It's just that they have money.

"Yes." Her voice was soft. "Mr. Fang, to be honest, I was worried at first. Not that I was worried you wouldn't dare to speak up, but that I was worried you would think... it wasn't worth falling out over something like this."

"I didn't get angry," Fang Chen corrected her. "I just didn't give them face."

"In this industry, not giving someone face means turning your back on them," Gao Jie said. "Your attitude just now was even worse than turning your back on them."

"Fine." Fang Chen didn't seem to care much.

That topic ended there, and Fang Chen turned the conversation back to work, chatting with Gao Jie about film and television production.

In the past ten minutes or so, half of the dishes on the table had been eaten, and the atmosphere had become much more relaxed.

The noise from the small restaurant gradually faded into the background. Two young men in theatrical costumes at a table in the distance had finished eating and were wiping their mouths as they walked out. One of them was still on the phone, speaking loudly: "...We filmed fourteen takes today, and the director is still not satisfied. I'm going crazy..."

The girl had a small appetite, so Gao Jie put down her chopsticks first: "President Fang, I'm not someone who easily expresses loyalty to others. Having been in this industry for so long, I've seen too many bosses and said a lot of nice things."

She looked at Fang Chen with a very serious gaze.

"But you're different. What you did today is more important than any year-end bonus I've ever received in this industry."

Fang Chen picked up his glass, poured water instead of wine, and clinked it against hers.

The three of them ate for a while longer, and the dishes on the table were almost all gone.

Fang Chen leaned back in his chair, looking at the dishes, and suddenly spoke.

"Sister Gao, I have a question for you."

"you say."

"You've worked at Firefly for so many years, how has Zhou Yaoguang treated you?"

Gao Jie thought for a moment and said, "President Zhou isn't a bad person. He treats his employees well, never delays their wages, and gives out bonuses during holidays. But he's a creator, not a manager. He doesn't manage company affairs much; he spends most of his time on his own projects. The reason Firefly has lasted so many years isn't because of management, but because of luck."

"luck?"

"Yes, luck," Gao Jie said. "We caught the wave of online dramas, produced a few decent shows, and built up some reputation. But the wave passed, our luck ran out, and the company couldn't hold on."

"Okay," Fang Chen said noncommittally, "then I might have better luck."

After Gao Jie finished speaking, he picked up the now-cold tea and drank it all in one gulp. Then he put the teacup on the table and stood up.

"Mr. Fang, I'll go settle the bill."

"I'll do it," Fang Chen said, standing up as well.

Gao Jie pressed down on his shoulder, her tone unusually uncompromising.

"This meal is on me. Not because you're the boss, but because I want to treat you."

Fang Chen did not persist.

Gao Jie walked to the counter, scanned the code to pay, and when she turned back, her expression was much more relaxed than before.

The three of them walked out of the small restaurant. The night breeze was a bit cooler than before. There were far fewer pedestrians on the street, and only a few barbecue stalls were still lit up, with a few tables of customers sitting sparsely.

Fang Chen stood at the door, took out his phone and glanced at the time; it was almost ten o'clock.

Fang Chen called for a ride-hailing service online and opened the car door: "Xu Wen, take Sister Gao home first, I'll go home by myself."

Xu Wen hesitated for a moment.

"Boss, do you know the way?"

Fang Chen smiled.

"I'm not bad with directions. Even if I get lost, I have GPS. You guys go ahead, don't worry about me."

Xu Wen nodded, opened the car door, and let Gao Jie get in first.

As the car started, Gao Jie rolled down the window and leaned out.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Fang."

"See you tomorrow."

The car turned the corner, its taillights disappearing into the night.

Fang Chen still needed time to process the anger from the dinner party. He stood by the roadside, put his hands in his pockets, and slowly walked back alone.

The night wind blew in from the alley entrance, making the plastic signs on the roadside rustle.

He walked slowly, his mind still racing with the events of the dinner party: Sun Yiming's flushed face, Zhou Yaoguang's awkward smile, the grease on President Li and President Wang's chins—he replayed each scene in his mind.

He wasn't reviewing what he had said.

Those words were spoken without any intention of being taken back, so there's nothing to regret.

He was just wondering how many people, like her, had endured for over a decade, to the point that they had forgotten they shouldn't have endured it, behind Gao Jie's statement that "everyone in the industry is like this."

Just then, I caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of my eye.

Fang Chen had no intention of stopping.

There are too many people squatting on the streets of Hengdian.

There were all sorts of people: extras waiting for their scenes, tourists waiting for their buses, and passersby waiting for their friends.

But after taking a couple of steps, he suddenly realized that the figure looked familiar.

He stopped, took two steps back, and tilted his head to look at it.

The girl seemed to sense something and looked up.

The light from the streetlamp fell on her face, and Fang Chen recognized those eyes.

Round and shiny, with a hint of panic, it was the shadow of when I almost bumped into him at the alley entrance of Fengtian Film and Television City more than a month ago.

Wang Shiyi.

She recognized him too, paused for a moment, then stood up quickly. The movement was so sudden that her legs, which had been squatting for a long time, went numb, and she swayed. She quickly grabbed the lamppost next to her.

"You...you are that..." She opened her mouth, but couldn't remember Fang Chen's name. However, the expression on her face had changed from confusion to surprise.

"Fang Chen," he said, "we met in Fengtian, the time Zhao Xiaole took you to see Director Liu."

"Yes, yes, Brother Fang!" Wang Shiyi nodded repeatedly, then pursed his lips somewhat shyly, "I haven't had a chance to thank you for what happened last time. If it weren't for you, I definitely wouldn't have been able to find Director Liu's office that day."

Fang Chen smiled but didn't respond to that.

He glanced at Wang Shiyi and noticed that her eyes were slightly red and the tip of her nose was also a little red, as if she had just cried or as if the night wind had blown it.

What are you doing here?

Wang Shiyi's smile froze for a moment, but quickly recovered. However, the smile that recovered was not quite the same as the one before; it had an extra layer of thin, fragile, and forced expression.

"I'm here for an audition," she said, her voice a little softer than before.

"Did you get the job?"

Wang Shiyi shook her head, pursed her lips as if trying to swallow something back, but didn't.

She lowered her head, looked at the tips of her shoes, remained silent for two seconds, and then spoke in a very soft tone, as if talking to herself.

"I had auditioned for the role. I auditioned this afternoon, and the assistant director said it went well and told me to go home and wait for news. I went to the set again tonight to ask about the result, and someone told me that the investor had put someone else in, and that role was gone."

After she finished speaking, she looked up and smiled at Fang Chen, a smile that seemed to be deliberately put on to avoid an awkward situation.

"It's okay, it's not the first time anyway. In Hengdian, this kind of thing is very common."

When she said that this kind of thing was perfectly normal, her tone was almost exactly the same as Gao Jie's when she said that this was how it was in the industry.

Everyone tacitly accepts the existence of these unspoken rules.