Guide to Rising to Power as a Wife in Beijing's Elite Circle

That evening, Fang Jingxiu finished dealing with a tricky coordination matter in his department and rushed to the hospital, exhausted.

Upon entering, I saw that Chen Nuo was not leaning against the bed reading or watching movies as usual, but sitting in a wheelchair by the window, with a script and casting information spread out on the small table in front of him, his brows slightly furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Fang Jingxiu put down his briefcase, walked over, and casually ruffled her hair.

Chen Nuo looked up at him, her eyes filled with worry: "Liu Qingsong just called and said that a very important young actor we had our eye on, whose family had already agreed, suddenly changed his mind today, saying that the child has too much schoolwork and doesn't plan to take the role. This is the third one already... Brother Xiu, is it... because of my injury this time, that there are some bad rumors circulating outside? Or... have I caused you trouble?" Her voice grew softer and softer, filled with uncertainty and self-doubt.

Fang Jingxiu's heart clenched, followed by an even stronger urge to protect him.

He knelt down in front of her, his gaze as steady as a deep pool, decisively cutting off her unease: "Don't overthink it. I'll handle this."

His tone was calm, yet carried an air of unwavering confidence. Chen Nuo stared at him, seeing the unyielding determination deep in his eyes, and the self-doubt that had arisen from repeated setbacks was strangely soothed away.

She knew that the fact that he said "I'll arrange it" meant that the matter would be resolved and that she wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

"Take good care of yourself, thoroughly understand the script, do your homework as a director, and leave the rest," he stood up, ruffled her hair in a natural and affectionate gesture, "to Brother Xiu."

At 5:30 p.m. the next day, a young man dressed in plain clothes but with a capable demeanor came to the ward and handed Chen Nuo a sealed document bag, saying that it was sent on the instructions of Director Fang.

Chen Nuo opened it with a puzzled look. Inside were several actor resumes and information, along with a note in Fang Jingxiu's familiar handwriting, the words bold and clear: "Take a look, you can choose. Don't worry."

The faces on the resumes are all young, some even still looking somewhat immature, but their eyes are either lively or calm, showing that they have been screened to some extent.

What truly caught her eye were the brief, seemingly casual yet deliberately marked personal information notes in the upper right corner of each resume.

Chen Nuo's heart skipped a beat.

Each of these names and titles represents power in a certain field. This is no longer an ordinary actor's resume; it's a series of introductions to relationships and backgrounds. She held the papers in her hands, her fingertips slightly cold.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting dappled shadows on the paper, much like a reflection of this circle and even the wider world, where light and shadow intertwined, blurring the boundaries.

At 7:30 p.m., estimating that Fang Jingxiu should have finished his busiest evening work period and was probably in his office or during a break from some social engagement, Chen Nuo dialed his number.

The call was answered after two rings. The background was somewhat empty and quiet, with the faint sound of papers turning over.

"Feed." Fang Jingxiu's voice came through, carrying a hint of weariness from work, but his tone immediately softened upon hearing her voice. "Still not resting? Did you see the data?"

"Yeah, just finished watching." Chen Nuo held his phone, walked to the window, and looked at the few patients and their families strolling in the garden below. "Brother Xiu, are these people... really capable? I mean, acting... and their identities..."

A soft click came from the other end of the phone, followed by the faint sound of Fang Jingxiu slowly exhaling a puff of smoke; he seemed to have moved to a quieter place.

"Don't worry about their acting skills. I had Secretary Qin do a preliminary screening. They're at least from a professional acting background or have acting experience, and their appearance and temperament fit the young characters in your script. As for their identities..." He paused, his voice sounding somewhat low but unusually clear through the smoke, "Chen Nuo, you need to understand, they need to act in this play."

Chen Nuo held his breath.

"For you, this is a work that exposes reality and carries sentiment. For them, and their families, it's an opportunity." Fang Jingxiu's tone was calm, as if he were analyzing a policy report.

"For those with a 'red' background, who need to cultivate a positive public image, and who want to facilitate their families' next step in getting them into the system or certain sensitive positions, participating in a film with a positive tone, patriotism, and a spirit of reflection is a good way to 'gild' their political image and build their persona. The higher-ups like to see the children of cadres go deep into the grassroots, understand the people's sentiments, and spread positive energy."

He flicked his cigarette ash and continued, "Those from business families are after the opportunity to network with high-level people and the prestige that the film might bring. If the film is a success, the commercial value of the lead actor and the brand image of the family business will both improve. Even if the box office is mediocre, as long as the word-of-mouth isn't bad, they'll still have cultural influence and talking points in certain circles. It's a sure-fire investment, much more worthwhile than simply throwing money at a project."

Chen Nuo was deeply moved.

She never understood casting from this perspective.

"More importantly," Fang Jingxiu lowered his voice, carrying an undeniable sense of protection, "their background is the best shield your crew can have right now. If the Bai family or anyone else wants to trip you up again, they'll have to think twice before they act, considering whether they might simultaneously kick the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology, the State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission, the war zone, or even higher levels. Some rules, when used properly, can be a shield."

Chen Nuo remained silent.

She understood his intention.

This is not a compromise, but rather building a firewall for her within the existing rules of the game, while simultaneously finding a group of actors with their own resources for the film.

It's realistic, even a bit cold, but effective.

"Brother Xiu," her voice was a little tight, "have you been... particularly tired lately? Because of all this?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone; the sound of turning over documents stopped.

Fang Jingxiu seemed to chuckle lightly, a short laugh tinged with helplessness and indulgence: "Nonsense. What's so tiring about this? Whether it's officialdom, business, or even your circle, it's essentially about the flow of resources and the game of rules. Utilizing the rules, or creating rules that benefit oneself, is the norm. Some things are unavoidable, but must be done."

He succinctly summarized his days of maneuvering, compromises, deals, and the pressures he had endured in just a few words.

"But," Chen Nuo said worriedly, recalling some things he knew about the industry, "wouldn't it be purer if... if we used ordinary actors? Wouldn't it be harder to manage those with connections? And wouldn't that be unfair to others? Wouldn't it be even harder for ordinary people to get ahead...?"

Fang Jingxiu took another drag of his cigarette, and this time the silence lasted even longer.

When he spoke again, his tone carried a rare, heavy sense of emotion.

"Nono, you've hit the nail on the head. Fairness?" He repeated the word, with a hint of sarcasm. "In this industry, or anywhere resources are concentrated, there's never absolute fairness. It's incredibly difficult for ordinary people to get ahead. It's not that they lack talent, but rather that most of them are already eliminated at the very first step, in getting opportunities. Even if they manage to get in by sheer luck..."

His voice grew even lower, as if revealing some painful wound: "Do you know how that fairly famous, very handsome actor, surnamed Yu, died a couple of years ago?"

Chen Nuo felt a chill run down her spine. She had vaguely heard some rumors, but had never confirmed them.

"No connections, from humble beginnings, became an overnight sensation. Then a few leaders with peculiar tastes took notice of him." Fang Jingxiu spoke slowly, each word like a sharp, icy blow.

"She was coerced and bribed, but refused. Then she developed depression and committed suicide. The whole thing was done flawlessly. Now, those culprits are still enjoying a carefree vacation abroad. As for China? It's been suppressed; nobody mentions it anymore."

Chen Nuo felt a chill rise from the soles of his feet.

She had heard similar stories before, but hearing them from someone of Fang Jingxiu's status, in such a calm yet confident tone, had a completely different impact.

That was a bloody reality, a cruel truth easily erased by power and money.

"That's reality." Fang Jingxiu's voice pulled her back. "Ordinary people are like a blank sheet of cloth in this melting pot. Without getting stained or relying on something, you can't get mixed in at all. Even if you keep yourself clean, you can't stop others from throwing dirty water on you. Resources, connections, and background are the hard currency in this circle. Acting skills and talent? Those are icing on the cake. It's better to have them, but if you don't, it doesn't always stop you from making money and becoming famous."

He paused, his tone softening, carrying a profound sense of support: "So, Nuonuo, the reason I found these people for you isn't just to shield you from trouble, but also to provide a protective layer for you and your crew. To let them know that behind this project isn't a new, easily manipulated director, but an invisible yet undeniably powerful network. With this network, those underhanded practices won't dare to easily touch you and your team."

"As for what you call purity... Art needs a pure heart, but the process of creating art, especially in this environment, often requires impure means to safeguard it."

Fang Jingxiu's voice betrayed deep weariness, but his determination to plan for her remained unwavering. "I don't want you to become that blank sheet of cloth that needs to be stained. I want you to film what you want to film cleanly. I'll handle these dirty tricks and these calculations of rules. You just need to stand at the height I can support you and reach for your dreams."

Chen Nuo held her phone, her eyes welling up with tears.

She could hear the weariness and helplessness hidden in his words, as well as the heavy sense of protection that was almost overflowing.

He kept the dirtiest and most complex rules of the game outside, creating a relatively clean creative space for her. This support was heavy and realistic, far beyond the realm of romantic notions.

"Brother Xiu..." She choked up, a thousand words stuck in her chest.

"Alright," Fang Jingxiu interrupted her, his tone returning to its usual gentleness, yet carrying an undeniable decisiveness. "Take a good look at the materials. Mark any that catch your eye. Don't worry about anything else; leave it to me. Your task now is to recover and refine the script. Remember, you have me and the Fang family behind you. The sky won't fall."

Long after the phone call ended, Chen Nuo was still standing by the window.

Night had completely fallen, and the city lights spread out like a galaxy. The resume in my hand seemed to carry a different weight.

She understood that Fang Jingxiu had opened a door for her that was forged with special rules.

There may still be storms inside, but at least he cleared the most dangerous minefield for her in his own way.

This is not a victory for idealism, but a refuge for realism.