Rebirth: A big star falls in love with me

"Director Zhang," she said softly, "you filmed it really well. Scenes in the rain are the hardest to film, but Chen Chen acted very convincingly."

Zhang Yu didn't even turn his head: "She's always been very professional."

"Really?" Liu Yan chuckled, her body almost pressed against his back. "But I've heard... that overly professional actors are often quite boring in real life. What do you think, Director Zhang?"

Her breath brushed against Zhang Yu's ear, carrying a warm, fragrant scent. Her body beneath the dark green cheongsam was soft and warm, the sensation penetrating the fabric. Zhang Yu stiffened, taking a step to the side: "Miss Liu, we're working."

“I know.” Liu Yan took a step forward, her red lips almost touching his ear. “I just wanted to discuss acting with Director Zhang. What kind of roles does Director Zhang think I’m suitable for?”

Her perfume was rich and sensual, mixed with the fresh scent of rain, creating a strange allure. Zhang Yu could feel the softness of her breasts almost touching his arm, a touch that was ambiguous and provocative.

Not far away, Chen Chen watched this scene, her fingers tightening slightly beneath her moon-white cheongsam. But she didn't move, simply watching quietly.

Bai Bing and Shu Chang also saw it. Shu Chang muttered to herself, "That Liu Yan is so bold..."

The white soldier didn't speak, but his eyes turned cold.

Gao Yuanyuan stood a little distance away, her beige trench coat swaying gently in the drizzle. She watched Liu Yan's actions, a faint, sarcastic smile playing on her lips. This blatant seduction was too low-class.

Liu Yifei, however, paid no attention to any of this. She was focused on Chen Chen's performance, her eyes filled with admiration: "Sister Chen Chen acted so well...I want to be like that in the future."

At this moment, Zhang Yu finally made a move. He turned around to face Liu Yan, his eyes calm but with an undeniable coldness: "Miss Liu, you are suitable for playing the kind of... outwardly glamorous, inwardly empty role. Like Chen Bailu in 'Sunrise,' glamorous yet lonely to the bone. But the difficulty lies in portraying that 'emptiness'—not superficial affectation, but a deep-seated, bone-deep confusion about the meaning of life."

His words were like a bucket of cold water poured over Liu Yan's head. Her smile froze, and her expression changed: "Director Zhang... what do you mean by that?"

“The literal meaning.” Zhang Yu’s tone remained calm. “Ms. Liu, if you want to go further in this industry, you might as well spend more time studying acting, rather than… studying how to attract men.”

These words were too blunt and too hurtful. Liu Yan's face darkened completely, her expression shifting from charming to embarrassed, and then to angry: "Zhang Yu, you..."

“Did I say something wrong?” Zhang Yu raised an eyebrow, the mole under his left eye clearly visible in the rain. “A true actor relies on acting skills, not on body shape and face. If Miss Liu really wants to be respected, she should first learn to respect her profession.”

After he finished speaking, he turned and walked towards the monitor, no longer looking at her. Liu Yan stood there, her dark green cheongsam swaying gently in the drizzle, her face flushing and paling in turns.

Humiliation, anger, resentment... but strangely, beneath these emotions lay a deeper stirring—he was right, he had pinpointed her problem perfectly. And his languid, disdainful demeanor, his condescending attitude, only made her... even more captivated.

This man knows exactly how to make people both hate and love him.

Filming continued. For the next few hours, Zhang Yu was completely focused on his work, ignoring the female celebrities who were observing. His professionalism was admirable—the direction of every shot was precise, the control of every detail was just right, and his guidance to the actors was both sharp and effective.

Under his guidance, Chen Chen's performance improved more and more. The rain scene was filmed in just three takes, each one more delicate and moving than the last.

Bai Bing and Shu Chang were engrossed in watching. Shu Chang whispered, "Director Zhang is amazing...everything he says makes perfect sense."

Bai Bing nodded, his eyes serious: "Indeed. He can see the actors' most fundamental problems and provide the most effective solutions. Directors like him are extremely rare."

Gao Yuanyuan watched intently. She discovered that Zhang Yu not only understood acting, but also camera work, lighting, pacing... he was proficient in almost every aspect of filmmaking. Such an all-around director is extremely rare in the industry.

Liu Yifei was completely captivated by Chen Chen's performance. Watching the woman persevering in the rain, seeing that gentle yet strong spirit, a clear thought arose in her mind—I want to become an actress like that someday.

Only Liu Yan was still bothered by what had just been said. But she had to admit that Zhang Yu was right. Over the years, she had relied too much on her appearance and figure, and had tried too hard to take shortcuts, which had ultimately led her astray.

Maybe... it really is time for a change.

Filming wrapped up at 6 PM. Li Xiaoming suggested going to a teahouse to discuss the "Scholarly Family" project. Zhang Yu initially wanted to refuse, but seeing the expectant looks in the investors' eyes, he agreed.

The teahouse is situated by the river, in an elegant setting. People sit around, the aroma of tea wafting through the air.

Li Xiaoming got straight to the point: "Director Zhang, you've already read the script for 'A Family of Scholars.' It's a story about a scholarly family in Jiangnan during the Republican era, the rise and fall of a family, and the love between children... You're good at this kind of subject matter. And the investment is already in place. As long as you give your approval, we can start right away."

Zhang Yu picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said, "President Li, I'll say it again—we'll talk about it after 'Old Tales of Jiangnan' is finished filming."

"I understand, I understand," Li Xiaoming readily agreed. "But we can talk about casting first. Ms. Chen Chen will play the female lead, Lin Shuwan. Does everyone agree?"

Several investors nodded in agreement. Chen Chen's performance these past few days has been remarkable; she truly deserves the lead role.

"What about the second female lead?" President Wang asked. "Who would be suitable to play that seemingly gentle but complex character?"

Li Xiaoming looked at Gao Yuanyuan: "What do you think of Yuanyuan? She has a gentle temperament and solid acting skills."

Gao Yuanyuan smiled and said, "Thank you, Mr. Li. It would be my honor to work with Director Zhang."

Zhang Yu didn't speak, he just drank his tea.

"What about the third female lead?" General Manager Zhao asked. "Who will play the charming but tragically fated singer?"

All eyes turned to Liu Yan. Liu Yan sat up straight, her dark green cheongsam highlighting her fair skin and revealing her curves: "I can try it."

But Zhang Yu spoke up: "Miss Liu is not suitable."

Liu Yan's expression changed: "Why?"

“That role doesn’t require charm, it requires worldliness,” Zhang Yu said calmly. “It’s the kind of vicissitudes that life has worn you down, the kind of sadness that comes from forcing a smile in the entertainment industry. Miss Liu is too… glamorous, she can’t capture that feeling.”

That was a very direct statement. Liu Yan's face darkened again, but this time she didn't get angry. Instead, she thought about it seriously: "Then...who does Director Zhang think is suitable?"

Zhang Yu's gaze swept across the table, finally landing on Bai Bing: "Miss Bai can give it a try."

Everyone was stunned. Bai Bing herself was also taken aback. She had been very quiet all day, hardly saying a word, and she hadn't expected Zhang Yu to notice her.