QKYJ - 19

“You’re a really good actor.”

For Shen Zhi, she had heard such praise countless times.

After a series of “cut” calls hiding anger and impatience, the director stomped around in frame for several circles, waving his arms up and down a few times. He finally managed to suppress his bad mood, forcing a smile uglier than a cry, and with all his might, gently said, “Xiao Shi, you saw the message I sent you yesterday, didn’t you?”

The young, beautiful actress leaned against a lounge chair, softly humming as her assistant helped apply sunscreen to her arm. Hearing the director’s question, she reluctantly put down the fan and said sweetly, “Yes, I saw it!”

“Then why didn’t you reply?” The director hugged his chest with both hands.

“Oh! Did I not reply? Then I must have accidentally forgotten!” What was interesting was that someone who couldn’t act was very good at lying.

The director took a deep breath, then asked, “Xiao Shi, have you not memorized your lines?”

At this, Zhou Yushi, who moments ago had been on the verge of collapsing and complaining about aches all over, suddenly straightened her back and said very seriously, “I have memorized them!”

At this point, Shen Zhi had given up hope for continuing the shoot anytime soon, so she simply walked into her assistant’s umbrella, lowering her head to silently memorize the camera positions.

The director said, “How could you—”

Zhou Yushi immediately interrupted, seizing the initiative and upper hand, claiming them for herself: “If I hadn’t memorized them, what were all those things I just said? Director, you can educate me, but you can’t wrong me!”

The director, after all, still had his directorial dignity. Even if his experience as a top boss wasn’t entirely sufficient, he had still toiled with his predecessors for so many years.

He argued logically: “No, Xiao Shi, we have a historical background here. The script says ‘豈非當由我做主’ (Shouldn’t it be my decision?), and you said ‘就應該是我說了算’ (It should be me who calls the shots); the script says ‘家父特意關照過不許亂嚼舌’ (My father specifically instructed not to spread rumors), and you said ‘爸爸說了不要亂說話’ (Dad said don’t talk nonsense); the script says ‘無感我思使餘悲’ (I feel nothing, my thoughts cause lingering sorrow), this line from Phoenix Seeks Phoenix, you simply omitted it. How can this be?”

It was a somewhat comical scene, yet none of the various crew members showed any sign of amusement.

After all, for this short scene alone, everyone had already spent a whole afternoon under the sun.

And Shen Zhi, who was actually facing these lines moments ago, was lost in thought, while her assistant expressionlessly wiped her sweat.

The director was silent for a while.

Whether it was the location or the equipment, the rental budget had long been set, and there were also staff salaries and actors’ schedules, all of which amounted to cold hard cash.

Filming couldn’t afford delays.

As a production member of film and television works, the most hateful thing was watching the quality of one’s own film decline before their very eyes.

And being powerless to do anything.

They could only deduct points from the voice acting for this character.

Zhou Yushi was an investor’s pick, untouchable, unscoldable, and she was in the show from episode five all the way to episode fifty. Just thinking about it made one want to spit blood.

________________________________________

Filming was about to resume.

Shen Zhi walked up.

Zhou Yushi also got up. Accidentally, the juice can tilted, spilling some onto the hem of her skirt.

Qing Meng respected historical facts, adhering to perfectionism in its research. The costumes were specially custom-made, and each piece for the main characters was highly expensive.

In the current scene, Shen Zhi’s character was a new widow, and Zhou Yushi’s character was a concubine’s daughter in the family; both were wearing mourning attire.

A pristine white costume paired with green candied fruit was both eye-catching and peculiar, as if they were going to a Halloween party.

It almost made the cameramen and good sisters behind the lens furious.

“It’s alright, isn’t it?” Zhou Yushi’s manager stepped forward and said frankly, “Isn’t there someone with the same costume as hers? Just change into another one.”

“This—” the costume assistant started to say.

Where would they find an identical costume? They would have to sew and alter it on site.

However, the director, with a livid face, told her, “Go.”

His eyes held comfort.

He was also helpless. What could he do? They would demand compensation afterwards. The current scene had to be shot.

Most importantly, his gaze shifted, still anxiously falling on Shen Zhi.

Shen Zhi was, after all, a quasi-first-tier actress, Liangyi’s top star, and a powerhouse. Any film from her resume was a solid commercial and artistic success.

She had only lowered her fee to take this role out of personal connection.

And now she had to deal with such a co-star.

The director was extremely anxious and hesitating when he saw Shen Zhi looking his way.

She smiled slightly.

In plain white clothes, with black hair, and a slightly颓废, pathetic look after losing her husband, Shen Zhi carried the role perfectly.

She said very frankly, “It’s not easy for anyone, so let’s rest for a bit longer.”

Not angry at all, as if not bothered in the slightest.

No one wanted to get involved in such a situation.

Shen Zhi knew that very well.

Seeing Zhou Yushi, she couldn’t help but recall the slaps she endured, the cold water she soaked in, and the sadness she felt when filming in her early years.

And the lead actress who made her suffer such grievances back then had long disappeared into the crowd, no one knew where.

Most of them don’t last long.

But such people will never disappear.

In the entertainment industry, in the workplace, in this world.

Zhou Yushi turned twice towards Shen Zhi, her face beaming with a happy smile, saying, “I’m sorry, senior. You’ve been with me for so long, and we still can’t get it right.”

As she spoke, she leaned closer to Shen Zhi’s ear, deliberately playing coy, and whispered, “It’s all the director’s fault! He’s too strict with me!”

Throughout, Shen Zhi maintained a half-smile.

“It’s alright,” she said.

While Zhou Yushi went to change clothes, the cameraman poked his head out and straightforwardly said, “Teacher Shen, there’s no need to be so polite, is there? If it weren’t for her, we would have finished long ago. It’s truly infuriating—”

Shen Zhi slightly raised her hand, signaling him to stop talking.

“It’s fine,” she said again, still with an indifferent expression, “It really is fine.”

________________________________________

Shen Zhi had already eaten dinner when she met the person with whom she would be spending the night.

This way of phrasing it might be a bit morbid, but rushing through a night shoot was genuinely not a pleasant experience, so she could only find some humor internally.

The curtains Shen Zhi ordered online arrived, so she had to trouble Shen He to pick up the package, and while she was at it, she updated him on her day’s schedule, venting a little to elicit sympathy.

Unfortunately, Shen He completely missed the point and blurted out, “Why is it such a rush now?”

“I’m not sure,” Shen Zhi said. “It seems it’s because the schedule of that kid acting with me is too tight.”

Shen He sent a sticker expressing utter despair.

After a while, he asked with great curiosity, “Which kid is it that makes our Female Teacher Shen adjust her time for him?”

Shen Zhi yawned, was called for touch-ups, and typed casually, “It’s everyone’s responsibility to care for the younger generation.”

He didn’t reply after that.

She, however, looked at her phone a few more times.

The content filmed at night was from a completely different timeline than the daytime. Shen Zhi changed into a thin shirt, wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in the cooled night.

The director was talking to her when Cheng Ruiyi arrived.

The term “handsome and gentle” suited him well.

The young male idol had very fair skin, bright eyes, and a slender build. He had already been styled and walked over to greet the people around him. Besides Zhou Yushi, he was the other person who had missed the script reading session.

She couldn’t say she had a bad impression, as many drama reading sessions are indeed superficial these days. But she also couldn’t deny that she often felt out of touch with the times; the pace was getting faster and faster, and the criteria for judging artists were becoming more and more subtle.

However, Cheng Ruiyi quickly dispelled most people’s prejudices.

Before filming, he specifically sought out Shen Zhi.

“I’ve caused you a lot of trouble, senior, I’m truly sorry,” Cheng Ruiyi bowed.

Shen Zhi was slightly startled, her gaze involuntarily measuring him. These days, it was rare to see someone bow a perfect ninety degrees.

“Not at all,” she said softly.

Cheng Ruiyi stood before her, the young man like a clock, standing still, hands clasped together. He had said all he needed to say, yet showed no sign of leaving.

Shen Zhi waited for a while, thought, and then suggested, “Should we go over the script beforehand?”

“Ah, good!” he immediately replied, his young face seeming to light up instantly.

In Qing Meng, Shen Zhi plays a woman who becomes a widow soon after marriage. She is forced to face many threats: elders from the ancestral temple, her husband’s concubine, and the children her husband left behind.

Cheng Ruiyi’s character is one of her sons.

A woman who was only old enough to be a sister was forced to adopt the demeanor of a mother. Shen Zhi put a lot of effort into the character relationships. Now, with the co-star right in front of her, she simply explained everything in detail, discussing it mutually, which helped with common understanding and would make formal filming smoother.

Unexpectedly, Cheng Ruiyi, despite being a singing and dancing artist and a novice in acting, had his own clear ideas.

Moreover, he worked harder than anyone had imagined.

“I’ve already caused everyone to work overtime; if I trouble you more, I really won’t be able to lift my head,” the young man said politely. Afterwards, he even specifically ordered bubble tea delivery, with everyone getting a share.

Shen Zhi didn’t dare to drink it, so she gave it to her assistant.

At this, even the assistant, who had previously had quite a few reservations about Cheng Ruiyi, fell silent.

She was sitting, tidying her hair, when a figure suddenly appeared beside her. Looking up, Shen Zhi saw Cheng Ruiyi again.

For some reason, he had come over again, like a Nutcracker, a bit stiff, but very handsome.

Meeting her gaze, Cheng Ruiyi’s eyes darted away slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Shen Zhi asked.

She thought the boy might need help.

“Actually, I... used to be with Liangyi too,” Cheng Ruiyi finally managed to blurt out.

She asked, “Hmm?”

“I was recruited into J3 by a Liangyi agent before,” J3 is a subsidiary company of Liangyi in partnership with other companies, specializing in idol artists. It has gradually grown in recent years and achieved considerable success. Cheng Ruiyi continued, “I was originally training with the members of SHITO, but in the two years leading up to our debut, I was squeezed out by new trainees who were parachuted in, which left me a bit disheartened, so I went to another company.”

His speech was somewhat halting, and Shen Zhi felt surprised.

It’s normal for reactions to be a bit delayed when facing public figures. But Cheng Ruiyi himself was a public figure. She heard he was currently very popular, with countless fans and his group being highly acclaimed.

Perhaps he’s not used to talking to women alone? Shen Zhi wondered. She had heard Hua Zichen say before that children raised as idols from a young age often lacked social skills, especially with the opposite sex.

“I grew up watching your dramas—” As soon as he said this, Cheng Ruiyi realized it was inappropriate and quickly corrected himself, “I mean, I’ve watched many of your dramas.”

“Hmm,” Shen Zhi didn’t mind, smiling as she replied, “This time we have a chance to act together.”

The polite pleasantries ended there, and Shen Zhi still wanted to go over the script. However, the script supervisor came in to say hello. Shen Zhi’s assistant responded, and at the same time, Cheng Ruiyi also nodded with a calm expression.

Then, Cheng Ruiyi followed them.

________________________________________

Facing the female staff member, he said very naturally, “Could you please find me another script? I’ve drawn too much in this one.” When the other person was about to leave, he added, without any formality, “Do you have a red pen?”

Until the other party left, he turned around, just meeting the overly curious gazes of a few female extras. He brazenly scrutinized them for a moment, then flashed an impeccable smile.

It was an expression honed through training, making dealing with women seem commonplace.

However, he had no further intentions.

Cheng Ruiyi recently wasn’t interested in women, unless the object was a specific person. If it were that person, whether it meant feigning innocence or acting like a clingy puppy through his acting, anything was fine, as long as it allowed him to get closer to her.

It was almost time to wrap up. Shen Zhi was stretching her shoulders and neck when her assistant said before leaving, “I have a message.”

She glanced at it; it was from Shen He. He sent a picture of curtains and said, “Although it’s not yellow, this isn’t blue, is it?”

Indeed, it wasn’t.

She looked closely; it was almost red. She had picked it out for a long time, how could the color difference be so great? Shen Zhi thought it was a prank and immediately made a video call.

Shen He answered, and then she saw the usual straight-guy selfie angle Shen He used. The annoying thing was, this guy looked good from any angle, truly a face picked by the big screen.

There was no need for them to put on airs.

Shen Zhi casually propped up her legs, eating as she said, “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

“Why would I lie to you?” The background on Shen He’s end was moving, suggesting he was walking.

Soon he arrived downstairs and showed her the unpacked parcel.

Shen Zhi was watching when a clear male voice suddenly sounded from behind her: “You really know how to make trouble—”

The night was deep. Cheng Ruiyi had just finished a scene of “the dandy and the maid’s first intimate encounter,” emerging shirtless from among the onlookers. In his haste, he mistakenly went to the wrong makeup trailer.

Seeing Shen Zhi lazily lying on the bed, and then a disheveled handsome young man suddenly appearing behind her, the image on Shen He’s end seemed to freeze.

Who knew how much time had passed, when Shen He suddenly raised an eyebrow.

“What were you two doing?” he asked.