Chapter 50: The Disgrace of the Imperial Shadow-Men

Time passed day by day, until at last September 30 arrived—the day before the film’s release.

—

“See that girl? She’s the one who’ll do anything for a pretty face—the one who acted in *All In*!”

“Her? What a disgrace. I can’t imagine what she was thinking. After acting in Director Cheng’s movie, her whole career is probably ruined.”

“It’s not just her own reputation she’s dragging through the mud. She’s humiliating our entire school along with herself. Who knows how the students at the Beijing Opera Academy will mock us this time? They’ll definitely say that people from the Imperial Film Academy will do anything to become famous.”

“I feel sick just being at the same school as someone like her!”

“It would be one thing if she could actually become famous from it. But can anyone become famous by acting in a Cheng Cheng film?”

“Just wait and see. Once her movie comes out tomorrow, she’ll become the laughingstock of the entire school!”

“She is rather pretty. What a waste.”

“If you ask me, she simply has no idea how little she’s worth. Didn’t you hear? A production crew once came to our school to cast actors, and they took a liking to her. But apparently she thought the script was too terrible and demanded too many sacrifices, so she turned them down. And guess what? She went three whole years of university without a single role! I used to think she was just too proud to lower herself. Turns out she was merely waiting for the highest bidder! She kept believing some bigger director and some bigger production would come looking for her. But while she waited and waited, she became worthless. Hahahaha! In the end, she had no choice but to act in a movie like this.”

“She should have just given in to that director back then.”

“Who can say otherwise? People never realize what they’ve lost until it’s gone.”

“If she’d given in to that director, she might already have become a major star. That would still have been better than acting in this kind of movie. Heh heh. I suppose this is what happens when someone thinks too highly of herself.”

“Serves her right!”

The midday sun was slightly dazzling as it poured over the campus of the Imperial Film Academy, just as it did every day.

Yan Gou’er, dressed in a white dress, walked lightly along the tree-lined path toward the cafeteria.

The heels of her little black shoes tapped softly against the flagstones, playing a graceful melody that drowned out the noisy, irritating voices around her.

Director Cheng was enduring the abuse of tens of thousands of viewers in his livestream while promoting *All In*. What did these whispers matter by comparison?

“Auntie, I’d like four ounces of rice, please.”

At the cafeteria window, Yan Gou’er placed her tray before the serving counter and spoke brightly to the woman ladling out the food.

Her voice was as clear and lovely as two jade pendants striking gently against each other.

“Coming right up!” The cafeteria worker served her the requested portion of rice, then urged her, “Eat a little more, dear. Look how thin you are. It breaks Auntie’s heart.”

At the Imperial Film Academy, the cafeteria workers liked delicate little girls like her, the sort who resembled pure white flowers. They were nothing like those garishly dressed, vulgar seductresses who looked improper at first glance.

“Thank you, Auntie.”

Yan Gou’er smiled and offered a simple word of thanks.

She went to another window for a bowl of soup and a vegetable dish. Then, remembering the cafeteria worker’s concern, she added a meat dish as well before finding an empty seat.

People around her kept turning to look at her. Their mocking voices were entirely unrestrained, as though they were deliberately making sure she heard.

“What a disgrace!”

“She still has the nerve to eat in the cafeteria.”

“If I’d acted in a movie like that, I wouldn’t even have the face to call myself a student of the Imperial Film Academy.”

Yan Gou’er ate in small, unhurried mouthfuls.

When she had finished, she cleared the table and carried her tray away.

Someone spat behind her.

“Bah! I wonder if she’ll still put on that act once she’s been ruined and exposed for what she is!”

—

When Yan Gou’er returned to the dormitory, she had not yet reached the door when she heard Ling Qi and Xing Fei talking inside.

“I really don’t know what Yan Gou’er was thinking. A friend asked me today whether the person from our school who acted in Cheng Cheng’s movie was from our dorm. I didn’t even know what to say. How could she choose such a terrible film?”

“Hahahaha, who knows what goes on in her head? We’ve got Wang Hong and Yan Gou’er in this dorm. You have to admit, that’s pretty amusing.”

“It really is. One’s a slut, and the other’s a blind dog. Hahahahahaha!”

“Do you think Yan Gou’er believes we’re narrow-minded, and that she alone has the insight to recognize a masterpiece? Maybe she’s fantasizing that the movie will become a hit once it’s released.”

“That’s entirely possible. She’s always putting on airs. She spends all day clutching a book, acting as if she’s different from the rest of us. What’s she trying to prove? Just looking at her makes me sick.”

“Heh heh. This is going to be fun. We can enjoy watching her expression. I wonder what it feels like to act in a terrible movie and get cursed by the entire internet.”

Yan Gou’er paused for a moment outside the door, her body stiffening slightly. Even so, she pushed it open and walked in, her eyes fixed straight ahead as she returned to her own place.

Ling Qi and Xing Fei both jumped.

“Yan Gou’er, you—you’re back? How long have you been there? You didn’t hear what we were saying, did you?”

Xing Fei hurriedly added, “Yan Gou’er, it’s not that Ling Qi and I meant anything by it. We just feel that, as students of the Imperial Capital Film Academy, we should at least act in films made by respectable directors, no matter how desperate we are. We can’t bring shame on our school, right?”

Ling Qi nodded as well. “Exactly, Yan Gou’er. We’re only saying this for your own good. We truly don’t mean any harm! We’re people of the Imperial Film Academy. Those three words should outweigh everything else. We ought to have some principles.”

Yan Gou’er’s chest rose and fell. Her pearly teeth bit lightly into her lip, while her delicate hands slowly clenched into fists.

Even in the face of vicious rumors, slander, and speculation, she had never experienced such a violent surge of emotion. Yet the seemingly well-intentioned advice from Xing Fei and Ling Qi filled her with genuine fury.

At last, she understood the anger and helplessness Wang Hong had felt.

She wanted to scream at them:

What do you know?

What do pampered young masters and young ladies like you know—born into affluent families, raised in comfort, and given advantages far beyond what ordinary people could ever hope for?

Do you know how impossible that casual phrase of yours—“no matter how desperate we are”—sounds to people like us? If given the chance, who wouldn’t want to act in a famous director’s film? Who wouldn’t want the finest opportunities?

But do we have a choice?

We have no choice!

Why do you get to seize every opportunity and enjoy every advantage, only to stand on the moral high ground and condemn us?

Why do you get to tell us that we chose wrong?

Why?

Yan Gou’er drew a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

In the eyes of the powerful, the anger of the weak was nothing more than an amusing joke.

She sat down, opened her book, and said calmly, “Then let the facts speak for themselves.”

“What?”

Ling Qi had not heard her clearly.

Xing Fei had heard every word, and looked startled.

Yan Gou’er did not answer again. She quietly began to read.

Sunlight filtered through the window and fell across her face in mottled patches. Her eyes were clear and luminous, her snow-white skin as delicate as fine porcelain. Her lips were pressed together slightly, carrying a trace of resolve and determination.