Chapter 6: “Working Part-Time to Save Money”

Yu Chi’s obvious expression of disdain was so striking that Rong Hua found herself momentarily at a loss for words. It was a rare sight—Sheng Li usually attracted a lot of “little brother fans,” and this was the first time she had encountered a boy who showed her so little respect.

Glancing at Sheng Li’s mischievous eyes, Rong Hua deduced that Sheng Li probably just wanted to bully the kid. It didn’t seem like she had any ulterior motives.

“That still doesn’t work,” Rong Hua insisted firmly.

Sheng Li thought for a moment, then lied effortlessly: “He still has two or three months before school starts. You’ve heard about it before—he’s been working as an extra on set since he was in his early teens. Yesterday, he was even waiting for roles among the extras. Look at him—what can he possibly play? A corpse?” Ignoring Yu Chi’s cold expression, she continued with an air of righteousness, “Lying on the ground for hours in this summer heat would peel off layers of skin. He wants to earn some money during the summer break, and I’m helping him.”

After finishing, she raised an eyebrow at Yu Chi. “Right?”

Yu Chi responded numbly, “Yes, thank you.”

Rong Hua frowned, still wanting to say something.

“I’m not allowed to date, and now I’m not allowed to keep a young lover either. Life on set is so boring—can’t I have a little fun?” Sheng Li cut her off, pouting slightly with a tone of grievance. “You tolerate Lu Xingyu hooking up with fans on set, but here I am, not having done anything yet, and you’re already upset with me. Be careful—I might save up a big surprise for you.”

Rong Hua had spent the entire day fuming over Lu Xingyu’s antics, leaving her exhausted. “Fine, I don’t want to deal with you. Just know your limits.”

Sheng Li watched the car drive away, then turned around, intending to tease Yu Chi a bit more.

But he had already turned and walked off.

Walking so fast—are you afraid I’ll eat you?

________________________________________

The next morning, at 6:50 AM, Sheng Li sat in the makeup chair while the makeup artist carefully inspected her face. “There are still a few red spots left, but they won’t affect today’s look. The makeup will go on quickly.”

In the opening scenes of Jiangshan Scroll, Sheng Li’s character Yun Lansheng’s family was brutally massacred, and she was the sole survivor. This scene had already been filmed before Sheng Li was hospitalized. Now, they were moving on to the escape sequence. Since the character was fleeing for her life, there was no way she could look glamorous. Today, Sheng Li was dressed in men’s clothing, blending into a passing caravan of merchants, riding a horse to escape to a neighboring country.

Sheng Li tilted her head slightly upward, allowing the makeup artist to work on her face.

She glanced at her phone—it was already 7:05 AM, and Yu Chi hadn’t arrived yet. Had her words from yesterday scared him off?

An hour later, Sheng Li’s makeup was complete.

“Yu Chi, why are you standing outside?”

As soon as Sheng Li stood up, she heard Yuan Yuan call out from the doorway. Sheng Li looked over but couldn’t see even a glimpse of Yu Chi’s figure. She only heard his slightly low voice: “It’s inconvenient to go in. I’ll wait out here. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Yuan Yuan hesitated, unsure what to do, and turned to ask, “Li Li…”

Sheng Li walked to the door and saw Yu Chi leaning lazily against the frame. Today, he was wearing a black baseball cap, with one earbud in his ear and the other hanging down against his chest. His face was turned slightly away. Sheng Li looked at him and asked, “What time did you get here?”

Yu Chi’s gaze lingered on her for a few seconds before he turned to look ahead, speaking indifferently: “7:00.”

“So why didn’t you say anything?”

“Chirp.”

“….”

Sheng Li froze for a second, then burst into laughter, collapsing onto Yuan Yuan.

Yuan Yuan took a few seconds to process, then joined in with hearty laughter.

Yu Chi frowned. Wasn’t she the one who told him to chirp?

“How can you be so cute,” Sheng Li laughed until tears nearly came out, thoroughly enjoying Yu Chi’s annoyed expression. She felt increasingly wise for keeping him around as an assistant.

The makeup artist walked over and asked with a smile, “Who’s this?”

Sheng Li sobered up and said earnestly, “This younger brother just finished the college entrance exam. He wants to work part-time on set during the summer to save money. Sister Rong arranged for him to assist me during this period.” Seeing Yu Chi’s sour expression, she waved generously, “Go wait with the director for now.”

Yu Chi didn’t want to stay a moment longer. He nodded and walked away immediately.

The evening before last, Yu Chi had come to the set, and most people present had seen him. But seeing him again now, everyone was curious about what he was doing here. However, he stood outside the shooting area—he didn’t have a work permit, so he wasn’t allowed inside.

It wasn’t until Sheng Li and Yuan Yuan came from the makeup room that they brought him in.

Regarding Yu Chi, Yuan Yuan repeated Sheng Li’s fabricated story, adding a few embellishments of her own: “Because Yu Chi insisted on paying compensation for lost wages and damages, Li Li, seeing that he was still a student, said it was fine. But Yu Chi felt guilty, and since Sister Rong wanted to find another assistant for Li Li, she let him help out. That settled the matter.”

Once, Yu Chi happened to overhear this.

Even the assistant was a skilled liar. Looking at Sheng Li, he thought it’d be better to call her “Lotus White” instead of “Snow White.”

Around noon, when filming was about to wrap, Yu Chi didn’t want to bump into the delivery staff or let his mother and Jiang Dongmin know that he had been staying on set recently, so he put on his earphones and walked away.

Just as he reached the restroom door, he overheard someone chatting inside—the topic of conversation was none other than him.

A few local extras were smoking in the restroom with a production crew member.

One of the local extras said, “His dad isn’t his biological father, but his mom is. They say if you have a stepdad, you’ll also have a stepmom—that’s exactly the case with Yu Chi…” He paused, then added, “But Yu Chi’s a stubborn one. He refused to take money from his stepdad. At such a young age, he started working as an extra on set. Back then, we could only play background roles or corpses, earning very little—about a hundred yuan a day. But he was different. He had charisma and good looks. Whenever the crew needed a handsome young boy, they always called him to play roles like the male lead’s childhood self…”

Yu Chi stopped at the door, looking at the extra coolly. “Uncle Wu, you’re not Aunt Wu—why so nosy?”

Uncle Wu choked on his cigarette, laughing awkwardly. “Well… it’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you. I suddenly remembered some old stories and thought I’d share.”

After a while, the people who had been chatting left.

Yu Chi went in to wash his hands and then continued walking forward.

The crew had just finished shooting and was pushing the equipment toward this side.

He paused for a moment, looking ahead.

Sheng Li, dressed in men’s clothing, rode her horse over, looking incredibly dashing.

Filming period dramas in the summer was grueling. Shooting under the blazing sun for half a day was a huge test for actors. Sheng Li hadn’t filmed a period drama in June for a long time. She had a scene that required multiple retakes and had been exposed to the sun for two or three hours, leaving her feeling dizzy and disoriented.

Wei Cheng was also riding a horse beside her. He said something, but she didn’t catch it. Turning her head, she asked, “Brother Cheng, what did you say just now? Sorry, I didn’t hear clearly.”

“I was talking about Yu Chi, your new assistant,” Wei Cheng glanced in Yu Chi’s direction. “I remember now—six or seven years ago, I came here to film a movie. The crew hired a child extra to play my younger self. That kid was about twelve or thirteen. The director had him act in a few scenes, and he performed well—very talented. When I saw him the other day, I only thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place him. This morning, I heard the assistants talking and realized he used to work as an extra here. That’s when it clicked. He’s grown up, but his features haven’t changed much—they still carry traces of his younger self, which is why I thought he looked familiar.”

This revelation shocked Sheng Li awake. Quickly, she asked, “Which movie was it?”

“Flower Slaughter. The scene was only one or two minutes long in the final cut.” Wei Cheng smiled. “For an extra, that’s a huge opportunity. And he performed exceptionally well. At the time, I thought someone with a keen eye might sign him, but apparently not.”

Sheng Li glanced at Yu Chi, unsure how to react.

She… had assumed he could only play a corpse.

Wei Cheng continued, “Maybe someone approached him, or perhaps he didn’t want to enter this industry.”

“Perhaps.”

Sheng Li was full of doubts. Yu Chi was young, but his mind seemed deep and secretive.

Most people who worked with a big-name actor like Wei Cheng would brag about it. Not to mention, he had played Wei Cheng’s younger self! Even she had been thrilled for several nights after landing this role and learning she would act alongside Wei Cheng. Even if someone tried to stay low-key, wouldn’t they at least mention it?

When Sheng Li returned to the lounge, the first thing she did was stand in front of the air cooler, frantically reapplying sunscreen.

After finishing, she checked herself in the mirror. She looked fine, but she was still worried. “Yuan Yuan, did I get tanned?”

“No way. Last summer, you filmed by the beach for a month, and you barely got tanned.” Yuan Yuan looked up at her, then lowered her head to arrange lunch. Puzzled, she asked, “Li Li, you didn’t make Yu Chi do anything today. So why is he here?”

“I haven’t thought of anything yet,” Sheng Li said casually. “Didn’t Sister Rong say I was keeping a young lover? Let’s just keep him around for now.”

Yuan Yuan looked up. “…Yu Chi’s back.”

Sheng Li froze, then turned her head.

Sure enough, Yu Chi was standing outside the door, and judging by his expression, he had likely overheard her words.

“Come in and eat,” Sheng Li said nonchalantly, suddenly remembering something and smiling. “After lunch, help me rehearse lines.”

Yu Chi frowned but didn’t resist. He walked in and sat down.

Boys his age tended to have large appetites. He ate silently, clearly uninterested in interacting.

Sheng Li had been overheated earlier and now had little appetite, eating only half a bowl before setting it aside. She picked up her phone and searched for the cast list of Flower Slaughter. Typically, actors playing the male lead’s younger self would be credited.

Scrolling to the end, she didn’t find Yu Chi’s name anywhere.

However, she did find a small still image.

The photo’s resolution was poor, but at first glance, it did resemble Yu Chi. However, because it was in period costume, she wasn’t entirely certain. She looked down at the photo, then back up at Yu Chi, trying to match every feature of the young actor in the photo with Yu Chi’s face.

After a minute, Yu Chi, seemingly irritated by her stare, finally looked up at her. “Are you really interested in me? If you are, just say it. If you want to sleep with me, we can negotiate the price separately.”