Chapter 83: Filming Wraps, the Interview Show

It had to be said, the feeling of having a cheat was truly unparalleled.

Bai Ling already felt herself falling in love with the sensation of racing forward at full speed.

Although the constant retakes and endless rehearsals were genuinely exhausting—the acting training card was an unrelenting torment to her spirit—the effort and reward were proportionate.

Strictly speaking, this was indeed acting skill Bai Ling had earned through hard work. She had merely accelerated the process by using a bit of cheating.

After overcoming that hurdle, the path ahead became much smoother. Within just a few days, Bai Ling had filmed the majority of her scenes. What remained were a few sequences that needed to be filled in with her co-stars—mostly minor details.

Her filming efficiency was simply outrageous.

Granted, “The Crown Princess’s Promotion Diary” didn’t have much content and was relatively easy to shoot, but Bai Ling managing to wrap up most of her scenes in just a few days was enough to make a point.

The acting training card was indeed well used.

As for the rest of the crew, they were now beginning to question the very meaning of their lives.

At first, everyone assumed Bai Ling would be the one holding them back, worried she’d slow down production. But the results completely subverted their expectations.

Bai Ling’s performance was so outstanding that the other actors began to feel a bit inadequate by comparison. Who would have imagined that a newcomer could adapt so seamlessly in her debut role?

Her only real stumble had been a single sequence with dozens of retakes. If it had been one of those popular but talentless idols of today, their fans would have trumpeted those dozens of NGs as proof of natural acting genius.

But Bai Ling quickly adjusted after her one misstep and, from then on, seemed almost divinely inspired.

Her craft might not yet be described as transcendental, but for this drama, it was more than sufficient.

As for the classically trained youngsters who had previously crossed paths with her, they now became her devoted fans—escorting her everywhere, letting her savor the joy of being the queen bee.

To be fair, among them was a true talent: a boy named Yue Peng, decent-looking and a capable actor.

Ouyang assigned him the role of the attendant following the male lead, and his performance was above average. According to Ouyang, he was a gifted child.

So Bai Ling was willing to recommend him—perhaps Sister Ge could sign him if possible. Of course, the final decision rested with Sister Ge; Bai Ling could only offer a modest suggestion.

But that was a matter for later.

Though Bai Ling had finished shooting—her wrap party complete—it didn’t mean the series would launch any time soon. After all, the crew wasn’t there to serve only her. The male lead and other cast members still had their scenes to complete, which would take much longer.

To save money, Ouyang had hired very few people; even the post-production would be handled by him alone. Though Ouyang was capable, this would inevitably slow progress.

Under these circumstances, Bai Ling was the first to wrap, but she would have to wait quite a while for Ouyang to deliver any concrete news of an online release.

Of course, this was a blessing in disguise.

For Bai Ling, it meant she could finally rest. Seven days in a week, two hours of effort, six days off—surely that wasn’t too much.

And for Sister Ge, it was good news too. Seven days in a week, two hours of rest, six days of hard work—surely that was reasonable.

After a tug-of-war, Sister Ge ultimately granted Bai Ling three days off, after which she’d have to attend a publicity event. Bai Ling was reluctant at first, but when told the event would promote the new drama, she agreed. After all, she was the investor, lead actress, and scriptwriter—how could she not care?

Three days of blissful idleness later, Bai Ling received her new schedule from Sister Ge.

It was a variety show—an interview type. Such shows were rather unique: the audience was sizable, but the format was simple, just the host and the guest on stage for a one-on-one interview. At most, there would be some audience members or fans present, but most were likely seat fillers—veteran actors from the station.

Since it was purely an interview, no performance or special skills were required, so Bai Ling didn’t mind.

However, there was one aspect that piqued her interest.

Because the format was so simple, the show’s ratings relied entirely on the guest’s popularity and the host’s professionalism.

Bai Ling certainly qualified on the popularity front. Even during filming, she’d been keeping an eye on the comments under her social media accounts. Miaomiao would also chat with her about happenings in the fan group.

So she knew her popularity hadn’t dipped at all—in fact, it had risen, thanks to the commencement of “A Bright Future.”

This was largely due to Wen Yan’s public relations work. Though there had been a surge of mocking comments aimed at Bai Ling at first, most who were drawn in were just casual viewers, not harboring much ill will. They simply kept watching.

As Wen Yan’s reputation improved, and as “A Bright Future” drew greater attention, Bai Ling and “The Crown Princess” benefited from the buzz as well.

It was just as well—Ouyang hadn’t spent much on early publicity or marketing. Wen Yan’s PR efforts had saved Bai Ling a substantial sum. From that perspective, Bai Ling owed her a heartfelt thanks.

The host of the interview show was also quite famous—a former national broadcaster anchor, well-respected for professionalism and once a household name. Recently, however, she’d been absent from galas and other events.

According to Sister Ge, this was a routine interview—many celebrities who had exploded onto the scene had been interviewed on this show. Some had soared to new heights afterward; others had faded into obscurity.

It all depended on fate.

But Sister Ge was confident Bai Ling would gain something from it. Regardless, it was a great platform—if nothing else, an excellent channel for publicity.

Bai Ling considered this and agreed.

However, when she learned there was no appearance fee for the show, she couldn’t help feeling a bit disgruntled.

Sister Ge, meanwhile, could only shrug helplessly.

“Not every program pays an appearance fee. For some hugely popular shows, you even have to pay to get on.”

“Take ‘Come Celebrate the New Year at My Place,’ for example. If not for your current popularity, we’d definitely have to fork over a hefty sum.”