Chapter 17: Trouble—This Guy Wants to Betray Me

“Fei Fei, is this news reliable?” Meng Ziyi closed the book in her hand, her fingers lightly tapping the cover. “A freshman managed to invite Professor Tian?”

She frowned slightly. “And if they’re really casting, why hasn’t the department heard a thing?”

Wang Yifei glanced around and leaned in to whisper, “I have a friend from my hometown who’s in this year’s directing class. He secretly told me this morning…”

She pulled up a blurry photo from her phone’s gallery. “Look, it clearly says Art Director: Tian Zhuangzhuang.”

“I heard this project is going through a ‘teaching experiment’ channel,” Wang Yifei continued, “so the casting isn’t public — they’re only picking from current students.”

Meng Ziyi’s breath caught slightly.

She was somewhat intrigued!

Every year, Beijing Film Academy has hundreds of student productions, but most of them are just for fun.

Having a fifth-generation director like Tian Zhuangzhuang personally overseeing was incredibly rare.

“What’s the guy’s name?” she asked casually.

“Jiang Ye, from the BFA directing class.”

The latte art in her coffee began to blur.

Meng Ziyi gazed out at the ginkgo trees outside the window, her mind racing.

She had attended Changchun No.11 High School—not just any high school.

She hadn’t taken the art entrance exam; she got in through the regular high school route.

As for why she suddenly made such a drastic change, the reason was simple—she had just been dumped.

Her first love had left her before the college entrance exams, and she had felt she couldn’t stay in Changchun another day.

A friend studying acting in Yanjing was about to take an exam and asked her to sign up with him.

Her goal was simple: to become a big star so that the guy who dumped her would see her on TV all the time!

To make that bastard regret it!

So she went to take the exam with her friend. The acting student friend didn’t get in, but she did.

Due to time constraints, she couldn’t apply to Shanghai Theatre Academy, so she applied to Beijing Film Academy, Central Academy of Drama, Communication University of China, and the People’s Liberation Army Arts Academy.

Surprisingly, she met the cutoff and ranked well in most, except the Army Arts Academy.

She was rejected in the second round there because she had to sing.

Life was always full of such twists and turns.

But after enrolling, she realized how difficult it was to make it in the entertainment industry without connections.

…

The cafeteria was located on the first floor of the Morning Star Building on the east side of campus. It wasn’t large, but it was clean and bright.

White long tables paired with blue chairs, walls adorned with movie posters of outstanding alumni—from Zhang Yimou’s “Red Sorghum” to Lu Chuan’s “City of Life and Death”—silently reminding students of their heritage.

The signature dish at the window was the “Director’s Set Meal,” braised pork with fried egg, said to be the favorite of the class of ’78 seniors.

Acting students preferred the low-fat “Actor’s Salad,” while the corner always had a long line for the “Photographer’s Fried Rice,” spicy with egg and full of wok hei.

Jiang Ye sat by the window with his tray, facing Zhang Ming, a classmate who had “accidentally” leaked the news to his hometown friend.

“Is everything settled?” Jiang Ye asked casually as he picked up a piece of braised pork.

Zhang Ming pushed up his glasses. “I told her… but why did you tell her?”

Jiang Ye sipped his soup unhurriedly. “Because Wang Yifei is Meng Ziyi’s best friend.”

“Ah?” Zhang Ming’s eyes widened. “Then why not just go straight to Meng Ziyi?”

“That would be no fun,” Jiang Ye chuckled. “I want her to come to me on her own.”

“Oh, so you like Meng Ziyi?”

?????

Jiang Ye nearly spat out his soup.

Zhang Ming thought he understood. “I’ve heard of her—she’s the campus belle of Beijing Film Academy. Her admission photo was on the school magazine cover, and she has no shortage of admirers!”

“Good luck chasing her, though!”

“What are you talking about?” Jiang Ye wiped his mouth. “I just think she’s perfect for the role.”

Seeing Zhang Ming’s disbelief, Jiang Ye put down his chopsticks and grew serious. “Do you know the scarcity principle?”

Zhang Ming shook his head in confusion.

“It’s a classic psychology theory,” Jiang Ye drew a circle on the table with his chopsticks. “People assign higher value to things they have to work hard to obtain. Like at an auction, people bid frantically for items, but they despise the same items handed to them for free.”

He pointed to the long line at the cafeteria window. “Look, it’s the same fried rice, right? Why do people line up twenty minutes instead of just grabbing the ready-made set? Because our brain automatically equates ‘difficulty of acquisition’ with ‘value judgment.’”

“So you’re saying…” Zhang Ming pondered.

“If I hand her the script, to Meng Ziyi it’s just another ordinary opportunity,” Jiang Ye wiped the water off the table. “But if she ‘accidentally’ discovers this secret project and goes all out to fight for the role…”

“She’ll cherish the chance like a prized trophy.”

Jiang Ye narrowed his eyes but left out one thing.

If she didn’t come to him, how could he get her to invest money?

People want both recognition and money!

“What if she doesn’t take the bait?”

“Then we hold an open casting,” Jiang Ye shrugged. “Just more interviews, a bit more tiring.”

Though he said this, his gaze unconsciously drifted to the cafeteria entrance.

If his judgment was right, given Meng Ziyi’s character, she’d probably…

“Hey… are you Director Jiang Ye?”

?????

The braised pork he had just picked up slipped back onto his tray with a “plop.”

He slowly turned his head, and Meng Ziyi was standing half a meter behind him.

When did she get here?

Not a sound!

So efficient…

Today she wore a denim jacket over a plain white T-shirt, light gray sweatpants, and canvas shoes.

Her hair was tied casually in a high ponytail, her clean face without lipstick, only a few beads of sweat on her nose, probably from running over.

“I’m Jiang Ye,” he said, putting down his chopsticks. “You are…?”

“Meng Ziyi, sophomore in acting,” she said, immediately pulling out a chair beside them and sitting down with such force that Zhang Ming’s soup spilled.

“I heard you’re looking for a female lead?”

The girl seemed bold but her ears were faintly flushed.

“You’re well-informed,” Jiang Ye teased. “But we haven’t officially started recruiting…”

“Can I try? Um…”

She pulled out a thick stack of materials from her canvas bag, the top photo showing her in ancient costume, red sleeves flowing, eyes sparkling—a stark contrast to the girl in sweatpants before him.

“There are too many people here,” Jiang Ye suddenly closed the folder and lowered his voice. “How about… we talk in my dorm?”

Meng Ziyi’s eyes widened in shock, the materials in her hands dropping to the floor with a “thud.” She instinctively leaned back, and the chair creaked under the strain.

Dorm? No good, this guy wants to take advantage!