“Let me ask you two something. Did you park our van sideways across the entrance to an underground garage? How else does a simple audition end with the vehicle smashed to pieces? Four side windows, front windshield, rear windshield—all gone. Little Qin, if you're unhappy with me, say so. Your contract is almost over. If you don't want to renew, I won't imprison you. Why take revenge on the van?”
Inside the office, each blow against the desk shook the room. Xiao Zhou flinched every time. A potted plant gradually vibrated toward the edge, swaying as though it too wanted to escape.
Zhang Youfu drew deeply on his cigarette, stared at the ceiling, and exhaled a ring.
“My great Actress Qin, do you think passing one audition means you're famous? Is my little company beneath you now? Planning to turn from sparrow into phoenix, sign with a major agency, and walk away?”
He continued before she could answer.
“With Qin Sheng's temperament, he can replace you at any moment before release. If he decides he doesn't want someone, he'll spend a fortune on an AI face replacement and delay the entire film, no matter the compensation. Don't think all four paws have landed and your dream is real. If you can't adapt after joining the crew, you'll suffer. Zhao Jing is busy with Ning Jiajia and has no time to clean this up. You and Zhou Dao can't even manage one van?”
He pointed at Zhou Dao.
“Do you understand what expired insurance means? Answer me!”
The shouting made Qin Ting's ears ring. She rushed to apologize.
“President Zhang, how could you think that of me? Without your original opportunity, I would never have become an actress. And what other agency helps operate an artist's independent media account? You couldn't find a company like ours even with a lantern!”
She hurried forward and placed his favorite coffee—prepared earlier by his assistant—on the desk. Before stepping away, she rescued the pothos from the edge. Flattery covered every inch of her face.
“I never expected Zou Songpu to be there, and I certainly didn't expect his stalkers to remain this wild after his company sued them. This was my mistake, so don't blame Xiao Zhou. I escaped only because she brought me this coat and hat.”
Qin Ting turned in a circle to display the outfit.
The moderately successful man in his forties stared with open doubt.
“The security guard downstairs let you enter dressed like that?”
The moment was unbearably awkward.
Sensing his anger ease, Xiao Zhou slipped in a question.
“President Zhang, about the towing fee...?”
“Submit it to finance for reimbursement!”
If Qin Ting had not miraculously passed the audition, Zhang Youfu would have thrown both women out with one hand apiece.
Zhou Dao beamed and pressed forward.
“Thank you, President Zhang. If today's campus incident begins trending, please help us contact someone to handle it.”
With their manager absent, no one at the company paid attention to Qin Ting and her assistant. Zou Songpu's stalkers had endless tricks. After such a long chase across campus, countless videos might already be online.
Neither woman had dared check her phone on the ride back. They feared the first recommended clip would show Qin Ting bursting from a van with a cat tail dragging behind her and half an ear protruding from a crooked hat before fleeing into a public restroom.
President Zhang extinguished his cigarette and scrolled through his phone.
“Zou Songpu and Director Qin's ‘campus casting competition’ is trending perfectly well. Why are you putting on your own song-and-dance show? Enough. Once you join the production, watch and learn. Don't make people think artists from Youfu Culture and Talent Management know nothing. When the contract process is complete, Zhao Jing will bring you the script. Pack and rest at home. Don't spend the shoot mooning over celebrities.”
He looked Qin Ting up and down.
“And bring normal clothes.”
The boulder in Qin Ting's chest finally dropped. She agreed to everything, raised a hand, and swore she would cause no trouble and return victorious.
Once the office door closed, she dragged Zhou Dao to finance. They bowed and smiled through the reimbursement forms, then called a ride and raced home.
Qin Ting kicked off her shoes, collapsed on the sofa, and sighed. Her hat and coat landed wherever they fell. Her tail, finally free, swayed idly.
Zhou Dao brought water with a straw. After Qin Ting tilted her head and drank, she returned the cup to the table, arranged the scattered shoes, put the hat and coat in the washer, fetched loungewear, added Qin Ting's changed clothes, selected the cycle, and returned to massage her legs.
In addition to the company's salary, Qin Ting's mother paid Zhou Dao twice: a one-time hush payment of two hundred thousand yuan, and eight thousand every month to care for Qin Ting around the clock and ensure no one discovered her secret.
Zhou Dao talked endlessly, but she never revealed anything about Qin Ting. Money strengthened her natural loyalty. A live-in job with meals included and a commute of several meters was nearly perfect.
To keep it, she had taken cooking classes and resumed practicing sanda. Sometimes, after collecting Qin Ting from Muay Thai lessons, she taught her additional techniques at home. Whether an exhausted Qin Ting retained any of them was uncertain.
Qin Ting's ears and tail had barely retracted when her stomach growled.
Zhou Dao stood immediately. “Sister, what would you like?”
“Make whatever you want. I was terrified today and have no appetite. I'll only eat a few bites.”
Yet when Zhou Dao placed spicy boiled pork, sliced pork with garlic sauce, and a huge bowl of winter-melon meatball soup on the table, Qin Ting emerged from the kitchen already carrying two sets of bowls and chopsticks.
She dropped them with a clatter.
“Stop working and eat. I'm starving!”
Qin Ting ate quickly and in enormous quantities. She demolished her second bowl in no time. After sweeping the table clean, she rubbed her stomach, burped, and leaned against Zhou Dao.
“Your cooking improves every day. I wonder whether the production will let you cook. Sigh.”
Zhou Dao loaded the dishwasher. Her voice came from the kitchen.
“You passed Director Qin's audition. Why sigh over meals? I'll find a way once we're there. And I think Zou Songpu's people handled today's incident. A rumor that a woman stepped from his van would hurt him too.”
“I'm wondering whether to renew my contract.”
Qin Ting followed her into the kitchen and stood beside her while she wiped the range hood, accomplishing nothing except obstruction.
“You joined the company before I did. Analyze this. Didn't the boss recruit me only because Ning Jiajia was drowning in scandals? He saw a fresh graduate who knew nothing and kept me as a backup.”
“You learned that almost immediately. Why bring it up now?”
“Because Ning Jiajia's scandal reversed right after I joined. She gained hundreds of thousands of followers overnight. The boss didn't want to pay damages for firing me, so he dumped an ignorant newcomer into short dramas and left me there. He offered to promote my account only after it began gaining traction, then made me sign an addendum giving him most of the monthly income. Outside, he claims he built my account from zero and has used that story to recruit several small influencers.”
Zhou Dao finished the kitchen and fetched the vacuum. Qin Ting followed like a tail, talking over the machine until the noise forced her to shout.
“SO WHEN MY CONTRACT ENDS, DO YOU THINK HE WON'T RENEW IT? WHAT IF I HAVE NO ROLES AND CAN'T BE AN ACTRESS ANYMORE?”
Her excellent voice rang directly beside Zhou Dao's ear. When the vacuum switched off, the house still echoed.
Zhou Dao nudged her second employer's daughter away with an elbow, pressed her onto the sofa, and said, “You still have your account. At worst, you can ask Ms. Qin for help.”
“I don't want to.”
Qin Ting lay on her back and stared at the ceiling.
“I love acting. Otherwise, I wouldn't have studied voice performance or taken acting classes. I want to know how ordinary people live.”
“Passing means Director Qin believes you can do it. Should I schedule more classes? I canceled today's Muay Thai session, so you need to make it up tomorrow. Stop worrying. Things work out when they arrive. If this film makes us famous, President Zhang will beg us to renew.”
While they talked, Zhou Dao cleaned the home, hung the laundry, and filled the air with detergent fragrance. She even lit aromatherapy in the bedroom.
Coaxed into bed, Qin Ting slept peacefully.
Zou Songpu had a very different night.
His manager called the second the scandal appeared. After he denied it, she contacted public relations immediately.
Messages from his family were harder to escape.
“Why did you bring a woman to your workplace?”
“Have you forgotten everything your parents taught you?”
“Can't you handle those fans yourself? What are you capable of at your age?”
“We are deeply disappointed. Come home and explain when you have time.”
...
Notifications had sounded without pause since he came home. Each chime struck like a hammer, reminding him that he had disappointed his family yet again.
He had long hated dealing with them. He desperately wanted freedom.
Zou Songpu hurled his phone against the wall. It fell shattered, but his anger remained. He picked it up and smashed it repeatedly until the back broke and the device split in two.
His bloodshot gaze shifted slowly to the drinking glasses on the coffee table.
His manager had replaced the scandal with a trending story about Zou Songpu and Qin Sheng appearing at Z University for a “campus casting competition.” She had handled such diversions many times and did them well.
But even her speed had not hidden the story from his parents.
The business van that had just taken him home was one his manager had fought hard to secure. He had held himself together until it left.
She entered, saw the destruction, and said nothing. Quietly, she swept up every fragment and restored the room as though nothing had happened.
Zou Songpu lit a cigarette with trembling hands.
“Has Director Qin truly chosen the second female lead?”
“Yes. The paperwork is underway. She should receive the script soon.”
With one sweep of his arm, every glass on the coffee table crashed to the floor.
His manager, having just cleaned the phone, calmly began sweeping again.
She looked up at her pale artist. His eyes were red with pain and grief. A broken, hoarse voice emerged from his throat—his inflammation had returned.
“Can we kick her out?”