Chapter 7 – A-Huai
Entering the final circle, the duo was neatly lined up, with only Chen Bai and his temporary partner remaining.
Donations kept flashing across the screen; he noticed them but didn’t look, as his temporary partner took down another enemy from a hill, and he swiftly eliminated another enemy who had circled behind them.
Their teamwork was smooth from start to finish, and victory was certain.
In the last second before the game ended, Chen Bai leaned back, took his fingers off the keyboard to adjust his headset, smiled, and said to his temporary partner, “Goodbye, friend.”
That laugh was genuine and heartfelt, radiating happiness.
[Hahaha, Er Bai must be feeling pent up!]
[That’s the happiest thing he’s said this round; Er Bai, you really understand!]
[Who understands the value of that voice! Doesn’t anyone think Er Bai sounds great when he laughs? I forgot to record it!!]
[Don’t worry, don’t be afraid; the recording crew is already in position.]
As the victory screen appeared, the team voice chat ended. After the game, Chen Bai quickly returned to the main interface, leaned back, and scrolled through the comments to thank the viewers for their previous gifts, appearing very earnest and dedicated.
While he was looking at the thank-you notes in the lower-left corner of the screen, a message popped up in the lower-right corner.
It was a team invitation from his recent temporary partner, Qing Zhou.
Still focused on thanking the gifts, he didn’t notice it until the comments quickly alerted him. He finally shifted his gaze, and his mouse moved as well.
The small triangle kept jumping between “Decline” and “Accept,” and just as it settled, another invitation popped up.
This one was from a teammate who had just logged on but was in a match.
In a flash, Chen Bai clicked to accept.
Glancing at the comments, he squinted and dramatically explained, “The big streamer doesn’t lack teammates, but I’m the only one who can play special tactics with my partner.”
[Translated into plain language: I want to play the bait game.]
[Hahaha, I just snuck back from the next room; this is Qing Zhou’s first time inviting other streamers to play together, and he got rejected by a whole handsome guy. How sad.]
[As expected of you, Chen Er Bai.]
[Flowing Qing Zhou, but solid partners.]
Finally teaming up with his partner, Chen Bai chatted with both the comments and his temporary partner while sniping a couple of enemies, clearly having a lot more fun.
Today, he also streamed until 2 a.m.; the late-night viewers who guessed that he would lose one round emerged victorious.
By the time he ended the stream, there were still quite a few people in the chat, likely because he had played a game with his temporary partner, drawing some traffic.
After shutting down the computer and removing his headphones, Chen Bai waited until the sound of the main unit cooling down faded away, and his ears fell into complete silence.
Standing up, he glanced at the time on his phone, slightly stretching his stiff body before putting his phone in his pocket and heading to wash up.
The director was already hastily arranging his scenes. He needed to go to the set in the morning for a makeup test and to observe the filming. Tonight, he needed to go to bed early.
He had initially thought it would take a while for the contract to finalize, but due to his agent’s exceptional business skills and the other side’s urgent need for someone, everything progressed quickly. They had started discussions not long ago, and by this afternoon, the contract was finalized.
He wasn’t sure how well his agent had negotiated, but judging by the director’s expression, it seemed like they managed to squeeze out a lot of extra budget.
The next morning’s breakfast consisted of the red bean buns he had made last night, a food that could be eaten on the go.
Chen Bai was not surprised that he almost overslept. When he left, his brain cells hadn’t fully awakened, and his eyes weren’t entirely open, but he was still stubbornly munching on the red bean buns.
Fortunately, the set was close enough for him to arrive right on time.
The last time he came, he was an outsider; this time, he had already become an internal staff member.
The director and assistant director were busy filming, so he didn’t disturb them. Someone took him to get his makeup done first.
The production team had a designated makeup room, and the makeup artist was already waiting inside. Upon seeing him, she stood up and smiled; he greeted her back.
Getting his makeup done was surprisingly easy. A Huai was a patient, so the makeup was mainly to accentuate his sickly appearance. However, some actors had indeed just come out of the hospital and, due to habitual late-night hours, had such pale faces that they looked even more like patients than actual sick people.
The person sitting there had naturally attractive features, so the makeup artist only needed to enhance the contours to make them more prominent on camera.
The stylist arrived afterward, bringing a set of clothes and asking him to try them on.
A Huai had a total of three outfits in the film, selected based on previous actors. After the change, the director looked for a long time and eventually said the original clothes weren’t suitable, so they needed to be changed. Given the short time frame, they had only found this current outfit per the director’s requirements. Now they were trying it on to see if any issues needed to be adjusted.
The stylist brought a set of linen-colored loungewear, which was loose and draped nicely, paired with a beige knitted wool cardigan that looked comfortable and warm.
Chen Bai changed into his outfit.
The lights in the dressing room were slightly white. Dressed in a knitted jacket, he lowered his eyes slightly, his eyelashes casting a shadow under the lights, and his slender wrists looked pale.
It turned out that some people could simply stand there and naturally resemble A-Huai himself.
After a brief silence, the stylist coughed and asked, “Does it fit alright?”
“No problem,” Chen Bai smiled and said, “It’s more comfortable than my own clothes.”
When he smiled, his whole aura changed. Sunlight streamed in from the window, and even the air seemed infused with warmth.
The stylist couldn’t help but smile back, reaching out to smooth the slightly wrinkled collar of the knitted jacket. “The first unit is about to take a break.”
When the first unit takes a break, it’s a good time to find the director.
The makeup artist needed to touch up the actors during the break, so they took Chen Bai along as well.
As long as Chen Bai was around, he could strike up a conversation anywhere. By the end of the walk, he had already become friends with the makeup artist and added them on WeChat.
When they arrived at the first unit’s filming location, the shoot had not yet finished.
The director frowned, and the atmosphere was tense. The makeup artist whispered, “There must have been too many NGs for this scene.”
Chen Bai nodded and squatted on the side, watching the actor through the camera.
The tense atmosphere on set was palpable, and the actor clearly felt the pressure. Every movement and every glance was tight, despite their skill.
The director called for a stop.
Instead of continuing, he announced a break to allow everyone to reset their emotions before resuming.
In an instant, the quiet space became noisy. Assistants rushed in to hand the actors water and towels to prevent makeup from smudging, the makeup artists hurried to do touch-ups, the camera crew checked the footage, and the stagehands immediately reset the scene. Everyone was busy, and no one dared to bother the director.
— Scratch that. Someone went up.
The person squatting nearby stood up and took a couple of steps forward, then squatted down beside the director, greeting him.
The director glanced at the person, his eyes finally resting on the clothes they wore. His frown relaxed slightly, and he said, “This definitely suits better.”
Chen Bai asked, “Was that the scene where the male lead tears up the letter and the female lead finds out?”
“Yes.”
The director nodded and handed over a script. As he did, he realized something and asked, “How did you know?”
The full script was still with him, and Chen Bai should have only received the parts related to A-Huai’s character.
Chen Bai took the script, thanked him, and smiled, “Didn’t you send us the digital version when we signed the contract?”
Though he said this casually, the contract had only been signed yesterday, and this scene was already from the middle of the story.
The director sat up straighter and asked, “How much have you read?”
Chen Bai held up his fingers, indicating a small amount. “Just a little, not much.”
Staying up late to read more of the script was clearly the right decision.
The actual filming process is different from just reading a script. Without understanding the context, watching the live shoot wouldn’t teach you much.
Since Chen Bai’s scenes were scheduled for the next day and were quite substantial, his main task today was to observe and get a sense of things.
The observation period ended in the afternoon, and he had to head home to make dinner.
On the way back, he ran into the makeup artist who had just returned from shopping for emergency supplies. The makeup artist handed him some unnecessary items to help with disposal.
The “unnecessary item” was a flyer. The makeup artist had taken it but hadn’t found a place to throw it out, as the trash can in the dressing room was already full.
The helpful Chen Bai took the flyer and glanced at it. It turned out to be a supermarket ad.
A supermarket flyer—a tool that wins hearts.
“…”
His gaze swept over the flyer’s contents, and his originally lazy, half-closed eyes slowly opened.
—
In another part of the production set, at an old factory that had been unused for years.
Although the workload increased, efficiency was also higher than usual. With the work completed ahead of time, Xu Sinian wrapped up his scenes, and the assistants could finish early too.
It was just around dinner time, and one of the assistants asked the person already putting on their jacket, “Mr. Xu, are you going to eat?”
After putting on his jacket, Xu Sinian fastened his watch and said, “Not today, you all go ahead.”
The assistant had expected this answer. After saying goodbye, they watched him leave. For the past few days, the end of work had always coincided with dinner time, and each day they would ask him the same question, only to get the same answer. They had already guessed that he probably had something else to do after work.
But unlike the assistant’s guess, Xu Sinian had nothing in particular to do—he just went home.
After walking through the old neighborhood a few times, he had memorized the route. Every day was the same. As he passed by the locksmith shop, he glanced at the closed door.
Beyond the locksmith shop was the residential building.
He climbed the stairs, the only sound being his steady footsteps.
His neighbor seemed to have a special ability, always managing to open the door precisely when Xu Sinian reached the last flight of stairs, greeting him with a “Good evening” and offering him a meal that could serve as breakfast.
As usual, he climbed the stairs.
This time, when he reached the top, the neighbor’s door didn’t open.
Standing in front of his own door, he glanced sideways at the old, worn door next to his, then looked away and took out his keys.
