Chapter 0354: A Glimpse of Beauty

"Hello, may I ask if this is Teacher Zhao Fusheng?"

On the other end of the line was the voice of an unfamiliar woman, very soft, very faint, as if devoid of any worldly air.

Zhao Fusheng frowned. At his mental age, few people could move him with just their voice, but this woman had managed to do so.

"Hello, this is Zhao Fusheng. May I ask who you are?" Zhao Fusheng was quite puzzled, because he was absolutely certain he had never met this person, and from the way she addressed him, it was clear they were not familiar with each other.

A woman he had never dealt with suddenly called him.

Zhao Fusheng was glad he didn't have a girlfriend now.

"My name is Yu Feihong." The caller identified herself, her voice clear, neither aggressive nor pretentious, but those five words alone carried a certain grace and nobility.

Blinking, Zhao Fusheng's mind conjured a face weathered by time. In his memory, Yu Feihong was one of the few actresses who, he felt, grew more beautiful with age.

Those familiar with the entertainment industry knew that the Chinese-language entertainment circle had so-called Beijing circle, Shanghai circle, and Sichuan circle. The big names in the Beijing circle were all illustrious figures, including Jiang Wen and Chen Daoming, as well as many others like the bald actor. But in this life, Zhao Fusheng hadn't found that master of rogue literature or Feng the Cannon, suggesting that history had undergone subtle changes.

As for the Shanghai circle, its representative was Wang Zhiwen, and the Sichuan circle's was Zhang Guoli. Others like Sun Honglei and Zhang Hanyu were considered peripheral figures in these circles.

Men, after all, have their circles, and naturally there must be goddesses. Simply put, the original goddess of the Beijing circle was that actress who shot the Gai Zhong Gai advertisement but later denied it, claiming with 'I was so naive, I didn't know it wasn't a public service ad' to explain she had been deceived.

In Zhao Fusheng's view, those business tycoons might be one thing, but if an international star who had won major awards, served as a film festival chair, and intended to pursue graduate studies couldn't tell a public service ad from a commercial one, no one would believe it even if they were beaten silly.

It could only be said that some celebrities were used to playing dumb and treating the audience as fools.

Of course, that was in the past. Now the Beijing circle goddess seemed to be the actress Xu Jing, who starred in "Cherish Our Love Forever." Zhao Fusheng had no particular impression of her; his only memory was that she seemed never to have married in his previous life, mysterious, with rumors linking her to Wang Shuo.

Of course, the one who called Zhao Fusheng, Sister Yu Feihong, seemed to have always remained behind the scenes from start to finish.

"Hello, Miss Yu. I've seen 'The Legend of the Flying Knife' and 'Holding Hands.'" Zhao Fusheng smiled, speaking to Yu Feihong. In fact, he had seen many more of her works, but today he could only mention these two.

"That's good, that's good. I guess I don't need to introduce myself then." Yu Feihong paused, then laughed: "I wonder if Planner Zhao could spare some time to meet me?"

Zhao Fusheng was taken aback: "Miss Yu, if I may ask, could you tell me who gave you my number?"

This question surprised Zhao Fusheng greatly, because few people had his number, and they were all acquaintances in the entertainment circle. Those who could intersect with Yu Feihong seemed truly few.

"Jiang Wen said you're a warm-hearted person, so I..." Yu Feihong hesitated, then explained.

Life has many facets, circumstances differ. Perhaps because she was now thirty, Yu Feihong's voice was neither loud nor soft, her pace neither fast nor slow, gentle and measured, allowing one to understand her meaning after hearing only half.

Zhao Fusheng smiled: "It seems Teacher Jiang has sold me out."

Although he had only spent a few days with Jiang Wen, their relationship was fairly good. Through mutual efforts to connect, they had established some contact. During the Spring Festival, Zhao Fusheng had called Jiang Wen to wish him a happy new year and also inquired about the progress of the project "Devils on the Doorstep."

But at that time, Jiang Wen hadn't mentioned anything about Yu Feihong. Since that was the case, it seemed something had happened recently.

"I know you're still in school, and it's just after the start of the semester. I wonder if you have time. I can come to Ninghai to see you." Yu Feihong said sincerely.

Zhao Fusheng was startled, then nodded: "Alright, Miss Yu can call me when you arrive in Ninghai."

Although he didn't understand why, since she wasn't willing to say, he didn't want to ask too much.

But after hanging up, Zhao Fusheng immediately dialed Jiang Wen. What a joke, of course he had to find the one who had truly sold him out.

Jiang Wen had an interesting personality. When making movies, he was like a madman, willing to spend all the investors' money and still find it insufficient. In short, Jiang Wen had a habit of pursuing perfection in filmmaking and was absolutely unreasonable during shooting.

But in daily life, he was instead a person who enjoyed chatting about many things.

Such a person had another name: a chatterbox.

At first, Zhao Fusheng hadn't noticed this habit. They had a pleasant chat when he called to wish him a happy new year, but later, a phone call lasted nearly two hours, covering everything from the development of Chinese cinema in the past decade to the rise and fall of Hong Kong films, and whether movies should faithfully reflect history. Only then did Zhao Fusheng realize he had inadvertently opened Pandora's box.

Finally, he barely managed to find an opportunity, using the excuse that his phone battery was dead, to escape Teacher Jiang Wen's clutches. But after that, whenever Zhao Fusheng communicated with Jiang Wen, he tried to use text messages.

This time, however, he had no good choice and had to make this call.

The phone rang for a long time, but no one answered. Zhao Fusheng blinked, calculating the time. That guy Jiang Wen couldn't still be sleeping at this hour, could he?

After several minutes, the phone still went unanswered. He hung up helplessly, frowning. He felt something was off, but couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong. This feeling was very unpleasant, making him particularly uncomfortable.

It was as if, out of the blue, a beautiful woman suddenly stood before you and said she wanted to pursue you, but you had no idea why she wanted to pursue you, completely unable to see the point.

In fact, if the caller hadn't claimed to be Yu Feihong and said she was introduced by Jiang Wen, Zhao Fusheng would have thought it was some bored person playing a prank.

But facts were facts. That woman known as the intellectual goddess was driving to the airport, crossing thousands of kilometers to come to him.

That year, Zhao Fusheng was 22, and Yu Feihong was 29.