"Won't kneel? Then get the hell out!"

Deep into the night, inside the makeup trailer of the film set, Han Zi, the assistant, stood quietly as the actress Lian Yue hurled insults at her. With a demure smile on her delicate face, she remained unruffled, neither cowering nor defiant. No matter how harsh Lian Yue's words were, Han Zi's calm demeanor made the actress feel like she was punching cotton—futile and infuriating. Lian Yue's face twisted in rage, her cheeks puffing up like a balloon about to burst.

"Say something! Why the silent act? You’re usually so talkative! All I asked was for you to kneel and hold the mic for me at the press conference, and you had the nerve to refuse—right in front of everyone! Do you have any idea how humiliated I was? Was it really that hard to just kneel for once?"

"Lian Yue, please don’t be upset. I refused for your own good," Han Zi replied, her voice sweet and clear. Her large, expressive eyes met Lian Yue’s without flinching, as if every word came straight from the heart.

If not for her revenge plan, Han Zi wouldn’t have bothered with this shallow, brainless woman. In fact, if not for vengeance, she wouldn’t have entered the entertainment industry at all. And if not for that, she wouldn’t be working as Lian Yue’s assistant, enduring her tantrums. But it didn’t matter—soon, all of this would be over.

Lian Yue’s anger flared even hotter. "Who are you calling 'Lian Yue'? How many times do I have to tell you not to address me like that? Do I look old to you? I’m only 25!"

Han Zi suppressed an eye-roll. *Actually, 28—she just faked her ID.*

"Of course, my mistake, *Miss* Lian Yue. But I truly meant well. Don’t you remember what happened when Ji FeiFei made her assistant kneel with the mic? She got torn apart on Weibo—people called her every name in the book. If I’d obeyed you today, wouldn’t your fans accuse you of being a diva who disrespects others? You already have enough haters lately—why hand them more ammunition?"

It was common for assistants to hold microphones during interviews, especially when reporters swarmed. But there was an art to it—positioning it just right to capture sound without blocking the camera or, worse, obscuring the star’s flawless face. Kneeling might seem practical, but few celebrities actually demanded it. The backlash wasn’t worth the humiliation.

Yet Lian Yue had been on edge lately, and this assistant’s constant defiance was the last straw. Today’s outburst was inevitable.

"Spare me the excuses! Ji FeiFei is a washed-up nobody—how dare you compare her to me? You’re just trying to undermine me! Let me remind you, countless people would kill to be *my* assistant. Either do your job or get out!"

"You’re absolutely right, Miss Lian Yue. It won’t happen again. But please, don’t stay angry—wrinkles aren’t flattering, and your complexion will suffer. Don’t forget, you have that important love scene later. What if Emperor Huo notices your mood and thinks you’re reluctant to film with him?" Han Zi coaxed, handing her a freshly prepared glass of juice. "Your favorite—freshly squeezed orange, packed with vitamin C. One sip, and you’ll glow like always~"

Flattery did the trick. Lian Yue’s expression softened as she snatched the glass and downed it in one go, as if granting a royal pardon.

You're absolutely right—the chance to film a steamy scene with the award-winning actor Huo Junxi is once in a lifetime. Forget about his impossibly handsome face that could make gods and mortals alike swoon; just the thought of the Huo family's billions is enough to make her seize this opportunity. If she can seduce Huo Junxi in bed, she'll marry into wealth and never have to endure the indignities of acting again!

A smug smile flickered across Lian Yue's face before she suddenly remembered something. "Did you wash my underwear?" she demanded. "Let me remind you, my lingerie is high-end—hand wash only. Since the maid isn't here, you'd better do it right. If you ruin anything, I'm docking your pay!"

Han Zi's expression had already shifted as she watched Lian Yue—or rather, ever since Lian Yue drank that juice. "Big Sister Lian Yue," she said coolly, "aren’t you a little old to have someone else wash your underwear? Do you even know the meaning of shame?"

**CRASH!**

Lian Yue hurled her glass to the floor, leaping to her feet in a fury. "What did you just say?" she shrieked, jabbing a finger at Han Zi’s face. "How dare you call me shameless! You’re fired! Get out—**OUT!**"

Her voice was so piercing it left ears ringing.

Just as the assistant director pushed open the door, that thunderous "**OUT!**" hit him like a physical blow, making his heart skip a beat.

"What’s going on here?" he barked. "Lian Yue, get ready—Scene 198 is about to start. Head to the set now."

Lian Yue spun around instantly. "Yes, yes, I’ll be right there!"

Her ability to switch moods was nothing short of masterful.

But the assistant director recoiled in horror. "Wh-what… Lian Yue, what’s wrong with your face? Why are there so many purple blotches?"

Panicked, Lian Yue whirled toward the mirror.

Sure enough, beneath her flawless makeup and glamorous outfit, angry purple welts had erupted across her skin—too prominent for even the thickest foundation to hide.

"Oh no! What's going on? How could I be having an allergic reaction? I'm only allergic to mangoes, and I didn't eat any—I just had some orange juice," she muttered to herself, her fingers anxiously tracing the contours of her face.

She had always been allergic solely to mangoes. Even the slightest accidental ingestion would, within minutes, cover her face and body in purple splotches. That's why she was always so careful.

Suddenly, her gaze fell upon the shattered glass on the floor.

"It's you! You did this to me!" Her accusatory finger shot toward Han Zi.

In that very instant, a devilish smirk flickered across Han Zi's delicate features—so fleeting it might have been Lian Yue's imagination.

"Big sister, no, you've got it all wrong," Han Zi protested, her face a picture of earnest concern, her voice dripping with sincerity.

The assistant director, Liu Qi, was beside himself. "What are we going to do? We're about to start filming in minutes! How are we supposed to shoot with your face like this? There's no way the award-winning actor Huo could bring himself to kiss you looking like that! Oh god, what do I do? The director's going to kill me!"

Lian Yue was on the verge of tears, but the splotches would take at least two or three days to fade.

Han Zi piped up helpfully, "Brother Qi, why not find a body double? Otherwise, the director will definitely blame you. I've heard that Huo is as cold as ice and has a terrible temper. If his schedule gets delayed because of this, you'll be in deep trouble..."

"I'd love to find a double, but we're out of time! Where am I supposed to find one now?" Liu Qi tugged at his hair in frustration. Then, his eyes lit up as they landed on Han Zi.

At just twenty, Han Zi was flawless—her delicate features impeccable, her figure perfectly proportioned, slender yet curvaceous. While her body and face shape resembled Lian Yue's, the 28-year-old actress couldn't compare to Han Zi's youthful freshness and refined beauty. A girl like this was bound to make it big sooner or later. Why not do her a favor now?

"You'll do!" Liu Qi grabbed Han Zi's wrist. "You're the body double. We don't have time—come with me to change, now!"

Han Zi's eyes widened in apparent shock, her expression the picture of innocent surprise. But inside, she remained utterly calm.

Everything was going exactly as planned.