Chapter 125: The Existence of a Bug

“Is that so?” Sang Zheng no longer clearly remembered, but he had the impression that Sang Yijia had indeed won the national composition competition. “But your mother just said you didn’t like writing compositions before.”

Sang Zheng scratched the back of his head, not thinking that both his wife and daughter were mistaken.

“It must be you, Mom and Dad, who are mistaken,” Sang Yijia answered calmly.

Sang Zheng hummed in agreement, “That’s also possible.”

Seeing that he believed her, Sang Yijia quietly exhaled in relief. Then she thought of a problem: during her coma, she had reviewed several previous times when she had transmigrated into books, but this time her awakening was delayed. Some events had already happened once, which could cause confusion in the memories of the characters in the book, so she shouldn’t mention past events too often.

If she brought them up repeatedly, she worried something might go wrong.

“Dad, I’m going back to finish writing this story,” Sang Yijia said, holding her laptop.

Sang Zheng responded with a “Okay,” “Don’t just sit in your room all the time. Remember to get some fresh air, and don’t stare at the computer too much—it’ll affect your eyesight.”

“Mm, I will,” Sang Yijia promised quickly.

Sang Zheng knew she wouldn’t really remember, so he planned to come back and knock again later.

After Sang Yijia returned to her room and closed the door, the tension in her raised shoulders suddenly relaxed. Her phone, left vibrating on the desk, kept buzzing.

Before writing, Sang Yijia had set her phone to vibrate, so someone must be calling now.

She picked up the phone and saw the caller was her agent, Mo Yani.

“What’s up?” Sang Yijia asked.

Mo Yani responded with a hum, then said, “Jiajia, have you rested well?”

“Yes, my health is pretty good now,” Sang Yijia didn’t lie. Since regaining her memories, her physical condition had greatly improved, possibly because she had been training at Sang Qiwu’s martial arts school every night for the past few days.

“Is this about work?” Sang Yijia knew Mo Yani had never wanted to give up the female supporting role in the film, and indeed, after the movie’s release, the entire cast had won awards.

Especially the leads—a Best Actor and Best Actress—and even the supporting roles received Best Supporting Actor awards.

From then on, most of the cast in “Asking Immortals” embarked on successful careers.

Mo Yani’s reluctance to let go was understandable, but Sang Yijia truly didn’t want any involvement or contact with the leads.

“Yeah,” Mo Yani didn’t deny it. “Jiajia, this movie is really good, the entire crew is top-notch.”

She earnestly persuaded her, “Plus, there’s investment from Shengchuang Technology; once it premieres, it will definitely be a hit.”

“But I don’t want to go,” Sang Yijia replied frankly. “The leads have already been announced, and where Shen Jin and Lan Qing are, I don’t want to be.”

Mo Yani was truly at a loss for words.

After a long silence, Mo Yani moved her lips slightly and finally sighed heavily. “Jiajia, the director has been pressing me for your response, and today is the last day.”

“If you miss this chance, there won’t be another,” Mo Yani tried to persuade once more. “If we participate this time, it might leverage the director’s influence, securing future film and TV roles.”

“Sorry,” Sang Yijia still refused.

Mo Yani sighed, “Okay, I understand.”

“But…” Mo Yani’s expression grew serious as she looked at the files on her desk. “Jiajia, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“You’ve taken too many leaves recently, and the company has noticed.”

“Soon, they might assign you some endorsements, maybe other variety shows, or even TV dramas and films. I’ll arrange your schedule to be light, but we can’t have you completely off.”

Before, even when Sang Yijia took leave, she remained active online—even if criticized, it still meant exposure.

But now, with her quiet absence, the company immediately took notice.

“Okay, I understand,” Sang Yijia thought she had been hoping for too much to avoid work.

“If there’s a script, send it to me,” she added. She remembered Bian He had mentioned investing in a small web drama that was still casting.

“Is there a web drama on Bian He’s side?” Sang Yijia thought for a moment. If she recalled correctly, the small web drama hadn’t made much impact before—it might be perfect for taking it easy.

Mo Yani paused, “Seems like there is.”

“Do you want to take it?”

“Just a favor,” Sang Yijia said.

Mo Yani hummed, “Okay, I’ll contact them.”

“You’ll have an answer by tomorrow at the latest.”

“Alright,” Sang Yijia agreed.

After the call ended, Sang Yijia looked down at her WeChat. Yan Ningsi had sent many messages, mostly complaining about Bian He’s procrastination, saying she was responsible for the web drama’s music alone, and it even had to be original compositions.

Yan Ningsi was furious, regretting ever agreeing.

Sang Yijia smiled faintly at the messages and tapped out a reply.

Yan Ningsi’s phone was probably nearby; she replied instantly.

“Jiajia, has Lu Ge asked you out recently?”

Sang Yijia was taken aback, recalling a message from Lu Wenchuan a few days ago. Her lips pressed together slightly.

“No, Lu Wenchuan and I aren’t what you all think.”

After days of reflection, Sang Yijia felt that Lu Wenchuan’s strong affirmation of her was because the memory from ten years ago hadn’t been erased.

“Alright, maybe I’m overthinking.”

“That dumb mule Bian He is bugging me again about the opening theme. I really give up.”

“I’ll get busy now; let’s eat together when we have time.”

Sang Yijia fell silent, staring at Yan Ningsi’s messages. This part wasn’t in the original plot. Would this small web drama really continue to have no impact at all?

She fell into deep thought.

—

“Mr. Lu,” the secretary entered with files. “These are the materials for the romance reality show.”

“Put them aside,” Lu Wenchuan said without looking up, still reading other documents.

The secretary hesitated, “The production team wants you to replace Miss Sang.”

“Should I agree?” she asked.

Lu Wenchuan finally raised his head, his dark eyes deep. “Whose idea is this?”

“It’s from Lan Qing’s side. They apparently don’t want to be tied to Shen Jin anymore,” the secretary replied.

Lu Wenchuan smiled faintly on one side of his lips. “Does her wish mean it should be arranged?”

“Tell the production team to keep Lan Qing and Shen Jin paired.”

The secretary understood. “What about Miss Sang?”

“The same as before,” Lu Wenchuan thought for a moment, then added, “Find Sang Yijia’s schedule.”

The secretary’s mouth twitched. “Understood, Mr. Lu.”

(End of chapter)