Rebirth: A big star falls in love with me

"Who is this?" asked Director Wang from Beijing TV.

“Wang Ou is the artist director of ‘Hua Yu’,” Zhang Yu introduced. “She is in charge of the daily management of the training camp.”

"Director Wang is young and promising!" Director Wang exclaimed. "She's so beautiful and capable; Director Zhang really has a discerning eye."

Wang Ou smiled and said, "Director Wang, you flatter me. I'm just doing my job."

After dealing with everyone, Zhang Yu finally had a chance to catch his breath. He went to the balcony and lit a cigarette. The cool night breeze carried away some of the effects of the alcohol.

Wang Ou came over and handed him a glass of warm water: "Drink less alcohol, it's bad for your stomach."

"Thank you." Zhang Yu took the water glass. "You've worked hard tonight. Organizing the performance and dealing with the media."

"Of course." Wang Ou leaned against the railing, looking at the night view outside the window. "Director Zhang, were the things you said on stage today sincere?"

"Which one?"

“Regarding the cultivation of real actors, we don’t pursue quick fixes.” Wang Ou turned to look at him.

“Of course I mean it.” Zhang Yu exhaled a puff of smoke. “This industry is too superficial. We need people who can do things in a down-to-earth manner. Although it’s difficult, someone has to do it.”

Wang Ou looked at him; in the moonlight, his profile was sharply defined, and his eyes were resolute. At that moment, she suddenly felt that this man possessed an idealistic radiance, even though behind that radiance might lie untold darkness.

“Director Zhang, may I ask you a personal question?” she suddenly said.

"ask."

"Are you happy?" Wang Ou asked. "Doing all this, training new people, dealing with competition, navigating all sorts of relationships... are you really happy?"

Zhang Yu was stunned. He hadn't expected Wang Ou to ask that question. Happiness? He hadn't thought about that word in a long time. From the moment he accepted his mission, he was destined to be forever separated from simple happiness.

“Sometimes I’m happy, sometimes I’m not,” he finally said. “But isn’t that what life is like? You can’t have everything. I’ve chosen this path, so I have to bear everything that comes with it.”

Wang Ou was silent for a few seconds, then said, "Director Zhang, you're working too hard. Sometimes, it's good to relax a bit and not push yourself too hard."

Zhang Yu laughed: "You're concerned about me?"

"I..." Wang Ou blushed, "I am your subordinate, it is only right for me to care about my boss."

"Just a subordinate?" Zhang Yu looked at her, his eyes deep.

Wang Ou's heart raced. She could sense the implication in Zhang Yu's words, but she didn't know how to respond. She had feelings for him, admiration, but even more so, a sense of awe. She dared not cross the line, afraid of ruining their current relationship.

"Director Zhang, I..."

"No need to answer," Zhang Yu interrupted her. "I was just joking. Let's go inside; the guests should be looking for us soon."

He turned and walked into the banquet hall. Wang Ou watched his departing figure, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside her. This man was like a fog—visible, yet intangible, unfathomable.

The celebration banquet lasted until 11 p.m. After seeing off the last group of guests, Zhang Yu and Wang Ou returned to the training camp.

"Tomorrow's a holiday, you should get some rest too," Zhang Yu said to Wang Ou. "You've worked hard this past month."

"Director Zhang, you should get some rest too." Wang Ou nodded and turned to walk towards the dormitory building.

Halfway there, she suddenly turned back and asked, "Director Zhang, if... if one day I want to act, would you really teach me?"

"Yes," Zhang Yu said firmly. "I always keep my word."

Wang Ou smiled and said, "Thank you. Good night."

"Good night."

Watching Wang Ou walk into the dormitory building, Zhang Yu turned and headed towards his own room. The mole under his left eye felt slightly warm.

Wang Ou's mark has taken another step forward. This mature woman needs more patience and guidance, but her sacrifice will certainly be worthwhile.

Back at his place, Chen Chen was still awake, sitting on the sofa watching TV.

"You're back?" She stood up and took Zhang Yu's coat. "You've had quite a bit to drink, haven't you? I'll go make you some hangover soup."

"No need." Zhang Yu pulled her into his arms. "Let me hold you for a while."

Chen Chen leaned on his shoulder, smelling the alcohol and cigarette fumes on him, and felt a pang of heartache: "You must be very tired tonight?"

"Hmm." Zhang Yu closed his eyes. "Socializing is more tiring than filming."

"Then get some rest." Chen Chen pulled him towards the bedroom. "I've run a bath. Go take a bath and relax."

Looking at her gentle demeanor, Zhang Yu felt a pang of guilt. He had Li Xiaoran and other actresses outside, but Chen Chen was still here waiting for him and taking care of him.

“Chen Chen,” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

"Apologize for what?" Chen Chen asked.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long," Zhang Yu said. "I'm sorry I can't give you a stable life."

Chen Chen smiled gently: "Zhang Yu, I love you as a person, not a stable life. As long as you're here, anywhere is home."

These words were like a warm current flowing into Zhang Yu's cold heart. He hugged her tightly: "We will definitely get married in a year. I swear."

"I believe you." Chen Chen kissed his forehead. "Go take a shower, the water's getting cold."

That night, Zhang Yu slept restlessly. He dreamed of many people—Chen Chen, Li Xiaoran, Wang Ou, Gao Yuanyuan, Liu Yifei… They surrounded him, some crying, some laughing, and some questioning why he had treated them this way.

He woke up with a start; it was still dark. Chen Chen beside him was fast asleep, breathing evenly.

Zhang Yu quietly got up, walked to the balcony, and lit a cigarette. Hengdian at four in the morning was silent. In the distance, the crowing of roosters heralded the start of a new day.

The birthmark under his left eye glows faintly in the darkness.

Forty-eight marks, and sixty more. The road ahead is long, but he has no way back.

He had to keep going, even if the road led to an abyss.

Because this is the path he chose, he will walk it to the end, even if he has to crawl on his knees.

---

August 3, 2000, 6:00 AM, a high-end apartment in Beijing.

Sunlight filtered through the off-white gauze curtains, casting dappled shadows on the oak floor. A faint floral scent filled the bedroom—Li Xiaoran's favorite gardenia fragrance. She lay on her side on the two-meter-wide bed, the silk sheets slipping down to her waist, revealing her smooth, satin-like back. The morning light outlined the curves of her body; her shoulder blades were slightly prominent, and her waist was so slender it seemed one could encircle it with a single hand.

She was awake, but didn't want to open her eyes. Her palm gently rested on her lower abdomen, still flat, but she could feel life quietly growing within her. Eight weeks along, the doctor said the fetus was healthy. She should be happy, but a weight seemed to press on her heart.

The phone vibrated on the bedside table, and Wang Jinghua's name appeared on the screen. Li Xiaoran hesitated for a few seconds before answering.

"Hey, Sister Jinghua..."

"Xiao Ran, have you read today's 'Entertainment Express'?" Wang Jinghua's voice was unusually anxious.