Chapter 65: The Three Beauties of Xian Jian: Zhang Yang is Poisonous

200,000 yuan!

In the future, this amount wouldn’t even cover one-tenth of her daily earnings.

But now it was 2011. The internet giants hadn’t yet entered the market on a large scale, the era of traffic had not arrived, and celebrity salaries had not yet taken flight.

Yang Mi had only recently become a first-tier celebrity. Her reported pay per episode was between 300,000 to 400,000 yuan, but in reality, this figure would be discounted significantly. After paying taxes, splitting profits with her agent, and other expenses, her actual income wasn’t particularly high. Moreover, although she was busy with work now, she wasn’t as frenzied as during the period of performance guarantees.

On top of that, she had to pay her staff salaries, invest large sums in clothing and skincare, and her endorsement fees were just starting to rise. She wouldn’t have much cash on hand.

Under these circumstances, offering him “200,000” was undoubtedly a gesture of great sincerity, not to mention it also left her indebted to him.

Of course, if one considers the successful positive PR and image marketing campaign it would entail, this 200,000 yuan was indeed a wise investment, especially when it avoided a potential scandal.

“Perfect. Any extra funds I receive from now on can all be used for investments,” Zhang Yang had already planned how to use this money.

For instance, he would soon be seeking investments for Taxi to Thailand.

“Money received,” Zhang Yang texted Yang Mi.

He got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Before he even started brushing his teeth, he received a reply.

“This bastard is doing it on purpose,” thought Yang Mi as a smile blossomed on her face, accompanied by a gentle scold.

Recalling how last night Tang Yan had called her to complain about Zhang Yang, she suddenly felt somewhat “regretful” for defending him.

She sent a message to Tang Yan through QQ: “Zhang Yang isn’t actually a good person.”

Yang Mi was left speechless.

You’re truly the epitome of a foolish sweetie, her close friend chimed in, joining the critique of Zhang Yang.

Yet even this couldn’t quell Tang Yan’s simmering anger.

So when May 15th rolled around and Sword and Dragon finally began filming, she continued to greet Zhang Yang with an icy stare.

“Tangtang, what did A-Yang do to upset you?” Liu Shishi, ever curious, asked as they sat in the dressing room.

Tang Yan pursed her lips. “He used me and then tossed me aside. How can I possibly be anything but irate?”

Liu Shishi was at a loss. What’s with these cryptic comments?

“What do you mean ‘used you and tossed you aside’?” Nazha couldn’t help but interject, her ears perked up in intrigue.

Tang Yan shot her a glance but, deciding against concealment, recounted the incident patiently. “He asked for Mickey’s contact info, struck a deal with her that left her indebted, and then mocked me—the one who’d brought them together—as a foolish sweetie with subpar acting skills. Tell me, shouldn’t I be furious?”

As Tang Yan spoke, her irritation began to flare once more.

A look of realization dawned on Nazha’s face. “So that’s why he went to Macang on the ninth—to discuss business with Yang Mi herself.”

Liu Shishi’s expression was one of surprise. “Mickey’s ‘clarification’ videos were actually courtesy of A-Yang? Where did he unearth those?”

Tang Yan blinked in exasperation. Are they missing the point entirely?

The key issue here is Zhang Yang’s blatant ingratitude!

Meanwhile, across the hall in the dressing room for male actors:

As Lin Gengxin allowed the makeup artist to work on him, he casually chatted with Zhang Yang. “Hey, a-Yang, Tang Yan seems to have issues with you, huh?”

Both students from the Shanghai Theatre Academy, they’d both fallen for Cai Yining’s tricks. Their relationship had always been cordial.

Jiang Jinfu’s eyes flickered as he began eavesdropping on their conversation.

“It’s nothing serious,” Zhang Yang said, his eyes closed. “I just told her a few truths she didn’t want to hear.”

“What truths?”

“I told her her acting skills are lacking.”

Lin Gengxin’s head snapped towards him. “You dared to say that?”

“It’s not like I intentionally pointed out her faults.” Zhang Yang remained unfazed. “She helped me with something small, and I mentioned I could give her acting tips once we started filming. She’s the one who got all worked up over it.”

Lin Gengxin fell silent. Is he out of his mind?

“Women hold grudges like nobody else,” Lin Gengxin said with a hint of schadenfreude. “Considering Tang Yan’s relationship with Po Shi, you’re in for a tough time in the cast.”

“I disagree with your assessment,” Zhang Yang opened his eyes. “I think at most, in seven days, she’ll come to me herself asking for acting lessons.”

Lin Gengxin and Jiang Jinfu both wore expressions that said, “You’re still trying to bluff us?”

The corners of Zhang Yang’s mouth quirked up. “Lin Gu, want to bet?”

“Bet, I will,” Lin Gengxin responded, naturally unwilling to pass up a sure win. “If everything goes as you say, I’ll treat you to breakfast for the duration of the filming. And vice versa.”

“Count me in too, Senior Brothers,” Jiang Jinfu chimed in. “I’ll stand with Senior Brother Lin on this bet. The stakes will be midnight snacks during filming—if you want them, Senior Brother Yang, I’ll foot the bill, and vice versa.”

“No problem, a gentleman’s word is bond.” Zhang Yang pulled out his phone. “Let’s use Tencent to send a text version of the bet.”

Lin Gengxin and Jiang Jinfu had no objections, and were even more excited than Zhang Yang.

“Heh, these foolish Lin Gou and Jinfu,” Zhang Yang scoffed inwardly. They have no clue about the power of a cheat.

After finishing his makeup, Zhang Yang emerged from the dressing room in golden armor and wearing a golden mask.

Standing beside him, Lin Gengxin and Jiang Jinfu seemed to pale in comparison—looking like a town bumpkin next to an ancient noble. It’s not clear if this was due to their makeup or simply couldn’t compete with Zhang Yang’s presence.

Cai Yining’s gaze swept over the three men, various thoughts flashing through her mind.

At that moment, the three female leads also completed their transformations and emerged from the dressing room.

In contrast to the noticeable differences among the male leads, each of the three women had their unique charm.

Tang Yan, playing Tuoba Yuer, had her long hair fashioned into an elegant high ponytail. Dressed in a heroine’s outfit predominantly red, she exuded a captivating allure—vibrant, youthful, and full of whimsical spirit.

Liu Shishi, portraying Dugu Ningke, wore a rich purple princess ensemble adorned with intricate and valuable gold accessories. Her appearance was cool and lofty, evoking an air of refined nobility that stood out from the ordinary.

Nazha, as Xiaoxue, donned a flowing white gown. Her complexion was as fair as cream, eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky, and raven-black hair cascaded down to her shoulders. She looked incredibly beautiful, like a luminous pearl or precious jade, too radiant to look at directly.

All three women were exceptionally suited for period dramas, causing many onlookers’ eyes to sparkle with delight.

Meanwhile, they were examining Zhang Yang, astounded by his golden armor getup.

Zhang Yang raised the golden mask he held and suddenly spoke, his voice cold: “What are you all gawking at? Hurry up and get to work!”

Everyone fell silent, momentarily stunned.