Reborn in the Entertainment Industry: This Top Star Has Real Achievements

When Li Xiang sent the text message, he was strolling leisurely through the night market in Daughter City.

The bluestone pavement gleamed from the footsteps of passersby, and red lanterns hung from the stilted houses on both sides, casting a warm glow over the entire street.

He was carrying several paper bags, filled with cured meat sauce he'd picked out for his parents and wooden carvings he'd chosen for his younger brother.

Since joining the crew, he has been spending every day on set, either studying the script or waiting for his turn. He hasn't even gotten to know all the roads around the hotel, let alone going to the night market.

Since I had some free time this time, I naturally wanted to bring back more things.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out and glanced at the message. My senior sister's message, "Have fun, there's a surprise for you when you come back," popped up on the screen.

He smiled, typed "Thanks, senior sister" on the screen, and then casually put his phone back in his pocket.

At this point, it's clear that Director Zhang has also revealed his decision to the core members of the production team.

He looked up at the frying stall not far away, its air filled with the aroma of hot oil and white smoke, and suddenly felt incredibly happy...

After a moment's thought, he decided to indulge himself for a while and strode over to the stall.

On the other side, Director Zhang hurriedly finished his dinner and went to the office conference room to wait for the mother and daughter, Little Yellow Duck. Not long after, there was a knock on the door.

Looking at the little yellow duck before him, now reverting to its simple and innocent look from the interview, Zhang Yimou sighed inwardly.

If he had this level of acting skills on set, things wouldn't have escalated to this point.

In retrospect, the little yellow duck wasn't lacking in spirit, but rather its temperament was too restless.

He suppressed the complicated thoughts in his mind and gestured for the two of them to sit down.

Although she made a mistake, she was the female lead whom he had personally selected and finalized a month ago. The filming wasn't even finished yet, so he had to give her the respect she deserved.

After the two sat down awkwardly, he slowly spoke, his tone so calm it betrayed no emotion: "What are your thoughts on what happened this morning?"

"I've been watching from the sidelines the whole time, and I really don't see what's so great about it. Or is it really like you said, because Li Xiang overshadowed your scenes?"

Even the sharpest-tongued little yellow duck felt its heart pounding under Director Zhang's gaze.

Before she came, her mother repeatedly warned her: "Don't lie, tell the truth. You're young, it's okay to make mistakes, but lying will ruin your life."

The little yellow duck could only lower its head, clutching the hem of its clothes with its fingers, and stammer, "I'm sorry, Director Zhang... It's my own fault for not being in a good mood."

I didn't act as well as him, so when I saw him acting smoothly, I felt... uncomfortable. He put too much pressure on me, which is why I couldn't hold back...

"...So do you think doing this is the right thing to do?" Before she could respond, Zhang Yimou's tone remained calm, yet his words, like a dull knife, continued to speak to himself.

"I know you're under a lot of pressure, but that pressure should be channeled into motivation, not used to take it out on people who are doing better than you."

"Or are you trying to drag him down to your level? To have him do all the takes, slow down the filming, and make this movie take forever to finish?"

Feeling no pressure now? Does that mean this conflict won't happen?

These words were harsh enough that even Huang's mother, standing nearby, turned pale upon hearing them. Her lips moved, but she couldn't utter a single word in defense.

After all, the director was telling the truth. The daughter's resentment stemmed from not being able to stand seeing others succeed. But if that were the case, what would be the point of making this movie?

"Director, I didn't... I really didn't think that much. I just... I just couldn't help myself..."

"Perhaps you didn't think that much about it, but this is the result of what you did. Is it really that hard to admit that others are better than you?"

He leaned forward, his gaze falling on Little Yellow Duck's face, full of disappointment. "You kept making mistakes, and I didn't say anything. I know that's how it is for newcomers."

I had Li Xiang act alongside you to help you get into character, and I even had you two act together a lot to build rapport, all in the hopes that you could get into character quickly. But what have you done?

He paused, his gaze sweeping over her pale face: "Yet you publicly accused him of using connections and flattery. How do you expect him to feel? And what did he do wrong?"

Even if he got in through connections, I'm still very satisfied with him—because he knows to work extra hard and has never delayed the production schedule by even a day.

"And you," he changed the subject, his disappointment evident in his words.

"I personally selected the female lead for a month, who had a legitimate identity, but was always lax and undisciplined."

Instead of looking for the reasons within yourself, you can't stand seeing others work hard. Is that what you really think?

"To be honest, what you did today not only disappointed me, but the entire crew is probably very disappointed as well."

Pressure can motivate, or it can drive you to despair. But you can't try to drag down the person in front of you just because you can't run anymore.

The little yellow duck's tears came "whoosh," but this time it wasn't acting; it was genuine embarrassment.

At the same time, the director's words shattered the stubbornness in my heart.

She really didn't consider the production crew or anyone else; she was only concerned with her own grievances.

"I'm so sorry, Director Zhang..." she choked back tears, her face streaked with sobs.

"I was wrong... I really know I was wrong... I won't do it again. I'll definitely learn my lesson, act well, and never make the same mistake again..."

Huang Ma hurriedly stepped forward, wiping away her tears while nodding, "Director Zhang, don't worry, I'll definitely give her a good talking-to when we get back, and I promise to work even harder from now on."

Looking at the little yellow duck's red, tear-filled eyes, Zhang Yimou didn't say anything more, but simply nodded.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door, and screenwriter Sister Wang walked in with a folder in her hand.

Seeing that the little yellow duck had red eyes, he didn't ask any questions, but simply handed over the folder: "Director Zhang, the revised script."

Zhang Yimou took it, casually placed it on the table, and waved for her to leave first. Sister Wang quietly closed the door, and the room returned to silence.

Director Zhang picked up the folder, tapped his fingertips on the cover, and said to the still-crying little yellow duck, "The crew can't afford to delay any longer, so I had the screenwriter revise it quickly."

He looked up at her, his tone calm and even: "You should also get ready. The scenes to come won't be too difficult, and they should be much easier to film."

These words sounded reassuring, but Little Yellow Duck's heart skipped a beat—

She vaguely understood that behind this "not difficult" situation, something had probably changed.

Not only did the little yellow duck understand, but even her mother could glean the meaning behind her words.

But since the little yellow duck was crying, the mother figured she had to get to the bottom of things, so she carefully asked, "Director Zhang, do you mean... the script has been changed?"

"Hmm," Zhang Yimou responded, picking up the folder on the table and flipping through a couple of pages.

"There were some scenes that she couldn't handle, and the filming was too difficult. I discussed it with the screenwriter, and we made changes to make them easier to film, but there was nothing we could do about it."

He looked up at the two of them, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable sense of reality.

"If this drags on, the crew won't be able to keep up with the daily expenses. Not to mention me, even Zhang Weiping's side might not be able to hold on for long."

These words were like a stone, sealing off any possibility of pleading. The two exchanged a glance, a bad premonition rising in their hearts—

If Zhang Weiping came and knew that the problem was caused by the little yellow duck, how would he handle it?

With that thought in mind, the two dared not linger any longer.

Moreover, the fact that Director Zhang specifically asked the screenwriter to deliver the script at this time clearly indicates that there's no going back on it.

So the mother and daughter awkwardly got up to say goodbye, not daring to utter another word.

Zhang Yimou, however, did not seem to care.

After all, he had seen many ambitious young people since Zhang Ziyi's time.

But ambition must be matched with strength, otherwise it's just a pretty face that's useless.

The actress he chose this time, Zhang Yimou, is clearly not capable enough to match his ambitions.

Thinking of this, he gently closed the folder in his hand and turned his gaze to the window.

The city of Yichang was shrouded in the dim light of night, making it difficult to see clearly.

He knew in his heart that this time, the "Zhang Yimou Girl" was probably beyond saving, but he also had his pride.

Since we can't rely on this place, we naturally have to look elsewhere—and Li Xiang, this "Zhang Yimou's leading man," is perhaps the one worth putting our effort into.