Chapter Thirty-One: The Leading Lady of My Film

Chapter Thirty-One: The Leading Lady of My Film

Yang Mingwei looked at the elderly man with a head of silver hair, putting on a flattering smile and asking, “Grandfather, will my soldier be left with any aftereffects?”

“Don’t worry, with your Uncle Wei there. Your soldier’s physique is decent enough; at most, he’ll suffer for a few days,” the silver-haired old man replied with a shake of his head.

“A few more days of suffering? That guy was really ruthless, wasn’t he?” Yang Mingwei frowned.

“The other party was a little heavy-handed, but he still showed some restraint,” Wei Minghua interjected. “You seem to be holding a grudge. Tell me, which sect’s disciple did this? I’ll have a word with them and help you get some payback.”

“Little Wei, don’t spoil him. He comes back for a few days’ leave and always manages to stir up something,” the Yang family patriarch said.

Wei Minghua was his bodyguard, a master of martial arts who had reached the stage of refined inner strength. All of Yang Mingwei’s skills had been taught by him—though, truth be told, he hadn’t learned them particularly well.

“I didn’t cause any trouble,” Yang Mingwei protested. He hesitated, unsure whether to mention his sister’s situation.

“The one who did it has mastered their inner force; their temperament must be steady by now. They wouldn’t injure someone for no reason,” the old man said calmly. He was also a master in this field, though age had caught up with him. Wei Minghua was both his bodyguard and his disciple.

“Dad, did Mingwei get into trouble again?” Yang Mingwei’s mother, Li Rong, walked in just in time to hear this and asked.

“Mom, I didn’t cause any trouble. Even if something happened, it wasn’t my fault this time,” Yang Mingwei said, half amused and half exasperated. It seemed that, in the eyes of his elders, he was always the one stirring up trouble. And truly, he had gotten into his fair share of mischief growing up and even after joining the military.

“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Li Rong said with a smile.

“My sister!” Yang Mingwei blurted automatically, immediately realizing he had made a mistake.

“Xin’er? What did she do?” Li Rong’s eyes filled with concern as she looked at him. The old patriarch and Wei Minghua also turned to him with concern—the family’s precious daughter, indeed.

“It’s nothing, really,” Yang Mingwei quickly backtracked. If his sister found out he’d told the family, he’d be in for it.

“Speak,” the old man commanded, his tone allowing no refusal.

“She’s got a boyfriend! The one who beat up my soldier is her boyfriend,” Yang Mingwei confessed. He felt a touch helpless. He was never afraid of anything, but in front of his grandfather, he became as docile as a kitten.

“Xin’er has a boyfriend?” Li Rong exclaimed in surprise. “How do you know? She’s never mentioned it to us.”

“She was afraid you wouldn’t approve, so she kept it secret. I only found out by chance—saw it on TV,” Yang Mingwei said. “If you paid even a little attention to entertainment news, you’d know. Their relationship has been all over the place.”

“This child, keeping something so important from her family. She’s in her twenties; having a boyfriend is perfectly normal,” Li Rong said with a smile.

“So why did you get into a conflict with Xin’er’s boyfriend?” the old patriarch asked.

“Well, I just thought he wasn’t good enough for her…” Yang Mingwei stammered out the story.

“It’s good to care about your sister, but your approach was wrong. You can’t impose your own judgments on Xin’er,” Li Rong said. “If she’s truly serious about this young man, you’ll only make her hate you as her brother for life.”

“As long as she’s happy, it doesn’t matter if she hates me,” Yang Mingwei replied.

The whole family doted on Yang Xin’er, and Yang Mingwei was no exception.

“How can you know what she wants?” Li Rong shook her head. “But you’re right about one thing. We couldn’t stop her from entering the entertainment industry, but we can’t let her end up with someone from it too.”

“How old is Xin’er’s boyfriend?” Wei Minghua suddenly asked.

“He’s a year or two older than her—about twenty-three, I think,” Yang Mingwei said after some thought. “Six years ago, at seventeen, he was the top scorer in the Bashu provincial college entrance exam but chose to attend Beijing Film Academy instead, which caused quite a stir. Although he graduated from the directing department, his musical talent is well recognized both within and outside the industry. He’s said to be fluent in several foreign languages. While in school, he was known as a gifted young man.”

When Yang Mingwei had gone to confront Zhang Le, he’d learned a bit about him. After saying so many bad things about Zhang Le earlier, he felt some regret, especially after hearing his mother’s words. Now, his words carried a hint of making amends.

“So, he’s talented in both literature and martial arts,” Wei Minghua laughed.

Reaching the level of refined inner strength at twenty-three wasn’t particularly extraordinary. But if one hadn’t reached it by twenty-five, one’s prospects in martial arts were limited. After all, sixteen to twenty-five was the golden age for training.

“Tell Xin’er to bring him home when she has time. I’d like to meet the young man. If he’s decent, let them be,” the old patriarch said suddenly.

He’d spent his life in the military and, now retired, only cared about military matters. The entertainment industry was a mystery to him. He never judged a person by their family or profession—he only looked at the individual.

Zhang Le left the teahouse and took a deep breath, gazing at the sky. The stars were faint tonight, none of them truly bright.

All he wanted at that moment was to find Yang Xin’er and hold her tightly.

When he arrived at her apartment building, he saw her returning from a recording, trailed by a persistent young man.

“Zhang Le!” Yang Xin’er’s face lit up when she saw him. Ignoring the young man behind her, she hurried over.

“Finished for the day?” Zhang Le took her hand, his voice full of concern.

“Yes,” Yang Xin’er smiled and nodded.

“So, you’re Zhang Le—Xin’er’s current boyfriend?” The young man came over, polite and well-mannered. “Hello, I’m Yue Yang. I grew up in the same compound as Xin’er—we’re childhood friends. I just returned from America. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hello, I’m Zhang Le, Xin’er’s boyfriend. Pleased to meet you as well,” Zhang Le replied with a smile.

Though Yue Yang’s words were polite, Zhang Le could hear the underlying message: he was flaunting the fact that he and Xin’er grew up together, childhood sweethearts. The subtext was clear: you may be her boyfriend now, but that’s just for now. I was away in America, but now I’m back. What happens in the future is anyone’s guess.

“I heard from Xin’er that you studied film directing?” Yue Yang said with another smile. When Zhang Le nodded, he continued, “What a coincidence! I studied film directing in America too. When we first started, I promised Xin’er that she’d be the leading lady of all my films.”

“Oh, really? Xin’er is quite selective about her roles these days,” Zhang Le replied with a smile.