"I'll see you afterwards?" Yancheng asked after they exited from the office.
To be honest, An Ning would be lying if she said that she wasn't touched.
She knew her brother's visit wasn't merely for formality. Bringing her to meet Shen Bojun was his way of sending a message—that An Ning was someone treasured and protected within the An family.
It was a declaration, quiet but unmistakable.
The An family stood behind her. That her career would no longer be a game of survival.
It meant she could choose—to refuse a toast she didn't want, to skip a party she didn't care for, to work on her own terms.
A privilege she had never once possessed in her past life.
"I am not five," An Ning laughed. "I can do well enough on my own."
"I'll give you the chauffeur's number later," Yancheng said, his tone even but faintly indulgent.
"You can text him when you are about to be done. Or," he added, "if you want, I'll arrange for someone to bring you to view apartments—see which one you'd like to live in."
Right, apartments.
The An family's business was in real estate, which meant An Ning could quite literally have her pick of the city.
Penthouse, villa, serviced suite—all she had to do was point.
This level of luxury could make anyone want to retire early—
preferably to a life of silk robes and mild moral decay.
She sighed.
Unfortunately, she wasn't built for idleness.
Give her a month or two of peace, she'd probably start memorising scripts out of guilt.
Acting had always been her passion—and the only relationship in her life that had ever given back exactly as much as she put in.
*****
By the time she reached her manager's office,
the chaos of the entertainment world was already condensed neatly into one room.
Scripts, coffee cups, and crisis reports were stacked like the three pillars of modern showbiz.
At the center of it all sat Zhao Liyun—woman, manager, and occasional miracle worker.
"I wouldn't have known you were the princess of the An family when I signed you on two years ago." Zhao Liyun gestured her to sit down.
"I wouldn't have known either," An Ning replied, her tone mild.
"Just proves that I've got good eyes," Zhao Liyun joked.
Zhao Liyun, the top manager at Shen Entertainment. Half of the A-listers in the industry had passed through her hands at one point or another.
These days, she'd taken a step back—less front-line firefighting, more quiet empire-running.
Unlike Jiang Shuyue, who built her reputation through headlines and visibility,
Zhao Liyun built hers through results.
She didn't chase the spotlight; she managed the people who owned it.
And in an industry where fame was fleeting and loyalty was negotiable,
that made her far more dangerous.
Still, it had been a long time since anyone had truly interested her.
Most new artists blurred together—too eager, too polished, too forgettable.
But An Ning was different.
There was something about her—a kind of quiet persistence beneath the grace—that made Zhao Liyun pause.
Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was experience. Either way, it made her feel that old spark again—that rare certainty that she could shape one more star.
In showbiz, everyone had their own definition of beauty.
Some chased fragility.
Some chased fire.
An Ning, however, had both—soft features that lingered in memory, and a presence that refused to fade.
Except, she was far too quiet for someone who looked like that. It had been a constant source of headache for Zhao Liyun—a face built for headlines paired with the temperament of a poet.
But her performance on the dating show had been a pleasant surprise—
measured, witty, and just sharp enough to make people look twice.
She wasn't loud, but she didn't need to be.
She had that rare kind of composure that made noise look cheap.
"Your clips from the show are still circulating online," Zhao Liyun said, scrolling through her tablet. "The audience response has been good—mostly positive."
"There are also more scripts coming in," she added after a beat.
"Supporting roles, cameos, even a few leads. We're moving from forgettable faces to recognisable names now."
It wasn't sudden fame—the original An Ning had spent the past two years quietly building her experience through smaller roles, projects no one paid much attention to but that polished her craft all the same.
It wasn't that Shen Entertainment wasn't able to give her a bigger stage.
She simply believed that a bigger stage came with bigger expectations—
and she wanted to be ready to meet them when the spotlight finally turned her way.
That mindset, as it turned out, aligned perfectly with the current An Ning's own philosophy.
Zhao Liyun smiled faintly. That was what she liked about An Ning—she wasn't in a hurry to climb; she was learning how to stay.
In this industry, fame came fast, but it burned out faster. Half of the so-called rising stars she'd seen had risen straight into scandal.
Which reminded her of Han Yichen.
"Han Yichen's company is going to sue him," she said, setting her tablet down. "His career's as good as over—no one wants a songwriter with a plagiarism scandal in his past."
"Well, this isn't exactly a surprise." An Ning shrugged. "They have invested a fortune trying to rebrand him from songwriter to singer—the marketing, the image overhaul, the whole album rollout. They need to milk him while he still has some value."
Zhao Liyun's expression didn't change, but there was the faintest glint of amusement in her eyes. "Well, he's going to have his hands full anyway—his ex-girlfriend's suing him too."
"Zhang Yazhi, right?" An Ning's lips curved slightly. "The cake smash was perfect. Deserved an award for precision alone. Hopefully, this lawsuit doesn't drag on for too long."
"It won't," Zhao Liyun smiled, the kind of smile that carried both confidence and mischief. "Shen Entertainment is known for efficiency."
An Ning raised a brow, a quiet laughter slipping past her lips.
"Ah, so that's what efficiency means these days."
A thought flickered. Not efficiency—strategy. Shen Entertainment saw an opening and took it.
After all, talent was still talent.
Shen Bojun wasn't the kind of man to let talent go to waste.
"I'd say good luck to Han Yichen," An Ning said with a laugh. "Shen Entertainment's legal department isn't one anyone could afford to mess with."
"By the way," Zhao Liyun said casually, tapping her tablet, "did you know Sun Qiaolian signed with Jiang Shuyue?"
Well, this didn't come as a surprise to An Ning, since Sun Qiaolian had also signed with Jiang Shuyue in the original timeline.
"Tier-A contract?"
"What? No, her performance in the show wasn't stellar. Jiang Shuyue is too shrewd for that." Zhao Liyun said. "Plus, I heard she's not even going to be directly under Jiang Shuyue."
That made a huge difference. In the novel, she was directly under Jiang Shuyue—
the golden protégé, the chosen one.
History, it seemed, had a stubborn way of repeating itself—but this time, cracks were beginning to show.