Ding Yuxi had been waiting since the moment he trended on the hot search. A whole day passed, and still no call from Ding Jiaxin demanding an explanation.
The next morning, when he woke up and saw a message from Ding Jiaxin on his screen, he nervously unlocked his phone.
Ding Jiaxin: “Brother, I’m wrapping up at the end of the month and coming back to Shanghai. Can you take a set of photos for me?”
Alipay: Jiaxin has transferred 200,000.00 to you.
This is bad.
Ding Yuxi thought.
His little cousin was angry.
He called her, but a robotic female voice replied coldly: “The number you have dialed is not in the service area. Please try again later.”
Ding Jiaxin was filming in the mountains—she went up in the morning and came down at night, so it was common for her to be unreachable by phone.
Ding Yuxi transferred the money back to her and left a message: “Okay, give me a call when you come down the mountain today.”
After Ding Yuxi had gotten through his freshman year of college without relying on the family’s allowance, perhaps his rebellious defiance had taken effect.
His cousin Ding Jiaxin, two years younger than him, said she wanted to apply to the film academy and become an actress. Not only did Elder Ding not object, he lavished Ding Jiaxin with film and television resources.
When Ding Jiaxin wanted to get into the film academy, he hired the best acting teachers to tutor her in her professional courses, ensuring she got into the Beijing Film Academy’s acting program.
When Ding Jiaxin wanted to act in films, Elder Ding squeezed her into major productions by famous directors as the second or third female lead.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t give her leading roles—it was that newcomers needed to hone their craft first. Supporting roles were the best option: she could work alongside good directors and actors to sharpen her skills without bearing the pressure of box office performance. Plenty of supporting characters had broken out recently thanks to standout personas, and her resume could boast “appeared in [Title],” covering both substance and prestige.
Elder Ding was the epitome of a tyrannical dictator.
Those he loved, he would keep alive; those he hated, he would see dead.
Elder Ding’s lavish investment in Ding Jiaxin’s career was nothing more than a message to Ding Yuxi: apologize to Grandpa, soften up, make him happy, and whatever Ding Jiaxin had, he could have too.
Unfortunately, Ding Yuxi’s spine was too stiff to bend. Shut out of the film industry by the old man’s deliberate sabotage, he gritted his teeth and endured in the TV drama circle.
Staring at the transfer record on his phone screen, Ding Yuxi let out a helpless sigh. He knew Ding Jiaxin must be angry at him for his “betrayal.”
But Ding Yuxi really didn’t want to keep drifting along like this. He needed money—the more, the better. That was also why he had volunteered to cooperate with Yu Shuxin on the rumor: in the age of traffic, attention could be monetized.
He decided to wait until Ding Jiaxin got off work to properly explain things to her.
…
On the other side, Yu Shuxin had a bit of a headache too.
Paparrazi shots carried risk; rumors required caution.
Her middle school best friend, Qin Tianjiao, had secretly had a crush on Ding Yuxi back in their school days. After seeing the rumor about Ding Yuxi and Yu Shuxin, she immediately called across the ocean to ask what was going on.
Yu Shuxin obviously couldn’t honestly say this was a calculated publicity stunt riding the wave. She chose her words carefully: “Oh, he’s just a regular colleague from the drama crew. He took some photos for me, and I treated him to a meal—that’s all. We just happened to get caught by the paparazzi.” That was the truth.
Qin Tianjiao still didn’t believe it. She said gloomily: “Someone as confident in her own photography skills as you suddenly asking a regular colleague to take your photos—doesn’t that just say it all? There’s really nothing between you two?”
Yu Shuxin was at a loss for words. If she told Qin Tianjiao that Ding Zhoujie was her fan-station photographer, Qin Tianjiao’s jealousy would probably turn the Pacific Ocean between them into vinegar.
Yu Shuxin was still patiently explaining to Qin Tianjiao, “Really, really, there’s nothing going on. You know I like single-eyelid handsome guys like Kim Soo-hyun.”
Qin Tianjiao: “Alright then, next month when I come back to the country, can you help me get him to come out and hang out with us?”
Yu Shuxin frowned. She wasn’t really keen on getting involved in her friend’s romantic affairs.
But Qin Tianjiao was her best friend since childhood, so she couldn’t just turn her down outright. So she said, “Jiao Jiao, I’m not that close with him either. Let’s see how things go when you get back, okay? Besides, we haven’t seen each other in so long—don’t you miss me?”
…
Ding Yuxi was still following the first unit for filming. Today they were shooting the awards ceremony scene, with dozens of extras—one of the big set pieces in the drama.
As assistant director, he was running around like crazy—one moment communicating details with the extras, the next being called over to put out fires when the big screen equipment on the award stage malfunctioned.
He was squatting down adjusting the projector parameters when a latte was handed to him.
Ding Yuxi looked up. It was Yu Shuxin’s assistant, Xiao Yang.
For some reason, he felt a pang of disappointment.
Xiao Yang said, “Director Ding, Xin Xin said you guys are really busy today, so she told me I don’t need to stick with her—she asked if I could help you all with anything.”
Xiao Yang often interacted with the crew. Sometimes when things got busy, Yu Shuxin would have Xiao Yang come help them out.
Ding Yuxi looked toward the stage. Yu Shuxin was rehearsing lines with Zhouchuan. She was wearing a pale pink long dress, her hair pinned back behind her ears with a rhinestone headband. She looked obedient and adorable, like a little pink bunny.
The temperature had dropped in Shanghai today, and Yu Shuxin had a white down jacket over her outfit, but she still looked a bit cold.
Ding Yuxi: “Mm, thank you. Could you do me a favor and let the hotel staff know to turn up the heating in our conference hall? And also, could you call Photographer Zhou over for me?”
…
Today’s filming didn’t wrap until around nine or ten in the evening.
After receiving a call from Ding Jiaxin, Ding Yuxi quickened his pace and only answered once he reached the hotel’s emergency stairwell.
Ding Jiaxin’s voice was hoarse, as if she’d been doing something to strain it: “Hey, big brother.”
“What’s wrong? Why is your voice so hoarse?”
Ding Jiaxin’s voice sounded pitiful: “I filmed a crying scene today.”
“Mm, did the temperature drop over there? It’s getting cold—wear more layers so you don’t catch a cold.”
Ding Jiaxin sniffled: “Too late, hehe, I already caught one.”
Ding Yuxi: “…”
Ding Yuxi: “Then have Xiao Xiong buy you some cold medicine. Go home, take it, and rest early tonight. If you really can’t manage, take another day off tomorrow.”
Ding Jiaxin: “Got it, big brother.”
Ding Yuxi brought up the topic himself: “When you come back to Shanghai, how about big brother takes some photos of you?”
Ding Jiaxin: “No way. You won’t even charge me for the photography.”
Ding Yuxi: “Are you upset because I took photos of her? She and I are just ordinary colleagues, really.”
Ding Jiaxin: “I know, big brother. I also know you’re really short on money right now. The money I gave you is all earned by myself—it’s not Grandpa’s money. Will you please accept the photography fee?”
Ding Yuxi was a bit surprised that Ding Jiaxin had become so considerate now. For the first time, his little cotton-padded jacket wasn’t letting the wind through, and his heart felt warm and cozy: “Alright, then you take good care of yourself and don’t get sick again.”
…
Yu Shuxin wanted to invite Ding Yuxi to her birthday party next month.
Every year on her birthday, she loved to invite a large group of friends—both new and old. After hanging out together a few times, everyone gradually became friends, and her birthday party had nearly turned into a social mixer.
Even more absurdly, there was one couple who had met at her birthday party and were getting married this year. They invited Yu Shuxin to give a toast at their wedding as the matchmaker.
That way, Qin Tianjiao could blend in among the crowd of friends at the party and meet Ding Yuxi without it being too awkward.
When Yu Shuxin reached the door of the hotel’s emergency exit, she happened to overhear Ding Yuxi say, “She and I are just ordinary colleagues.”
Just last night, when Qin Tianjiao had asked Yu Shuxin, she had said the same thing. It seemed their definition of the relationship was consistent—ordinary colleagues. But for some reason, Yu Shuxin felt inexplicably uneasy, as if something was constantly prickling at her.
A gentle male voice from the stairwell said, “Take good care of yourself. Don’t get sick again.”
Yu Shuxin rolled her eyes, pulled her down jacket tighter, and slipped away silently.
What a considerate Shanghai central air conditioner.
He’d have Xiao Yang ask the hotel to crank up the heating in the conference hall, and he’d also speak softly and tenderly to some girl on the phone, telling her to take good care of herself.