Chapter 37 – Wrapping Up Filming
Some people joked, others looked at themselves in the mirror.
Chen Bai stayed silent, pretending once again that he hadn’t seen the chat, given that both membership comments were, unfortunately, true.
As the game started, he stopped checking the chat, focusing on the screen since he couldn’t watch his own show without a VIP subscription anyway.
Just as planned, at midnight sharp, Chen Bai bid his friend goodbye and ended the stream right on time.
The days of late nights and early mornings in the film crew passed quickly, and a month flew by amidst the life-and-death scenes.
As the end of the month neared, the atmosphere on set grew increasingly tense. The staff’s eyes were filled with exhaustion, but within that weariness was the joy of impending liberation.
Freedom was close, though for Chen Bai, constantly grinding away, there wasn’t much difference.
The night before they finished filming, Chen Bai, as usual, studied with his study partner without being affected by the impending end.
He had already filled one notebook and had started on a new one—still priced at 8.91 yuan, a true bargain.
During a break, Zhou Jing set down his pen and stretched his wrist, saying, “I heard the director has already planned the wrap party for tomorrow night.”
According to the schedule, if nothing went wrong and there weren’t too many retakes, they should finish all scenes by the afternoon. The wrap party would be at night, giving them a few hours of rest in between.
Zhou Jing glanced at Chen’s slightly thin figure and asked, “Can you drink?”
Wrap parties usually involve alcohol; the only question is how much.
And Chen Bai didn’t seem like someone who could handle alcohol well.
Chen Bai, indeed, couldn’t. His tolerance was so low that you couldn’t even tell where the problem started—just one sip of alcohol would make him float.
Twirling the pen in his hand slowly, Chen said, “Sister Qian suggested I create a persona of being allergic to alcohol, so tomorrow I’ll just drink juice.”
Zhou Jing: “…?”
This was the first time someone had openly declared in front of him that they were creating a fake persona, without any attempt to hide it. His brow twitched, and he said, “Keep that to yourself, don’t go telling others.”
Chen Bai ruffled his hair, propped his head on his hand, and replied, “It’s fine, we’re all friends here. No harm telling you.”
He said it so casually that Zhou Jing paused mid-stretch and glanced over.
At that moment, Chen Bai also looked over, their eyes meeting beneath his messy hair, light-colored pupils visible. Chen Bai smiled and said, “If you tell anyone, I’ll spread the word about how you secretly cry in your bed at night over negative comments.”
Zhou Jing “…”
The story about Zhou Jing’s sleepless night due to a few comments had been exaggerated beyond recognition in Chen Bai’s retelling. Whatever strange feeling had momentarily arisen disappeared instantly. Zhou Jing wiped his face and said, “I just had insomnia that night.”
Chen Bai said, “Really.”
The video continued, and their friendly conversation during the break ended there.
The next day, when work resumed, there was an unmistakable air of joy throughout the crew. The staff made fewer mistakes than usual.
Miraculously, because of the minimal mistakes and the actors’ great performances, all the scenes—including those that needed reshooting—were completed by the afternoon. The crew finished work an hour early and officially wrapped filming.
Unlike his previous projects, this was the first time Chen Bai had stayed with a crew from start to finish, witnessing the atmosphere after the final scene was shot.
There was an intense yet lively energy amidst the exhaustion. The crew packed up their equipment with incredible speed, eager to rush back and catch up on sleep.
The actor playing the third male lead squatted nearby, expressing relief that the project was finally over, waiting for the car to take him home for a long sleep.
Chen Bai also squatted down beside him and pulled out his phone to message his good neighbor.
His neighbor responded quickly, followed by a phone call.
Chen Bai answered and heard a familiar voice ask when the wrap party would end that night.
“Around nine or ten.”
His co-star was still browsing the internet, while Chen stood up to stretch. His friend waved him off, signaling it was fine, so Chen Bai squatted back down.
“Do I want to go back? Of course, I do. I’d love to play a couple of rounds of Ludo.”
Chen Bai absentmindedly picked up a leaf and poked at the ground with it, then lifted his head slightly. “…Pick me up? Tonight?”
His co-star, who was still squatting and surfing the web, glanced over.
The phone call lasted only a few minutes, then Chen Bai hung up.
His co-star asked, “Someone’s picking you up tonight?”
Chen nodded, “A friend happens to be free and offered to come get me.”
His neighbor had finished their last project about half a month ago. Chen Bai’s team had been shooting in several different locations, with the final site being this old district. After moving around for nearly half a year, wrapping up was no small feat.
The third male lead let out a sigh of envy, pretending to wipe away a tear. “I want to leave too.”
Most of the crew wouldn’t be able to leave tonight. After drinking at the wrap party, everyone, including the drivers, would need to sleep it off before heading out the next morning.
Chen Bai chuckled.
When the crew’s car arrived, those who had no desire to stay at the hotel were the first to jump in, eager to go rest.
After returning to the hotel, Chen Bai didn’t rest. Instead, he took a shower and started what he called “precision work.”
Precision work meant disassembling his computer.
Using the same cardboard and foam materials he’d packed with when he first arrived, he carefully placed each component back into its original position—nothing more, nothing less.
He didn’t have much to pack. After disassembling the computer and tossing in his clothes, everything was ready to go.
The wrap party was being held at the hotel, so all he had to do was take the elevator downstairs.
Aside from the crew, some of the investors and invited reporters also attended the party.
The event followed the usual format: speeches by the main crew members, followed by the classic thank-you round, with a few lighthearted interactions thrown in.
Chen Bai received a bouquet of flowers from the director, along with a red envelope.
Since it was no longer official working hours, the crew members were free to take pictures. Chen Bai became like a life-sized standee, posing for photos. After one person finished, another stepped up for their turn.
Finally, after all the formalities, they could sit down and eat. Chen Bai sat at a table with the lead actors, the core crew, and the investors. His manager, who had fully committed to his “alcohol allergy” persona, intercepted all the drinks meant for him, and his study buddy kindly blocked one cup as well.
The table was filled with laughter and conversation, while some quietly focused on their food.
As the wrap party turned into a drinking session, several people ended up needing help to leave by the end of the night.
This was when Chen Bai fully appreciated his money-making partner’s incredible skills.
Most of the investors were practically passed out, but she remained clear-headed, still able to walk and speak coherently. Apart from her flushed face, there was no sign that she had been drinking heavily.
Although she wasn’t drunk, Chen Bai still escorted her to her room. Before she opened the door, he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her.
It was a red envelope, not as grand as the one from the director, but still nicely presented.
He said, “Zhou Jing mentioned that it’s customary to give red envelopes to assistants when filming wraps.”
Her alcohol-fogged brain took a moment to recall that some actors did indeed follow that tradition. She just hadn’t expected this 8.91-yuan persona to follow it.
Feeling an indescribable sense of awe, the manager accepted the envelope and quickly counted it. “There’s an extra one.”
Chen smiled, “That one’s for you.”
He continued, “My friend’s picking me up later, so I won’t have time to give the other two to Brother Liu and the others. Could you pass them on for me?”
Holding the envelopes, she paused, then smiled so broadly that fine lines appeared around her eyes. Without saying much more, she simply told him to be careful on the road and to send a message when he arrived safely.
Chen Bai nodded, waved goodbye, and headed back to his room.
His good neighbor arrived about ten minutes later.
There was a knock on the door—two firm but gentle taps—and Chen, who had been sitting on the sofa, got up to open it.
His neighbor stood there, dressed like a burglar except for the fact that he had a handsome face.
Without needing to be asked, the neighbor picked up the box and bag of clothes from the door. Chen Bai immediately felt lighter, now only needing to carry the bouquet of flowers from the director.
What had once been a large, bulky box seemed to shrink in his neighbor’s hands, suddenly looking small and light.
Everything was packed and ready. After confirming nothing was left behind, he lowered his head and closed the door.
With a “click,” the sound of the door closing was accompanied by the sound of the door across the hallway opening.
He turned his head and happened to meet the gaze of the person opposite him.
It was a coincidence—it was his study buddy, who had probably just returned from the wrap party.
Chen Bai nodded slightly as a greeting.
Zhou Jing, with one hand still on the doorknob, glanced at the flowers in Chen Bai’s arms and the box and bag held by the stranger next to him. “You’re leaving tonight?”
Chen Bai nodded and smiled, glancing at the person beside him. “Yeah, a friend came to pick me up.”
His friend, Xu Sinian, whose dark eyes were hidden under the brim of his hat, swept his gaze across the scene.
Zhou Jing, he’d seen him before, back when that vague rumor had circulated.
After a brief glance, Xu Sinian retracted his gaze. His dark eyes remained calm as he simply said, “Hello.”
His voice was cold, like the sound of jade striking, making anyone hearing it unconsciously tense up.
—There was a strong sense of pressure, and it felt oddly familiar.
Zhou Jing met his gaze, paused for a moment, and then nodded. “Hello.”
The meeting was brief, and they quickly parted ways.
The two heading to the elevator continued their conversation, their voices gradually fading.
“Smell like alcohol—did you drink tonight?”
“No, sister Qian and some friends helped block the drinks for me. She’s really good at drinking…”
Zhou Jing stood at his door, watching the two walk down the hallway together.
That friend hadn’t looked back at him again, his head slightly lowered, but even though his face was no longer clearly visible, it was obvious that his gaze had been focused entirely on the person next to him.
Setting everything else aside, this friend… seemed a bit off.
—
Xu Sinian led the way as they got into the car.
It had been a long time since Chen Bai sat in the passenger seat of his good neighbor’s car.
The important box containing his computer was placed on the back seat, while the slightly less important but still valued bouquet of flowers was secured with a seatbelt. Even an emergency brake wouldn’t harm it.
“It’s getting late. Should we stay at Yulin Road for the night?”
As the car sped along the highway through the outskirts, with dark silhouettes of trees flashing by on both sides, Xu Sinian glanced briefly at the person beside him. “I had that place cleaned recently, so it’s ready to stay in.”
Chen Bai had no objections.
He hadn’t been back to his old apartment in the city for a long time. Going there tonight would mean cleaning up before he could even sleep.
Yulin Road was closer to the film studio, so they could rest sooner.
Some people didn’t even make it to Yulin Road before peacefully falling asleep along the way.
When they arrived, it was Xu Sinian who woke Chen Bai.
This time, his thoughtful neighbor remembered to unbuckle his seatbelt, allowing Chen Bai to smoothly float out of the car, still half-asleep.
The task of carrying the box fell to Comrade Xu, while Chen Bai held onto the bouquet and pressed the elevator button.
Having visited once before, he already remembered the floor.
The elevator went up and stopped at a familiar door.
Xu Sinian raised his hand slightly to unlock the door.
As he watched Xu Sinian unlock and change the lock, Chen Bai, standing nearby, habitually commented from a professional perspective, shaking his head with regret. “I couldn’t unlock this one.”
Xu Si Nian replied, “That’s unfortunate.”
With the door open, Xu stepped aside to let Chen Bai in first, then followed and closed the door behind him.
After carefully placing the box on the side cabinet, he bent down to fetch a pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet and casually took the flowers from Chen Bai’s hands. “Let me take those.”
Chen Bai handed over the bouquet, changed into the slippers, and looked around the room.
Something felt different from the last time he was here, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what.
After looking more closely, he finally noticed that the curtains that had been drawn before were now open, with city lights shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows. There was also a water glass on the coffee table and a familiar coat draped over the sofa.
He remembered that the last time he was here, he didn’t have these slippers on his feet either.
The room was still tidy, but it no longer felt like a model home—it now had a touch of life, as if someone had been living there. He turned and asked, “Have you been staying here recently?”
Xu Sinian placed the bouquet on the table and replied, “I stay here when I don’t have work.”
Which meant he would be living here for the time being. Chen Bai smiled. “Looks like we’re neighbors again.”
He had already discussed everything with his new landlord, signed the contract, and only had the move left to complete.
The only change was that instead of being next-door neighbors, they’d now be living on different floors.
It was a good arrangement. They could bake cookies together whenever they had the time.
His good neighbor agreed and showed him to the guest room for the night.
The guest room was a suite, complete with a private bathroom and a balcony. The view from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city’s nightscape, with the breeze gently lifting his hair.
The bed had fresh linens, and all the usual necessities were provided. Chen Bai gave his thoughtful neighbor a thumbs-up.
It was late, so Xu Sinian left him to settle in and rest.
Chen Bai washed up but didn’t go to bed. The king of late nights never slept before midnight.
He had recently signed on for a school drama his manager had mentioned, and the script had been handed to him. This was the perfect time to start reading.
The script focused on an ensemble cast of high school students. His role this time was different from before. Whether it was his previous characters, A-Huai or Si Yang, they were both fragile in some way. Energetic, but not overwhelmingly so.
This time, however, his character, Xu Yifan, was full of energy—a kid who skipped class to play basketball, snuck out to surf the web, and caused trouble with everything except studying.
Xu Yifan’s parents had given him the name hoping he would live a smooth life, but reality had proven much harsher. His parents were divorced, and he lived with his mother, who was with a wealthy man. As a result, he never had to worry about food or clothing, receiving a considerable allowance each month.
The wealthy man didn’t like him, and he didn’t want to go back anyway, so he spent his nights wandering aimlessly, playing games in internet cafes, and being called “brother” by a group of sycophantic friends who stuck around for his money.
Life was bleak but bearable, until one winter night, when the internet cafe he frequented was raided by the school administration. He was caught and escorted home by a teacher.
In front of the teacher and school leaders, his mother’s wealthy boyfriend hit him hard, knocking him to the ground.
His mother broke up with the wealthy man and moved with him into the cheapest old alleyway near the school, taking several jobs and working from morning until late at night.
Without money, his so-called friends abandoned him. Some even turned against him, feeling he had been too arrogant before, plotting to ambush him in the alley to vent their frustration.
The next day, he went to school with injuries, only to be scolded by a teacher who assumed he was still hanging out with bad company. That evening, during self-study, he learned that his mother had collapsed from exhaustion and been taken to the hospital. One setback after another pushed his life to rock bottom.
Humans are like that: they don’t rise until they’ve been broken; they don’t rebound until they’ve hit the bottom.
Xu Yifan filed a complaint with the school’s ethics office against his former friends. Ignoring the doubtful and pitying glances from others, he began trying to catch up on his schoolwork with the help of the main characters during the day, and worked as a gaming booster at night to earn money. At home, he attempted to cook and care for his bedridden mother.
There were setbacks and misunderstandings along the way, but in the end, things turned out well. He scored a spot in a university he had never dreamed of and continued his studies with a scholarship. His mother found a stable job, and everything started to improve.
Chen Bai “…”
The night breeze blew through the window, and the only sound in the room was the rustling of papers. The person lying on the bed casually placed a pen behind his ear, his eyes sore from reading. He buried his face in the script, as if hoping to absorb it through some quantum entanglement method.
The quantum entanglement reading method didn’t work. He turned over and continued reading.
At two in the morning, the person finally put down the script, right on time, and closed his eyes.
Chen Bai “…”
Maybe reading a script wasn’t the best pre-sleep activity.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window, which hadn’t been covered by curtains. The person lying in bed opened his eyes, which looked even more tired than the night before.
After a night of script scenarios swirling in his head, Chen Bai mechanically got up and washed up. Only after splashing water on his face did he feel a bit more awake. He opened the door to his room.
His good neighbor was already awake, dressed in loungewear and sitting in the living room, looking much more relaxed than usual.
Chen Bai, hair sticking out in all directions, walked over. The person on the sofa noticed him and said, “You’re up.”
Then he added, “The cup on the table is yours; use it for water.”
Chen Bai changed direction halfway through, heading to his morning routine of drinking water.
The cup was white, and after finishing his drink, he took another look and noticed it had a cute little dog with beady eyes drawn on it.
Holding the cup, he turned his head and looked at his neighbor quietly sitting in the living room. He asked, “Did you pick this out?”
His neighbor replied, “I thought you’d like it.”
That was enough confirmation.
Chen Bai smiled. “I do like it.”
Breakfast was already on the table in an insulated box, ready to eat. His good neighbor stood up to join him for breakfast.
Sitting down, Chen Bai squinted as he took a sip of soy milk. The chaos of his hair somehow made him feel entirely at ease, the fatigue vanishing. Glancing at the coat casually tossed next to his neighbor’s seat, he asked, “Are you heading out today?”
His neighbor rubbed his forehead. “I’m picking up Xu Lang from school at noon.”
Normally, Xu Lang finished school in the afternoon, but because of exams this week, he was getting out early.
If no one picked him up, he’d probably use it as an excuse to disappear.
Chen Bai suddenly remembered that it was Friday—high school students’ day off.
Thinking back to the brief quantum entanglement session with the script last night, and recalling the potential filming locations his manager had mentioned, he asked, “Where does your brother go to school again?”
Xu Si Nian replied, “First High School.”
Chen Bai raised an eyebrow as he swallowed his soy milk. “I think my next filming location is at First High School.”
His neighbor looked at him. “Want to come along and check it out?”
—
First High School
A rather mundane exam, but an exhilarating start to the weekend.
The joy of being let out early overshadowed the uneasy feeling of facing the results, like opening a blind box. The classroom buzzed with excitement.
Only one person, sitting in the back row, slowly slumped onto his desk, showing no hint of joy in his eyes.
His friend, sitting beside him and hastily packing his bag, turned to ask, “We’re getting out early, so why do you look so down?”
Xu Lang shifted positions as he lay down. “I have to go to my brother’s place for break.”
His friend said, “Didn’t you say you wanted to hang out at your brother’s place before?”
The desk was too low for someone as tall as Xu Lang, making it uncomfortable to lie down. He sat back up and said, “That was different.”
Back then, Chen Bai was still around. Now it was just his brother, and spending the whole time with a stone-faced guy wasn’t as fun as staying at school.
Not to mention, Xu Lang still couldn’t understand why so many people liked his brother.
His friend didn’t get the difference and skipped to a different topic, mentioning the latest gossip he’d heard. “I heard that the top 100 students in the grade will have some summer camp thing this year, and they’ll have to stay at school for remedial classes during the break.”
Xu Lang replied, “Isn’t that just asking for more suffering?”
His friend agreed, finished packing, and bolted out of the classroom.
The dismissal bell had already rung a while ago. If Xu Lang waited any longer, he’d have to face his brother’s poker face. So, after tossing a couple of books and homework into his bag, he slowly walked out of the classroom.
Sure enough, by the time he dragged himself to the school gate, most of the students had already left, with only a few stragglers walking out.
By the gate, where temporary parking was allowed, Xu Lang spotted the car he had hoped not to see.
In the car, someone was sitting with their hat pulled low, hands on the steering wheel, not looking at him as usual, but gazing elsewhere.
