That year when the film “Late Spring” returned to Beijing for shooting, the spring and summer weather in Beijing was beautiful.

The sun blazed brilliantly, the sky stretched high and distant, and there were twice as many blue-sky days as usual.

At the Beijing launch press conference, almost all of the most important entertainment media in the country wanted to schedule exclusive interviews with Huang Xi Tang. Within half a year, her fee per film had tripled.

Being the female lead in Tang Yasong’s new film brought her almost immeasurable fame and practical benefits.

Her status in the industry rose rapidly with the rising tide.

Xi Tang didn’t pay much attention to these things. In the film, Ding Fangfei hurriedly left work, dragging her daughter along the path from kindergarten to home in a constant rush. Her constantly quarreling husband was nowhere to be found, her mother was hospitalized due to illness, and Fangfei was sitting by the hospital bed with her laptop, modifying effect drawings while caring for her sick mother, experiencing the overwhelming mid-life crisis.

There was just one small matter—she heard the makeup room girls chatting about how Qin Guohuai’s wife often visited the set after the crew returned to Beijing for filming, and what a loving couple they were.

Huang Xi Tang had never met Qin Guohuai’s wife because whenever she finished filming, even if she only had half a day off, she would fly to Shanghai.

When she initially returned from Qinghai, she bought a ticket and flew directly back to Shanghai. When company colleagues picked her up at the airport, the car went straight to the hospital. Only then did Xi Tang learn that her mother had been hospitalized for over a week. To avoid affecting her filming, Ni Kailun hadn’t told her.

Anxious and afraid, she stayed by her mother’s side in the hospital for three days without leaving, before having to return to Beijing for filming.

Tang Yasong’s productions had a work intensity that ordinary film crews couldn’t compare with. Sometimes A-Kuan didn’t even accompany her anymore—it was too exhausting. Xi Tang would board planes by herself, sometimes accompanied by Ma Jihong.

Xi Tang had a new agent temporarily managing her. When in Shanghai, she sometimes returned to the company and inadvertently overheard Ni Kailun secretly instructing her assistant and makeup artist: “Don’t let her go anywhere except the film set and hotel.” Her tone was inexplicably tense.

Xi Tang returned to Shanghai every three or four days, and a faint weariness appeared between her brows and eyes. She had completely immersed herself in the role, to the point where she didn’t even need to act. Once she walked onto the set, she became Ding Fangfei, expressing that worry, tension, and anxiety to perfection.

The overlap between acting and reality was so intense that even Xi Tang herself felt frightened.

Tang Yasong hadn’t expected her to perform so well. Although she had formal training, she still lacked extensive big-screen experience. But watching from behind the monitor throughout, though not as flawless as Qin Guohuai, her emotional tension was extraordinarily authentic. This short, high-pressure urban life segment, contrasted with the later relaxed, warm, restorative marital relationship in Qinghai, created an especially vivid contrast.

Tang Yasong knew this film was going to succeed.

When Xi Tang was in Beijing, A-Kuan followed her every step.

During the month of filming in Beijing, apart from the hotel and set, she hadn’t even gone out to the streets. After enduring a difficult month, this segment of filming was about to finish.

On Saturday evening, agent Ma Jihong came to pick her up for work.

It was a sponsored event for a brand she endorsed. Xi Tang had started endorsing this milk beverage brand last year, portraying a fresh and sweet urban girl image. With good reputation and sales, the manufacturer had renewed the contract for another year.

The event was held in a ground floor hall of a shopping mall. Xi Tang wore a green dress, introducing and promoting the product alongside the host. After that, they played games and gave out prizes, making the scene extremely lively. When the event ended after ten o’clock, as usual, there was a late-night cooperation banquet with the brand executives and some officials. Xi Tang applied glamorous makeup in the car, and Ma Jihong accompanied her into a small banquet hall in the hotel. Xi Tang held a wine glass throughout, toasting, making small talk, with one man after another reaching out to touch her arm, and back, pinching her thigh through her formal dress. She always smiled without leaving a trace of discomfort, dodging skillfully, occasionally accompanied by a coquettish complaint, but internally remaining extremely vigilant, careful not to drink too much.

Around one o’clock, Sister Hong picked her up to leave. Walking to the elevator door, Hong suddenly said, “Oh, I forgot, Kuan, go back and get my bag for me.”

A-Kuan responded and left.

Xi Tang followed Ma Jihong into the elevator. After standing all evening, she was exhausted and leaned against the elevator wall without regard for her image. Ma Jihong pressed the close button, then pressed another key, and the elevator started going up.

Xi Tang was stunned for several seconds, came to her senses, stood straight, and called out, “Sister Hong?”

Ma Jihong smiled at her, completely composed: “It’s nothing, I just have something to attend to upstairs.”

Xi Tang’s body was tired, and she was a bit dazed. The questions that rose in her mind didn’t have time to be asked before the elevator went “ding” and arrived.

The door opened immediately, and people were standing at the door—tall, strong, unfamiliar men in black clothes.

Xi Tang’s heart jumped violently in shock, and all expression vanished from her face.

A man said to her, “Good evening, Miss Huang, this way please.”

Xi Tang looked out. The entire floor of executive suites was empty and silent. There was no one in the corridor, the security cameras were at the far end, three men blocked the door, and the elevator was held by Ma Jihong.

There was no escape.

For a moment she was stunned, as memories of that dark fog instantly engulfed her—an identical scene. There wasn’t even time for fear, but in this moment she was a thousand times more clear-headed than years ago. Huang Xi Tang knew what awaited her, and her entire heart continued to sink in despair.

Her fingernails dug deeply into her arm, suppressing her trembling as she attempted to save herself: “Sister Hong, we’ve been colleagues at the same company for so many years, without my consent, you shouldn’t do this kind of thing.”

Ma Jihong remained unmoved, her smile unchanging, with slight cordiality: “Xi Tang, Mr. Hu has several major production films and is looking for a female lead. You go in and have a chat. In the future, whatever film you want to make, it’s just a matter of one word.”

Xi Tang knew in her heart that for her to risk doing such a thing, she must have received considerable benefits. At this point, she would certainly not let Xi Tang go.

Two men stepped into the elevator, reached out, and grabbed her arms. Xi Tang was escorted forward.

The suite door opened from inside, and Huang Xi Tang saw a nightmarish face.

Sun Kehu’s face was smiling, but for some reason, that smile looked especially terrifying: “Well, well, big star, long time no see.”

He wore a black polo shirt with buttons open, and a horrific scar was visible on his neck.

Huang Xi Tang’s legs weakened as if she’d been electrocuted. She moved her feet, but in the next second, she was firmly held down.

She began to shake violently.

Sun Kehu gave her a bow: “You’ve honored us with your presence today.”

Assistant A-Kuan waited at the hotel parking garage elevator, only to see agent Ma Jihong come down alone.

A-Kuan looked behind her: “Where’s my artist?”

Ma Jihong instructed: “The driver will take you back first.”

A-Kuan was puzzled: “Isn’t the work finished? She still needs to return to Shanghai tonight. I need to go back with her.”

Ma Jihong smiled: “I’ll wait here and take her back to the hotel in a while.”

“She’s still upstairs?”

“Yes.”

A-Kuan’s small eyes widened, looking at her smile, looking once, then looking again: “Sister Hong, then I’ll head back first.”

Before Ma Jihong could nod, A-Kuan turned and ran, running out of the garage door. There were no lights outside the garage. Her phone fell with a clatter as soon as she took it out. She quickly picked it up, didn’t even look at it, and hurriedly called Shanghai.

Ni Kailun listened to her call for less than a minute before hanging up, immediately calling the agent who was with her.

Ma Jihong wasn’t afraid of her and answered the phone fearlessly: “Oh, Kailun, you’re still not sleeping this late?”

In a few words, Ma Jihong admitted everything. Ni Kailun was her proper agent, and this was something that couldn’t be hidden.

Ni Kailun completely lost her temper, shouting: “Ma Jihong, go upstairs and bring her down immediately!”

Ma Jihong knew she was thousands of miles away and couldn’t do anything about it for the time being. She sat in her car, opened her handbag, and then calmly said: “Why so urgent to have me bring her down? Do you know who has taken an interest in your artist?”

Ma Jihong smiled, deliberately mysterious as she whispered a name.

Ni Kailun was momentarily stunned. This name represented a powerful background in both political and business circles, firmly occupying half of mainland China’s entertainment industry, controlling two-thirds of the country’s theater distribution rights and film investment rights. Unlike traditional entertainment tycoons who slept with both male and female stars under their companies, this person was reportedly extremely virtuous, having been with his wife since they were young, with an extremely loving marriage. In Beijing circles, Ni Kailun had heard how many agents had tried their hardest to introduce female stars to him, with none succeeding.

On the other end of the phone, Ma Jihong spoke with undisguised pride, as if seeking credit: “I’m telling you, Kailun, even I envy you. Since Xi Tang acted in Director Tang’s film, her temperament and figure have truly changed greatly. She’s captivating. Kailun, you’re so lucky. I’ve managed so many artists, and not one has ever been able to climb such a big tree!”

Ni Kailun knew the situation was thorny, which made her even more upset: “No matter who it is, did Huang Xi Tang agree? You can’t push someone into a fire pit!”

Ma Jihong shook her head as if disapproving: “Kailun, I understand you care for her, but walking around in this Beijing city, so cold and noble, coming back and forth for nearly half a year, with such fame, yet no one can get a date with her—isn’t that putting me in a difficult position? She’s not some pure and innocent person anymore. You’re not new to this industry. Among female stars in the circle, who hasn’t experienced these small matters?”

Ni Kailun tilted her head back, her eyes stinging, knowing everything was over.

At that moment, her mind suddenly recalled Huang Xi Tang’s mother in the hospital, bored in the ward, knitting a small red vest for her soon-to-be-born child.

On the other end, Ma Jihong was still talking: “Let me be honest with you, Kailun. This decision wasn’t made by me alone. If this works out, she’ll have a golden path to walk. Afterward, I’ll take good care of her. I’ve already booked the doctor, absolutely confidential and safe. Persuade her to think positively about this—what are you doing?!”

As Ma Jihong turned her face, a chubby hand slapped her hard on the head.

Ma Jihong screamed: “How dare you rebel!”

A-Kuan was even angrier, shouting: “Where is she? Stop harming people!”

Ma Jihong’s face changed color: “Where did this ill-mannered fat girl come from? I’ll fire you tomorrow! Stop it!”

A-Kuan’s eyes reddened as she desperately reached through the car window, tearing at her hair, pulling her out: “Come out! Come out and call her down!”