The worries of Director Hu and the others were entirely justified.

After all, Ning Yao was a titan in the industry, someone these third-tier players could only dream of reaching.

If Ning Yao decided she wanted to direct this series or purchase the script, wouldn't they all be facing unemployment? However, Wang Zhengdao's mind was racing with possibilities.

In an instant, countless scenarios flashed through his head, and with self-assured confidence, he smiled at Ning Yao and stated, "Miss Ning, I am the copyright holder of this script, and concurrently, its creator." Ning Yao was utterly astonished.

She never imagined that Wang Zhuo's impossibly handsome father could be the scriptwriter.

Was this something a wealthy dilettante could produce? It had to be a joke. "While I cannot transfer this particular script to you," Wang Zhengdao continued with a smile, "I can offer you first refusal on another script I am finalizing." Wang Zhuo immediately shot his father a warning glance—the message was clear: I brought Ning Yao here; find someone else to woo.

The heavy weight on Director Hu’s heart finally lifted, and the other actors relaxed their tense bodies, momentarily safe from the threat of being recast. "The script nearing completion?" Ning Yao asked, her doubt lingering. "When can I see it?" "The day after tomorrow, it will be finished by the day after tomorrow!" Wang Zhengdao’s reply exceeded both Wang Zhuo’s and Ning Yao’s expectations. "Then we will return the day after tomorrow," Wang Zhuo decided, feeling there was no point in lingering further.

He rose to leave. "Prepare it, and Miss Ning and I will come back then to review it." Wang Zhengdao had hoped to keep his son and the superstar for dinner, but seeing them rise to depart, he didn't press the matter, escorting them out with his entourage. "Oh, right, take this car," Wang Zhuo tossed the key to the Lotus to his father.

He had intended to take the eleven-seater van he’d lent his dad, but seeing how his father could genuinely use the sports car, he realized he'd have to buy a new vehicle after all.

Though he missed out on lunch with the superstar, Wang Zhengdao was quite pleased; another high-end sports car to drive meant life was truly carefree! "I am utterly crushed," While driving, Ning Yao managed a wry smile toward Wang Zhuo. "To tell you the truth, I expended immense effort to hire a very famous screenwriter for that script.

Compared to Mr.

Wang’s work, mine is utterly worthless." "I think the Director he hired is too unreliable," Wang Zhuo mused thoughtfully. "The two actresses are decent enough, but the male lead is questionable.

If you want to direct this show… I can put in a word for you." Ning Yao was instantly overjoyed.

She had fallen in love with that script at first sight.

If Wang Zhuo could help her realize her dream, it would be more rewarding than being handed a Best Actress trophy! "However, I suggest you still take a role in the production," Wang Zhuo advised with a smile. "It guarantees ratings, and you get to leave an eternal mark in a work you’ve poured your heart into.

Isn't that better?" Ning Yao considered this for a long moment before realizing Wang Zhuo was right.

In her stubborn pursuit of fame as a director, she had been stuck in a narrow mindset, refusing to act.

Looking back now, that idea seemed utterly foolish and naive—why had she insisted? What was the point? "It's wonderful knowing you," The superstar suddenly blurted out an unrelated comment.

Wang Zhuo glanced at her in surprise and was met with a brilliant smile. "Where should I drop you off?" Ning Yao lightly pressed the accelerator, feeling lighthearted and happy. "Let me make a call first," Wang Zhuo pulled out his phone and dialed a sleazy, greasy-looking fat man.

Fei Long answered immediately, laughing heartily, "Boss, what are your orders!" "Are you at the school?" Wang Zhuo detected the sounds of activity on a nearby track. "Be at the main gate in ten minutes.

Bring a car if you have one." Ten minutes later, the Jeep Liberty arrived punctually at the school gates.

Wang Zhuo got out and waved goodbye to Ning Yao, watching as she quickly sped away onto the road. "Who was that beauty?" Fatty Long suddenly materialized from somewhere, craning his neck to stare in the direction Ning Yao had vanished.

Ning Yao hadn't worn her large sunglasses while driving, and she had rolled down half the window when saying goodbye to Wang Zhuo.

Fei Long had only caught a glimpse of a delicate, bare face and hadn't registered that the person driving Wang Zhuo away was a major celebrity.

Wang Zhuo avoided the question and went straight to the point: "Come with me to buy a car." "Buying another car?" Fei Long exclaimed dramatically. "Big Brother, didn't you just buy one last month? Why another one now?" "Last month was a bicycle!" Wang Zhuo kicked him lightly in annoyance. "It’s all your fault, you scoundrel! You kept saying sports cars were better, and I’ve only driven it half a year before I’m tired of it! This time I’m getting a bigger one.

You recommend one!" Wang Zhuo didn't know much about cars.

In the past, he either bought whatever the dealership salesman talked him into, or relied on friends' recommendations.

Over time, he realized that out of everyone around him, Fei Long had the deepest knowledge of automobiles.

The man’s family ran an auto repair shop; he had loved cars since childhood and knew every model like the back of his hand, and the cars he suggested usually ended up satisfying Wang Zhuo. "It's the off-season right now, so there aren't many car shows," Fei Long considered, then asked, "What about your Lotus? Once you’re tired of it, lend it to your brother for a few days, eh?" "Lend you my foot," Wang Zhuo retorted. "I just gave it to my dad.

It’s too small; I don't like it." "Then why didn't you bring back his van?" Fei Long was puzzled.

That was an eleven-seater commercial van, and with the back seats removed, it was perfect for car intimacy—didn't Instructor Wang like that sort of thing? Wang Zhuo briefly explained his father’s situation with the script and casting actors.

Fei Long’s eyes lit up instantly; the phrase casting couch suddenly sprouted wings and soared joyfully through his mind! "Brother, my dearest brother!" The fat man lunged to hug Wang Zhuo’s arm but was shoved away. "He’s waiting for you to draw the storyboards for him.

You wait for a call!" Fei Long immediately grinned maniacally like a creature of the midnight hour, utterly carried away, as if he had already transformed into a director or producer, ready to take advantage of actresses via quid pro quo! Energized by such thrilling news, Fei Long was like a man injected with adrenaline, working tirelessly to drag Wang Zhuo through major auto cities, luxury showrooms, and sales centers.

The two spent the whole day and finally settled on a champagne-colored Audi B3, driving away the showroom model after swiping the card.

The unlicensed Audi B3 immediately drew countless stares as it pulled out of the auto center.

Fei Long produced sunglasses he had prepared in advance, and he and Wang Zhuo put them on, their stated purpose being to avoid paparazzi. "I love this vast night, and I love the singing nightingale.

I love that flower-like dream, embracing the tuberose, kissing the tuberose..." A melodious ringtone sounded; Wang Zhuo’s phone was ringing again. "Decadent music!" Fei Long immediately commented with a knowing smirk.

Wang Zhuo’s heart skipped a beat.

This ringtone hadn't sounded in a long time.

It heralded the presence of a beautiful, mature, yet unfortunate woman... "Wang Zhuo, how have you been recently?" The voice carried a hint of casual warmth, mixed with the unique allure of a mature woman.

Fei Long steered the car while trying desperately to angle his ear toward Wang Zhuo, eager to hear the identity of the caller.

Wang Zhuo smiled. "Not bad.

And you, Sister Ruan?" Sister Ruan? A string of question marks popped up in Fei Long's mind.

He'd heard of soft girls many times, but Sister Ruan was a first! "I’m the same as always," Ruan Mingqing said with a smile. "I just arrived in Jiangzhou today.

When are you free to get together?" Instantly, Wang Zhuo visualized the slender figure of this stunning, voluptuous, yet calmly composed married woman—her clear features, her fiery body—and recalled all the moments they had shared.

Ruan Mingqing was now officially a widow, although in modern society, that term is rarely used; on official household registration, it reads widowed.

In Japan, they called it miboujin—a type of fantasy object frequently appearing in certain adult films. "I'm not busy lately; I'm pretty much free," Wang Zhuo replied, smiling. "Sister Ruan, is there something specific bringing you here this time?" "Just here to relax a bit; I was getting stifled staying in Beijing too long," Ruan Mingqing explained. "I came alone.

You know, I don't have many friends in Jiangzhou." Wang Zhuo glanced at his watch; it was already six o'clock. "Then let's have dinner together." Fei Long listened silently as the two arranged a time and meeting spot.

Once Wang Zhuo hung up, he couldn't wait to ask, "Who is this Sister Ruan? I’ve never heard you mention her before." "She's the wife of the patient whose cerebral hemorrhage I treated," Wang Zhuo explained casually, pointing toward the roadside. "Pull over here." Fei Long pulled the car to the curb and stopped, smirking wickedly. "When did you start hitting on married women?" "Her husband has already passed away," Wang Zhuo said, then quickly added, sensing potential misinterpretation, "Don't jump to conclusions.

We are just casual friends!" "Sure, just casual friends!" Fei Long chuckled sleazily. "She must be a beauty, right? I don't believe for a second you’d be friends with her if she were ugly." Wang Zhuo paused, realizing Fei Long had a point.

If Ruan Mingqing were plain or not so stunning, he probably wouldn't have crossed paths with her.

Did he harbor some inappropriate thoughts toward her? "Oh, right, I have something to tell you," Fei Long said, uncharacteristically dropping his lecherous demeanor and growing serious for a moment. "Haozi and that woman are back together." At the last gathering, Sun Donghao had brought along his girlfriend, a print model.

Wang Zhuo had asked Fei Long to look into the woman's background.

The conclusion was that she had indeed worked as an independent model for a while, and while the level of exposure wasn't the highest in that circle, it was certainly beyond what ordinary people would accept.

However, she hadn't done it frequently, and Fei Long hadn't managed to procure photos yet.

Fei Long had subtly mentioned this to Sun Donghao before.

But partly because there was no concrete evidence, and partly because he didn't want to expose that he and Wang Zhuo were investigating secretly, he had only obliquely suggested to Sun Donghao that the girl had engaged in work similar to what the If You Are The One actresses did.

He even showed Sun Donghao an advertisement photo she took with another private model, along with some private photos from the other model.

After reviewing those images, Sun Donghao had broken up with the girl, but apparently, they had recently rekindled their old flame.