Fate Trading System – Chapter 172

Plan A

Spirit Alliance 13

Embrace

“Little hamster, you didn’t think going out of town would let you escape our deal, did you?”

During the video call, facing Chu Qiu’s smiling face on the other end, Su Xin wanted to throw something at her face.

Seeing Su Xin’s surprised expression, the smile in Chu Qiu’s eyes deepened. The little hamster must have just finished showering – her bangs were still dripping with water, her soft lips tinted with moisture, looking like rain-washed rose petals about to bloom. Those large bright eyes held a hint of confusion.

“Of course not, so what are your instructions, boss?”

“Check your suitcase, there’s a surprise.”

Su Xin felt a sense of foreboding. She hadn’t packed her luggage herself – her assistant Xiao Yu had done it for her, so she hadn’t looked carefully at what was inside.

Su Xin positioned her fingers and went to check her suitcase, sure enough finding unfamiliar clothes.

“What the f*ck is with this obsession with pajamas!”

Even from so far away, wanting someone to wear pajamas during a video call – this fetish was way too peculiar.

“Looks like you’ve found my gift. Do you like it? Isn’t it a nice surprise?”

Thanks a lot.

Su Xin pulled out the cute pajama set – it was Pikachu-themed.

What should I do about my boss’s extreme pajama play obsession?

“Hurry up and change in the bathroom. Though if you want to change in front of me, I don’t mind – you’ve done it plenty of times before anyway.”

On Chu Qiu’s end, the background appeared to be her company office, she was video calling from her computer, with the decorative panel behind her office visible.

“Fine, fine, but can you really fall asleep just watching me like this?”

“Who knows? I just want to admire how you look in the pajamas I bought. It makes me feel good.”

It was a magical feeling – the girl on the other end really wearing the pajamas she had personally picked out, looking cute, exactly how she liked.

Su Xin didn’t particularly mind, after all she had changed clothes in front of Chu Qiu numerous times, including changing clothes every morning.

Su Xin barely bought any clothes herself – all her clothes, pants, and shoes were handled by Chu Qiu, from outer to inner wear, including underwear.

Su Xin took off her bathrobe, revealing a sailor-style bra that held her modest curves, the depth between accentuating her beauty.

From far away on the other end, Chu Qiu took in everything through the screen, unconsciously tapping her fingers on the desk, feeling she really had become like what those random internet commenters called a CEO blinded by lust – abandoning all work just to connect a call to watch her little hamster put on the pajamas she’d sent.

“I’m changed.”

So cute.

Chu Qiu felt these words in her heart but didn’t voice her admiration, only expressing her thoughts through her expression and gaze.

The warm yellow color naturally complemented skin tones, making Su Xin’s already fair skin appear even more delicate and incredibly cute.

Chu Qiu felt her heart soften, becoming somewhat uncontrolled.

“Let’s end it here for tonight. Get some sleep early, and good luck with filming tomorrow.”

“Okay, goodnight boss.”

“Mm.”

The video call ended. Su Xin flopped onto the bed, rolling around in the blankets. Going to sleep now was impossible since it was only just past nine – not her usual bedtime. Even if she tried to force herself to sleep, it wouldn’t work.

Su Xin watched some variety shows and browsed Weibo for a while.

Her Weibo followers were still growing, and comments kept increasing under her only post.

@SuXinV: Arrived at the film crew~ Fighting! 【Cat Head】

【Image】

The phone Rabbit bought for Su Xin was the latest model from a well-known brand, famous for its camera capabilities. How could a celebrity not have a phone with amazing photo features? It instantly enhanced anyone’s appearance, though even more flawless for those already beautiful – though photography isn’t plastic surgery or photo editing.

Su Xin was now considered a minor celebrity with tens of thousands of fans, despite only appearing on one variety show. Someone immediately commented below:

@JianMo: Yaaas, sister’s face is absolutely flawless.

Her body’s beauty held no aggression, yet wasn’t weak either. It wasn’t sharp like dazzling sunlight, nor soft like an innocent flower, but rather perfectly balanced – an understated beauty that wasn’t immediately stunning, but cute and pleasant, becoming more appealing the longer you looked.

Chu Qiu had set her little hamster’s Weibo as a special follow, so her phone immediately notified her when Su Xin posted.

They’d said goodnight an hour ago, but this little one still wasn’t sleeping and was taking selfies.

Chu Qiu liked the post and reposted it.

@ChuQiuV: Goodnight.

Chu Qiu had far more followers than typical entertainment company CEOs or other industry executives, partly because of her good looks, and partly because she rarely posted. When she did post, her celebrities would like and repost it, and these celebrities were all stars of varying fame. Naturally, her follower count kept growing.

The celebrities who were still awake and lazily scrolling through Weibo were shocked when they saw this post.

They couldn’t believe it – their usually cold-faced, dignified boss actually reposted someone’s selfie and said goodnight. This had never happened before – something must be up.

Looking more carefully at whose post was reposted, they immediately understood.

Isn’t this the new talent the boss is heavily promoting? The rookie who hasn’t produced any work but is already on the hottest variety show? The one who immediately signed with a top agent and has access to incredible resources?

Good heavens, it was truly enviable – how could someone have such good luck?

From the moment she appeared, Su Xin became the target of many people’s jealousy. Although she hadn’t exploded in popularity, everyone in the industry knew what kind of future awaited her, making others absolutely green with envy.

When those celebrities saw this Weibo post, some lost their confidence. In this circle, there were people you could offend and those you couldn’t. You might offend some popular stars, risking low popularity or even using the controversy to make a comeback through negative publicity. In this industry, people never feared having a bad reputation as much as having no attention at all. That’s why some people went to great lengths to create fake scandals for attention – having no one care about you was harder to bear than being criticized.

You could offend celebrities, peers, directors, but you couldn’t offend major backers.

Offending celebrities wasn’t a big deal – you’d just avoid meeting them later, not appear on the same variety shows or film sets. Whoever was more famous could overshadow the other. Offending directors wasn’t serious either – even if you offended a famous director, others would still cast you as long as your reputation and fan-drawing power remained strong. But offending an entertainment company? That wasn’t so simple.

After seeing her Weibo being reposted with those two words, Su Xin sent a goodnight message to her boss on WeChat, put her phone on charge, and closed her eyes to sleep.

The next day on set, the atmosphere was particularly harmonious.

They were filming the second unit’s story. The main cast remained while the actors from the first unit had left.

After brief introductions, the director called for preparation to begin filming.

Su Xin had never played such a tragic role before. The character was a young lady from a prestigious family who had received excellent upbringing. After her family’s downfall and being married to a gambling addict, her life plummeted. But that wasn’t the cruelest part. To her, the surrounding environment was completely alien – their values and perspectives were on entirely different levels. She could never stoop to doing despicable things, nor would she lose her dignity and curse like a shrew when bullied. Life became increasingly cruel to her, yet she didn’t let it corrupt her. But because she refused to become like others, she faced even more severe ostracism.

Her distinct temperament and beauty drew unwanted attention from other men – the tragedy of a delicate, beautiful woman. Though her inner strength emerged, and despite her dissatisfaction with her husband, she never contemplated being unfaithful.

The scene Su Xin was currently filming highlighted this aspect of her character. She was washing clothes by the river, and even in coarse hemp clothing, she carried herself differently.

“Well, well, young lady, doing laundry?”

A village man approached with a leering smile. A flash of panic crossed Su Xin’s face as she hurriedly put her clothes in the bucket, intending to leave.

“What’s wrong? Why leave before finishing the laundry? Am I scary? Those delicate white hands of yours probably can’t wring out clothes properly. Let brother help you.”

The man moved to press in on her with a snicker, but Su Xin immediately bent down to dodge.

“I can manage myself.”

Su Xin rejected him coldly and turned to leave, but he blocked her path.

The man spewed vulgar words with a smirk that instantly provoked disgust.

Forced to defend herself, Su Xin grabbed her washing mallet and started hitting the man repeatedly. Just as he was about to retaliate forcefully, a woman approached from the distance.

It was the man’s wife. He was known for being henpecked, cowering like a chicken before his wife while acting tough everywhere else.

With a tigress at home, the man thought about how he’d surely get beaten by his fierce wife if she discovered him flirting with this woman. So when his wife approached, he immediately turned the tables.

“You shameless v*xen! I have a woman at home, why would I be seduced by someone like you? Wife, come judge this for yourself! I was just passing by the river when this little s*ut tried to seduce me into doing indecent things!”

The man’s words were obviously full of holes, and the woman’s face showed doubt at first, but that doubt quickly disappeared. She started hurling abuse at Su Xin, speaking rapidly.

Su Xin’s face showed only numbness, as if she was used to it. She picked up her clothes and walked past them without a glance.

At first, she would have argued back fiercely, but after repeated false accusations, she understood that arguing was pointless. Perhaps these people knew the truth deep down, but they either refused to acknowledge it or simply enjoyed seeing her in such a miserable state.

“Good, cut!”

The scene was approved. Playing the sleazy thug and the cursing shrew wasn’t particularly challenging. After the scene, both actors smiled at Su Xin. They didn’t have many scenes – the woman playing the wife only had one more scene of slander before her part was done.

“How does it feel to act?”

The director came over to speak to Su Xin. He was known for his explosive temper, like a powder keg that could blow at any moment, but today he was unusually friendly. Other actors made faces of disbelief when he wasn’t looking.

“Very good, thank you director. Your direction is excellent.”

Su Xin responded politely, showing proper junior respect.

“Who was your teacher? Come to think of it, I haven’t asked which school you graduated from. But since you’re CEO Chu’s new talent she’s working hard to promote, you must have had famous teachers, right? I might know them. Your acting isn’t bad, though a bit green, but with more practice, becoming a big star won’t be a problem. As expected of CEO Chu, her eye for talent remains excellent.”

The director was quite diplomatic, praising Chu Qiu along the way – though complimenting her was clearly his main goal.

“Thank you for the praise, director. I studied under Teacher Zhang Lin for a while, he taught me a lot, and also Teacher Mo Bai.”

Mo Bai was the acting school professor who had given Su Xin private lessons for a month.

“Ah, so you’re a distinguished student of famous teachers! I’ve worked with Old Zhang before – his superb acting skills are no joke. No wonder, no wonder. Indeed, the younger generation is formidable.”

There are many hugely successful people in the entertainment circle now, with new stars emerging constantly. With increasingly diverse shows and new creative concepts, it might seem like progress in the entertainment industry, but it could also be seen as regression.

It seemed many people were striving to become celebrities rather than actors. Many couldn’t tell good acting from bad, but they could see when a scene felt awkward. While this was indeed an era that valued appearances, there were still many not particularly attractive but skilled actors who received their due recognition. Yet there were also many blessed with naturally beautiful faces who became increasingly ‘sleazy’ [油腻 | you ni | describing someone trying too hard to be cool or sophisticated].

Bai Qianqian watched Su Xin filming from the sidelines while reflecting on herself, wondering how she would interpret and perform the role if she had received it.

Bai Qianqian was formally trained, with rich acting techniques and camera presence, though she shared the same problem of being too green. However, her role this time was small – though just a minor supporting character, she still delivered her lines earnestly with well-executed expressions.

After filming her scene, Bai Qianqian prepared to leave. She just needed to say goodbye to the director, as it wasn’t an important role after all.

Bai Qianqian had already booked her flight to the next location and came to say goodbye to Su Xin before leaving.

“No matter what, I feel like saying thank you a thousand times wouldn’t be enough to express my gratitude. I’m heading to film at another location now. My agent got me another script – they’re really such a wonderful agent. Maybe one day you’ll see me on screen, though I doubt you’ll have time to watch my performances. We can keep in touch by phone though. In this circle, many people appear close but it’s just superficial – their relationships are actually quite poor behind the scenes. But I hope that no matter what storms we weather, we can remain good sisters in the future. Is that okay?”

Bai Qianqian said this long speech – she wasn’t trying to curry favor, but genuinely wanted such a friend.

“Of course that’s fine. Remember, your pride is my pride. We’ll be good friends.”

Su Xin said with certainty.

“Then let’s walk this path together until the end. I hope one day we can collaborate, not in the current format.”

“Okay.”

The drama’s female lead was an eccentric girl, both in character and in real life – equally lively and energetic.

“Xinxin, let’s take a quick selfie, I want to post on Weibo!”

During break time, Qiu Xiaoya, who played the female lead, tugged at Su Xin’s clothes, wanting to take a selfie.

“Sure!”

Su Xin cooperated readily, leaning in for the photo. They used beauty filters and added cute decorations – cat ears and whiskers – as they squeezed together for the shot.

Su Xin watched Qiu Xiaoya upload the photo to Weibo. In the shot, they appeared very close and both smiling – anyone would think they were close friends, when in fact they’d only known each other for about ten days and were still practically strangers.

Qiu Xiaoya wasn’t stupid. She recognized that Su Xin was essentially a stepping stone, though not fully developed yet – still skinny, but bound to grow strong eventually. Just having such powerful backing was enviable enough. Might as well get close while she could – it couldn’t hurt.

Qiu Xiaoya couldn’t really be called a first-tier actress, hovering between second and third tier, never quite breaking through. Getting into the first tier wasn’t easy. She had one memorable representative work and had been nominated for awards, though only as a runner-up, never winning.

This unit’s story wasn’t very long – for a 45-minute TV drama episode format, it wrapped up in about a dozen episodes. Many of these episodes focused on the main characters clearing their names, scenes unrelated to Su Xin. After filming continuously for a month, Su Xin’s scenes were basically complete.

The lady in the script ultimately chooses suicide, not without reason. Previously, she had been a golden canary cradled in palm, from a wealthy merchant family. Though her stepmother showed her no kindness, her father doted on her like a precious jewel.

Unfortunately, her father was deceived, the family fell from grace, and he became gravely ill. Her half-brother inherited what little remained of the family fortune. Her stepmother, who had long despised her, found an excuse to marry her off. Fearing she might marry too well, they wed her to a gambler. Her father was too ill to prevent it, and on her wedding day, died from anger right there at home.

Her early life was carefree, but her later years were filled with torment. Feudal concepts bound her thinking. When falsely accused of killing her husband, she tried to resist, telling others she was innocent. But eventually she became numb. She had fought back countless times before, and sometimes truly contemplated killing her husband, but always relented.

After being cleared of false charges, she felt great joy, followed by deep sorrow.

She was a tragic figure of feudal times – or rather, a tragic woman. At home she obeyed her father, in marriage her husband, and as a widow, her son. But after several years of marriage, she had no children. Everyone blamed her, mocking her as not just a v*xen but a hen who couldn’t lay eggs – no wonder she married such scum.

Her father died on her wedding day from anger. She had no choice, forced into marriage, then suffering daily domestic violence. Her husband nearly sold her to a brothel, but fortunately justice prevailed when the male and female leads rescued her. Yet while they saved her person, they couldn’t save her heart.

When she was falsely accused of killing her husband, or rather when that despicable gambler died, her heart had already died completely. The leads righteously spoke up for her, helping clear her name. When she was brought out from prison, numbly facing trial, and when she was released from the courthouse, her heart had nowhere to belong.

What did freedom matter? Those people wouldn’t leave her alone. Perhaps the men would become even more unrestrained seeing her without a husband. Perhaps the women would curse her more viciously, adding “harbinger of disaster” to their taunts of “v*xen” and “barren hen.”

So on the day the truth came to light, she chose death. Her psychological endurance was never strong, easily broken. Nothing remained worth living for – a tragic ending that made the screenwriter’s intentions clear.

Sometimes society needs more than just happy endings, though everyone likes to see reunions. If ugliness is hidden too well, people might think the world truly peaceful.

After wrapping up her scenes, Su Xin had a farewell dinner with everyone.

“See you next time. Perhaps we’ll have chances to work together again.”

Su Xin smiled – the entertainment circle wasn’t too big or small, who knew?

Su Xin returned to base with her two assistants, as Chu Qiu couldn’t conveniently pick her up at the airport.

As soon as Su Xin opened her door, she received an eager embrace.

Boss, your image is cracking – wake up, you’re supposed to be an ice-cold queen!

“Little hamster, you’re finally back. Not seeing you for a month, I’ve been thinking of you day and night.”

Chu Qiu hadn’t slept well for weeks, just waiting for her little hamster to come home. Now holding her tight, she couldn’t be happier.

“Boss, weren’t you video calling me every day this month?”

Su Xin pushed away from the embrace, put her suitcase in the living room, and poured herself some water.

Yangyang crawled out of Su Xin’s handbag. He had gone along this month – otherwise he might have starved at home, plus being alone was boring. It had already finished watching 《My Mother-in-Law》 to the finale, and with no new good in-law dramas lately, Yangyang had strongly insisted on coming along.

Chu Qiu glanced resentfully at the black rat emerging from Su Xin’s bag – even this rat got to be with her little hamster every day.

Sensing the boss’s gaze, Yangyang darted under the sofa.

Can’t see me, can’t see me.

“Not every day. You were gone for one month and five days, but we only video called for 27 days.”

Sometimes Su Xin was too exhausted from filming, just showering and falling asleep – who’d want to video call when that tired?

“Okay, sorry.”

“No need to apologize. How long until you leave again after this return?”

“About ten days or so.”

“I see… well, ten days it is. I bought you new pajamas again.”

…Oh.

That response could be called quite cold.

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The author has something to say:

Su Xin: Why do you like giving me pajamas so much?

Chu Qiu: The timing of taking them off is quite suitable.

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