Who Needs a CEO? I Choose Stardom

Back when Ni Bingyan was still a nobody struggling from the bottom up, she was incredibly envious of her peers who were heavily promoted by major corporations.

When she heard people call them ”the pampered daughters of some filthy rich patron” behind their backs, she thought it was a perfect fit.

These patrons had endless money to burn. They could casually fund a few shows, and their ”pampered daughters” would be busy from one end of the year to the other. If one of them had a bad temper or their schedule was too tight, they might throw a diva fit and refuse to work, demanding to be coddled before they’d deign to film properly. They treated these opportunities, which others would kill for, as if they were nothing.

These patrons had a bottomless library of scripts. Any one they pulled out would either be a massive IP with a built-in fanbase or the work of a renowned screenwriter. The moment a project was greenlit, the auditions would be over before a nobody like her even heard about it. Sometimes, the cast list was already finalized.

These patrons also had professional teams and extensive connections. Their actors never had to grovel or join random, ragtag crews; they could just form their own in-house teams and get straight to work.

And if all else failed, they had A-list seniors from their own company to give them a boost.

Riding the coattails of a senior from their own company wouldn’t ruffle any feathers. A kind-hearted senior might even take them under their wing. But if some unaffiliated rookie from the outside tried to pounce on that fame? Who would dare?

That wouldn’t be seen as two starlets being friendly.

That would be a hit-and-run.

As for a nobody like her—not formally trained, not a graduate of a prestigious acting academy, with looks that weren’t exactly top-tier and no connections to rely on—it was nearly impossible to sign with a good agency.

They usually started out by latching onto capable extras coordinators, beginning as background actors. Without some kind of heaven-defying luck, they could spend their entire lives playing nothing but minor supporting roles.

For someone like Ni Bingyan in her past life to land the role of second female lead in a web series by her thirties was a testament not just to her luck, but also to her relentless hard work and talent.

She never imagined that one day, she’d become one of those ”filthy rich patrons’” treasured Little Fairies. ’Heh~’

In the past, she would have fought tooth and nail for the tiniest scraps left behind by those patrons.

Now, a prime cut of meat was set right before her, and she was being offered the first bite. Happiness had come so suddenly that she almost couldn’t bring herself to take it.

”Sister Wei, which one do you think I should choose?”

Ni Bingyan slowly scrolled with the mouse wheel, pointing at the computer screen to ask for Wei Shuojie’s opinion.

She wasn’t an indecisive person, but these four scripts were all gems that had been carefully hand-picked. Wei Shuojie told her to choose for herself, but she wasn’t foolish enough to actually make the decision all on her own.

Wei Shuojie could see her dilemma and understood her subtle gesture, finding it rather amusing.

”These have all been assessed by a professional team. They’re all excellent films with award-winning potential. The four production teams are all top-notch, and you haven’t had a bad experience with any of the directors. From my perspective, any choice is a good one. The reason I’m letting you decide is so you can pick something you’ll enjoy. That way, filming will be more engaging and less of a chore. Don’t feel pressured.”

”After all, spending long periods on set, shooting scene after scene, grinding out take after take—it can really take a toll on your mental state. Your performance will be much better if you’re filming a project you love versus one you hate.”

”The same amount of effort can produce completely different results depending on your mindset.”

”Sometimes, that tiny difference is what wins you an award.”

Understanding what Wei Shuojie meant, Ni Bingyan couldn’t help but marvel.

’In her past life, how could she have ever dreamed of such a good life?’

’This is the textbook definition of how a filthy rich patron operates! And she loved it!’

’Not only did she get to take huge bites of the best meat, but they were even considerate of her feelings, letting her choose her favorite cut so it wouldn’t get annoyingly stuck in her teeth later.’

’It was truly moving!’

”I’ll take another look, then.”

’This was a rare opportunity. She couldn’t just rush into a decision because there were three other people waiting for the leftovers, could she?’

’They might have been ahead in the competition before, but now, they would just have to wait patiently for her!’

She hadn’t even realized it herself, but with each successive victory, her confidence had grown. Now, a subtle, commanding aura was beginning to form around her—the kind that silently asked, ”If not me, then who?”

This time, Ni Bingyan examined the scripts very carefully.

The first was a social-ethical drama about human trafficking, specifically the abduction of women.

The female protagonist, a recent college graduate, is on a solo graduation trip. She’s abducted by human traffickers while hitchhiking and sold to a remote mountain village filled with bachelors.

Most of the women in the village are numb, many of them victims just like her. This only strengthens her resolve to escape...

The plot was rather cliché: escape, get caught, escape again, get caught again. Through this endless cycle, she would be exposed to more of the dark underbelly of society before finally being rescued.