Tan You watched the middle-aged director leaning over Chen Jiao's lounge chair, his butt sticking out, his eyes fixed on the script like searchlights.
The Beauty System floated beside Tan You's head. "Host, he's hooked."
"Of course he's hooked," Tan You said with a slight smile. But she looked down on this director. Putting everything else aside, just the web of karmic threads covering his body was enough to make her eyes ache.
Win, dine, whore, and gamble—Director Zhanng Ping indulged in all of it, stopping just short of drugs. Never mind that the man had little talent to speak of; even if he were a genius, Tan You would never let her script fall into the hands of someone like him. It would only taint her work.
Tan You hadn't decided on a director yet, but what was the rush? With Chen Jiao's current acting skills, she wasn't ready to carry a production of this caliber. So, others could be anxious; Tan You remained perfectly calm.
