Chapter 22: Causing Trouble as Soon as She Returns to the Film Crew
“Send a girl to Bai Lu’s room and confiscate all her snacks. If anyone dares to give Bai Lu any snacks, they’re out!”
With that, Director Zhang turned to Bai Lu, nodding approvingly. “Good. I see you’ve gained a few pounds during your hospital stay—your health should be fine now. We’ll start filming tonight. Any problem with that?”
Yu Fuqing frowned. “Director Zhang, Little Lu just got out of the hospital. Shouldn’t she rest a bit longer—”
“I’m fine,” Bai Lu cut in before he could finish. “I went over the script while I was in the hospital. I’m ready to start filming anytime.”
Director Zhang gave a faint, cold laugh. “Alright, let the executive director inform everyone. All departments, get ready—we’re shooting a big night scene.”
Whether she actually reviewed the script in the hospital would become clear during tonight’s shoot.
Yu Fuqing pulled Bai Lu aside and asked in a low voice, “Little Lu, can your body handle it?”
She shot back, “Don’t you trust me?”
He shook his head, but before he could say anything, Bai Lu had already dashed off. “I’ve got things to do. Find something to entertain yourself for a while. And don’t throw your weight around as an investor—don’t cause trouble for the crew! If you have nowhere to go, just wait in the van. Don’t make the staff fuss over you!”
Yu Fuqing could only smile helplessly.
The girl really had grown up—she even knew to remind him now. She acted like a little adult, which was oddly endearing.
That’s how people are—when they like you, even your temper is seen as genuine and charming. When they don’t, your tenderness and care are dismissed as pandering.
Bai Lu went around to every department, greeting and apologizing sincerely to all the crew members and actors. She even sought out the extras.
“I’m terribly sorry for holding up filming because of me, for adding to everyone’s workload, and for worrying you all. I truly apologize!”
The response was unanimous.
“This isn’t your fault, Little Lu, don’t blame yourself. How could anyone be angry at you? We only wish you well. As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”
When she reached the break room for the professional athletes and technical coaches, Bai Lu was immediately stopped.
The drama told the story of young athletes joining the national ski team, enduring grueling training, growing step by step, and ultimately winning glory for the country by claiming gold at the Winter Olympics.
No romance—only friendship, hard work, perseverance, and relentless striving.
It was an uplifting, positive drama that had received strong backing from the Sports Bureau, the ski team, and the national media authority.
In her previous life, Bai Lu had won her first Best Actress award for this very drama, becoming the winner of the 27th Magnolia Award for Best Leading Actress.
It laid the foundation for her to win Best Actress in film the following year.
Besides the actors, there were real members of the national ski team involved. The technical coach was even the inspiration for Bai Lu’s character.
“Little Lu, don’t go just yet,” the coach said, signaling for a teammate to close the door.
The coach pressed her down onto a bench, and the rest of the group surrounded her.
Bai Lu grew anxious. “Coach Liu, did I do something wrong? Please tell me directly, I’ll make sure to train harder.”
Coach Liu lowered her voice. “Little Lu, I have a different take on your injury.”
Bai Lu lowered her eyes and murmured assent.
“I’ve talked to the team, and our opinions are quite divided. I’m only speaking for myself. I watched the footage from that day over and over. If you’d simply lost your balance, the way you fell, the direction, the way your body hit the ground—all of it—wasn’t the same as what happened to Shen Xinluo that day.”
Bai Lu blinked quickly.
Professional athletes aren’t from the entertainment world—they speak their minds.
“I reported this to the police. They’ve looked into it thoroughly, consulted many athletes. But this kind of thing is hard to define. You understand that, right?”
Bai Lu nodded. “Yes.”
Coach Liu continued, “Maybe I’m just biased against Shen Xinluo, maybe I’ve misunderstood her. But Little Lu, I still have to warn you—be careful around your sister. She really isn’t a good person.”
For professional athletes, skill and hard work matter most. The ones they despise most are people like Shen Xinluo—lacking talent, full of jealousy, always scheming behind people’s backs.
Bai Lu stood and bowed deeply to Coach Liu and the others. “Thank you, all of you. Truly, thank you so much!”
They owed her nothing, and yet they risked offending others to warn her—she was deeply grateful.
Coach Liu was blunt as ever. “To be honest, I used to have a problem with you too. If I hadn’t seen you go around and apologize so sincerely to everyone—not even skipping the extras—completely changing your old attitude, I wouldn’t have warned you.”
Bai Lu was momentarily speechless.
After expressing her thanks again and again, Bai Lu finally left.
She gazed at the endless snow, her eyes growing cold again.
It wasn’t just Coach Liu—many staff and cast members had developed a negative opinion of her.
Her reputation in the industry had started to unravel with this very drama.
Because she had thrown herself entirely into her role, barely interacting with the crew, she had left Shen Xinluo ample opportunity to sow discord.
In her previous life, taking Shen Xinluo’s advice and eager to make up for lost time, she had hidden away in her dressing room to review the script, greeting only Director Zhang.
This only solidified people’s impression of her as aloof, arrogant, and playing favorites.
Shen Xinluo not only badmouthed her and stirred up conflict, but also played both sides, lying to both Bai Lu and the crew.
After the drama wrapped, Director Zhang’s opinion of her was so poor that he publicly declared, “I value talent, but I care even more about character. I will never work again with actors who have talent but lack integrity.”
Well, at least that was a backhanded compliment to her acting skills…
“Little Lu!”
Shen Xinluo came running from afar.
A glint flashed in Bai Lu’s eyes.
She was in no mood for this—Shen Xinluo was practically begging for trouble.
“Little Lu, I finally found you,” Shen Xinluo said, panting. “Where did you go? Brother Fuqing couldn’t find you, he’s about to leave. Hurry, you can still go say goodbye.”
Bai Lu raised an eyebrow.
Was the sun rising in the west today?
Something was off—when things are abnormal, there’s always a reason.
When in doubt, just do the opposite of whatever Shen Xinluo wants.
Bai Lu shook her head. “Forget it. Yu Fuqing must be busy, I don’t want to take up his time.”
“What are you talking about? How would saying goodbye to Brother Fuqing be taking up his time?” Shen Xinluo grabbed her wrist. “Hurry, he’s in the RV.”
Bai Lu yanked her hand free and narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Shen Xinluo, it’s just us here—you can drop the act. Would you really come to remind me if Yu Fuqing was leaving? You’d rather I stayed away forever and let you have him all to yourself.”
Though Shen Xinluo hid it well, Bai Lu was no longer the same person she used to be.
Now, she was Niu Hulu Bai Lu.
So that fleeting panic on Shen Xinluo’s face at being exposed did not escape Bai Lu’s notice.
Causing trouble the moment she returned to the set—truly, Shen Xinluo never disappointed.