Thirteen years later.
America, San Francisco.
Around the end of the year, all kinds of red carpets seem to stretch endlessly.
Ling Maimai sat in the car, glancing at her flawless face in the mirror while replying to a text message on her phone, feeling annoyed by her manager's chatter beside her.
"Stop talking in my ear all the time. I've rushed to three red carpets in a row, haven't slept for more than an hour in 39 hours, and I'm still growing, you know? Why do you want me to attend every red carpet event? Do I need to walk the red carpet for more exposure? Look, look, there's news on Weibo that someone else died from overwork, and at this rate, I'm going to follow in their footsteps!"
