Rebirth: A big star falls in love with me

Halfway through filming in the Imperial Garden, Gao Yuanyuan was brought to the monitor.

Zhang Yu was watching Chen Chen and Lu Yuan act out a scene—Lin Shuwan and Gu Jiangnan were strolling in the plum grove, pouring out their hearts to each other.

This scene is emotionally nuanced, requiring the actors to convey their inner turmoil through the most subtle expressions and movements.

Chen Chen acted very well. She walked beside Lu Yuan, head slightly bowed, a shy smile on her lips, her fingers unconsciously fiddling with the tassels of her shawl. That little gesture was designed by Zhang Yu to express Lin Shuwan's inner nervousness and sweetness. Chen Chen executed it flawlessly, but Zhang Yu could sense that she was acting, not experiencing.

"Cut!" he called out. "Very good, prepare for the next close-up."

Putting down the walkie-talkie, Zhang Yu noticed Gao Yuanyuan standing beside him. In the morning light, the girl was even more pure and beautiful than in the advertisements. Her white dress accentuated her snow-white skin, and her long hair swayed gently in the breeze, making her resemble a budding lily.

"Miss Gao is here." Zhang Yu stood up. "Sorry, I was filming just now."

"It's alright, it's alright!" Gao Yuanyuan quickly waved her hand. "Director Zhang, you go ahead with your work, I can wait."

Her demeanor was humble and polite, her eyes clear, lacking the calculating and ingratiating manner common in the entertainment industry. Zhang Yu looked at her, the birthmark under his left eye slightly warming—another new star-like mark was approaching.

"Have you read the script?" Zhang Yu asked.

"I've read it!" Gao Yuanyuan took out the script from her bag, which was covered with notes. "I want to audition for Zhou Wanqing, Lin Shuwan's cousin, the female student who came to Shanghai from Beiping to study. I... I wrote a short biography of the character, would you like to take a look?"

She handed him a few pages of handwritten paper. Zhang Yu took them and skimmed through them—the handwriting was neat and the analysis thorough. She not only understood the character's surface personality but also delved into her family background, upbringing, and inner conflicts. For a newcomer with a background in advertising, such dedication was truly commendable.

"It's very well written," Zhang Yu said sincerely. "You have a lot of ideas."

Gao Yuanyuan's eyes lit up: "Really? Thank you, Director Zhang!"

“But acting isn’t just about understanding the character; it’s also about being able to express it.” Zhang Yu looked at her. “Zhou Wanqing has a pivotal scene—she gives a speech in the school auditorium, advocating for women’s liberation. This scene requires passion, it needs to be infectious, it needs to make the audience believe that this seventeen-year-old girl truly has the courage to change the world. Can you do it?”

Gao Yuanyuan bit her lip, then nodded firmly: "I can try."

“Let’s do a scene now.” Zhang Yu pointed to the open space in the center of the set. “Imagine that’s an auditorium, with hundreds of students below. You are Zhou Wanqing, and you have to tell them that women in the new era should not just be appendages of men.”

Gao Yuanyuan took a deep breath and walked to the center of the open space. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, and when she opened them again, her entire aura had changed—from a shy girl to a speaker with a firm gaze and a straight back.

"Students!" she began, her voice clear and strong, "We are gathered here today not to discuss trivial matters, but to discuss our future—the future of Chinese women!"

Zhang Yu watched quietly. Gao Yuanyuan's performance was still quite raw; in some parts she overacted, and in others the rhythm was off. But she possessed a precious quality—sincerity. She genuinely believed what she was saying and truly felt the character's emotions. That kind of "sincerity" is something many professional actors can't achieve.

“We study not to marry into a good family; we think not to please men; we exist not to be anyone’s appendage!” Gao Yuanyuan’s voice echoed in the Imperial Garden, and several staff members stopped working to look at her. “We are independent individuals, people with thoughts, souls, and the right to pursue our own lives!”

Towards the end of her speech, her eyes reddened, her voice choked with emotion, but her gaze remained resolute. In that moment, she completely became Zhou Wanqing—the girl who awakened amidst chaos, the pioneer who dared to speak out for women.

After the performance ended, the audience was silent for a few seconds. Then Zhang Yu applauded.

“Very good,” he said. “Although there are still many areas for improvement in terms of technique, you have the most valuable thing—sincerity. Miss Gao, this role is yours.”

Gao Yuanyuan was stunned, seemingly unable to believe it: "Really...really?"

"Really." Zhang Yu smiled. "But it will be tough from now on, so you need to be mentally prepared."

"I'm not afraid of hard work!" Gao Yuanyuan was so excited that tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you, Director Zhang! Thank you for giving me this opportunity! I will definitely work hard!"

She bowed deeply, and almost fell over from her excitement as she stood up. Zhang Yu reached out to support her; the girl's hand was soft and slightly cool, like holding a piece of warm jade.

"Be careful." Zhang Yu let go of her hand. "Starting tomorrow, you'll learn from the crew. Observe how others act, and think more."

"Yes!" Gao Yuanyuan nodded vigorously, her eyes shining like stars.

Not far away, Chen Chen came out of the dressing room and witnessed this scene. Zhang Yu was holding Gao Yuanyuan's hand, the two were very close, and Zhang Yu had a gentle smile on his face that she hadn't seen in a long time. That smile used to belong only to her.

Chen Chen stopped, watched quietly for a few seconds, then turned and walked in another direction. The figure in the moon-white cheongsam gradually disappeared into the distance in the corridor of the Imperial Garden, like a wisp of moonlight about to dissipate.

---

At 2 PM, the second group of media representatives arrived. This time, eight media outlets came, including reporters from "Film and Television Circle" and "Entertainment Weekly"—the very two media outlets most enthusiastic about reporting on Zhang Yu's scandals.

Li Xiaoming personally received them, his face beaming, but his eyes betrayed barely concealed nervousness. He knew these reporters had come with ill intentions; yesterday's fax was merely a prelude, and the real confrontation was just beginning.

The interview was arranged in a pavilion in the Imperial Garden. Zhang Yu sat in the middle, with Chen Chen on his left and Zeng Li on his right, and the other main actors sat on either side. Cameras and microphones were pointed at them, and flashes went off constantly.

"Director Zhang, how is the filming of 'A Family of Scholars' progressing? When is it expected to be released?" The first question was relatively mild.

"Filming is going smoothly and is expected to wrap up in early May. Post-production will take three months, and the film is planned for release during the National Day holiday," Zhang Yu answered flawlessly.

"Ms. Chen Chen, this is your second time working with Director Zhang. Do you feel any difference?" The reporter turned to Chen Chen.

Chen Chen smiled and said, "Director Zhang has always been a director with high artistic standards. This time, we have a better understanding of each other. Moreover, the period drama is a new challenge for me, and I enjoy the process very much."

She spoke in a very formal way, as if she were reciting lines. Zhang Yu could hear the detachment in her voice.

"And Ms. Zeng Li? Is this your first time working with Director Zhang? How was it?" the reporter continued to ask.

Zeng Li smiled charmingly: "Director Zhang is a very charismatic director. He is not only very talented, but also very good at directing actors. I have learned a lot from him."