Chapter Six: Simply Sweet

When a girl feels both curious and admiring toward you, and is willing to spend every day by your side, then becoming a couple feels almost inevitable.

Chen Ling understood well that, for a girl, simply not rejecting a boy is already a sign of interest. During these days of recording songs, Jing Tian’s curiosity and affection for Chen Ling only grew stronger. Sensing this, Chen Ling acted decisively. One evening, during a walk, he took Jing Tian’s hand when she least expected it; she made a token effort to pull away but ultimately accepted it. Thus, their relationship took a significant step forward.

Jing Tian’s hand was small, smooth, and lively—always moving. Another evening after dinner, the two wandered through the campus of the Film Academy. By late October, the evenings in the capital were already cool, and both wore black trench coats that looked like matching outfits for couples. With their impeccable looks and figures, strolling hand-in-hand through the campus, they exuded an atmosphere straight out of a Korean drama.

“Is it true that you said you’ve written new songs?” Jing Tian, though not short herself, was still dwarfed by Chen Ling’s height of one meter eighty-five. She always had to tilt her head slightly to look at him; her famous large, bright eyes and ethereal beauty made every glance overwhelming for Chen Ling.

“Yes, I’ve got some inspiration, but I need to refine them a bit.”

After the post-production music for “Keywords” was finished, Chen Ling listened and found no issues. He told Fan Zheng to upload it to Kugou Music, just as he had done with “Just Once.” Fan Zheng also secured a few website recommendations, spending a little money—Chen Ling covering the cost. Fortunately, the expenses weren’t much; both songs were high-quality and, with some promotion, quickly gained popularity. However, since neither Chen Ling nor Fan Zheng were well-known, it would take some time for the songs to truly go viral.

As for the next songs for the album, Chen Ling hadn’t decided which ones to borrow yet. After all, being a singer wasn’t part of his life plan in this world. One’s energy is limited; his main goal was to be a director, an actor, a superstar—basking in the spotlight, and then to pursue romances with those unreachable stars from his previous life. Simple, ordinary ambitions.

For now, the main purpose of these two songs was to win over Jing Tian.

“I really envy you, being able to write and sing songs. I originally wanted to be a singer, but without the talent, I ended up acting instead,” Jing Tian admitted, her tone candid with admiration.

“God gave you exceptional beauty and intelligence—something had to give,” Chen Ling reassured her. “It’s like when you’re standing upstairs looking at the scenery, and people downstairs are looking at you.”

“Hmm, that makes sense. I guess I was overthinking it,” Jing Tian agreed readily.

Chen Ling appreciated this as another of her virtues—no airs, never aloof, always considerate. It made him all the more determined to win her heart. This was Jing Tian, after all; if not now, then when?

“But I don’t seem to be any good at acting either; none of my works have made much impact in the market,” Jing Tian said, looking up at Chen Ling, her mood a bit low.

Feeling the girl’s spirits falter, Chen Ling squeezed her small hand and thought, “This is just the beginning. Ahead of you are projects like ‘Warring States,’ ‘Police Story 2013,’ ‘The Man from Macau,’ and ‘The Great Wall.’ You’ll soon witness how the new generation of internet users can tear people apart.”

That’s not even considering the fact that, for now, few company artists dare to criticize her, and she herself has no scandals. But he couldn’t say that aloud.

“Actually, you might want to consider taking some television roles. A movie lasts only one or two hours—it’s hard for audiences to get familiar with you, and their expectations for movie acting are very high. You’re still so young; it’s really unfair to you,” Chen Ling said gently.

“Television is different from film. A series with dozens of episodes, airing two a day, can play for weeks. It’s much easier to build audience rapport and national recognition. If you get the chance, you should also join some variety shows.”

He glanced at the girl whose hand he was holding and saw she was listening intently.

He continued, “In our industry, audience rapport is built step by step through works, but it can be ruined by a single project or even a single sentence. In my view, films enhance your status, but television is your foundation.”

Chen Ling genuinely wanted to advise Jing Tian, drawing on his experience. In his previous life, the darling of the industry had worked with the biggest stars in the country, and when that didn’t bring fame, she moved to Hollywood, creating a universe of her own. Yet the buzz from all those resources was nothing compared to one television drama, “Si Teng.”

Another clear example was Liu Yifei, who rose to stardom through television. Every series she starred in was a hit. After achieving success in TV, she, like many others, tried to break into film, but every movie flopped. If not for the audience rapport built early on through television, she would have faded away. It wasn’t until years later, thanks to another TV drama, that she reclaimed her peak—having wasted many years.

Even now, and for years to come, film stars still rank above television stars; this is an unspoken rule in show business. The rule was broken only because hot dramas started making more money—even more than big-budget films. That’s when film stars started taking TV roles. A clear example is Fan Bingbing; her series “The Empress of China” pushed her fame to new heights.

In Chen Ling’s eyes, with Jing Tian’s pure, simple charm, if she found the right TV drama and variety show, and built her image with some PR, she could easily become popular. She was backed by powerful capital, protected from scandals, and poised to break out. Once she built enough buzz, matching it with film resources would propel her to the top.

But her current path was, in Chen Ling’s view, completely backwards. Having another chance at life, he didn’t want such a pure girl to waste time on the wrong path.

“I’ve thought about what you said, but Uncle Lu Zheng’s plan for me is set. I can’t really oppose it,” Jing Tian replied, clearly thoughtful.

She was shy and innocent, but not foolish—her intelligence was apparent.

Chen Ling knew who this Lu Zheng was.

A major shareholder of Wanda, the chairman of Starlight Splendor, and this year’s founder of Wanda Pictures. From the end of this year through early next year, after stabilizing Wanda Pictures, Lu Zheng would launch several major projects to promote the industry sweetheart—projects like “Warring States” and “Police Story 2013” were all his initiatives.

He was a figure with significant influence in both entertainment and capital circles.

In Chen Ling’s previous life, many rumors and scandals about Jing Tian involved Lu Zheng, though their relationship was nothing like the gossip suggested.

From Jing Tian, Chen Ling learned that Lu Zheng’s family and hers were old friends. He’d watched her grow up, and his founding of Starlight Splendor and position at Wanda Pictures were, at heart, due to her parents’ request—to look after Jing Tian and pave her way in the entertainment world.

Some of this came from Jing Tian herself, some from Chen Ling’s own conjecture, combining what he knew from later rumors.

“Your Uncle Lu will probably have other plans for you down the line. If it comes to it, I’ll make a TV drama and invite you as the lead actress,” Chen Ling said, dropping the topic since he was still too weak to influence her family.

Unknowingly, the two wandered along the wooded path until they reached Chen Ling’s car.

“Tian Tian, could you open my trunk and grab something for me? I need to make a call,” Chen Ling said, handing her the keys and pulling out his phone.

“Okay,” Jing Tian replied, taking the keys and unlocking the trunk without a second thought.

The trunk opened, and a warm orange glow lit up the wooded path on campus. The light fell on Jing Tian’s exquisite face, and when she saw what was inside, she covered her face in shock, utterly incredulous.

The car’s trunk was arranged by Chen Ling in advance: mood lights entwined with balloons, a few plush toys, and several strings of lights hanging from the raised trunk lid. In the center, a large bouquet of red roses.

Yes, it was the now-viral “trunk surprise confession set” seen on TikTok.

As the trunk opened, the music Chen Ling had set up began to play—the song he had sung in the classroom a few days before, “Just Once.”

Seeing Jing Tian, overwhelmed and covering her mouth in delight, Chen Ling thought to himself how this trick, which would become clichéd in a decade, was still effective now.

He walked over, picked up the bouquet, and presented it to the excited Jing Tian.

“Tian Tian, there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you. I like you. Be my girlfriend. I truly like you, and if I miss this chance, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Having lived two lives, Chen Ling knew sincerity was the most powerful way to move someone. Of course, sincerity alone isn’t enough; it must be paired with other things to really work.

They both had feelings for each other, and only a thin veil remained between them. Tonight, Chen Ling decided to pierce it.

“Be my girlfriend,” he said, stepping closer as Jing Tian stood, overcome with emotion.

“Mm,” Jing Tian nodded, already deeply moved.

Poor Tian Tian, protected by her family all her life, had never experienced anything like this; her heart surrendered long ago. This was no movie set, where everything was scripted—this was a real, sudden surprise happening to her, a moment straight from a drama brought to life.

Seeing her nod, Chen Ling was ecstatic. He pulled Jing Tian into his arms.

Feeling each other’s warmth, Chen Ling couldn’t help but lift her chin.

He kissed her. Falling in love means constantly pushing boundaries.

Chen Ling, a seasoned hand, knew this well. Jing Tian only made a token resistance, then let him have his way.

Well, how to put it? She felt very inexperienced.

In his previous life, Chen Ling had seen a photo at a Bazaar gala of Jing Tian and Liu Yifei together. He and his friend had marveled that Jing Tian’s beauty rivaled Liu Yifei’s.

At the time, his friend had joked, “I wonder just how sweet Jing Tian really is.”

Now, Chen Ling could answer his friend’s question: she was truly, unbelievably sweet.