CHAPTER 122

Xiaoyuan ran home and locked herself in her room. The more she thought about it, the more wronged she felt, shedding countless tears until she eventually collapsed onto bed still dressed, falling asleep exhausted.

She woke the next morning disheveled, her entire body aching. Checking the mirror, she found her face streaked with dried tears.

After washing up and showering, refreshed and clear-headed, she reconsidered.

'So what if I didn't win an award? I can just work harder next time. Why am I so fixated on it?'

Covering her face, what troubled her more was last night's unpleasantness with Wei Zhuang in the car.

She'd lost her temper with Wei Zhuang.

Xiaoyuan sighed deeply, feeling a bitter ache in her heart.

'Is this what it feels like to love someone?'

Sweet when it's sweet, but agonizing when it hurts.

Xiaoyuan gave a bitter, twisted smile.

She liked Wei Zhuang more than she had imagined—relied on her, which was why she threw those little tantrums, subconsciously believing Wei Zhuang should endlessly indulge and dote on her, just like her brother.

But the result left her deeply disappointed and hurt.

Yet, thinking rationally, Wei Zhuang wasn't her brother, nor was she family. From Wei Zhuang's perspective, it really was just a minor award.

Reason aside, emotions weren't something she could control.

'Sigh.' Xiaoyuan wiped her eyes, then grew angry again. Why was she always making excuses for that woman, seeing things from her perspective? Her mind was in a mess—this was the first time she'd faced such emotional turmoil.

She had no idea how to handle it.

Xiaoyuan glanced at the calendar on the table—the 9th.

The Venice Film Festival opened on the 28th. Before then, she had a lot of promotional work to do, leaving her no time to deal with emotional matters.

Besides...

She swiped open WeChat, then closed it again.

She closed her moist eyelids——'Screw it, I'm done caring!'

"What's she sulking about?"

Wei Zhuang's slender fingers moved away from her phone screen as it darkened.

"What does she want?"

This was the first time someone had stormed off on her, and the feeling was... unpleasant. It was hard to describe, but she simply disliked the feeling.

She had never forced Xiaoyuan. As long as she made a request, Wei Zhuang had done her best to fulfill it. There were even times she considered refusing but didn't.

The woman's eyes darkened, her brows furrowing slightly before her expression turned complicated.

When did it start?

When did Xiang Xiaoyuan occupy such a significant space in her life?

Gao, the assistant, had clearly noticed the boss's foul mood these past few days. The workload was slightly heavier than usual, her words neither more nor fewer, but she ate noticeably less and spaced out a little longer during breaks.

Judging by the President's state, Xiang Xiaoyuan and she still hadn't made up.

When the Figaro September cover was released, it garnered much praise. It featured He Chenying and Xiang Xiaoyuan, both wearing black spaghetti strap long dresses, standing opposite each other, looking back at the camera in unison, their faces only a slight distance apart.

Both women displayed exceptional expressive power in front of the camera, with their eyes conveying rich emotion. He Chenying was incredibly elegant, her face slightly turned, a hint of allure at the corner of her mouth, while Xiaoyuan smiled faintly, her beautiful face tilted slightly back, her gaze spreading a hint of charm.

Even Assistant Gao had to admit—'D@mn it, they actually had good chemistry, a strong CP vibe!'

Since He Chenying was Tonghua's top star, the magazine she shot would naturally be placed on every floor of the office building, and even... in the CEO's office reading room lounge.

Assistant Gao felt the President's face seemed even worse; her profile was so cold it could slice through the air.

Gao inwardly sighed repeatedly:

'Who told you not to comfort the poor girl?'

'Back when they were filming, I already felt your foundation was shaky...'

'And He Chenying is her idol, gentle, good-looking... God, the more I think about it, the more I worry for you, Lao Wei!'

Thud! The magazine was slammed onto the table with a loud noise.

Assistant Gao didn't dare to speak, quickly shutting the curtains on her inner monologue.

Accompanying the magazine were interview videos of the two women. Assistant Gao didn't dare turn on the sound, reading through the subtitles instead. After watching, she smiled subtly and set the video timestamp to the "ideal type" question segment.

"President Wei, there's also Miss Xiang's interview. Shall I put it on?"

Seeing Wei Zhuang didn't object, Assistant Gao projected it onto the large screen.

"I prefer someone older than me," Xiaoyuan said with slightly curved eyes and a shy smile, "someone who can give me a sense of security—mainly emotional security. And someone who can inspire me, both in life and career..."

Her radiant smile lit up her fair face with a faint blush. "Also, they have to be good-looking!"

Her smile was so dazzling that even Assistant Gao couldn't help smiling along, stealing a glance at Wei Zhuang.

The boss was intently watching the screen without blinking. Though she didn't say anything, the air seemed less chilly now, and the corners of her lips appeared to be curling up slightly.

Assistant Gao pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile.

"Is 'The Long Night' premiering on the 29th?" the President suddenly asked.

"Yes, that's tomorrow." Assistant Gao thought to herself—'you clearly remember, yet you're asking me.'

The Venice Film Festival isn't held on the main island but on Lido, Venice's second-largest island. Lido is a narrow, elongated island just 15-20 minutes by boat from the main island. It's usually very quiet, a wealthy residential area of Venice, and a famous resort, as comfortable as a utopia.

Every year during the film festival in August and September, it transforms into a gathering place for global media reporters, film professionals, and industry operators.

This was Xiaoyuan's first time in Venice. They arrived on the opening day and checked into a five-star hotel on the main island. The island was swarming with reporters, editors, various influencers, fans, and tourists—crowded and bustling.

Blue skies, white clouds, sunshine, beaches, and Renaissance architecture created breathtaking scenery. Here, celebrities could be encountered everywhere. Not considering herself an international star, she didn't mind exposure issues. The moment she set down her luggage, she grabbed her camera and headed out.

She took photos of buildings, the sea, and the sky, sitting by the shore for a while as the sunset painted the ocean orange. A line from a childhood poem suddenly came to mind—she wasn't sure if it fit—"A strip of sunset spreads across the water, half the river emerald, half the river red."

Xiaoyuan looked down at her recent selfie—her newly dyed minty ash-brown hair photographed beautifully.

She exhaled and sent the selfie to Wei Zhuang. The moment the photo was sent, she covered the screen with her hand, her heart racing uncontrollably.

The next second, she frowned her nose in annoyance and patted her face.

'What am I doing?! I held out for twenty days, and I still broke down!'

Her phone suddenly vibrated, startling her so much she nearly dropped it. Flipping it open, she saw it was a call from Ruan Qing.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then answered.

"Sweetheart, where are you? Come back quickly to try on the gown again—there's still time for alterations. Oh, and Director Huo wants to see it too."

Director Huo Bijun, who not only loved beauty himself but also insisted his actors look their best off-screen, was particularly concerned about the outfits of the other two cast members for this globally spotlighted film festival. It was said he'd personally selected the suit for veteran actor Zeng Li.

As for the female lead's attire, while he couldn't gift clothing to avoid impropriety, he still demanded to review the styling.

"...Oh, okay." Xiaoyuan responded. As she stood up, her phone vibrated again in her palm. Unable to resist, she checked WeChat once more.

[Beautiful.] Wei Zhuang had replied.

Xiaoyuan stood frozen for several minutes, but in the end, she didn't respond. Gazing at the sunset, she exhaled deeply, then smiled.

The premiere of "The Long Night" was scheduled for the 29th, the festival's second day. The main creative team traveled by boat from the main island to Lido, trailed by international media photographers the entire way.

Huo Bijun, dressed in emerald green satin that complemented his tall, gym-toned physique and handsome features, was utterly dazzling. Veteran actor Zeng Li wore the burgundy velvet suit Huo had selected—solemn yet vibrant—walking to Huo's right. To Huo's left was Xiaoyuan in a black off-the-shoulder chiffon gown, her hair up to reveal flawless porcelain shoulders and swan-like neck, adorned only by a single golden butterfly-wing earring.

The three walked onto the spotlight-bathed red carpet with faint smiles.

Although it wasn't the main competition, and there weren't many red carpet events, interviews, or promotions, for these brief two to three minutes, the focus of the global film industry was on them, on her. Her work would be seen by film critics, peers, media reporters, editors, and fans worldwide.

This was her representative work.

This was her validation.

Light and shadow danced in Xiaoyuan's eyes like dazzling stars.

After a momentary daze, her lips naturally curved upward as she smiled at the cameras.

—Her moment had arrived.

There would be many more such starry nights ahead.

Back home, the Chinese film industry watched this festival closely. For Chinese cinema, merely being selected for three major international festivals was remarkable, even without main competition status—especially for "The Long Night," this stylistically divergent sequel that had somehow broken through.

The red carpet would be live-streamed simultaneously, and photos would also be updated and uploaded to major social media platforms.

Assistant Gao scrolled through Weibo while stealing glances at her boss, then at the large screen displaying the red carpet footage from Venice's official photographers.

There was Huo Bijun, preening like a peacock, the dignified Zeng Li, and the incredibly dazzling Xiang Xiaoyuan.

Truthfully, male actors could never compete with female stars for red carpet appeal.

And for Chinese actresses, international red carpets were the ultimate proving ground—a 360-degree magnifying glass where presence mattered more than beauty.

In the past, many domestic actresses had walked the red carpets of Europe's three major film festivals, but very few had actual works to showcase. Most were sponsored by fashion brands—beautiful indeed, yet lacking the confident aura, their restrained smiles betraying a hint of unease in unfamiliar territory.

But Xiaoyuan was different. Her slender jade-like shoulders were exposed, her flawless and radiant skin captured in close-up as she strolled down the red carpet, waving naturally with an effortless grace, her smile gentle and enchanting, her long gown trailing elegantly behind her.

A slow-motion side profile shot focused on the delicate butterfly-wing earring resting by her ear, like a golden glimmer threading through her dark hair.

Assistant Gao's eyes blurred, and she couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.

'That earring was so beautiful! Even though it was just one, she wore it so beautifully!'

'This is what true starlight and charm looks like!'

She glanced at her boss, Wei Zhuang, who was intently watching the big screen, her eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions—admiration, sentiment, scrutiny, and even a trace of bewilderment.

Wei Zhuang suddenly murmured softly, "This is the stage she truly belongs to. That's why I called it a 'minor award'..."

Assistant Gao was speechless. 'My dear President, at least say what you really mean clearly!'

Wei Zhuang watched Xiaoyuan on the screen—this was her first time seeing her walk the red carpet.

She was so confident, dazzling, with clear bright eyes and a powerful yet translucent aura. This version of her possessed an astonishing, captivating charm.

Even Wei Zhuang could feel this allure.

She felt slightly dazed—was this the same girl who nestled in her arms, blinking her eyes and speaking to her in that soft, tender voice?

At this moment, Assistant Gao's voice pulled her back. "President Wei, if I may say something—that night, Miss Xiang was just acting coquettish with you. She wanted you to comfort her."

Wei Zhuang froze momentarily, then fell into silence for several minutes.

During those minutes, Assistant Gao's heart pounded with anxiety, terrified that her boss might say something like "Too troublesome, cancel the contract," which would turn good intentions into disaster.

Fortunately, Wei Zhuang merely remained silent, seemingly struggling with some emotion.

Finally, her gaze swept over and she uttered words that made Assistant Gao doubt her own hearing.

She asked, "Then how do I comfort her?"

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