Chapter 79: For Ji Mei's Sake, I’ll Help You This Once

Chen Fang was full of confidence. The system would definitely sell—there was no doubt about it. Why? Because the system was as broke as he was; in fact, it needed money even more desperately than he did.

Thanks to this, as long as Chen Fang kept his attitude pleasant and didn't haggle the price down to the bone, the system would eventually give in. And so, Chen Fang poured out another stream of flattering words. The system, thoroughly annoyed, finally snapped, “Fine, fine, I’ll sell it to you for eight million—just stop pestering me!”

Chen Fang gave a mysterious smile. Got it!

His phone vibrated; a notification showed eight million transferred from his bank card. Instantly, lyrics and a musical score appeared in his mind. It was done! Now, the drama had its theme song.

The system withdrew into silence again—as it always did after Chen Fang bargained for a song. He was used to this by now.

In the living room of the villa, Su Murou watched Chen Fang resting with eyes closed. Her gaze flickered with hesitation and struggle, but she couldn’t hold back. She nudged him, “Hey, Chen Fang.”

Without opening his eyes, he asked softly, “What is it?”

“Do you really know Director Xi Dong?”

“I do,” Chen Fang replied, as concise as ever.

Su Murou clearly had her doubts, but she still shyly asked for a favor, “Chen Fang, could you introduce me to Director Xi Dong?”

At that, Chen Fang finally opened his eyes, scrutinized Su Murou from head to toe, and shook his head. “Don’t even think about it. No matter how poor Uncle Xi’s judgment gets, there’s no way he’d ever cast you for the sake of… personal favors.”

The truth was swift and sharp.

Su Murou flushed with anger but managed to hold back. “I just want to meet Director Xi Dong and talk about the drama.”

Chen Fang could guess the gist. Su Murou hadn’t landed a role in this drama, and as filming approached, she was anxious, yearning for any part—even second or third female lead.

He didn’t know much about the film and television industry, especially in Huaguo, but judging by the circumstances, Su Murou’s chances were slim to none. A female actor eliminated from the Shanghai scene now hoping to break into the even tougher Beijing circle—it was wishful thinking.

Moreover, Su Murou didn’t seem like someone who would sell herself for a role. Plenty of actresses tried to climb into directors’ beds for parts, yet many still failed; Su Murou had no fame and refused to compromise her integrity, so what would give her a foothold in Beijing?

Of course, such words were too harsh to say aloud.

Choosing his phrasing carefully, Chen Fang advised gently, “You’re still young; there’s no need to be fixated on this one drama. You could try for another.”

“All the other directors want something in return,” Su Murou said. “Only Director Xi Dong doesn’t. That’s why I want to be part of this series.”

Her honesty was refreshing.

Chen Fang nodded. That much was true—Xi Dong had no interest in Su Murou. If he ever did, it would mean he was truly desperate, ignoring his beautiful wife at home to chase after someone as unimpressive as Su Murou.

Since Su Murou was Ji Mei’s close friend, Chen Fang felt he should look out for her a bit. “Uncle Xi doesn’t take advantage of actresses, but have you considered that this makes him all the more demanding about their acting skills? Are you up to his standards?”

The basic requirement for an actor is skill—just as a singer’s foundation is their voice. Xi Dong was old-school; he disliked modern internet celebrities and preferred actors with real talent.

Thanks to this, every one of Xi Dong’s works was highly acclaimed, from casting to narrative control—everything was flawless. He was also known for making last-minute script changes, deleting unnecessary or tedious scenes during filming.

Don’t be fooled by his cheerful demeanor at home; on set, Xi Dong became a different person entirely.

What surprised Chen Fang was Su Murou’s confidence. “My acting is just fine!” she declared, her eyes unwavering.

Seeing this, Chen Fang began to have doubts.

At that moment, Ji Mei emerged from the kitchen carrying dishes. “Time to wash up and eat.”

Chen Fang and Su Murou dropped the topic and went to help with the meal.

Soon, the three sat at the dining table.

“Please, Chen Fang,” Su Murou pleaded, hands clasped together.

Ji Mei asked curiously, “What are you asking Chen Fang for?”

Chen Fang hesitated, and Su Murou grew anxious. “My acting really is good—ask Bonny if you don’t believe me.”

Ji Mei didn’t know what they were discussing, but hearing this, she spoke up for her friend. “Murou’s acting is actually quite good. She filmed plenty of movies in Shanghai, mostly as a supporting actress, but reviews online say she has great potential.”

Chen Fang thought for a moment. “Find the movies you’ve acted in. I’ll watch them, then decide.”

“Alright!” Su Murou was instantly delighted.

It was clear—she had real confidence in her skills.

After dinner, night deepened.

Chen Fang wanted to hold Ji Mei and sleep. Su Murou was considerate enough not to cling to Ji Mei tonight; she went to the guest bedroom, leaving the master bedroom for Chen Fang and Ji Mei.

Good!

Chen Fang silently gave her a nod of approval. For her thoughtfulness, he’d speak well of her to Xi Dong later.

The next morning, as the sun rose, Chen Fang stepped out of the bedroom wearing only shorts, feeling refreshed. Ji Mei was still sleeping.

A moment later, the guest room door swung open. Su Murou emerged with dark circles under her eyes, her gaze lingering on Chen Fang’s eight-pack abs for a few seconds before she feigned nonchalance and complained, “Could you and Bonny be a little more restrained at night? I know you two are young and energetic, but I’m still here, you know.”

Her words were tinged with jealousy.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Su Murou felt a flicker of envy. She wondered if she’d ever find a boyfriend like Chen Fang—handsome, well-built, and, most importantly, healthy.

It seemed unlikely. Each trait alone wasn’t hard to find, but all together—a rare combination.

Chen Fang greeted her with a smile and headed to the kitchen. He didn’t mind being seen shirtless. After pouring a glass of water for Ji Mei and placing it by the bed, he put on a T-shirt and came out. “Find your old movies—I’ll watch them this morning. I’ve got things to do this afternoon.”

Hearing this, Su Murou’s fatigue vanished, replaced by enthusiasm.

There were ten films in total. Of those, she played the lead in two; the rest were supporting roles.

Chen Fang focused on the two starring roles, since they offered the clearest view of her acting abilities.

The morning slipped by quietly.

Chen Fang rubbed his tired eyes.

Indeed, Su Murou’s acting was impressive. Whether conveying emotion or managing subtle expressions, she was nearly flawless.

“Wait for my news,” he said. “I’ll go talk to Uncle Xi first.”

He couldn’t make promises—Xi Dong was the director. At most, Chen Fang could recommend her and put in a good word.