Chapter 54: Preparations

Over the next few days, Ling Ziheng focused intently on training in the studio, while Lin Zhiwei went to great lengths, using every means at her disposal, to invite several teachers from the station—experts in dance, vocal performance, and stage effects—to come to the studio for in-depth discussions.

The teachers, charmed and amused by her efforts, were all the more dedicated since they were designing a stage for the film emperor himself. Each was secretly relieved to have been assigned to Ling Ruoyu’s group rather than having to deal with Chu Chuo or Ye Linyun, which would have been much more taxing.

Lin Zhiwei, along with Xiaoyu, Mei Ning, and Zhao Lei, was busier than ever.

“Everyone, for this initial performance, I want to try something different. Since it’s a masked show, I hope that when the fans in the audience and viewers online can’t tell who Ruoyu is, they’ll be dazzled by what they see,” Lin Zhiwei said, manuscript in hand, leaning against the conference table. Her expression was serious, but the clever playfulness in her eyes could not be concealed.

“I agree,” Mei Ning raised her hand; she’d been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever.

Xiaoyu and Zhao Lei nodded in agreement, as did the teachers, though a hint of concern crossed their faces. They were fine with “different,” but worried—what if the film emperor didn’t approve?

“Ruoyu has seen my designs and has no objections,” Lin Zhiwei quickly reassured them, sensing their hesitation. Ling Ziheng was actually easy to work with—were they just too intimidated by his reputation?

“Great, then let me elaborate. This piece is an old song, even a classic. It’s a win-win: the audience will be able to engage deeply thanks to the familiar melody, while our creative and visual innovations will strike them with a double impact,” Lin Zhiwei said, scanning the room with complete confidence.

“So I’ll need your help for the opening. Ruoyu will enter with a violin, playing the prelude accompanied by guitar and drums. The lighting should be dim, casting a single beam for a hazy, dreamlike effect,” she said, turning to Mr. Zhu, the stage effects teacher.

Mr. Zhu’s eyes lit up, and he immediately nodded in agreement—what a striking entrance, sure to grab the audience’s attention in an instant.

Lin Zhiwei continued, “Next, for the changes: the singing style will remain almost identical to the original, perhaps transposed to better suit Ruoyu’s range. The musical style will lean more toward tropical house, blending in the mellow passion of electronic dance music.”

Mr. Li, the vocal coach, signaled an OK with his hand. It was a unique innovation; the adaptation didn’t change much of the old song, but thinking about the sparks flying from this collision of old and new made his heart race with excitement.

“Thank you. Finally, for the dance portion: my idea is to insert a short interaction with a female dancer—a little vignette, about thirty seconds long. No extra dance moves beyond that, so the performance doesn’t become too cumbersome,” Lin Zhiwei said.

“Excellent, excellent. I was just worried the choreography would be tough, since it’s not really suited to group dance,” said Mr. Ren, the dance teacher, his brow relaxing as he clapped his hands in approval.

The three teachers exchanged glances of admiration. For someone so young, Director Lin had such a wealth of stage experience and understood her idol’s strengths so thoroughly—she was truly remarkable.

“If there are no objections, I’ll leave the next steps to the three of you. We’ll proceed according to this schedule, avoiding any overlap in your time and aiming for the highest efficiency in the shortest time. I look forward to a successful collaboration,” Lin Zhiwei said calmly, distributing the rehearsal schedules, every detail clearly mapped out in her mind.

“We’ll follow Director Lin’s plan—no issues at all,” the three teachers responded together.

After seeing the teachers off, Lin Zhiwei finally let out a breath of relief and turned to Mei Ning. “Mei Ning and Xiaoyu, start preparing and tracking costumes, makeup, and props.”

“Yes, sir,” Mei Ning replied playfully. “Any requirements for color coordination?”

“Dark blue and white striped shirt, paired with a choker and black pants. Build on that style,” Lin Zhiwei answered without hesitation.

“Wow, simple and cool,” Mei Ning nodded.

“Director Lin really knows how to dress the boss—there’s a kind of effortless elegance to it,” Xiaoyu said admiringly, her eyes sparkling. Lin-ge is just too stylish!

“Lei-ge, I’ll need you to coordinate with the media and the TV station’s scheduling,” Lin Zhiwei continued.

“No problem,” Zhao Lei replied, arms folded and looking completely at ease.

As the four divided up their tasks, Ling Ziheng strode into the meeting room, newly styled and positively radiant. Lin Zhiwei couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at him before burying her head in her paperwork, reminding herself: Get used to it. This is work, just work!

Ling Ziheng had already noticed the little one’s guilty expression from afar and couldn’t help but curl his lips in amusement. Looks did have their uses, after all.

“Boss, we’ve finished discussing everything,” Mei Ning reported, as eager to please as ever.

Ling Ziheng sat down beside Lin Zhiwei, his tone calm. “You all can leave now. I’d like to speak with Director Lin alone.”

The others nodded and filed out. Pei Xi cast a lingering look at Lin Zhiwei before shifting his attention back to his young master, a knowing expression on his face.

“Vivi, I’ve reviewed your plan. No issues,” Ling Ziheng said, looking at her.

“Oh… good, that’s good,” Lin Zhiwei replied, head down, nearly biting her tongue. Why was she so nervous? She’d seen that face plenty of times before.

Ling Ziheng frowned and leaned in closer. “Why won’t you look at me?”

Because you’re too handsome, and I’m afraid I’ll lose myself.

Lin Zhiwei’s heart was pounding as she forced a wry smile. “Boss, it must be that you’re so stunning I was caught off guard for a moment.”

“Heh,” Ling Ziheng leaned back and let out a quiet chuckle.

To Lin Zhiwei, that soft laugh was like a spring breeze, warming her to her core and bringing a flush to her cheeks.

Why did the atmosphere in this meeting room feel so strange… and why was it suddenly so hot?

If I reach up to unbutton my shirt right now… would that be a misunderstanding? Ahem, Ling Ziheng, what exactly are you laughing at?

I really can’t tell if you’re flirting or teasing me…

Cursing Ling Ziheng inwardly, Lin Zhiwei maintained a calm exterior, wishing for anything or anyone to break this awkward silence.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

Thank goodness! Whoever it is—even if it’s a spam call—I’m grateful.

She answered quickly, “Hello?”

“Moshi moshi, Xiao Linzi, I’m here! Wow, the hotel you booked for me is great—and you even got me milk tea! I’m so touched,” came Nan Yu’s flamboyant voice on the other end. Instantly, Lin Zhiwei no longer cared about the awkward atmosphere in the room.

“You’re days late… if you weren’t so valuable to me, I’d break your legs right now,” Lin Zhiwei gritted out. She’d said she’d only have to wait a day or two, but it had stretched on for days. Where on earth had this idiot been wandering?

“Calm down, boss! I brought precious materials, delivered with both hands—I wasn’t out playing, I swear!”