Rebirth: A big star falls in love with me

"Received," Zhang Yu replied. "The reshoots and production in Hengdian will be completed within fifteen days. I will arrive on time."

"Also, I've coordinated Binbin and Xiaoran's schedules; they can join the cast of 'The Longest Day in Chang'an' in late April. When will your script be finalized?"

Before April 10th.

"Okay. By the way, I've looked at the trainee system plan that Song Qian brought back from South Korea, and it's very innovative. We can start implementing it once the studio is more stable."

Looking at the text message, Zhang Yu formed a new plan. The trainee system…this was the future direction of the idol industry. If they could plan ahead, their studio could gain a competitive edge in the talent agency field.

He turned on his computer and began writing the "Studio Artist Training System Plan." Under the lamplight, his profile was focused and resolute. Outside the window, Beijing's night sky was ablaze with lights, like an inverted galaxy.

The birthmark under his left eye shone as brightly as a real star at that moment.

He could feel the starlight imprints within him resonating—Chen Chen's comradeship, Yang Mi's growth and transformation, Bai Bing's composure and resilience, Gao Yuanyuan's purity and earnestness, Zhao Liying's tenacious struggle, Liu Shishi's elegance and focus, Zhang Tian'ai's passion and loyalty, Dilireba's agile talent, Li Binbin's shared ideals, Li Xiaoran's introverted resilience, Song Qian's vitality and vision, Wang Jinghua's strategic support, and Shu Chang's mutual appreciation…

Thirty-seven marks, thirty-seven units of power.

There are still seventy-one more to go.

The road ahead is still long, but more and more people are joining us, and the path ahead is becoming clearer.

He knew that fifteen days later would mark a new beginning.

"A Family of Scholars" will be completed, the studio will be firmly established, and the joint venture will officially launch.

And the relationship between him and Chen Chen will soon have an answer.

Outside the window, the night is getting dark.

But dawn is already on its way.

---

April 1, 2000, 8:00 AM, Hengdian, cloudy turning sunny, 13~23°C.

On the morning of April Fool's Day, the atmosphere on the "Imperial Study" set at Hengdian Ming and Qing Palace was anything but playful. With fourteen days remaining until Zhang Yu's promised fifteen-day deadline, the entire crew was like a high-speed machine, everyone on edge.

Chen Chen stood in the center of the makeshift clothing work area, holding a newly completed lake-blue embroidered cheongsam in her hand, carefully inspecting the stitches against the sunlight. She had been working continuously for thirty-six hours, only managing to sleep for two hours at three in the morning while slumped over her desk. At this moment, her eyes were dark and her lips were slightly chapped from dehydration.

"Director Chen, is this one okay?" the costume designer, Xiao Li, asked nervously. This was already the seventeenth cheongsam to be remade, and each one had to undergo Chen Chen's almost harsh inspection.

"The third flower on the right lapel is half a shade lighter in color." Chen Chen handed the cheongsam back. "Re-embroider it."

Xiao Li's face paled, but she still took the cheongsam: "Yes, I'll change it right away."

"Wait a minute." Chen Chen rubbed his temples and softened his tone. "Xiao Li, I know you're tired, everyone's tired. But this film is too important to us; it can't have even the slightest flaw. Thank you for your hard work."

Xiao Li's eyes reddened: "It's not hard work, Director Chen, you've worked much harder than us... I'll go and make the changes right away."

Watching Xiao Li's hurried departure, Chen Chen leaned against the pillar behind her, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She could feel her body approaching its limit—dizziness, palpitations, cold hands and feet—warnings from long-term sleep deprivation and high pressure. But she couldn't collapse, at least not before Zhang Yu returned.

"Chenchen, have some ginseng soup." Huang Ying came over with a thermos, her eyes full of heartache. "You can't go on like this, you'll break down."

Chen Chen took the cup, and the warm ginseng soup soothed his throat, relieving some of his fatigue: "Sister Huang Ying, how many costumes are still unfinished?"

"We still need eight cheongsams, twelve long gowns, and five school uniforms," ​​Huang Ying said, flipping through her notebook. "At the current pace, it will take at least five days to finish everything. But Director Zhang said he'd finish all the work in fifteen days, including post-production editing..."

“Then let’s speed things up even more.” Chen Chen interrupted her. “Starting today, we’ll extend our working hours to eighteen hours a day. We’ll work in shifts, but the machines will keep running.”

"But everyone..."

“No buts.” Chen Chen opened his eyes, his gaze filled with an almost obsessive determination. “Sister Huang Ying, we have no way out. Wang Zhongjun wrecked our film set just to see us collapse. If we really fall, what will happen to the people who follow us? What will happen to the opportunity Zhang Yu fought for in Beijing?”

Huang Ying looked at her, knowing she couldn't persuade her otherwise, and could only sigh: "Alright, I'll make the arrangements. But Chenchen, you need to sleep at least four hours today, that's the bottom line."

"Three hours," Chen Chen conceded. "I'll rest from 2 PM to 5 PM."

As soon as he finished speaking, a commotion arose at the entrance of the film set. Chen Chen turned his head and saw a familiar figure dragging a suitcase as he walked in—it was Zhang Yu.

He came back early.

---

Nine o'clock in the morning, on the film set.

When Zhang Yu walked onto the set, the first thing he saw was Chen Chen's pale, almost translucent face. She stood in the morning light of the work area, wearing a simple white shirt and black trousers, her hair casually tied in a low ponytail. She looked so frail, as if a gust of wind could blow her away. But he could see the light in her eyes—a light that burned brightly in the face of adversity, a light that refused to be extinguished.

"Director Zhang is back!" someone shouted, and everyone on set stopped what they were doing.

Zhang Yu nodded, his gaze fixed on Chen Chen. He walked up to her, and although there were three meters between them, it felt like an entire winter's icy river separated them.

"Why did you come back early?" Chen Chen asked first, his voice calm and even. "Have you finished taking care of things in Beijing?"

"It's all done," Zhang Yu said, putting his suitcase aside. "I heard the film set was vandalized, so I came back to check it out."

"Just taking a look?" Chen Chen raised an eyebrow. "Is Director Zhang back to inspect our work, or to criticize our slow progress?"

These words were barbed. Everyone on set held their breath, watching the delicate standoff between the two key figures of the studio.

Zhang Yu smiled, a smile that Chen Chen couldn't decipher: "I'm back to help. Director Chen, assign me a task."

Chen Chen was stunned. She had thought about what Zhang Yu would say when he came back—it might be comfort, encouragement, or pressure—but she never expected him to say, "Assign me a task."

"you..."

“I’ve studied carpentry,” Zhang Yu interrupted her, rolling up his shirt sleeves as he walked towards the props area. “I did stage design in the drama club in college; I know a little about mortise and tenon joints and wood carving. Bai Bing, do you need any help?”

Bai Bing was repairing a damaged carved screen when he heard this. He looked up and, unusually, showed a surprised expression: "Director Zhang...you really know how?"