They were angry, displeased, and frustrated.
But they still needed Zoe as the leading actress.
Why?
Because Zoe was a rising star. Her name on the project proposal could attract significant investments.
With Zoe onboard, this otherwise mediocre romantic comedy could receive an A-grade rating and promotion resources from the platform.
With Zoe in the cast, the project wouldn't just be a roster of nobodies. When the show eventually aired, her name alone would draw clicks from curious audiences.
Still, Zoe's impulsiveness would come with consequences.
Perhaps one day, when her fleeting fame faded, and no sponsors sought her out, when she could no longer generate profits for the company, she would find herself sidelined—learning a painful lesson in the process.
Lan approached her after the incident. To Zoe's surprise, she didn't lash out. Instead, she sighed softly. "You were too impulsive today."
Zoe closed her eyes as the makeup artist worked on her lashes. She said nothing, pretending not to hear.
Lan continued, "Do you think you can really go head-to-head with the company? You've made this situation so ugly. How do you expect them to give you any more opportunities?"
Zoe retorted without missing a beat, "When has the company ever pushed resources my way? If they did, I must've missed it."
Lan hesitated, her words faltering for a moment. "Before you were famous, who do you think got you on those variety shows and into those roles?"
"Wasn't it you?" Zoe opened her eyes, meeting Lan's gaze through the mirror. "The company never had a clear plan for me. They weren't providing me with opportunities—you were. You showed up on your own, drank yourself sick at meetings, begged for audition chances on my behalf. I didn't have a driver or assistant, so you became both. You cheered me on and supported me. So why, now that things are finally looking up for us, are you no longer on my side?"
Lan opened her mouth to reply but hesitated, as if the words caught in her throat.
"Lan, I thought we were in this together." Zoe closed her eyes again.
Lan didn't answer.
When Zoe opened her eyes again, she caught a glimpse of Lan in the mirror, dabbing at the corner of her right eye.
The sight softened the tough shell Zoe had forced herself to wear. Had her words been too harsh?
But as Lan's hand lowered, she revealed an expression of disbelief—followed by a sarcastic, mocking smile.
Zoe froze.
Lan's laughter was biting, filled with ridicule. "I thought you were different from the others, but it turns out you're just as naive and foolish as they are."
The taunt cut deeper than any shouting match ever could.
Zoe could handle scolding or yelling, but being dismissed with a single phrase—"naive and foolish"—filled her with a sharp sense of humiliation.
Lan pressed on, her tone sharp and merciless. "Do you think I begged and groveled for you out of some sense of altruism? I wanted you to succeed because your success benefits me. But you're stupid enough to think you can go against the company and still come out unscathed. Do you know how many artists who've clashed with their companies ever end up with a good ending? Or how many stay relevant forever?"
Lan's voice dripped with disdain. "Yes, Questioning the Heart is a better project. Obviously. But Eighth Crush is what the company signed you on for. You could've outright refused it and gone with Questioning the Heart. Fine. But now? You accepted Eighth Crush, then threw a tantrum and offended everyone involved. What were you thinking? Do you think anyone cares about your attitude? They don't. And now, you've managed to back yourself into a corner. Well done."
Zoe felt the weight of Lan's words sink in, dragging her heart down with them.
Lan was right.
If she wasn't willing to take Eighth Crush, she shouldn't have signed on. If she had to accept it, she should've swallowed her pride and played along. The worst thing she could've done was what she had done—accept the project but still make a scene, ensuring everyone knew she was unhappy.
Her attitude had been irrelevant from the start. No one on this project cared about how she felt.
From the very beginning, she had taken the wrong steps, said the wrong things, and now found herself stuck—neither able to move forward nor retreat.