Who Needs a CEO? I Choose Stardom

Chapter 71: Chapter 67: Rattling an Abacus in Beijing, Heard All the Way in Shanghai

With An Xin’s arrival, the production team got back on track.

But just a few days later, trouble started brewing out of nowhere.

The trouble started when the official Weibo account for *Breakup* announced the recasting. An Xin’s fans and Luo Susu’s fans were mortal enemies. When Luo Susu’s fans discovered their nemesis had taken their idol’s role, while their idol herself remained silent—as if furious but afraid to speak out—how could they not be anxious?

After all, both actresses were from the same company. One had debuted several years earlier, and even if the fans refused to admit it, her skills were simply stronger.

In this situation, it was obvious that their dear Susu was being bullied!

One had to admit, fans were truly an adorable bunch.

They could feel your struggles, rejoice in your joy, and would fearlessly cut through any obstacle for you!

Soon, An Xin’s Weibo was swarmed by Luo Susu’s fans.

Clicking on her latest post, the top comments read as follows:

[That woman named An! Isn’t there a limit to bullying? You’re from the same company, for god’s sake. Even a vicious dog wouldn’t fight for scraps this ugly. You’re stealing a movie today, what’s next? Robbing people on the street tomorrow?]

[Sis, robbing people is a stretch. Stealing a man is more like it. Speaking of which, aren’t she and her husband super cold to each other? I heard they divorced ages ago but can’t announce it because their endorsement deals haven’t expired.]

[Oh? Is there new tea?]

[If you ask me, as a senior in the industry, she should be more gracious. Why not go home, take care of her kids, and give the younger generation a chance? Does she really have to hog all the good resources?］

[My heart aches for Susu. She’d already been filming for days, then she gets kicked off the set. How heartbreaking must that be. @Xiongdi Media, your own artists are fighting amongst themselves and you’re just pretending to be blind? Our Susu must have had eight lifetimes of bad luck to sign with such a useless company!]

[There needs to be an explanation for this. If you don’t make it clear, we’ll start a boycott of the movie. @Actress Luo Susu]

[You’re just not working hard yourself, and now you see someone else successfully transitioning their career and you’re green with envy, aren’t you? Instead of wasting energy suppressing your junior, maybe you should keep a better eye on your own husband. It’d save you from the constant divorce rumors.]

...

It was no wonder Luo Susu’s fans were so agitated.

This was the female lead of a movie, not some minor role!

They were all looking forward to the movie’s Valentine’s Day release, but suddenly the role was recast—and with a rival, no less. After waiting several days without a single word of explanation, no one could tolerate it.

Fans take after their idols. An Xin’s fans were comparatively more chill. By the time they realized something was wrong, a while had already passed.

’If someone comes to your door to bully you and you don’t get angry, are you some kind of saint?’

Since Luo Susu’s fans had started the fight, An Xin’s fans certainly weren’t afraid to join in.

These dedicated fans and drama followers might have weaker combat power than the rabid fans of a traffic idol, but that was only relatively speaking.

When it came to arguing online, everyone had gone through nine years of compulsory education. Who didn’t know how to use a keyboard?

And so, the counterattack was swiftly launched:

[They say a dog is like its owner. The idol is petty, and her fans are just as narrow-minded. Take a look at what kind of movie this is. Would our Sister An even need to steal it? She can get roles like this whenever she wants, okay?]

[Yeah, who doesn’t know that if it’s from our Sister An, it’s guaranteed to be high-quality? We wouldn’t dare compare her work ethic to a certain actress, who just scoops up anything, good or bad, without a second thought.]

[Maybe a certain idol got into trouble, and our Sister An had no choice. They’re from the same company, and when the higher-ups asked for a favor, she couldn’t just stand by and watch. She had to help clean up the mess!]

[I’m dying laughing. Take a look at your own idol’s status. My Sister stealing her resources? Pfft—I haven’t heard anything this hilarious in thirty years. I can’t help it, sorry.]

...

If they said their idol had bad taste, that was something they could grudgingly tolerate, because Luo Susu really wasn’t very picky about her scripts. But when it escalated to personal attacks, it was a different story.

For a fan, what’s the biggest fear?

’Your idol’s reputation collapsing!’

’Those little bitches on the other side are actually cursing our Susu to have something bad happen to her?!’

’We absolutely can’t let them get away with it!’

And so, after just one night, the war had brewed into a thundering storm.

The next day, An Xin went home.

She didn’t explain herself online, nor did she argue with anyone on set. She didn’t complain about being wronged or shed a single tear. More importantly, she didn’t stoop so low as to leak what had happened with Luo Susu. Her attitude was simple: ’I’m washing my hands of this. Find someone else!’

Clearly, she wanted the company to take a stand.

’I came to save the day and ended up covered in shit. You want to protect Luo Susu’s "pure" image at the expense of my reputation?’

’Not a chance!’

If Luo Susu quit, they could hurry and make up for the lost time. But if An Xin left, they would lose half a month, all told. For a movie with a schedule of just over a month, not even a god could save a production in this state.

When they called An Xin, her agent was very polite, simply stating that his client was ill and there was nothing to be done.

As for what kind of illness?

’She’s so upset she can’t even eat. Isn’t that an illness?’

This wasn’t her being difficult; it was someone else causing trouble. The blame couldn’t be pinned on her.

The company had swallowed its pride to ask An Xin to clean up Luo Susu’s mess. Surely it wasn’t impossible for them to find someone to take over for An Xin, right?

’Don’t tell me Luo Susu is the company’s precious treasure, while our An Xin is just some weed?’

’They’d better think carefully. It’s not like we can’t afford the breach of contract fee.’

With An Xin’s status, if it weren’t for their many years of pleasant cooperation and the fact that the company had sincerely given her shares, she could have started her own studio and gone independent long ago.

The screenwriter, Lu Yi, was losing more and more hair. The red veins in the director’s eyes became more and more prominent. And the producer, President Wang, was breaking out in cold sores one after another!

For some reason, Luo Susu and her team were unwilling to issue a clarification.

Zhou Dawei was not happy.

"What the hell is all this? I’m supposed to go home and get married at the end of the year! Damn it, if this keeps up, when will we ever finish filming? If this delays me getting a wife, just you watch what I’ll do!"

As the award-winning male lead, he had been obediently following the schedule without complaint. But not only was the director being a finicky pain in the ass, but the female leads were also causing one problem after another.

’Sigh, what a miscalculation. I should have asked for more pay.’

Ni Bingyan gave him a complicated look.

’Could bad luck be contagious?’ she thought to herself.

Two of her movies had already fallen through. If a third one went under, people definitely wouldn’t blame it on the female leads anymore.

Zhou Dawei, however, thought she was intrigued. He straightened his back, flicked his short hair, and said jokingly:

"What’s up? Never seen a good man like me before? I know handsome and faithful guys like me are a rare breed in this industry, but even if you’re interested, you’re too late! My wife is amazing! I have no plans to trade her in."

Ni Bingyan: "..."

She was speechless.

’He probably thinks he’s hilarious.’

’No wonder he has such a bad reputation. Who could stand such a smart mouth?’

’Well, it seems his wife has excellent immunity.’

She’d taken a role in *Breakup*, and in the process, she had run into three different couples who were masters of public displays of affection. Whether they were married, unmarried, or raising kids, every couple seemed to have a great relationship. She didn’t know what kind of bad luck she’d stumbled into.

’Whatever. As a chronic single, I’m not afraid of their PDA.’ Ni Bingyan perked up her ears to listen for the latest developments.

She never expected that when she woke up, the world would have changed.

’I’m really too much of a slacker. I can’t even get the fresh gossip happening right next to me.’

President Wang was on the phone some distance away, but his roars were still audible: "You have the nerve to ask the company to clean up the mess you made? Who do you think the company will side with, you or her? Huh? You’re having a baby and raising it, who knows how long you’ll be on break? The production is in a full-blown crisis, and who caused it? You were desperate to take the role, and then you couldn’t even film it! Am I supposed to blame myself for being blind enough to choose you? If this isn’t handled, she’s going to go independent, and you guys are just going to play dead? FUCK YOUR MOTHER! Is there a hole in your brain? You two have a marriage certificate, what the hell are you afraid of?! Will it kill you to just go public?! I’ve fucking had it!"

They had been married for several years but had stubbornly kept it a secret for the sake of a "pure" image.

They claimed it was an artist’s private matter and there was no need to announce it.

In reality, who didn’t know? They were just afraid that if they announced it, their casting options would become limited.

But if you don’t want your career to be affected, then don’t get married, right?

What era is this? Who still pulls the "hidden marriage" stunt?

Fans these days are much more tolerant. As long as you’re not messing around, there’s nothing wrong with being married and acting in romantic roles.

They were all old foxes. President Wang could also figure out that Luo Susu and her husband were trying to use this opportunity to force An Xin out.

The two of them were scheming in Beijing so loudly that people all the way in Shanghai could hear them. You had to wonder if they were missing a screw.

With such disregard for the bigger picture, how could the boss be happy?

If she weren’t pregnant, the company might have been reluctant to let her go. But now, she wouldn’t be able to handle high-intensity work for at least a year or two. The company could grit its teeth and cultivate a new star.

Putting others aside, just look at Ni Bingyan, who was right under their noses. Her qualifications were excellent in all aspects. She could already carry a film as the female lead, so was it possible she couldn’t handle a TV drama?

In two years, forget how many they’d film—with the company’s resources, as long as her acting was good enough, they could orchestrate at least two "Best Actress" awards for her in television, without even interfering with her film career.

By the time Luo Susu returned, Ni Bingyan would have long since become the new top-tier actress.

She couldn’t compete in looks, couldn’t compete in age, and crucially, the other woman was still unmarried. When that time came, what would Luo Susu, dragging a child along, have to compete with?

No wonder the fans all said she was petty!

In his opinion, that couple was a match made in heaven—two of a kind, and neither of them had an ounce of foresight!

The company applied pressure. It was clear that if she caused any more trouble, she would be the first one to be dealt with.

An arm can’t out-twist a thigh.

After several rounds of maneuvering, Luo Susu posted a clarification on her Weibo that very evening.