Chapter Sixty-Seven: Who Is Ordinary

“Aren’t you going back to sleep?” Lin Wan’er rolled her eyes—was this man truly clueless, or just pretending? Yet she kept her silence, and Ye Qiu said nothing either, aimlessly gazing around.

Stomping her foot in frustration, Lin Wan’er demanded, “Why did you follow me today? Are you afraid I’ll fall for Xie Hao’s tricks? Tell me, do you like me? Let me tell you, I don’t like pretty boys like you.”

“You’re really something, aren’t you? Ordinary girl,” Ye Qiu scoffed. “I admit you got the first part right, but I suggest you take back the second, before you embarrass yourself.”

“Tch, you pretty boys always love to play hard to get. Don’t think I don’t know.”

Ye Qiu...

“I’m warning you—don’t even think about making a move on me, or else… hmph…”

Ye Qiu was at a loss for words. This woman’s self-confidence was overwhelming. He was beginning to regret ever considering cooperating with her.

“You’re right. To avoid misunderstandings, we’d better go our separate ways.”

“Tch.” Lin Wan’er lifted her chin, amusement gleaming in her eyes. Still trying the old hard-to-get routine, thinking I’ll misunderstand and chase after you to apologize? I’ve seen this act more times than you can count. You’re still too green.

Lin Wan’er folded her arms, waiting for Ye Qiu to stop. But not only did he not stop, he flagged down a taxi on the roadside.

Lin Wan’er snorted again. Men were all the same—pretending to be upright, talking about going separate ways, but still calling a taxi to sit next to me.

Boring and childish.

Hm?

Why did he get into the taxi alone?

I would never ride in the same car as that guy.

Lin Wan’er looked around. Most people had already left the hilltop, the park was closing, and the surroundings were growing dim.

A faint breeze rustled the leaves, whispering through the darkness. It felt a little scary.

Suddenly she jumped up and chased after the taxi as it started, cursing as she ran.

She sprinted dozens of meters before the car finally stopped.

Panting, Lin Wan’er glared furiously at Ye Qiu. “It’s the middle of the night and you leave a girl alone in a park? Are you even a man? Typical frog-boy—so disappointing! No wonder Western men are so much more gentlemanly.”

Ye Qiu tapped the driver’s shoulder. “Drive, please.”

The car streaked away, merging with the glow of the streetlights, gradually fading from Lin Wan’er’s sight.

Bent over, hands on her knees, Lin Wan’er stomped and cursed, catching her breath.

The park was secluded, and at night no taxis would come this way. She could only call a ride with her phone.

Finally, someone accepted the order, but the ETA was at least twenty minutes. Lin Wan’er grew even angrier.

Her location wasn’t accurate, so the driver called to ask for details. Lin Wan’er vented all her frustration on him. “Isn’t the location set? Why call me? You don’t even know the roads, how are you driving?”

“Miss…”

“Don’t call me miss. Are you insulting me? Believe me, I’ll file a complaint!”

She called the complaint hotline, and as the driver arrived, headquarters phoned him and docked five hundred from his pay without even hearing him out.

The driver was desperate and got out to argue, but Lin Wan’er panicked, pulled out her phone, and called the police.

The driver was unlucky—his first night shift and he ran into her.

After reporting to the police, he dared not approach her, fearing he couldn’t explain himself.

Within minutes, police arrived. The driver, grateful for rescue, handed over his dashcam footage. Comparing it to street surveillance, it was clear there had been no contact—just a misunderstanding.

After the police left, Lin Wan’er, still unfazed, insisted the driver take her, complaining about his poor communication skills. If he’d explained better, she wouldn’t have misunderstood.

The driver canceled the order, refused the fare, and drove off alone.

Lin Wan’er was utterly dumbfounded. No matter how many times she called for a ride, no one accepted—drivers would even cancel system-assigned orders.

Alone at night, mosquito bites dotted her legs, itching and infuriating her.

She pinned all her grievances on Ye Qiu. If not for him, she wouldn’t have suffered like this.

“Damn Ye Qiu, rotten Ye Qiu, useless Ye Qiu—just wait, I’ll remember this!”

“Seems I really am ordinary after all.”

Lin Wan’er looked up—the taxi had returned, and that annoying guy was sticking his head out, grinning at her.

“You—”

She swallowed the last word.

A wise woman avoids immediate losses; she’d settle things with him later.

Lin Wan’er reached for the car door, only to find Ye Qiu unmoved, watching her with a mischievous look. “You what?”

Her anger nearly burst forth, but she held back, softening her voice after a long moment. “You’re the bigger person—don’t hold it against me. I was wrong, I’m ordinary, I apologize.”

“You? That’s not sincere at all.”

“What do you want, then?”

Her impatient words nearly made Ye Qiu tell the driver to leave, so she quickly relented. “What do you want, really?”

...

“Have you heard? Ring King 4 is going to be filmed in China, and they’re casting a Chinese actress for the male lead.”

“No way—the male lead was already set as Damon, wasn’t it? If they choose a Chinese actor for the lead, aren’t they giving up on the North American market?”

The news of Ring King 4 filming in China sparked a heated wave of discussion across forums and short video platforms.

The third Ring King film was a huge success.

Along with the Dwarf trilogy, it had earned billions at the box office. The chance to participate in such a blockbuster was priceless for Chinese celebrities—even a cameo could rocket their commercial value overnight.

Fans debated fiercely, and stars flocked to China, hoping for a role.

“Hello, Jiaqi, I’m Spi. Ring King 4 has ten minutes of scenes set in China. I’ve seen some of your performances and think you’d be perfect for the role. When are you free to audition?”

“I’m free—right now!”

Jiaqi hung up, jumping with excitement. If she had wings, she’d soar across the sky.

Gold always shines—her chance had finally come.

This time, she had to seize it.

George’s advice had worked; just showing a bit of her figure earned her an audition.

If she got ten minutes on screen… George was also the distributor for America. If she could become his girlfriend, she’d break into the American market.

Zhao Ying.

Hmph.

Just you wait.