music played, and the air was filled with the aroma of champagne and exquisite food. Quite a few guests had already arrived.

Yang Ning's gaze swept across the room and recognized several familiar faces—people he had seen repeatedly in documents and reports in his previous life.

The heavyweight directors of the Fifth Generation were not present; most of those present were middle-aged and rising stars.

Several production company owners were huddled in a corner, talking in hushed tones. When they saw him come in, they glanced at him almost imperceptibly before turning back without a trace of emotion.

"Over there." Fan Binbin tilted his head slightly and pointed with his chin to a table by the window, "Lu Chuan."

Yang Ning looked in that direction. Lu Chuan was talking to someone; he was in his early thirties, wearing a dark-colored Chinese-style stand-up collar shirt, and holding a wine glass in his hand.

He gestured quite dramatically as he spoke, and a few words drifted over: "Artistic...market...no compromise..."

"He just won the Huabiao Award for Best New Director," Fan Binbin added in a low voice. "He's been riding high lately."

Yang Ning hummed in response, neither confirming nor denying.

The two chose a table to sit at. The waiter came to pour drinks, but Fan Binbin only ordered a glass of juice.

"Won't you have something to drink?" Yang Ning asked.

"Training starts at six tomorrow morning." Fan Binbin glanced at his champagne glass. "You should drink less too."

Yang Ning smiled and pushed the cup away.

The banquet began as usual. The host gave an opening speech, followed by the organizer's remarks, and then the charity auction.

The auction items were mostly personal belongings donated by celebrities—luxury watches, handbags, and autographed photos. Bidding was lukewarm, and the atmosphere was somewhat subdued.

Yang Ning looked down at his phone; a text message from Lao Xu popped up: "How's it going? Anyone got the nerve to come looking for trouble?"

"The situation is calm for now."

"Stay vigilant. Rumor has it that those bastards have been looking down on you for a long time."

Just as I was about to reply, the empty chair next to me was gently pulled out. A light and delicate fragrance wafted over first, not strong, like white flowers after the rain.

Yang Ning looked up and saw Li Xiaoran gracefully taking her seat.

Her light gray dress made her look very simple and elegant, and the way the skirt swayed when she sat down had an indescribable grace.

She loosely tied her long hair up, with a few stray strands hanging down her neck, swaying gently with her movements.