Three hours later, Xu Xiu and her colleagues had already finished all the extras’ makeup and styling.
After such a long time without this level of workload, Xu Xiu finally had a break and sat aside, rubbing her wrist.
Another colleague, an older woman named Sister Qi, handed her a bottle of mineral water.
“Tired?”
Xu Xiu took it and thanked her. The two of them chatted casually.
After becoming a bit more familiar, Sister Qi couldn’t help but start complaining.
“Doing makeup for extras is tiring, sure, but it’s only physical exhaustion—you can push through it. The real suffering is with the lead makeup artists.”
Sister Qi gestured toward the filming set, where a makeup artist was standing behind a supporting actress.
That makeup artist’s eyes were already red from being scolded.
Xu Xiu recalled the actress throwing the tantrum. It was Jiang Yumeng, who had risen to fame two years ago through a short drama.
However, she hadn’t had many good works afterward and had been stuck in supporting roles.
In this production, she was playing a noble and glamorous favored consort.
“Even though she’s only the second female lead, her attitude is bigger than the lead actress’s. She’s extremely demanding—every single strand of hair has to be done exactly her way.”
Xu Xiu frowned.
“Does the director just let her do that?”
From what she remembered, the director of this drama was quite capable. He shouldn’t be so powerless.
Sister Qi leaned closer mysteriously.
“It’s said Jiang Yumeng’s boyfriend is one of the investors. She came in with funding, so of course the director has to be polite.”
As they were talking, Jiang Yumeng suddenly exploded.
“Do you even know how to do makeup? I already said this strand hanging down can only be exactly nine hairs! Can’t you understand human language?!”
The set instantly fell silent, and everyone looked over.
Jiang Yumeng waved her hand impatiently.
“Leave, leave. You don’t need to work on me anymore.”
The makeup artist looked relieved and quickly ran off.
Jiang Yumeng then glanced toward the makeup artist rest area.
Xu Xiu was just watching the scene unfold when Jiang Yumeng suddenly pointed in her direction.
“You. Yes, you. From now on, you’ll do my makeup.”
“……”
Xu Xiu looked around helplessly and realized Sister Qi had disappeared at some point—she was the only one sitting there.
With no choice, she walked forward.
Jiang Yumeng’s expression wasn’t good as she repeated her request:
“Lift my crown area a bit higher. One strand of hair on the left must hang down—nine hairs exactly, not more, not less. Otherwise my face will look big. Understand?”
Xu Xiu said she understood and began working according to her instructions.
It wasn’t actually difficult technically. The problem was that this was a historical palace drama, and lifting the crown area too high made it lose classical beauty. The loose strand of hair also looked too casual, lacking the dignified aura of a palace consort.
After finishing, Jiang Yumeng clearly noticed something was off and became even more irritated.
After thinking for a moment, Xu Xiu suggested:
“In fact, to make the face look smaller, you don’t necessarily need to rely on covering it. There are other ways.”
In her original world, she had handled many similar cases during her work.
To her, it wasn’t difficult at all.
Jiang Yumeng looked at her in the mirror and sneered.
“What, are you going to use heavy contouring?”
Hearing “contouring,” Jiang Yumeng got even angrier.
Last time she attended a red carpet event, she used heavy shadow on both cheeks to make her face look smaller, and ended up being mocked online.
People said her face looked like an unblended paint palette, and some even said she looked like she was performing opera.
Xu Xiu understood her concern and smiled slightly.
“Highlighter can also adjust facial structure. Hairstyling can too.”
In truth, anyone who could act wouldn’t have an unusually large face. Compared to modern standards of ultra-small V-shaped faces, Jiang Yumeng was just slightly more rounded.
But that was actually her strength.
In costume dramas—especially as a noble consort—this type of face added dignity and presence.
Perhaps it was Xu Xiu’s confident tone that influenced Jiang Yumeng. She put down the mirror and looked at her.
“Then I’ll give you a chance. If you do well, I’ll give you an extra big bonus. If you don’t, you can leave immediately.”
Xu Xiu smiled.
“Okay.”
She stepped forward and gently lifted Jiang Yumeng’s chin to observe her carefully.
Jiang Yumeng had excellent features—great skin and good bone structure—but she wasn’t the trendy small V-face type, so she looked a bit disadvantaged on camera.
After forming a plan, Xu Xiu began working.
She redid the makeup and slightly adjusted the hairstyle, adding two elongated hairpins to modify the facial proportions.
When she finished, Jiang Yumeng picked up the mirror again—and froze for a moment.
For a second, she thought the mirror had a beauty filter.
Her eyebrows had been reshaped into soft willow-leaf brows. Her high nose bridge stood out beautifully thanks to highlight and blush, yet looked perfectly natural on her face.
The layered accessories in her hair were arranged elegantly—not messy or overwhelming, but instead exuding refined luxury.
At a glance, it was obvious she was a favored consort, perfectly matching her role.
Most importantly, her face no longer looked big at all—it had just the right dignified presence.
The more Jiang Yumeng looked, the more satisfied she became.
She immediately transferred a five-figure bonus to Xu Xiu.
Xu Xiu stared at the amount in surprise.
This was even more than she could earn from the entire crew.
Fine. If that’s the case, she didn’t mind putting up with Jiang Yumeng’s pickiness.
After all, who could say no to money?
Besides, as long as her demands were met, Jiang Yumeng actually seemed quite easy to please.
After filming officially began, the director was extremely satisfied with Jiang Yumeng’s look.
Finally, it matched the palace aesthetic—no more modern influencer-style makeup!
He specifically asked who had done the makeup. Seeing it was a unfamiliar young woman, he silently noted it down.
While Jiang Yumeng went to film, Xu Xiu sat in the shade nearby.
As the weather grew hotter, she fanned herself lightly and casually scanned the set—only to unexpectedly meet someone’s gaze.
The other person noticed her looking and smiled slightly before lowering her head back to the script, as if it had been an accidental glance.
That was the drama’s female lead, Tang Xu.
Xu Xiu smiled back.
But after withdrawing her gaze, a hint of confusion flashed in her eyes.
If she wasn’t mistaken, Tang Xu seemed to have been observing her for a while.
But no matter how she searched her memory, they shouldn’t have met before.
Could it be that she recognized her from the previous airplane incident?
Xu Xiu wasn’t sure.
However, Tang Xu’s styling in this drama was much more low-key.
Not because she was being deliberately suppressed, but because of her character setting.
At the beginning, she played an unfavored minor consort—no luxurious outfits, no extravagant accessories, only a simple pale flower pinned in her hair.
She did look somewhat pitiful and delicate, like a plain white flower.
But standing next to Jiang Yumeng—who looked like she was dressed in blooming splendor from head to toe—she inevitably seemed rather dim in comparison.
After looking for a moment, Xu Xiu suddenly felt a sense of familiarity from Tang Xu.
Tang Xu reminded her of someone.
The female lead of the novel—Lin Yaoqiao.
Not so much in appearance, but in temperament.
The same fragility, the same delicate and pitiful aura, like a white flower.
Only Lin Yaoqiao still carried a hint of spoiled young-lady arrogance, while Tang Xu seemed even softer and more fragile.
Before she could think further, her phone vibrated.
Seeing that it was a call from Xu Zhirang, and worried it might be something important, she stood up and left the set.