Chapter 10

In the middle of the night, Xie Yibai was so bothered by that inexplicably provocative message that he couldn't sleep. He opened the door and let Little Biscuit into the bedroom; the puppy stuck close to his heels, and once he got into bed, he lay on the carpet and wagged his tail.

Dachshunds had short legs and couldn't jump onto a bed, and Xie Yibai never gave him a set of steps. The little chocolate-colored animal stared at him with bright eyes, a round nose, and a furry muzzle. Xie Yibai couldn't stay hardhearted, so he picked him up and put him in the middle of the bed.

Little Biscuit stumbled across the soft bedding, leaving paw prints behind. He curled up against his owner and happily rested his head.

Xie Yibai held his phone, sorely tempted to take a screenshot and ask around who was harassing him like a lunatic in the middle of the night. But the lessons he had learned over his years as an entertainer told him that private matters, like family scandals, shouldn't be aired in public.

Seriously? He and Zou Yan had only met three times. Where had all these nasty rumors come from?

What a joke!

But Xie Yibai was a genuinely busy man. If he dwelled on every little thing, he might as well give up on life and hide at home until he tormented himself to death. If he couldn't make sense of it, he wouldn't think about it. He tossed his phone aside, hugged his freshly bathed, sweet-smelling dog son close, switched off the wall lamp, and went back to sleep.

After thinking it over, Sheng Ke didn't want to have too much contact with him over an inconsequential piece of jewelry. He decided to return it the next time an opportunity arose, and that was the end of the episode.

The user with the nickname K didn't cause any more trouble, and Xie Yibai let the matter go. He and Zou Yan had practically nothing to do with each other, so it wasn't worth the effort.

He intended to change the direction of his career and hadn't joined another production since his latest drama wrapped. He wasn't very satisfied with any of the scripts his agent brought him, so for nearly three months, he focused his work on fashion industry opportunities and commercial events.

His team's stylist and photographer had been recruited at great expense. They were a good match for his personal image, had excellent taste, and knew how to use styling and the camera to convey his strengths and charm to the audience to the fullest.

While Xie Yibai was in Milan for a show, his studio released several sets of high-quality street-style photos and portraits. Combined with unedited photos, videos, and promotional copy from marketing accounts, they cemented his image as a blond beauty in the public's mind.

But being so beautiful that his fans collectively called him "big sister" and "mommy" wasn't ideal either. After all, he was pursuing the conventional route of a young male lead, not playing female roles.

His agent had no choice but to repeatedly stress to the staff responsible for fan engagement that they needed to steer the conversation toward labels like "noble young master," "wickedly charming hottie," "my husband," and "alpha and swoon-worthy, with sexual tension through the roof."

The first thing a production considered when casting was how well an actor's appearance fit the role. The labels and impressions the public associated with an entertainer were very important and had to be carefully cultivated and managed.

Xie Yibai had long stopped looking online for comments about himself. Even when he occasionally came across them, he would mark them as not interested. He left his Weibo and public-facing social media accounts entirely in his assistant's hands and read none of the comments from fans or haters, good or bad.

To live a contented life, one had to free oneself from other people's judgments. It was a profound truth that had taken him ten years to grasp.

Xie Yibai wanted to take things slowly, but his agent was pushing him hard. It couldn't be helped: he seemed to attract storms of controversy, and popularity was a double-edged sword. Even if he was famous for being hated, he was still famous, but too much hate would damage his reputation and commercial value. Marketing was a major monthly expense for him, and whenever he competed with others in the industry, it was commonplace for them to smear him and spread false stories. When that happened, he had to spend extra money managing public opinion.

In short, every breath he took cost money. In this rapidly changing internet age, there was no telling whether a heaven-sent star might appear the next second, snatching away his fans and resources. People were fickle, fawning over those above them and looking down on those below. To avoid being abandoned, he had to stay more active-compete on looks, compete on work, compete in every way possible.

Xie Yibai had gone an entire quarter without taking an acting job, politely declining every film and television project he had been approached about or was negotiating. That set his agent's alarm bells ringing. She feared he was under too much mental strain and had developed a psychological illness he found hard to speak about. Sister Hu tactfully asked if he had been feeling down lately and even booked him a counseling package with a renowned expert.

"I'm fine," Xie Yibai said. After filming the online game advertisement, he had dyed his hair back to pure black and adopted a tougher, sharper style of dress than before. His looks and physique, however, had nothing tough about them, so the change in style only made him look a little cooler on the surface.

"Then what's going on? Talk to me. Did something happen at home?" Sister Hu silenced her phones and tablet, ready to have a heart-to-heart with him.

"No. What could have happened at home?" Xie Yibai said sheepishly. "I just think I can't rush this change in direction. I have to wait until the role that suits me best comes along."

"Oh, so you're saying none of the scripts I picked out for you were right?"

"Mm... they weren't quite what I wanted."

Sister Hu drew in a sharp breath. "Yibai, can you tell me what kind of script would be what you want? If there's something you're unhappy with about the character, we can talk to the production team and have the screenwriter change it until it's the way you want."

Xie Yibai wasn't good at negotiating. Pressed on the key point, he couldn't find a way around it and could only say, "I don't like them. They don't feel right, and even if I took the roles, I wouldn't play them well."

"What kind of feeling? Could you explain in more detail?" Sister Hu took out the notebook and ballpoint pen she carried with her and prepared to listen. "What ideas do you have? Go ahead and tell me. I'm your agent, not an outsider. My job is to help you go farther and do better on this path, so whatever ideas or needs you have, I'll do my best to weigh them."

Under the gaze of her bright, intent eyes, Xie Yibai suddenly lost the desire to talk. He didn't know how to describe the feeling. It was as though his heart had turned to stone, and even listening close, all he could hear was silence.

When Sister Hu first became his agent, he had only been in his early twenties. He had treated her like a kind, understanding older sister and cheerfully told her everything. Sister Hu had taught him to keep his thoughts guarded and learn to stay silent, because the more he said, the more likely he was to slip up. Later, as they worked together day after day, he had indeed become more composed and reserved.

His desire to confide in someone hadn't disappeared just today, but now he realized that what he had to say from the heart had already run dry, like a dried-up river.

Xie Yibai smiled. "Never mind. You go on ahead. I want to be alone."

Sister Hu gave him a long look, gathered up her tote bag, and left, full of worry.

Xie Yibai noticed the slight purse of her lips at the end and knew something was wrong. He got ahead of her and called their mutual boss, Hao Jun.

"What's up, Yibai?" Hao Jun was entertaining people, and the background was filled with singing and echoes.

"Brother, I want a new agent," Xie Yibai said decisively.

"Huh?" Hao Jun's drawn-out reply came back over the line. "All right, all right. Come to the company another day and we'll talk in person? I happen to have some good news for you."

"When are you free? Give me an exact time. I'd like to do it as soon as possible."

"All right, all right. I'll have my secretary contact your assistant in a bit. Don't rush. If you haven't been feeling well these past couple of days, take a break from work and get some rest. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. You're still young."

"I'm not feeling unwell. She just can't help me any further," Xie Yibai said calmly. "If the company can't give me a more capable agent, I'll find one myself."

"Whatever you want. What you say goes, all right?"

Xie Yibai hung up and went back to resting his chin in his hand, staring into space.

He had no personal grudge against Sister Hu. His opinion of her was simply an entertainer's opinion of his agent. If she couldn't help him take his career to the next level, there was no need for them to keep working together.

They had been partners striving together for years, yet he was ending things just like that. Outsiders would inevitably criticize him for being heartless and disloyal. But such things were commonplace in the entertainment industry. Everyone wanted to climb higher, and there were two conditions for doing so: 1. Someone gave you a hand. 2. No one held you back.

Whatever Sister Hu couldn't secure for him, he would find someone else to handle.

Wasn't that simply how things were between people?

After Hao Jun finished his call with Xie Yibai, Sister Hu called him. Hao Jun had an idea what she wanted to say, too. When entertainers weren't famous enough, they had to accept their agents' supervision and control; once they became hugely successful, if their agents lacked more authoritative qualifications, they would be reduced to service providers.

The service industry was hard. If you couldn't keep your employer happy, you would be replaced. But being replaced didn't mean being unemployed, so it was no big deal. Hao Jun couldn't stand listening to women cry. He offered Sister Hu a few perfunctory words of comfort and ended the call.

He turned to the guest on the other sofa with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Mr. Zou Yan. I held you up from showing off your singing."

Zou Yan had turned off the backing track as soon as he answered the phone.

"It's all right. I was tired of singing anyway." Zou Yan had spent the previous hour singing with great enthusiasm, even taking off his jacket until he wore only a shirt.

"Yibai had a fight with his agent and insists I get him a new one," Hao Jun said, spreading his hands. "Can I just replace her whenever he says so?"

Pretending not to care, Zou Yan asked, "Why did they fight?"

"They had a difference of opinion."

"I happen to know a very capable agent."

Long since seasoned into a shrewd judge of people by the ups and downs and endless storms he had weathered, Hao Jun quickly caught the implication and played along. "Who?"

Zou Yan picked up his drink and smiled before he spoke. "Yin Ran."

"Oh, her." Hao Jun had heard the name-or rather, everyone in the industry knew who Yin Ran was. She had debuted as an actress in her early years, appearing in a national hit drama known in every household, and had been enormously popular for a time. In middle age, she had moved behind the scenes as an investor and producer. The works and newcomers she had brought out had achieved considerable success; she was a model of someone who succeeded at whatever she did.

Hao Jun had made Xie Yibai a star himself, and he couldn't feel at ease with someone so capable working behind his entertainer. Otherwise, after firing his agent, Xie Yibai might fire him, his boss, next.

But he couldn't afford to offend Zou Yan either. He really couldn't.

Hao Jun deflected. "I can't make that decision for Yibai. How about we leave it up to him?"