Prosperous Marriage: Unspoken Rules in the Entertainment Industry

"It's you? That's you too?" Jiang Ling looked at the wet reed in her palm, and then at the small notebooks scattered on the ground, whispering incredulously.

It was her, those notepads that had been sent to the backstage in a continuous flow of flowers and fruit baskets since he participated in the first "sing!" The gift tied with a bow and safely placed on his dressing table was actually drawn by the girl in front of me!

Although he has always been conceited and cold-tempered, he was also moved by this burning heart, and he once looked at this small hand-painted animation in the middle of the night when no one was around, looking for motivation and support for his own progress.

After Tea began to tour the country, he never received this heart-warming gift again. He thought it was just that the fans’ enthusiasm for idols had faded, but he never thought of it—it’s not that she didn’t love her anymore, she just chose to A more direct, harder way is to try to get in front of him.

"Yaocen, you..." Jiang Ling shook his head slowly, but didn't know what to say to be worthy of the girl's sincerity.

This soft call hit the girl's chest hard like a heavy hammer.

"That is the end of the world, that is the Land of Neverland, that is the silent ice and snow eight degrees below zero, that is the aurora in the blue sky that you never know, whether you can wait for it."

Yu Yaocen's mind flashed through the introductory words she had written with great enthusiasm on the Jiangling official, and finally completely collapsed.

She began to be honest with Jiang Ling about all the past and the past, how she looked at Wannian, and her heart was moved by that cold young man who just flashed by on the screen; how she smiled brightly and warmly in the studio. In the sun, I foolishly drew pencil drawings one after another; I said how I was enthusiastically posting on technical forums, hiding under the quilt at midnight and flipping through those obscure programming books, just to build That official prototype that now seems to be very crude; how he happily established the Gangneung National Support Association with like-minded friends happily; Looking forward to canvassing votes for him one by one, making pictorials and banners one by one.

She talked about her looking up to him, about the joy after an unintentional look, about her discouragement, about her helplessness, about the despair of covering her face with her hands in the rainy night, and about those people who had no one after tossing and turning. It can be said that the sweetness and sorrow of the girl in her fantasy.

Her tears fell gradually, but she didn't stop talking until the hoarseness of her voice couldn't cover the heart-piercing despair.

She didn't look at him.

The indifferent mask on Jiang Ling's face finally began to slowly shatter—as a girl, let go of all self-esteem and pride, and cut herself open in front of him without leaving any retreat, how could he remain indifferent?

He is only a man, not a god.

The summer night is cool and moist, blowing up and down the white curtains in the ward.

In the night, someone is singing an unknown song, "How long have I not seen you, I thought you were there. It turns out that you live in my heart and accompany my breathing. How far away is it, I thought I couldn't smell your breath." Breath, who knew that your back was so long, and I saw you when I turned around