Life countdown begins, ice queen bursts into security room

The screening room was dimly lit, and Ye Anran sat in the last row in the corner.

The black baseball cap was pulled low, and the black mask covered most of his face.

With his arms crossed in front of his chest and his back ramrod straight, he exuded a cool and aloof aura that kept strangers at bay.

On the big screen, Xia Luo disrupts the wedding and is chased by Ma Dongmei with a kitchen knife. He hides in the bathroom toilet and plunges back into his high school classroom in 1997.

The audience in the front row had already started laughing.

Ye Anran remained expressionless.

In her view, such exaggerated physical conflict was too low-level.

Chen Kai is right, it's just a farce.

The story continues.

To prove he was dreaming, Xia Luo forcibly kissed Qiu Ya and beat up Teacher Wang.

He then jumped off a building, woke up in a hospital bed, and discovered that he had indeed returned to the past.

The burdens began to fall heavily.

Laughter echoed through the screening room.

A man in a down jacket next to her laughed so hard he slapped his thigh, scattering popcorn all over the ground, a few kernels hitting Ye Anran's boots.

The corners of her mouth involuntarily turned up.

She immediately bit her lower lip, forcibly suppressing the smile; it wasn't a big deal.

On the screen, Yuan Hua kneels in the snow, looking up at the sky and shouting "No—".

The exclusive background music, "A Spray of Plum Blossoms," started playing without warning.

"Snowflakes are falling, the north wind is howling—"

Coupled with Yuan Hua's desperate yet comical face, it instantly shattered everyone's sense of humor.

"puff--"

Ye Anran couldn't help herself.

A soft laugh escaped from the edge of her mask.

She suddenly covered her mouth, her eyes widening.

She actually laughed.

But once the defenses show cracks, collapse is only a matter of time.

Charlotte started "copying songs," and he brought one hit song after another to the stage ahead of time, making him a big star.

Teacher Wang displayed his prowess in the alley, performing a set of Tai Chi moves with fluid grace, while chanting "I am a teacher."

Ye Anran lowered her hand from her mouth.

Her shoulders began to shake violently.

She gave up struggling.

That's hilarious.

It wasn't the kind of awkward laughter, but rather the reaction that arose from the perfect harmony between the plot, pacing, and dialogue.

Every character is believable, even the supporting characters are surprisingly vivid.

The atmosphere in the screening room was extremely enthusiastic.

Ye Anran even heard someone in the front row laughing so hard they almost choked.

The movie is now in its second half.

Charlotte achieved great success, but lost what was most precious to her.

On the screen, Charlotte is eating noodles, and tears fall into her bowl.

The screening room fell silent.

The audience, who were just laughing hysterically, are now looking for tissues.

The guy next to me who was scattering popcorn was sniffing.

Ye Anran leaned back in her chair, her eyes above her mask reddening.

A tear slid down her cheek, seeping into her black mask and bringing a touch of coolness.

She got it.

At its core, comedy is tragedy.

Jiang Fan uses an absurd time-travel dream to thoroughly explain the greed and regret in human nature.

This is not some cheap, money-grabbing film at all.

This is a top-tier commercial film with a tight structure and rich emotions.

In contrast, "Martial Arts" features empty scenes, obscure dialogue, and an artificial attempt at art for art's sake.

Inside, she wore a gorgeous costume and recited incomprehensible lines like a puppet.

Ye Anran closed her eyes.

Lost.

It's 1:30 a.m.

The movie ended.

Ye Anran wrapped her down jacket tighter, pulled her hat brim lower, and followed the flow of people out of the cinema.

The cold wind blowing on her face made her feel much more awake.

A black van was parked in the shadows at the intersection.

Ye Anran opened the car door, sat in the back seat, and closed the door, shutting out the cold air from outside.

Fang, the agent, sat next to me and quickly handed me a cup of hot coffee.

"How was it? Wasn't it incredibly boring?" Fang Jie's tone was ingratiating. "Those positive reviews online are definitely paid trolls that Jiang Fan paid to write. Our PR department is all set; we'll release a press release first thing tomorrow morning to get the situation back on track."

Ye Anran took the coffee and warmed her hands.

She reached out and took off her mask.

The carriage was lit by a dim, yellowish reading light.

Fangjie immediately noticed the tear stains at the corners of her eyes and her slightly reddened eye sockets.

Fangjie froze, her voice stuck in her throat.

"Anran, you...you're crying?"

"Sister Fang." Ye Anran's voice was a little hoarse, but her tone was extremely calm. "Martial Arts lost."

Fangjie opened her mouth wide, her face full of disbelief.

"Don't scare me. It's just a comedy, how could it be..."

"That's no ordinary comedy." Ye Anran turned to look out the window. "The script, the pacing, the emotional direction—it's all textbook-level. Jiang Fan is a genius."

Fangjie got anxious.

"Even so, you can't boost their morale! The internet is full of people criticizing you, saying your acting was completely outshone by Ma Dongmei. We have to fight back!"

"No."

Ye Anran took out her phone and unlocked the screen.

She opened Weibo, went directly to the posting interface, and rapidly tapped her fingers on the screen.

Fang Jie peeked out and her expression changed drastically.

She lunged at him, trying to snatch the phone.

"An Ran! You're insane! Posting this Weibo is a slap in the face to Chen Kai, and a slap in the face to the entire Longyao Media!"

Ye Anran flicked her wrist, avoiding Fang Jie's hand.

Click.

send.

Two o'clock in the morning.

The Weibo server experienced a brief lag.

A late-night post from pop diva Ye Anran went viral without any prior announcement, immediately topping the trending topics list.

Just finished watching the midnight showing of *Goodbye Mr. Loser*. I laughed and cried. It's an excellent film. I also admit that my performance in *Martial Arts* had significant problems and needs serious reflection.

There were no pictures, just a few dozen dry words.

An earthquake struck the entire internet.

Ye Anran, the female lead of "Martial Arts" and a top star in the Chinese entertainment industry, actually posted an article at 2 a.m., publicly admitting defeat to "Goodbye Mr. Loser"!

The comment section exploded instantly, with tens of thousands of comments appearing with each refresh.

"Holy crap! Sister Anran is so magnanimous! She dares to acknowledge others' excellence; that's what a true diva is!"

"Chen Kai's face must be swollen, right? Even his leading lady betrayed him!"

"Where are those people who said Jiang Fan manipulated box office figures? Come out and show yourselves! Even Ye Anran was utterly defeated!"

"Perspective! What does perspective mean?! This is what a top female celebrity in the Chinese entertainment industry should be like!"

Kyoto, Chen Kai's villa.

A loud bang came from the study.

Chen Kai kicked over the mahogany tea table in front of him, shattering the valuable purple clay teaware on the floor.

He stared at Ye Anran's Weibo posts on his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot and his chest heaving violently.

"Betrayal! This is blatant betrayal!" Chen Kai roared, his voice echoing in the empty study.

He grabbed the ashtray from the table and smashed it against the wall.

"Bang!"

The ashtray was broken into pieces.

"Who does she think she is? Without me, would she be where she is today? Now she's actually going to fawn over a songwriter!"

Chen Kai, panting heavily, slumped into the boss's chair.

He was afraid.

The daily box office of "Martial Arts" fell below 100 million yuan.

The number of films scheduled for release in theaters has been cut again and again.

According to the guarantee agreement, he will not only lose his reputation this time, but also be burdened with huge debts.

Now even Ye Anran has jumped off the train.

A senior executive from Longyao Media just called, speaking sternly, and told him to immediately find a way to quell the public outcry.

How to quell this?

Chen Kai dug his hands into his hair and gripped it tightly.

What can he use to compete with that monster that raked in nearly 200 million yuan in box office revenue in a single day?

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

In Shanghai, a van speeds through the night.

Fangjie slumped in her chair, staring at the rapidly rising trending search data on her phone.

"It's over, it's all over. Longyao Media will definitely blacklist us."

Ye Anran picked up the already warm coffee and took a sip.

"Ban me? They don't have that ability." Ye Anran said calmly. "My commercial value speaks for itself. Besides, this movie was ruined by Chen Kai, what does it have to do with me? By taking the initiative to admit my mistake, I actually saved my casual fans."

Fangjie was stunned for a moment.

A closer look at the comments section revealed that, sure enough, most netizens were praising Ye Anran for her genuine personality and broad perspective.

"But what do we do next?" Fangjie was still a little worried.

Ye Anran put down her coffee cup.

"Please check Jiang Fan's schedule for me."

Fangjie was completely bewildered: "Why are you investigating him? He's our mortal enemy now."

"A mortal enemy?" Ye Anran turned her head, looked at Sister Fang, her eyes clear. "There are no eternal enemies in the entertainment industry. He has scripts, resources, and can control the market."

Fang opened her mouth, then took a while to find her voice: "You're going to beg him?"

"It's not called begging," Ye Anran corrected her, "it's called cooperation."