Chapter 9: He Changed—Becoming Even More Twisted

The atmosphere in the room was a bit peculiar. Qian Jida and Fan Orange were leaning together, reading the script from beginning to end. Their keen interest was mainly due to some classic comments Sumu had written in the margins; they were like finishing touches that brought the script to life.

Suddenly, Qian Jida looked up, pointing at the script in surprise. "Sumu, tell us about this scene. Why did you think Gao Qiqiang, who originally ate plain noodles, should be eating pork trotter noodles instead?"

Sumu smiled, then put on a serious face—the perfect moment to show off had arrived. "Alright, let me briefly explain my understanding of the changes I've made to the script, as well as my insights into that era. This story takes place in Guangyue City before the year 2000, so the details matter. It shouldn't be plain noodles, but rather the local specialty noodles, to make the depiction more vivid. I've studied how life was in Guangyue during that time, and it went like this..."

[Public Speaking Proficiency +1…+1…+1…+1]
[Skill Points +0.01…+0.01…]
Sumu seized the opportunity and started frantically racking up skill points. Beginning with the first page of the script, he explained every detail to Qian Jida and Fan Orange in the style of a lecture, going all the way to the final page. He only stopped when both of them had fallen fast asleep, curled up on the sofa.

In truth, they had wanted to sleep long before, but Sumu wasn’t about to miss the chance to grind for skill points and proficiency. So, for the first half of the night, coffee and fruit kept them awake, and for the second half, he woke them up himself. It wasn’t until three in the morning, when even he could no longer keep his eyes open, that they finally called it a night.

His mouth was dry and his tongue felt as if it would catch fire. But glancing at his panel’s progress, Sumu smiled in satisfaction.

[Male Artist Panel]
Skill Points: 0.95
[Public Speaking (Competent) Proficiency lv2: 23/50]
[Script Analysis (Competent) Proficiency lv2: 10/50]

After tormenting Qian Jida and Orange mercilessly, he had managed to accumulate 0.95 skill points. Now the rest would be easy—just a few more practice sessions at the right moment, and he’d have enough to exchange for a blind box.

Sumu was actually quite looking forward to it. According to the panel’s description, opening the blind box would let him choose a category and draw a reward. He wondered what sort of prize awaited him.

Meanwhile, his public speaking proficiency had already reached level 2—Competent. He could even feel his eloquence improving.

After a quick tidy-up, Sumu collapsed into bed in his own room. He truly couldn’t hold on any longer. He hadn’t slept in nearly two days—any more and he feared he’d collapse from exhaustion.

...

The next day.

Qian Jida and Fan Orange boarded the plane with dark circles under their eyes.

After being put through the wringer by Sumu, they both had the urge to abandon him entirely. But seeing him still poring over the script even after boarding, their hearts suddenly ached. They even felt the urge to go over and give him a comforting hug.

Qian Jida almost wanted to cry with relief. He glanced at Orange and sighed softly, “Sumu really has changed.”

Orange didn’t deny it, though she thought he had grown even more relentless. “He used to just put on a sleep mask and nap on flights, or chat with the flight attendants about life. But now, he’s actually reading the script.”

Qian Jida said, “Everyone grows up eventually. Our Sumu has matured, too.”

Orange asked, “President Qian, do you think he’ll succeed at the audition this time?”

Qian Jida replied, “I don’t know. But seeing how hard he’s worked to understand the script, I think there’s some hope.”

“There’s some, yes...” Orange felt a touch of melancholy as she watched Sumu flipping through the script, full of worry. Though her idols weren’t Sumu, but those boys from the idol trainee classes, she had grown attached to him after all this time. Sumu was one of their own, and more than that, he was her boss.

She had witnessed his dedication throughout this process. If he failed, not only would Sumu feel bad, but she, too, would take it hard. Who knew what people online would say about him then? Sumu might not check trending topics these days, but she did—and the mockery and ridicule she’d seen there was infuriating.

Thinking of this, Orange pouted, feeling that as Sumu’s close assistant, she had to do something. She pulled out her phone and opened Weibo, entering the ‘#Sumu Super Topic’ fan group, and began issuing orders.

[Weibo account Orange: Everyone! Sumu is working hard on the front lines right now! As his fan club, shouldn’t we do something to let him feel the warmth of our big family? Here’s a little spoiler about his schedule: In a few hours, we’ll arrive in Capital City. If anyone can come to the airport, you’re welcome! He’ll look super handsome today! Also, if you come, please keep order and don’t cause a crowd—otherwise, the news coverage will be negative. Lastly, I want to say that the recent trending comments about our Sumu have been really off! I don’t know if it’s just a few rival fans talking nonsense, but whoever’s trying to smear our Sumu in the comments section, we absolutely won’t stand for it! Today, let’s do a big clean-up—fill the comments with love! Go, everyone!]

Orange typed with passion, and if she could have used voice messages, she would have sounded rousing and heroic. She even secretly snapped a photo of Sumu and posted it.

The fan group instantly came alive.

[Wow! Sumu is coming to the capital? I’ll go meet him at the airport!]
[He must be here for an audition! We support him—go for it!]
[Everyone, let’s go! Commander Orange, lead us—the big clean-up in Sumu’s comments section!]
[That’s right, let’s use our love to move those trolls!]
[I’m on it! Let’s all go together!]

The fans were full of enthusiasm, and soon they flocked to Sumu’s Weibo, leaving a storm of supportive comments.

[Troll: Sumu’s acting is wooden—like a puppet.]
[Fan: Thank you for your comment, but even a puppet can be well-played—it’s not so bad.]

[Troll: Just a star promoted by money, only ever acts in trashy dramas. I suggest you don’t approach Director Zhang, or you’ll ruin his show.]
[Fan reply: Don’t be so quick to deny someone. Sumu is working hard to improve. Were any of you born actors? Every seasoned performer had to grow step by step. Can you have some patience?]

[Troll: You won’t get picked. Don’t waste the veterans’ time. Why not stick to playing domineering CEOs?]
[Fan reply: You’re right! Sumu’s CEO roles are the most handsome—thanks for the compliment!]

...

In first class, Sumu was still reading the script intently, unaware that his fans were fighting for him online.

A pretty flight attendant sitting across from him kept sneaking glances, unable to tear her eyes away. She was nearly drooling. It wasn’t the first time a celebrity had been spotted in first class, but Sumu’s focused, hardworking demeanor made him the most attractive she’d ever seen.

She pressed her knees together, her black stockinged legs shifting slightly, cheeks flushing red. Fortunately, the flight was smooth; otherwise, if Sumu happened to look her way, she might have had to go change uniforms.

[Script Analysis Proficiency +1]
[Skill Points +0.01]

...

Two hours later, Sumu suddenly snapped the script shut with a crisp sound, then gulped down a glass of water. He closed his dry eyes and leaned back against the seat.

[Male Artist Panel Parameters]
[Public Speaking (Competent) Proficiency lv2: 23/50]
[Script Analysis (Competent) Proficiency lv2: 15/50]
Skill Points: 1.0

[Congratulations! Skill points accumulated. You may spend 1.0 skill point to select a category blind box. Available types:
Mission Blind Box: 0
Work Blind Box: 0
Talent Blind Box: 0
Skill Blind Box: 0
Item Blind Box: 0
Attribute Blind Box: 0
…]

Finally, it was done.

A smile curled on Sumu’s lips.

Which one should I choose…