The Stand-in Side Character Only Wants to Make Money – CH91

Chapter 91: Prospective Boyfriend (Part 1)

His gaze wandered, and his voice was soft, but his delivery was clear enough for everyone to hear every word.

“Mm,” said the agent, “Mm?”

Assistant: “Huh?”

For a moment, all three of them stared at Chen Bai in shock.

Caught between disbelief and checking if he was joking, the agent immediately pulled out her phone, her heart racing as she checked whether the PR drafts she’d prepared earlier were still intact.

Luckily, all versions of her PR drafts were still there, and her heart was spared.

After glancing at the time on her phone, she calculated carefully and said, “You’ve got over an hour until the next scene, so you’ve got time to explain what happened.”

The two assistants perked up, eager to listen.

“So, here’s the thing,” Chen Bai began, unconsciously tapping the side of his thermos. He cautiously started, “I have a friend.”

“?”

The agent stared at him for two seconds before waving her hand, “Just say it’s your friend, continue.”

Chen Bai screwed the lid of his thermos shut and stuffed it into his arms. “Last night, my friend kissed his good friend.”

A short sentence, every word of it was critical. One of the assistants nearly slipped off his stool in surprise.

The agent’s eyebrows shot up as she scrutinized Chen Bai’s evasive gaze, clearly holding back a flood of thoughts.

Chen Bai was definitely up to something. No wonder he hadn’t shared any new memes with her last night, unlike his usual self.

But she didn’t expect him to be making moves in secret.

No wonder his acting had improved dramatically today. It wasn’t that he suddenly became a fast learner—it was that he’d had some practical experience, unbeknownst to her.

Pushing aside all other questions, she finally asked, “Who made the first move?”

Before waiting for an answer, she waved her hand again, “Never mind, forget I asked.”

The answer was obvious.

She had been wondering how Xu Sinian had managed to hold back for so long. Apparently, he hadn’t.

After thinking about it, the agent nodded, “It was about time.”

If he hadn’t made a move, they would have had to shoot the kissing scene today, and even a saint couldn’t hold back forever.

Chen Bai was still in the middle of his confession, though with a hint of self-defense. “I didn’t mean to bite him.”

“?”

The agent felt like this wasn’t the key issue here. “How did you let him kiss you in the first place?”

Chen Bai ruffled his hair. “I didn’t realize it was happening.”

The agent looked at him. “What if you had realized?”

Chen Bai tapped his thermos twice and said, “It’s not like kissing him would hurt.”

He didn’t want his good friend to feel uncomfortable. If his friend really wanted it, he didn’t mind cooperating.

Though, in hindsight, Xu Sinian nearly did get hurt from his bite.

Great, so it wasn’t just one kiss.

Having gotten to this point, the story was clear. The agent concluded that Chen Bai’s brain was a hundred percent chaos—like even a zombie would spit him out after a bite. She thought his friend had missed an opportunity; given Chen Bai’s temperament, if Xu Sinian had done something even more outrageous at that moment, he probably wouldn’t have refused.

There was no point asking for more details—it wouldn’t be good for her heart. She originally planned to revise her PR draft, but then she noticed Chen Bai’s still-drifting gaze and put her phone away again. “What else happened last night?”

Caught by surprise, Chen Bai, who had planned to keep the rest of the events to himself, widened his eyes. “How did you know, Sister Qian?”

The two assistants couldn’t help but look away, no longer able to watch this man who clearly couldn’t keep a secret.

The agent simply said, “Just a guess.”

Then she asked, “So, what else happened?”

Chen Bai then quietly shared more about his “boyfriend situation.”

“…”

Every word from Chen Bai’s mouth today was more shocking than the last. Unsure where to start, the agent and assistants shared a moment of respectful silence for him.

It turns out that it wasn’t this person silently making big moves, but rather that good friend of his, secretly taking action.

Sister Qian thought it over for a while and ended up with just one thought: it was a good thing she asked.

With this person’s clueless brain, if no one brought it up, that good friend might be waiting for a lifetime and still never get an answer.

Feeling her legs go a bit numb, she shifted her position and asked, “So what are you thinking?”

“I still haven’t paid off my debt; there’s three hundred million hanging over my head.”

Chen Bai bent down and pulled up a blade of grass from the ground, saying just as before, “I’m not thinking about this until I pay off my debt.”

The agent sensed what he was implying and followed up, “So, you’re planning to reject him?”

Chen Bai’s eyes shot wide open, “How could I reject him!”

He dropped the grass he’d just pulled up and stuffed it back into the ground. “If I reject him, he’d definitely be heartbroken.”

Hearing this, the agent chuckled and turned to the assistant, “What did I tell you before?”

The assistant gave a thumbs up.

Exactly the same, spot-on prediction.

The agent said, “So, you’re agreeing to him?”

Chen Bai replied, “But I’ve got that three hundred million…”

Dealing with such a difficult person, who kept circling back to the same point, the agent gently smacked him on the head.

It was the perfect amount of force—just enough to stun him without hurting his brain. Rubbing his head, Chen Bai lowered it again, deep in thought, while patting the dirt back over the grass he had replanted.

Looking at the apartment complex in the distance, where filming had resumed, the agent said, “Your friend has to leave after this scene. If you want to say goodbye, you should keep track of the time.”

Chen Bai looked up, “Huh?”

He knew he was about to finish all his scenes and leave for his next project, but he thought that was happening tomorrow.

The agent glanced at him, “You didn’t look at this morning’s schedule, did you?”

She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and brought up the crew’s announcement. “You’re leaving tomorrow, but your friend has to leave after this scene to head to Wei Town to film a scene about investigating a missing tenant’s hometown. Didn’t you look at this morning’s notice at all?”

Chen Bai modestly replied, “Barely.”

He took the phone and looked at the schedule the agent had shown him.

Sure enough, his friend was leaving today, right after finishing this scene, heading further south to shoot for about three to four weeks. By the time his friend returned, Chen Bai would be off to another production.

After taking a final glance, Chen Bai handed the phone back.

The scene upstairs took a while to shoot, with several retakes for various reasons. By the time it was finally finished, daylight had fully arrived.

Aside from Chen Bai, who hadn’t been checking messages, everyone else in the crew knew that Xu Sinian and another actor, along with part of the crew, were heading to another location after this shoot, so they began packing up right after the scene ended.

Actors didn’t have much to prepare, but the staff was busy transferring equipment, with people bustling about.

Amid the commotion, Xu Sinian took a sip of water.

The director wasn’t going with them; the assistant director would be in charge, so Xu Sinian didn’t need an elaborate farewell. He was just planning to say a few polite words, but when he saw Chen Bai downstairs, smiling and waving, he immediately focused his attention there.

Pale skin gleaming in the sunlight, Chen Bai stood there, smiling with eyes full of warmth.

Well then, the director figured he didn’t need to say anything after all.

Xu Sinian headed downstairs, stepping from the shadow of the building into the sunlight.

As soon as he got close, his arm was struck with a blow that had strength but caused zero damage.

Chen Bai, having tricked him into coming downstairs with a fake smile, took advantage of the moment to land a sudden blow. Then he looked up with wide eyes and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving today?”

He wanted to pull his usual trick of accusing his friend of being distant, but he didn’t get the chance. Xu Sinian saw through his plan and spoke first, “I was going to tell you last night.”

But then they got caught up doing something else last night.

Chen Bai “…”

Chen Bai lowered his head and thought for a second, then decided to move on to the words of advice he had been planning to give.

Normally, he never gave advice, but this time he mimicked the tone of Mrs. Jiang and Mr. Xu.

Xu Sinian listened and chuckled softly.

On the other side, the assistant had finished getting everything ready, and the car was waiting by the roadside. Xu Sinian lowered his head and raised his hand, but after pausing for a moment, he rested it on Chen Bai’s shoulder instead, saying, “I’m off.”

Different roles come with different boundaries, and he had prepared himself to lose the privileges he once had as a close friend.

Chen Bai glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then looked up at his good neighbor. After a brief moment of thought, he suddenly jumped up, launching himself like a missile, arms reaching around Xu Sinian’s neck in a full embrace.

The weight of Chen Bai caught Xu Sinian off guard, causing him to step back half a pace. He looked down and stabilized the person clinging to him.

Chen Bai patted his back and said, “Next time, remember to bend down—standing on tiptoe is tiring.”

He thought for a moment and added, “Or maybe you could get shorter.”

Xu Sinian laughed softly, bending down to hug him tighter, and replied, “Alright.”

Chen Bai’s face pressed into Xu Sinian’s familiar-smelling shoulder, sunlight filtering through his eyelashes, casting a faint glow into his light gray eyes. He patted Xu Sinian’s back again, “Take care.”

Meanwhile, the second-floor corridor, which had been emptying out, was now crowded with people again, peeking down at them.

The director rubbed his nearly bald head, turned to the producer, and said in a somewhat chilly voice, “With the sun this bright, why do I feel so cold inside?”

The producer, having seen it all, replied with a tone of resignation, “It’s pointless.”

“…”

The only one who truly felt cold and thought the world had lost its meaning was the actor, who was also heading to Wei Town to film, but with no one hugging him goodbye.

Chen Bai only hugged for a moment before letting go. As he straightened up, he noticed a group of people on the second floor watching them.

Seeing the crowd, he cautiously whispered, “Why are they all up there watching?”

He added, “Don’t they have friends of their own?”

Xu Sinian “…”

The assistant, who had just walked over to remind him that they could leave, heard this last part and nearly stumbled over nothing.

The great actor Xu Sinian left under the watchful eyes of the producer and director, with a small wave from Chen Bai.

The agent remarked sharply, “The two of you act like it’s some tragic farewell.”

After finishing his scenes that day, Chen Bai had one more half-day of filming the next day, officially wrapping up his part in the project.

The day before had been bright and sunny, but on the day he left, it started to rain. Thankfully, it was an indoor shoot, so the weather didn’t interfere.

According to the forecast, this area had entered the rainy season, with frequent showers of various intensities.

At noon, he had a simple meal with the crew, and by the afternoon, he was on his way home, catching a flight and returning to City A by evening.

As soon as he landed, before the driver could arrive, Mrs. Jiang and Mr. Xu whisked him away. Accompanying them was Chen Yi Wan, who literally launched into him like a cannonball, crashing into him without a word.

There were only a few days between his break and starting his next project. In those few days, he managed to gain back some of the weight he’d lost on set.

He gained a little, and then it was time to enter the next production.

This new project was estimated to last four or five months, with a filming pace similar to the previous one, ‘Record of Blossoms’. He quickly adapted to the rhythm.

Unlike his previous small antagonist role, this time he played the second male lead, with a role nearly as prominent as the main lead. The pay was higher, and it was clear that the production company was hoping he would help draw in a box office crowd.

More screen time, more pay, and naturally, more work. He barely had time for casual chatting, spending most of his days filming and reviewing the script.

After about two weeks of non-stop work, he finally got a day off, but the schedule was packed until then, from morning until night.

The main actor, a man in his thirties or forties, shared the grueling schedule. The two of them rarely had time off and often found themselves sitting on small stools with thermos bottles in hand, smiling wearily and wishing the world would end.

But the world didn’t end, and work didn’t stop.

To make matters worse, just as they were about to head back to the hotel, it started pouring rain—so heavy that the roads became hard to see. Everyone huddled inside the filming set, watching helplessly as the rain continued to fall.

Chen Yi Bai, however, remained calm. He sat by a second-floor window, took a picture of the rain outside with his phone, and sent it to his friends.

The agent, with nothing to do, watched him curiously. He seemed to send the photo to multiple people at once. She didn’t look closely but could tell that he’d selected several contacts.

This was what it meant to be a social genius. If she didn’t know he was as dense as a brick, she might have thought he was cultivating relationships like some sort of social butterfly.

Noticing her glance, Chen Bai explained, “I’m showing it to Auntie Jiang and the others.”

He wasn’t in City A or the southern region where he’d been before, but somewhere further west. His phone’s weather app tracked three different locations, and he often checked them. That morning, he had seen that City A had no rain.

It had been sunny there for nearly a month, so he sent the photo to show them the rainy weather where he was.

The agent looked at the rain in his photo, then out the window at the downpour. “We might be stuck here for a while.”

She turned to ask, “How’s the weather on your friend’s end? Is it still raining?”

“It is. This morning they issued a heavy rain warning.”

Chen Bai checked the weather app again and saw that the warning had escalated to an extreme rain alert.

The agent raised her eyebrows, “Looks like they won’t be able to work today.”

Chen Bai nodded. He hadn’t received a reply to the photo he’d just sent, so he opened the pinned chat and typed out another message.

As he sent the message, the agent suddenly remembered something and asked, “It’s been over two weeks. Have you figured out how to respond to your friend?”

Chen Bai blinked, his expression conveying a serene resignation to fate: “Not yet.”

The agent understood. “Looks like your friend will be waiting forever.”

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait forever. The rain eased up a bit, visibility on the roads improved, and the crew was able to return to the hotel.

It was after 10 p.m. by the time they got back. After showering, it was almost 11. Wearing his pajamas, Chen Bai lay down in bed and reached for his phone to check his messages.

The messages he’d sent earlier had already been replied to, and a few others had also sent him messages. However, there was still no response from his top pinned contact.

Glancing at the time in the upper-right corner of the screen, he turned over in bed. Sitting up, he made a phone call.

Beep—

[The number you have dialed is either out of the service area or has been turned off…]

The call didn’t go through, and the phone automatically hung up.

Slowly, he got up from bed, put on his slippers, and walked to the balcony. Leaning on the railing, the overhang above blocked the rain, and only the night breeze reached him.

He tried calling another number, this time his friend’s assistant.

Again, no one answered.

Just as he was about to call the assistant director who had traveled with them for filming, a message notification popped up.

It wasn’t from his good neighbor, but from another pinned contact.

[Are you asleep?]

Chen Bai looked down and replied to the message.

Within minutes, there was a knock at his door.

The agent had returned after finishing some work. She hadn’t changed into her pajamas yet and was still wearing the clothes from earlier, gulping down a drink of water as she walked into the room.

Chen Bai looked at her and asked after she quickly finished drinking her water, “Is something wrong?”

The agent put down the glass, took out her phone, and said, “Let me show you a message.”

Chen Bai didn’t quite understand what kind of message required face-to-face viewing, but he leaned in anyway.

“Try not to get too emotional after you read it.”

After this preemptive warning, and seeing him nod in acknowledgment, the agent opened a push notification.

The message was brief and official, only two or three short lines.

A southern city was experiencing heavy rain, and a river had breached its banks in a town. Authorities were working on rescue efforts.

The town was Wei Town, the place where the film crew was located.

Without lingering on the message, the agent quickly stowed her phone away and glanced at Chen Bai’s expression.

She hadn’t expected to come across such news. It was probably because she had searched that place’s name earlier for some reason, and the internet algorithm had just happened to push it to her while she was looking at her phone.

Contrary to her initial expectations, Chen Bai was very calm. After taking a look, he pulled out his phone and said, “I’ll call the assistant director.”

The agent agreed.

As with the previous two calls, the assistant director’s phone was still unreachable, showing as outside the service area.

The agent then lowered her head and opened her own phone, saying, “I saved the director’s contact, so I’ll check with him.”

The director’s phone wasn’t out of the service area, but it kept showing as engaged. It wasn’t until the third call that it finally connected.

Others were clearly trying to reach him too, as the director immediately started explaining before Chen Bai could say anything. He said there was no new information for the time being, but the last message from the assistant director indicated that the crew had wrapped up early due to the rain and was in a safe place. If nothing unexpected occurred, everything should be fine. The phone signal issue was likely due to the local cell towers malfunctioning.

His speech was smooth, clearly something he had repeated many times already.

Before the call ended, Chen Bai asked, “When was the last message sent?”

The director said it was four hours ago.

Another call came in for the director, so he quickly reassured Chen Bai not to worry and hung up.

After the call ended, the agent breathed a sigh of relief and said, “So it’s just a problem with the towers. As long as they’re safe, that’s what matters.”

But as she turned her head, she saw that Chen Bai, who had been standing beside her, was already walking toward the bedroom and pulling on the coat that was lying on the bed.

Pausing for a moment, she asked, “Are you heading out?”

Chen Bai replied affirmatively, looking at his phone and saying, “The last message came in four hours ago, but Old Xu messaged me three hours ago.”

And from three hours ago until now, there had been no further messages.

That meant that after reaching the safe location, the other person had gone somewhere else, somewhere where they still had a signal. Cell tower coverage in rural towns is more sparse than in cities, with one tower covering an area of about three to five kilometers.

For some reason, he must have gone a few kilometers away, and then something happened there, cutting off the signal.

The crew was safe four hours ago, but three hours ago, it might not have been the same.

Gao Qian “…”

The agent watched him tap his phone a few more times, and a far-fetched idea crept into her mind. She asked, “So what are you doing now?”

Chen Bai looked up and said, “I’m booking a flight.”

Both airports were experiencing heavy rain, but not enough to disrupt flights, so tickets were still available.

His long lashes cast a shadow over his face, his eyes calm and clear, without a trace of panic—just pure composure.

Gao Qian “?”

The more calmly he spoke, the more shocked the agent became. Her eyes slowly widened, and she asked, “Do you realize how far it is?”

Then she added, “It’s already eleven-thirty.”

It was eleven-thirty at night. It would take half an hour to get to the airport, several hours to fly, and by the time he arrived and transferred to a car, the entire night would be gone.

“I know.”

After a few taps, he finished booking the ticket. The money was deducted from his account without him blinking an eye, and he said, “It’s precisely because it’s far that I want to go.”

Rather than waiting for news, he preferred to go and see for himself, to get closer.

He hadn’t gone to see his parents off the day they had their accident. He had stayed at home and watched their car leave, thinking that by waiting, they would return. This trip might be pointless, but he wanted to go.

After booking his flight, he went to the entryway, changed his shoes, and grabbed his ID and some cash. “Sister Qian, get some rest,” he said.

From the moment he hung up the phone to the moment he opened the door, less than three minutes had passed. Chen Bai had already left.