I have a persona specifically for acting.

“Romance variety show?”

After hearing Tong Zhao’s decision, Sister Chu gave her a subtle look, one that seemed to say—

“Are you trying to pull another stunt?”

She had the same expression when Tong Zhao wanted to take on a big female lead role in a zombie action film.

At that time, she had stopped her, but considering the box office success of *Countdown 72 Hours*, her advice lingered on her lips. Instead of directly dissuading her, she said, “The show you’ve chosen is in holographic format, which is similar to shooting a reality film. It will reveal your most authentic side.”

With current technology, holographic filming can only be done this way.

Audiences seem to love it.

It makes sense; people want to see the real side of glamorous stars, and even for ordinary people with no fame, exposing their true nature can be intriguing—whether it’s a seemingly innocent student engaging in shady online activities, a well-educated white-collar worker secretly mistreating stray cats, or a wealthy young man showing his lonely and kind side…

Whether good or bad, it’s all about satisfying voyeuristic desires.

The criminal code outlines ways to make big money.

And industries that cater to human vices often make a substantial profit.

“Although traditional variety shows have fewer viewers, they are stable and can help establish your existing persona,” Sister Chu said.

Tong Zhao shook her head.

She was confident this variety show would be a hit. Since she had been invited, she didn’t want to miss out.

Perhaps it was a habit from her experiences in the quick-wear world of completing tasks and missions, Tong Zhao found it hard to relax. She was always purposeful, and if she stopped for a moment, she began to feel anxious, eager to keep working. High productivity was a source of her security; not advancing meant falling behind, and she wouldn’t let an opportunity slip by.

However, she needed a good reason to reassure her manager.

“I also want to experience a sweet, innocent romance in a variety show.”

Tong Zhao said.

As she spoke, her aura seemed to radiate an otherworldly charm, as if every word she said was profound wisdom.

“Are you sure?”

Sister Chu gave her a sidelong glance and flipped over the proposal for the romance variety show to show her the content summary.

“Beware of the Heartbreaker: Conquering the Heart”

“Six single men and women will live under the same roof. They will forget their real-life identities and receive a new identity card, along with different tasks, and must find a way to earn living expenses. Each person has one opportunity to confess their feelings. Will you find true love, or will you be just another fish in someone else’s pond? Be careful, as there are two heartbreakers among the six, with impure motives aiming to set your heart on fire.”

…

Sweet, innocent romance.

Tong Zhao felt a bit pained, but she was certain Empress Shen would love this concept.

Without missing a beat, she said, “I’m sure. It’s perfect for me as if it was tailor-made for me.”

Tong Zhao was confident. Even if she didn’t draw the heartbreaker card, she had the ability to make any heartbreaker release all the fish in their pond and love only her. After all, how could a mere heartbreaker compare to an emperor with three thousand beauties? An emperor doesn’t just have a pond but the entire Pacific Ocean and he alone favors her, a beautiful mermaid.

Sister Chu studied her for a moment, then nodded without further discussion. “Alright, I’ll clear your schedule.”

She made a few notes on the calendar. “You’ll need to film a promotional video before entering the cabin, and the identity cards will be drawn before filming starts.”

That was good.

If a more suitable personality emerged, it could be swapped in advance.

“Is there a script?” Tong Zhao asked.

“Reality variety shows only have guiding plots, not the kind of script you’re imagining for traditional variety shows.”

“Oh, and at the beginning of next month, you and a few other leads from ‘72 Hours’ need to appear on a show for promotion. You’ll need to keep that day free…”

“How long will ‘Survivor Island’ take to film? If it’s less than three days, I’d like to join,” she said, recalling what Duan Ge mentioned.

“Sure.”

After some back-and-forth, Tong Zhao’s electronic calendar was filled to the brim with appointments.

*

After finishing ‘72 Hours,’ Tong Zhao enjoyed a valuable week off.

She had slept all day in the apartment, spent the entire next day dealing with personal matters at her computer, and was woken up on the third day by the doorbell.

Expecting it to be some kind of sales visit, she peered through the peephole and saw a familiar brown-dyed head—the long-lost Wei Dasha.

Tong Zhao opened the door, a bit surprised. “A rare visitor.”

Wei Zekai didn’t come empty-handed; he carried two large bags full of items and, without hesitation, took off his shoes and walked in. The bags were filled with daily necessities, and soon enough, he had packed her refrigerator and bathroom cabinet. Tong Zhao was even more surprised. “So, you’ve finally decided to give up on inheriting the family business to become a civil servant, and you’re practicing precise poverty alleviation at my place?”

“Poverty alleviation my foot, I’m just worried you might starve at home.”

Wei Zekai had seen her perform on stage with Xu Zhu and, concerned that she might be feeling down, found an excuse to check on her.

Seeing that she was doing well, he felt relieved and started paying attention to some trivial matters. “By the way, can you perform that thing again?”

“What thing?”

“You know,” Wei Zekai gestured on his thigh, “the one with the bullet.”

Tong Zhao forced a smile. “I could use your head to demonstrate bowing.”

“Ugh.”

Although he knew it was impossible, Wei Zekai still sighed deeply with regret.

Tong Zhao rummaged through the snacks he hadn’t put in the refrigerator and found three large packs of premium cigarettes, clearly expensive. She was speechless. “Why did you buy me cigarettes? When have you ever seen me smoke?”

“You smoked in the movie.”

Wei Zekai gave her a sidelong glance.

The rebellious young man’s usually cool and arrogant face was now full of melancholy.

Tong Zhao, even if slow on the uptake, understood. She slammed the table. “Do you really like the character Feng Yanqi I played?”

Wei Zekai extended his face. “It’s somewhat interesting.”

“So you do like it.”

Tong Zhao found it amusing, unpacked the cigarettes and lighter he gave her, and, like in the movie, flicked the lighter with a flourish before lighting the cigarette. She held it between her fingers and gave him a smile that was very much in the style of “Duan Ge,” making this arrogant young master freeze in place. Before he could react, she extinguished the cigarette. “How’s that? I’ve even done a special performance just for you.”

… So cool!

Wei Zekai took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. “It is somewhat interesting.”

Tong Zhao chuckled, then remembered something important.

“Wen Kai and the others mentioned wanting to invest in the film industry before, right? It definitely has potential, but I think their vision is still a bit narrow. Relying solely on your pocket money and my current salary won’t be enough.”

The film industry is an expensive endeavor, and even the Tong family might struggle with it.

The Wei family, however, could handle it.

But Wei Zekai’s reputation was a concern. As far as Tong Zhao knew, his most profitable investments were those where he did nothing at all. During periods when he followed motivational posts on WeChat and Zhihu about starting businesses, he ended up losing a lot of money.

This led his well-meaning friends to secretly feed him the toxic message, “Effort doesn’t guarantee success, but not trying is definitely comfortable,” to prevent him from wasting more money.

The Wei family no longer dared to let him play around and planned to find someone else to manage the group in the future, turning Wei Zekai into a figurehead. They hoped he would quickly settle down, start a family, and have a grandchild with some investment sense, or even a granddaughter would do.

Although Wei Zekai had already given up on starting a business, his legendary status still persisted in the world.

A legendary status earned for nothing.

But Tong Zhao remembered that, in her previous life, Wei Zekai had initially failed many times before learning from his mistakes and improving.

But now, no one believes he can succeed.

“I’ll find a way to get some money from home,” Wei Zekai pondered, causing his family’s elder to have a headache. “Should I go back and tell them I’ll castrate myself if they don’t give me a billion?”

“If you say anything more, I might not be able to stop myself from stepping in,” Tong Zhao shot him a look. “I want to pool the money and give you some investment advice, as long as you trust my judgment.”

Firstly, she has a few years’ worth of advanced knowledge about which companies and stocks will rise.

Secondly, her experiences in the modern world of quick-wear have also given her some insights into investing.

What she lacks is the capital.

She also wants to create a business circle where she holds the leading position, a circle that Xu Zhu and the Tong family have no right to touch.

Not only does she want to act, but she also wants to surpass Tong Zhenming in his most proud field.

“Actually, even if you hadn’t come to me, I was planning to invite you out to discuss something serious,” Tong Zhao said, walking over to the top of the cluttered cabinet with her long legs. She placed a document, which had been weighed down by a mooncake tin, in front of Wei Zekai. The faint smell of smoke still lingered in the air, adding a touch of business atmosphere to the otherwise casual setting. As Wei Zekai looked at her, he almost saw through her and glimpsed the highly confident female lead from *Countdown 72 Hours*.

“Duan Ge” is just one of Tong Zhao’s personas in the world; she is still herself.

“Here are seven investment opportunities I’m very optimistic about. You can review the details. They’ll use up more than a year’s worth of your pocket money, including my acting fees. You can take them back to consult a lawyer and see if there’s anyone else who wants to join us.”

Tong Zhao paused and gave him a teasing smile:

“Mr. Wei, are you willing to go bankrupt with me again?”

Her young and beautiful face radiated with vibrant ambition, burning into Wei Zekai’s retina.

After understanding her words, Wei Zekai’s heart raced.

He was moved.

Not in a romantic sense.

Why do rich second-generation heirs repeatedly fall for investment and entrepreneurship scams? It’s clear they could easily live a comfortable life just by collecting dividends and rent. The desire to prove oneself in youth often outweighs everything else. Everyone thinks Wei Zekai lacks the ability to start a business and the vision for investment…

But Tong Zhao was telling him to try again.

“Alright, I’ll go back and take a look,”

Wei Zekai made an effort to keep his voice calm, but he was insistent: “From now on, as long as you have a film you’re working on, my family will invest in it.”

He was eager to support his good friend in this way.

He wanted to tie his investment directly to the films she made.

Tong Zhao nodded without hesitation and smiled at him again.

The news about Wei Zekai and Tong Zhao working together spread quickly among the second-generation circles. Those who were friendly with Wei Zekai found it amusing and interesting, so without much hesitation, they joined the investment venture, forming an investment interest group. An unnamed friend even humorously renamed the group to:

【Mr. Wei’s Charity Foundation】

No one had much faith in this venture set up by the second-generation heirs playing around.

The most skeptical was Ning Zhiyi, who had just started dealing with the business in his own company.

He thought Tong Zhao must be crazy to be interested in Wei Zekai. Others also couldn’t understand why they would get involved, so he advised the more diligent and well-behaved second-generation heirs to stay away from this group that seemed like throwing money into the sea. His advice had some effect, as many cautious second-generation heirs turned down Wei Zekai’s invitation.