Mr. Huo, my wife is offering 1000 billion for divorce!

Zhen Yan's fingers holding the phone trembled slightly, and the street lights cast tiny spots of light on the screen.

Zheng Qian's voice continued in the receiver: "...The production company has temporarily increased the investment and wants to move the snow mountain location shooting to the front. You should go home and pack your winter clothes immediately. I will be downstairs at your house in half an hour."

"But..." She caught a glimpse of Xiao Muzhen looking back at the corner, lowered her voice and hid in the shadows, "Didn't we agree to meet next week..."

Before she could finish her words, she was interrupted by Zheng Qian. Her newly made crystal nails hit the desk, making a crisp sound.

"My dear lady, Director Chen's play has so many people trying to get in, but the costume team just sent me a message saying that your costumes are ready—" There was a rustling sound of papers rustling on the other end of the phone, "By the way, Lin Ruoxuan's dressing room is next to yours."

The last sentence was like an icicle sticking into my spine.

Zhen Yan watched Xiao Muzhen and her family disappear in the neon lights on the street corner. When she turned around, her high heels crushed the halo cast by the street lamp.

She recalled the scene three days ago in the studio when Lin Ruoxuan poured iced American coffee over her skirt. Her almond eyes were filled with tears: "Oh, I'm so sorry, my hand slipped."

The filming this time probably won’t be too smooth.

But whether it goes smoothly or not, she has to go.

"okay, I get it."

At seven o'clock the next morning, in the dressing room of the film and television base.

Zhen Yan, wrapped in a down jacket, pushed open the door labeled "Female Leading Role". The makeup mirror was covered with shooting notices for twenty scenes.

The hanger where the lavender chiffon dress should have been hung was empty, and a few pieces of fabric stained with red wine were scattered on the floor.

"Xiao Tang?" She turned to look at the prop assistant who was holding a box of hot packs, "My costume..."

The boy wearing black-framed glasses hurriedly took a half step back, and the incubator hit the door frame with a dull sound.

He glanced at the corridor, hesitant to speak, and suddenly lowered his voice: "Miss Zhen, when I came to deliver the hot water bottle this morning, I saw Xiao Zhou, the stage manager, running out of your dressing room."

There was a noisy sound of extras gathering outside the window, and Zhen Yan squatted down and picked up a piece of cloth.

The lace edge corroded by red wine shed silver powder between her fingers. This was the set she wore in the makeup photo.

The shadow of Lin Ruoxuan's assistant suddenly flashed across the mirror. The girl who always wore Chanel suits was holding up her mobile phone to record this side.

"Does Sister Zheng know?"

Xiao Tang shook his head, "I don't know..."

Zhen Yan stuffed the rags into her backpack as if nothing had happened, and her fingertips touched the cold metal shell - it was the recorder that Xiao Muzhen gave her last year.

She had an idea and quietly held the recorder in her hand.

She stood up and whispered to Xiao Tang, "Xiao Tang, go ahead and do your work. I'll take care of this."

Xiao Tang nodded, his eyes full of apology and uneasiness, and hurriedly left the dressing room.

Zhen Yan walked to the mirror, took a deep breath, and began to carefully check her makeup bag to make sure all the necessities were ready.

She knew that she had to fight well in today's battle.

She would not turn a blind eye to Lin Ruoxuan's little movements, but she would not be easily angered either.

At this moment, the door of the dressing room was pushed open again, and Lin Ruoxuan's assistant walked in on high heels with a smug smile on her face. She looked at Zhen Yan in surprise and said, "Hey, Zhen Yan, why haven't you changed your clothes yet? Is there something wrong with your clothes?"

Zhen Yan glanced at her coldly, and a faint smile appeared on the corner of her mouth: "Yes, it seems that someone accidentally 'slipped', but it doesn't matter, I have my own way."