He might have seen him, but Chen Bai really couldn’t recall.
Before he could think it over any further, the director approached him and pulled him aside to discuss something.
The director squatted next to him and said, “Do you remember that Zhou Jing has a scene with you? He said you had the guts to send the doctor’s child out of the city in the rain the night before the police came to capture him?”
Chen Bai remembered.
He roughly understood the director’s intention.
That plot point only existed in a dialogue after the fact, used to reveal why the doctor’s daughter couldn’t be found on the day of the raid.
If it weren’t mentioned, no one would suspect the sickly and idle prince, who had no connections and didn’t meddle in politics.
The director wanted to visualize this piece of dialogue.
Visualizing meant filming the segment where the prince left the city on a rainy night. The director indeed meant this, and he briefly expressed his thoughts, having already decided on the angles and scenes to be used at the time.
He said, “I’ll have the costume team prepare for it. It seems like it’s going to rain next week; if it rains heavily, we’ll film then.”
Chen Bai nodded and then quietly reminded him, “The screenwriter is watching you.”
The director wiped his face.
After their conversation, the director went to discuss things with the on-site screenwriter, who had lost some hair.
Standing up, Chen Bai took one last look at the onlooking tourists outside the venue but didn’t see the person he had spotted earlier, so he withdrew his gaze.
Li Qingzhou had been pushed to the back by the crowd that surged forward.
On the contrary, Sister Li was pushed to the front row by the flow of people and finally saw Zhou Jing, the person she had long wanted to see. Before she had a chance to feel moved and shed tears, the crowd pushed her back again, returning her to the back row to stand next to her good little brother.
Being able to catch a glimpse of him, confirming that he indeed looked as handsome as in the photos, and getting to see a few more of the other actors satisfied her. By the time she returned to the back row, it felt like her whole body was buzzing with excitement.
She gave her good little brother a pat and declared earnestly, “I’ve decided that from now on, I will also like Chen Bai.”
Sister Li had been a fan of Zhou Jing for six years and was a staunch admirer of good looks.
She sighed dramatically, “If I had known that delivering flowers would make such an impression, I should have gone to deliver them myself.”
“…”
At this moment, her good little brother should have said something back, but he didn’t.
Finding it a bit strange, she turned to look at him and saw that he had lowered his head, one hand covering his face, with his ears turning slightly red.
After graduating for many years, he still looked like a pure-hearted college boy at times like this. Sister Li raised an eyebrow and said, “Why does your idol chasing seem like dating?”
The pure-hearted college boy finally spoke up, saying, “I’m not chasing stars…”
Sister Li conducted a professional assessment on the spot: “Got it, you’re a boyfriend fan.”
It wasn’t entirely correct, but it seemed to fit somewhat.
From a certain perspective, they were quite lucky today; they had just caught the last glimpse of the show. After watching for a while, the sky started to darken, and the crew began to move to another location to continue filming indoors, where they couldn’t see.
The night shoot stretched until dawn.
This time, there was no live broadcast, and the study group that had quietly collapsed was back online.
Once again, it was a familiar room, with a familiar bed and familiar computer.
Zhou Jing’s notes had visibly increased; it seemed he had learned more than just a little bit yesterday. He was catching up on content he hadn’t reviewed before. In terms of final progress, he was still on the same page with Chen Bai.
This was a highly practical class, and the actors teaching it didn’t just have lecture; they also demonstrated and used film clips as material. The clips included both positive and negative examples.
Common positive examples were the three-time Golden Award-winning best actor, with each selected segment already included in the new textbooks as classics.
The three-time Golden Award-winning best actor is, in simpler terms, Chen Bai’s good neighbor.
Seeing his good neighbor in an unexpected place, Chen Bai chose to quietly take a photo while seriously observing and overcoming the awkwardness of watching someone he knew perform.
Zhou Jing turned to him and asked why he suddenly wanted to take a photo.
Chen Bai answered honestly, “Just to show my friend.”
Zhou Jing asked, “Does your friend like Xu Sinian?”
After thinking briefly, Chen Bai felt the explanation would take too long to unravel, so he nodded and vaguely replied, “Sort of.”
With positive examples come negative ones; coincidentally, there were familiar faces among the negative examples.
Chen Bai glanced at the person on the computer, then back at Zhou Jing sitting beside him, repeatedly comparing the two.
“…”
Zhou Jing’s hand holding the pen stopped, his eyebrows twitching, silently rewind three second.
After three seconds, a light laugh came from beside him and quickly stifled.
Chen Bai explained, “I was born with a smiling lips.”
“…”
Zhou Jing wiped his face and said, “Just laugh if you want to.”
The person born with smiling lips didn’t hold back any longer, leaning back and bracing his hands on either side. The room was suddenly filled with a joyful atmosphere.
Finally finishing his laugh, Chen Bai exhaled deeply and gave a thumbs up, complimenting Zhou Jing’s improved mental resilience.
Previously, he had lost sleep over online reviews, but now he could accept that the instructor used him as a negative example, which was quite an impressive improvement.
Zhou Jing unconsciously pressed down on the pen in his hand, saying, “There’s no choice; I really don’t have the strength, so I have to endure both this and the criticism.”
“From a personal perspective, you don’t have to accept everything,” Chen Bai said, glancing at him. “Criticism is different from mindless insults.”
Some people analyze facts objectively, while others take the opportunity to vent their emotions. Once you enter this profession, you must be prepared to accept criticism, but that doesn’t mean you have to accept every outburst of emotion indiscriminately.
Zhou Jing paused, staring at the small tip of the pen for a moment, before turning his head and saying, “That makes sense.”
His brows relaxed, and he smiled, “You really are suited for this line of work.”
Chen Bai also smiled and said, “It’s just a summary of some previous work experience.”
Zhou Jing glanced sideways (roll his eyes).
Chen Bais work experience seemed to be more than just a little.
Studying until two in the morning, Chen Bai learned from the director the next day that the script had been revised, and the coordinator also chimed in, saying that if it rained heavily, they’d schedule to film his segment then.
It was incredibly efficient, making the screenwriter’s hair fall out.
The on-site screenwriter was well-paid, but it also meant that their hair was at high risk.
This time, the weather forecast, which was usually inaccurate, turned out to be correct. A week later, the heavy rain fell on time; the sky had already darkened during the day, and by the afternoon, it began to drizzle before turning into a downpour by nightfall.
The costume team indeed managed to whip up a cloak in such a short time. The fabric was thick and textured but not waterproof.
That night, the crew split into two teams: one for outdoor scenes and another for indoor scenes.
The director was responsible for the outdoor scenes, and the only actor for the outdoor shoot was Chen Bai.
This brief shot, lasting only a few seconds or a little over ten seconds, would take at least two hours to film.
On a rainy day like this, just setting up lights and finding a position was considerably more challenging than usual.
With lights swaying and voices echoing amidst the sound of rain, those sheltering under the eaves from the downpour were dressed in cloaks, initially standing, but later squatting down in a rather ungraceful manner.
The setup had nothing to do with him; he had no tasks to do, and with the script getting wet, he decided not to bring it along. Instead, he just squatted there, looking at his phone.
He was chatting with his good neighbor.
His good neighbor calculated that he hadn’t had a day off for more than half a month. Fortunately, he had two days off now; he would finish filming in the afternoon and return to the crew the day after tomorrow.
After sending the message about going outdoors soon, he put away his phone and sighed.
“What are you sighing about?”
His manager came over, holding an umbrella and maneuvering around the equipment from the street side. As she got closer, she closed the umbrella and asked, “Are you tired?”
Chen Bai replied no, lifting his eyes to say, “I miss my neigboor.”
Chatting on the phone was different from meeting in person; at least he couldn’t play Ludo with him face to face.
If he had a day off tomorrow, he might be able to go back and bake a couple of cookies.
This person had a sincere look in his eyes and a genuine tone, and he wasn’t lying.
His manager raised an eyebrow.
She realized that this person wasn’t in love, nor did he seem to have the potential for a romantic obsession, but it was clear he had a strong sense of friendship.
She replied briefly, “Just keep thinking then.”
It was very gentle and understanding.
Feeling a bit cold from his manager’s indifference, Chen Bai silently wrapped his cloak tighter around himself.
Gao Qian squatted beside him, took out his phone, and handed it over, saying, “Here are two candidates we’ve filtered out this time; take a look.”
Chen Bai took the phone and glanced at it.
One was a man and the other a woman—one was a somewhat experienced assistant, and the other had just entered the industry not long ago. Both could carry and manage tasks well, had organized work habits, and demonstrated good on-the-spot responsiveness, with no blemishes in their resumes.
Those approved by his money-making partner were unlikely to be too far off, so Chen Bai didn’t voice many opinions, nodding and saying it was good.
Meanwhile, the director on the other side began calling for him.
Chen Bai stood up, walk under the shed holding an umberlla.
The director really did bring in a dark horse, with smooth fur and prominent muscle lines.
In simpler terms, it was an expensive horse. The director said, “This is a prop stolen from the neighboring crew.”
The serious director was trying to unleash his sense of humor.
Chen Bai laughed symbolically and got on the horse.
The raindrops hit the cloak, producing a continuous pattering sound.
As the director had envisioned, the combination of the white skin and black horse looked much better than if paired with a brown one.
Not far away, the camera on the track was manned by a cameraman in a raincoat, who gestured towards this side.
The horse’s hooves rose and then struck the damp bluestone pavement, splashing water everywhere.
Amidst the heavy rain, the sound of the horse’s hooves shifted from slow to fast, the crisp sound growing closer, rushing down the street and gradually stopping at the end of it.
The rider slightly lifted the heavy, soaked cloak and looked this way.
The director bent down to check the camera’s footage, while the cameraman pointed to a corner of the frame, saying, “The lighting is still too dark; the focus isn’t right, and it hasn’t aligned here.”
The director waved for them to come back.
After adjusting the lighting and refocusing, Chen Bai ran back and forth three times, finally capturing a usable shot.
This segment, which would be trimmed down to about ten seconds, required multiple shots, and running through it three times completed just one of them.
After a brief two-minute break, the stylist came forward to adjust his clothes, also using a towel to wipe the rain off his face.
The manager, holding the umbrella, handed him a thermos filled with hot water.
Chen Bai took it and had a sip, realizing it had something added to it, causing his eyes to widen slightly.
The manager said, “Ginger water; it warms you up.”
Chen Bai thanked her for her thoughtfulness.
The director stood nearby, saying, “Let’s try to speed things up; once we’re done, we can call it a day. Thank you for your hard work.”
The staff wore raincoats, and the only one getting drenched was Chen Bai.
He smiled.
It wasn’t that hard; he was just getting paid to do his job.
After a short break, they resumed work.
The actors were shooting in the pouring rain, and the crew tried to avoid making mistakes, hastening their actions to finish filming as soon as possible.
Although they said to finish quickly, the reality was that it still took about half an hour to shoot several shots.
After leading the horse to a sheltered area and handing it over to the relevant staff, when Chen Bai returned to the covered area, someone promptly came over to help him take off the heavy, soaked cloak while the manager handed him a towel.
After wiping his face a couple of times, feeling suddenly lighter, he looked at the director and asked, “Is today done?”
The director replied that it was finished.
Since they still needed to pack up the equipment and were temporarily unable to leave, the crew sent a car to take the drenched actor back to the hotel.
The drive took a few minutes, and just as they arrived back at the hotel lobby, the manager glanced at her phone and said, “The director has informed the coordinator that your filming schedule has been adjusted; you have a day off tomorrow.”
“Hmm?”
Chen Bai asked, “What do you mean?”
The manager put away her phone and said, “The director thinks that with your current complexion, if you go to work tomorrow, you’ll have to lie down for the next few days.”
Chen Bai lowered his head to glance at his own reflection in the phone screen, looking left and right, but didn’t feel there was anything different.
“…”
Not understanding how someone could discern his complexion from a phone screen, he chose not to speak, wanting to get back to his room to shower and sleep as soon as possible.
After changing back into his own clothes, the dyed-hair fan finally returned to his room.
He rushed to shower the moment he got back, changing into warm, dry clothes. He then lay down on the bed, picked up his phone to inform his good neighbor about his day off tomorrow, and after putting down the phone, he felt it was neither too early nor too late, beginning to contemplate what he should do tonight.
“Based on last time when he got a fever after just a few minutes in the rain, it seems like this time, no matter how early or late he goes to bed, he won’t be able to avoid catching a cold.
Since he can’t avoid it, there’s no need to go to bed early. After glancing at the time and considering how much of his streaming hours he still needed to make up, he decided to get up and stream. He also sent a message to his study buddy, saying that their study session for the night would be paused again.
In a film crew, all sorts of news get around, and his study buddy already knew about him filming in the rain. Thinking that he’d rest early today, his buddy expressed understanding and reminded him to take care of his health.
But instead of resting early, he immediately logged on to stream and dominated every map, rapidly gaining ranks.
Since he didn’t have work tomorrow, he even extended the stream by an hour, not leaving his desk until 3 a.m. When he finally lay down in bed, he peacefully closed his eyes.
The room darkened, and the sound of rain was muffled by the window, thudding dully in his ears.
In the quiet, the person who had peacefully closed his eyes opened them again, feeling like he had forgotten something.
Streaming? Done. Reviewing the script? Done. Everything should be finished.
“……”
After thinking for a couple of seconds, he closed his eyes peacefully once more.
The heavy rain didn’t stop and continued through the night.
It should have been a beautiful day to sleep until late in the morning.
At 6 a.m., his body’s biological clock, trained over time, woke him right on schedule.
Sleeping at 3 a.m. and waking up at 6 a.m. — it’s like the Grim Reaper complimenting me on my health.
After groping around for his phone for a while with his eyes still closed, he finally cracked his eyes open just a bit, squinting to check the time.
[6:00]
This biological clock is scarily precise.
Just as he was about to put down the phone and curl back into his blankets, his half-opened grayish eyes caught a message popping up at the bottom of the screen.
[I’m coming to the film set tomorrow]
The message was from his good neighbor, sent eight hours ago.
“……”
He instantly woke up and finally remembered what he had forgotten yesterday.
Yesterday, he had been focused on messaging his neighbor to tell him that he had the day off today. After that, he went straight to streaming and completely forgot to check if there had been a reply.
Now that he saw the message, he had to reply, or else he might forget again.
His other hand fumbled out from under the blanket. Squinting, he tried to type, but ended up sending a string of gibberish letters, so he gave up and opted for a voice message.
He asked if his neighbor had any free time when he arrived at the film set and to give him a call when he did.
After sending the voice message and making sure his message was clear, he finally put down his phone and buried himself back in his blanket.
When he woke up again, it was 9:30 a.m., the complete reverse of last time when he woke up early.
It had been a while since he’d slept for six hours. Crawling out of his blanket, he felt refreshed.
— Not entirely refreshed.
The room was warm, but for some reason, his body felt a little chilly. After spending so long riding a horse yesterday, his old arms and legs were also feeling sore.
The first thing he did after getting up was check his phone.
Holding his aching back, he unlocked his phone and immediately saw a new message.
His good neighbor hadn’t called, just sent a message about ten minutes earlier, saying that he had finished his business, just got to his hotel room, and asked if he wanted breakfast.
The hotel was the same one he was staying at.
“……”
He jumped out of bed, quickly freshened up, grabbed his room card, and headed out while dialing his phone.
The film crew had reserved three floors of the hotel, with security guarding the entrance to prevent anyone not related to the crew from entering. However, the other floors were accessible. His neighbor was on one of the upper floors, and it only took a short elevator ride to reach him.
“I’m on your floor now…”
As the elevator doors opened, he practically leaped out, phone in hand.
— Well, almost leaped out. Just before he rushed into the hallway, someone grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
A familiar voice came from above: “I’m here.”
The voice on the phone and the one above him overlapped. He looked up and saw a familiar pair of eyes under a hat brim.
His light-colored eyes brightened immediately: “Comrade Xiao Xu!”
Xiao Xu replied and said, “Let’s head back to the room.”
Then asked, “You haven’t eaten breakfast?”
He replied that he hadn’t.
Xu Sinian guessed as much.
The hotel stopped serving breakfast at 9 a.m., and since he hadn’t received a message before then, he figured that this guy would sleep right through it.
“I brought breakfast. Let’s go to my room to eat first,” Xu Sinian said.
With a smile, he agreed and followed Xu Sinian towards his room.
Under the black brim of Xu Sinian’s hat, his dark eyes glanced down at the wrist he was still holding, then quickly looked away.
Once inside the room, they headed straight to the dining table.
The breakfast was already on the table, along with a thermos. The breakfast items had just been taken out of the thermos.
There was the classic, unbeatable soy milk, some red bean buns (which were his favorite), freshly steamed buns, and porridge.
Normally, he didn’t drink much porridge.
Xu Sinian said, “It’s red bean and barley porridge, good for clearing heat and dampness. You should drink some after getting rained on.”
So, out of appreciation for his neighbor’s thoughtfulness, he drank the porridge. After a few sips, he glanced over and asked, “Where did you hear that?”
“My family’s kitchen staff,” his neighbor replied.
He chuckled, “I figured.”
As he suspected, his neighbor didn’t know much about these things himself.
After enjoying a delicious breakfast he shouldn’t have had the time for, he stood up feeling invigorated, only to immediately sneeze and sit back down again.
The sneeze made his nose tingle, and his old back ached too. He sat there, half-closing his eyes, unsure where to focus his discomfort.
Xu Sinian glanced at his thin clothes and asked, “Where’s your coat?”
“No coat,” he replied.
He usually wore a thick costume on set, which kept him warm, and with the hotel room always being cozy, there hadn’t been much need for an actual coat.
“In simple terms, when he left earlier, he grabbed clothes randomly, didn’t bring a jacket, and didn’t want to spend money to buy one.
He answered quickly and directly, with a hint of righteous confidence.
‘…’
Xu Sinian went to the living room, bent down to pick up something, and came back, saying, “Just make do with this.”
Chen Bai recognized it. It was the windbreaker his good neighbor had worn when he picked him up from the hospital.
He still remembered how cool and stylish Xu looked in it. Thinking that he would look just as cool and stylish wearing it, he thanked him, put on the jacket, and asked, “Am I cool? Am I handsome?”
Xu Sinian averted his gaze and responded with a yes.
Feeling validated, the ‘cool guy’ went to the window to check out his own cool reflection.
Xu Sinian, “…”
In the mirror, the person was wearing a clearly oversized jacket, with only his fingertips sticking out from the sleeves, indicating that there were still hands inside.
Chen Bai n thought for a moment, then looked back at his good neighbor and said, ‘Old Xu, did you just say I looked handsome?’
His nickname for Xu Sinian shifted from ‘Comrade Xiao Xu’ to ‘Old Xu,’ but his good neighbor avoided the topic of being cool and handsome and simply said, “You look good.”
After thinking for a bit, Chen Bai objectively stated, “I look like when I was a kid, stealing my dad’s clothes.”
‘…’
This time, it was his good neighbor, who had just been promoted to a fatherly role, that fell silent.
While Xu was silent, Chen Bai continued to shake the jacket, trying to get his hands to emerge from the sleeves.
As he was shaking, a voice came from behind, “Hold out your hand.”
Chen Bai, not understanding but compliant, extended his hand.
Xu Sinian bent down slightly, grabbed the jacket sleeve, and carefully rolled it up for him.
*
Author’s note:
This is the aura of the official partner (nodding).
Translator Note:
Agree with author (nod)(nod)
