Chapter 31 – Meeting
With that laugh, Chen Bai successfully brushed the issue aside.
Zhou Jing never would have thought that after graduating from university, he’d end up retaking a class.
Contrary to his expectations, Chen Bai’s course choices were very practical.
There was only one chair, so the two of them sat on the bed. Zhou Jing, with a notebook on his lap, initially didn’t know what to write, but soon enough, without needing any reminders, he was jotting down notes.
He even realized that some of the things the director had mentioned during filming were connected to what they were learning. What had once seemed abstract was actually a result of Zhou Jing’s limited understanding—he couldn’t grasp the techniques the director was trying to teach.
Chen Bai, twirling his pen as was his habit, said, “Tomorrow, when sister Lin is filming, you should watch closely. She uses these techniques a lot.”
Sister Lin was what they called the actress playing the female lead, a classically trained actress.
Zhou Jing agreed.
The class lasted more than two hours, without any fluff. They studied until 2 a.m. before finally calling it a night.
At 2 a.m., with their brains fried from the intense learning session, they had no energy left to talk about anything else. Zhou Jing, like before, fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow—something he hadn’t done in days.
The next day, when filming resumed, the crew noticed that the previously exhausted-looking male lead now looked even more tired and worn out.
Chen Bai, who always had low blood pressure in the morning, was sluggish too. He took a quick nap while getting his hair done and then, after breakfast, was back to his usual energetic self—a stark contrast to the weary male lead.
Before filming started, during a rare moment when no one was around, Zhou Jing couldn’t help but ask, “How do you manage to be so energetic after only sleeping at 2 a.m.?”
Chen Bai replied, “Isn’t 2 a.m. considered an early night?”
Zhou Jing: “…?”
For a moment, the big star had no words.
He felt like there was a gap in their understanding of the world.
The agent, also looking exhausted, floated over during a break to hand Chen Bai a bottle of water and several resumes. She sat down with vacant eyes and said, “Once we find you an assistant, I’m going to sleep for three days straight.”
Chen Bai glanced at the resumes, mentally supporting her ambitious plan.
Since joining the crew, the agent had been trying to hire an assistant for Chen Bai. He had no specific requirements, but his money-making companion was never satisfied with any candidates, and so far, they hadn’t found one. The agent was also hesitant to assign a temporary assistant, so she’d been incredibly busy these past few days.
Before her seat even warmed, the agent received a call and left again.
That day, Zhou Jing once again endured the director’s scolding.
One night of studying wasn’t enough to create a miracle; he still had to take the criticism.
The only bright spot was that today, the director at least complimented their scene flow, and progress was slightly better than usual.
After filming wrapped that night, Zhou Jing showed up at Chen Bai’s door at the usual time.
This time, Chen Bai wasn’t wearing his usual 39.9-yuan classic outfit. Instead, he wore a light blue shirt gifted by EV, which, though a bit wrinkled, still looked good and matched his pink hair.
With a towel on his head, he casually dried his hair while letting Zhou Jing into the room.
Tonight wasn’t about rehearsing lines—just studying. They got right into it after sitting on the bed.
During a short ten-minute break, Chen Bai took out his phone to chat with his pinned contact. It was then that Zhou Jing realized it had been a while since he last touched his own phone.
Chen Bai finished his daily chat with his good neighbor, checked the schedule for the next day, and turned to Zhou Jing. “Tomorrow, you’ll have to study on your own. I have something to do in the evening.”
Zhou Jing paused for a moment, gripping his pen, and then didn’t ask any further questions. He simply said, “Okay.”
Chen Bai was going to livestream tomorrow. The next day mainly featured the male and female leads’ scenes, and Chen Bai’s part would finish in the daytime, giving him a long stretch of time in the evening, perfect for a livestream.
If he didn’t stream soon, his streaming hours would likely become dangerously low.
Or rather, they were already pretty risky.
After a long silence, his zombie-like account finally stirred after being inactive for a while.
[Tomorrow night at 9 o’clock, come play for two bits! [Image]]
Accompanied by a yellow soybean emoji holding a rose.
Fans collected screenshots while expressing their discontent, waiting for tomorrow night.
The following evening, Qingshou started the stream two hours early. Since they had been playing together for a while, his fans and Chen Bai’s fans had practically merged. As it got closer to 9 o’clock, the fans in the livestream room grew visibly anxious.
Approaching 9 o’clock, he didn’t start a new game. He stepped away from the keyboard, grabbed his phone from the side, and said, “Don’t rush; I’ll check on it for you.”
He sent a message, and the person on the other end replied quickly, saying they had just finished washing their hair and were booting up the computer.
He relayed the message truthfully.
Chen Bai took a full five minutes to boot up their computers, taking longer than 99% of people in the country.
At precisely 9 o’clock, the stream began. As soon as it started, a flood of users poured in, and gift notifications popped up continuously, causing the livestream to lag briefly before returning to normal.
It had been a while since Chen Bai streamed, so he remembered to greet everyone. “Good evening, friends.”
The friends seemed very excited.
[How many days has it been! Do you know how we’ve been living for so many days!?]
[Not good at all, boohoo, Chen Erbai, how could you not stream for so long?]
[Yay, new skin! Haven’t seen you in a while; Chen Er Bai, you seem to have gotten more handsome (?)]
[I’m so silly, really thought Erbai opened Weibo to notify us about additional streams every day, turns out it was just to tell us when he’d go live QAQ]
The “new skin” referred to the light blue shirt.
Not understanding how an article of clothing could determine handsomeness, Chen Bai glanced down and was about to say something.
[No need to introduce the 39.9 again, Er Bai (eyes wide)]
[I can guess what you’re going to say, but don’t say it yet]
[Fashionable neighbor, please save this 39.9 brain]
“…”
Chen Bai swallowed the words he was about to say and focused intently on the game.
Having not played in a while, he was a bit rusty, but it wasn’t a big deal. After a couple of rounds, he regained his rhythm and started playing the beloved baiting mini-game.
[Boohoo, I’ve never missed the bait mini-game this much]
[Hahaha, this is it]
[It’s definitely more fun playing together with you two]
While glancing at the bullet comments and the screen, he was also chatting with his friend. As he dodged a surprise attack, Chen Bai heard his friend say, “I’m coming to City A tomorrow.”
He lifted his eyes slightly and asked, “When?”
His friend replied it would be tomorrow, as they had some business to attend to in that area.
Since they were still live, he didn’t elaborate on what the business was, but Chen Bai could guess it was work-related.
It was indeed quite recent and a bit too close for comfort. Chen Bai sighed, “I’m working tomorrow, or we could have met up.”
They missed out on an opportunity to meet up due to a work commitment.
[Erbai, you really can’t finish your work, I’m crying]
[No way! We need to meet up at least once! We haven’t seen you two together yet]
[We haven’t seen Erbai in a single frame yet x]
[Can’t forget to mention the only one who’s seen Erbai is Qingjie]
[I also applied for your piano gig, Er Bai, look at me!]
While scrolling through the comments, Chen Bai said, “Sorry, my work schedule is full lately, so I’m not taking on any more orders for now.”
The comments were filled with lamentations.
With an early start the next day, his friend logged off right on time at midnight. Chen Bai found another old friend to continue playing and streamed until 2 a.m.
The next day, the weather matched the forecast—a rare good day following the rain. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was already bright.
The pleasant weather was perfect for outdoor filming, and the organized outdoor shoot went on as planned.
It was Saturday, coinciding with a holiday, so there were more visitors at the base than usual. As soon as they left the hotel, they were met with a barrage of phone cameras.
The male and female leads walked in front, with the assistant leading the way. Chen Bai trailed behind, half-awake, sipping soy milk while walking forward, effortlessly getting into the car.
The drive from the hotel to the filming location took just a few minutes.
Upon arrival, Chen Bai, still sipping his soy milk, quickly spotted his male-third friend.
Unlike usual, his friend wasn’t busy surfing the internet or looking at the script. Instead, he was sitting in the hallway, nervously watching the horses that the crew had brought in for filming.
Concerned for his friend, Chen Bai sat down next to him and offered some friendly comfort, finally recalling that his friend had a horseback riding scene today.
Though a playboy who loved to have fun, he had learned the necessary skills, including horseback riding and archery.
He remembered his friend didn’t know how to shoot arrows but was expected to ride.
The male third friend covered his face: “All I know is how to get on and off the horse, and that was years ago.”
His mistake was telling the director that he knew some basics when asked if he could ride.
Now the director wanted him to get on a horse and trot a few steps.
Chen Bai chuckled, “The ones who should be worried are Zhou Jing and me.”
This scene involved a playboy recklessly riding a horse down the street and nearly crashing into the male lead and Chen Bai, who played the male lead’s friend A. If they didn’t stop in time, Zhou Jing and he would be in trouble.
Recklessly charging involved a higher level of skill than his friend was responsible for; his friend only had to handle the scene where the horse would be reined in at the last moment.
Fortunately, the coordinator didn’t plan on doing anything so thrilling early in the morning. This scene was scheduled for the afternoon, so his friend spent the entire morning practicing horseback riding in a less crowded area. Once the equestrian instructor arrived, they would leave.
The first scene was the confrontation between the male and female leads. Since it didn’t involve him, Chen Bai didn’t squat and observe like usual. Instead, he spent some time looking at the horses before the equestrian instructor arrived, and after getting permission, he touched a couple of them.
The assistant director was filming the male and female leads, while the director was busy discussing script revisions with the resident screenwriter, exchanging heated arguments.
Finally, the resident screenwriter pointed at his thinning hair and questioned the director’s intentions.
The director tactfully sipped his tea, shifting his gaze until he spotted someone standing by the horse.
Si Yang was at least a prince, with more than one outfit. The previous dark blue robe had been changed to a white robe with red edges, wide sleeves and narrow cuffs, over which he wore a golden-threaded crane cloak. Dressed in white and riding a fine horse, he looked quite pleasing to the eye.
The assistant photographer snapped a picture of him, and the director momentarily abandoned his confrontation with the resident screenwriter to chat with Si Yang.
There might have been a hint of avoidance regarding the resident editor’s sparse hair, but it wasn’t obvious.
In any case, he changed his position and stood next to the person in white, glancing a couple of times at their hand gently stroking the horse’s head, and asked, “Can you ride?”
Chen Bai turned his head and replied that he could.
The director’s eyes lit up, clearly starting to think about something, and asked, “Can you get on the horse and run a couple of laps?”
“I can.”
Chen Bai’s gaze moved past the director’s hat, landing on the resident screenwriter who was intensely watching them, objectively stating, “If you want to revise the script, the screenwriter is looking this way and seems like he wants to cut someone.”
He thought the one the screenwriter wanted to cut wasn’t him, but the director who constantly changed the script.
The director shivered and then whispered, “Don’t worry; I’m old friends with him. Just do your thing; I’ll figure out a way.”
Chen Bai thought the director’s attempt at lowering his voice didn’t look like someone who wasn’t worried, but he kindly chose not to point that out.
The director continued, “This afternoon, after that horseback scene is done, I’ll need to borrow a bit of your break time to try out the effect on horseback.”
Chen Bai met the resident screenwriter’s intense gaze fixed on the director’s back and replied, “Okay.”
*
Li Qingzhou came to City A to sign a commercial contract. He arrived at the company in the morning, and by noon, he had finished signing.
He had initially planned to leave right after signing, but this time, his sister had come with him.
Sister Li didn’t wait for him to sign the contract for nothing; she wasn’t simply accompanying her dear brother on a fresh trip to a new city.
Sister Li was a devoted fan of Zhou Jing, with six years of fandom under her belt. She learned online that he was filming in a film city on the outskirts of City A and had long been planning to come, and today she finally found the opportunity.
She brought a backpack, a water bottle, and an umbrella; the journey was too long. If she had to carry everything herself, she’d probably collapse from exhaustion by the time they arrived.
This was when having a good brother really paid off.
In exchange for three days of not helping her with flower deliveries, she hired her own personal porter.
With traffic jammed in the city, they switched from the subway to the bus. After escaping the congested downtown, they took a taxi to the film city.
After standing for a long time, they finally got to sit down. Once Sister Li got in the car, she immediately took out her phone to keep an eye on the latest updates and avoid missing out.
Fortunately, the latest news came in: the crew hadn’t left and were still shooting outdoor scenes, with both the male and female leads present.
After taking a closer look at the latest update, she turned to the person sitting next to her and said, “The Chen Bai you like is here too. He seems to be around.”
She then added, “Still here for now.”
Li Qingzhou slightly turned his gaze.
By the time they arrived, the afternoon was already half gone. The sun wasn’t as intense as before, and the sky had darkened a bit.
The filming crew for ‘Ask Fate’ was easy to find, located at a well-known scenic spot. There were many people around; some were walking back after watching, while others were still on their way to observe, filling the area with crowds.
Sister Li, being shorter, could only see overlapping heads in the crowd and had to jump a bit to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside.
It seemed that they weren’t currently filming inside; the crowd was quietly chatting, and the crew members carrying cameras appeared to be in discussions.
Li Qingzhou was tall enough to easily see over the crowd.
He noticed someone leading a horse by, and sitting on a stone pier by the corridor was a person who looked startled, wiping their face in apparent fright.
He didn’t recognize them, nor were they the star his sister liked.
The startled individual wiped the sweat from their face and neck, stood up from the stone pier, walked onto the corridor, and raised their hand to say something to someone.
It was then that Li Qingzhou noticed another person behind the red and black pillars of the corridor.
The person greeted him, leaning slightly forward, revealing their face as they stepped out from behind the pillar.
A face clearly marked by a smile appeared above a wide robe woven with cloud patterns in white and red.
The person was laughing, and their amusement was infectious; something amusing must have happened, as their wide robe couldn’t conceal their laughter.
Chen Bai was laughing at his little third-male lead friend.
The previous scene was the horseback riding scene that had worried his third-male lead friend all day. Objectively speaking, it turned out quite well and was filmed in one take, with the footage in the camera looking perfectly normal and entirely as expected.
But only the footage in the camera was normal.
In reality, when the horse’s hooves kicked up and charged towards him and Zhou Jing, even from a distance, he could see the visible panic and contorted features on his third-male lead friend’s face.
Chen Bai was well-mannered; he could hold back laughter when it happened to other actors, but if it involved his little third-male lead friend, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
After all, when his third-male lead friend had mistaken in a previous scene, Chen Bai had laughed heartily.
The third-male lead friend had anticipated Chen Bai would react this way and covered his face, pretending not to see.
Fortunately, the crew prohibited the crowd from taking photos, and luckily, the only ones he faced at that moment were Zhou Jing and this person who couldn’t stop laughing in front of him.
If either of those conditions had been absent, he would have climbed out of bed at midnight to use his toes to build a castle.
Fortunately, the person next to him didn’t laugh for long before the director pulled him away.
The horse was borrowed, and it needed to be returned after use, so the sooner it was returned, the better. As long as they could disperse the crowd a bit, the other side of the street was long and wide enough for a horse to run a lap. The director acted quickly, instructing security to move the crowd back a bit.
Taking the reins from the equestrian instructor, Chen Bai stroked the horse’s cheek while stealing a few glances at the instructor, who looked quite affluent. He exerted his utmost restraint and self-discipline to suppress the urge to ask about the instructor’s salary.
Before mounting the horse, the instructor asked him, “Are you good to go?”
This question had no ulterior motives; it was simply a habitual safety inquiry.
“I can manage,” Chen Bai replied, stroking the horse’s neck after finishing with its cheek. “It’s just that I haven’t practiced in a few years, so I might not be too familiar.”
He assured the instructor that he could start riding without any issues and wouldn’t lose control and run into anyone, but his movements might not be as polished, and the director might find the level of performance lacking in visual appeal.
Hearing some key words from a distance and realizing that this person would also try riding, the third-male lead, who had been resting on the corridor, put away his phone and script, squatting down to watch the show, preparing to laugh at any mistakes he made.
After receiving a confirmation, the equestrian instructor released the reins and stepped aside to clear the way.
The person holding the reins casually pushed back the stray hairs that fell in front of him, lifted the layers of his robe, braced himself against the saddle, and with one foot on the stirrup, effortlessly mounted the horse.
The layered robe swept through the air with a whoosh, and the onlookers barely had time to register what was happening before he had securely settled in the saddle, one hand gripping the reins, his back straight like a pine tree.
“…”
The horse hadn’t taken off yet, but the third-male lead, who was squatting on the ground, sensed something was off and had started to go silent.
He vaguely felt like he had been tricked.
The sound of hooves striking the ground echoed, gradually quickening. The previously drooping brown mane swept through the air, and the person on the horse’s white robe billowed as their long black hair flew back with the wind, intertwining with the robe in stark contrast.
This speed was indeed a bit too fast. The crowd of onlookers gasped, and even those in a safe zone felt a tightening in their chests, instinctively stepping back without needing security to shout at them.
Some people didn’t step back. A circle of space opened up around the person at the center, making him look quite conspicuous.
The horse galloped to the end of the street, where its speed was restricted, turned in a circle, and then was controlled to run back, its hooves raised high before landing steadily.
With the reins in hand, Chen Bai had originally been looking straight ahead. However, he seemed to notice something and turned his head to the side, spotting a young man standing in the surrounding cleared space.
The other person was staring at him, their gaze unwavering and direct.
Objectively speaking, he was quite a good-looking guy, with thick brows, large eyes, and a high nose, dressed in a neat and refreshing manner.
It felt like he had seen him somewhere before.
Fuzzy images flashed in his mind from a long time ago, finally fixing on a time when he had seen someone in a flower shop apron by the beach.
He remembered. The person on the horse pulled on the reins, his light gray pupils lowered, reflecting the figure of the person standing there. “You’re the one who delivered flowers last time!”
The raised hooves were close by, and Chen Bai’s white robe blocked his line of sight for a moment as Li Qingzhou stood in place, his pupils slightly widening.
Just like last time when he had turned around halfway, this person turned back again before leaving.
Surprisingly, the other person even remembered him.
Watching the hooves continuously striking the ground, Chen Bai nodded and said, “Yes.”
His throat felt a bit dry, and only after speaking did he realize that his voice sounded somewhat different than usual.
The person on the horse likely took him for a tourist just visiting, waved, and smiled, “Have fun.”
After saying that, he rode away, the wind generated brushing past and stirring Chen Bai’s hair.
The previously scattered crowd returned, and the area instantly became noisy. Amidst the rising chatter, Li Qingzhou vaguely heard someone say that if they had known, they wouldn’t have stepped back and might have been able to strike up a conversation.
But there’s no such thing as “if only.” By the time they got close again, the person had already returned to their original position and skillfully dismounted.
The movement looked smooth and professional, showing no signs of someone who hadn’t ridden in years.
The equestrian instructor took the reins again and asked, “Have you practiced before?”
The person who had just dismounted smiled and said, “I used to work at a riding school.”
The third-male lead had been squatting there for a long time, but his excitement gradually faded into a blank stare as he watched the smiling person, not continuing that topic. Instead, he asked, “Who were you greeting just now?”
“Just a tourist, I think,” Chen Bai replied. “We’ve had some interactions before and met once.”
He then ruffled his hair and added, “I think I’ve seen him in other places too.”
*
Author Note:
The mind of a diode is really something!
