The two arrived at the filming location one after the other. Song Jin’s sharp eyes caught sight of Chen Mingxi sitting under a tree from a distance, with a child beside her.
Since it was a sunny day, Li Hang had rescheduled the original filming plan to record the outdoor scenes where Chu and Jiang approach Huang Yuyang.
The young boy playing Huang Yuyang was surnamed Xu, and coincidentally, his name also contained the character “Yang.” His mother, Xu Ying, was a “Triple Gold” Best Actress award winner. She had actually won her first award thanks to Li Hang’s influence and viewed the director as her benefactor. In recent years, she had begun moving toward the international stage; by that logic, Yangyang was a second-generation star through and through.
Yangyang was six years old this year, sporting a trendy “micro-fringe” haircut. His porcelain-white face still held a bit of baby fat, making him look like a soft, delicious custard bun. His eyes were large and round, clearly inherited from his mother.
Even Song Jin, who usually had no interest in children, couldn’t help but steal a few extra glances.
This kid could be a child model, she thought.
Li Hang had just finished setting up the camera positions. When she spotted Song Jin and Wen Yu hurrying over out of the corner of her eye, her face lit up.
She rushed over immediately: “Quick, quick, quick! Help me look after the kid.”
“Huh?” Song Jin looked puzzled, instinctively shifting her gaze back to Yangyang. “Isn’t Mingxi watching him? Why do you need us to help?”
“Eh—it’s not the same!” Li Hang patted Song Jin’s shoulder disapprovingly. “Yangyang is a bit introverted. He’s not used to being around strangers and tends to be stiff. You two can go over and get close to him while you’re off-duty these next few days to get familiar. That way, the filming won’t look so awkward.”
“Huh? If he’s so introverted and stiff, why is he even here?” But as soon as the words left her mouth, Song Jin thought of Wen Yu—the person who was also “cold and introverted” yet chose to be an actress. She quickly tried to fix her statement: “But then again—”
“Don’t ‘then again’ me. Just tell me if you can do it,” Li Hang rolled her eyes. She then pretended to casually scan the surroundings, and once she was sure no one would approach for a while, she lowered her voice. “Xu Ying is treating my set like an after-school hobby class. She also wants to broaden the kid’s range. Child star—you get it, right?”
Song Jin looked at her with a pained expression: “Director Li, where are your principles? How come I had to interview just to act here, but others can just be slotted in? Damn, you’re really something.”
“So what?” Li Hang felt Song Jin was making a mountain out of a molehill. “Xu Ying said that once this is handled well, she’ll come back to film my next movie—and let me set my own salary!”
Seeing Song Jin about to argue again, Li Hang quickly cut her off: “Of course, you don’t need to worry. He’s quite smart with a great memory. He doesn’t stumble over his lines.”
Song Jin curled her lip, thinking, Isn’t that just the basics? But then she remembered the little brat had only just started first grade. At that age, she was probably still struggling with the multiplication tables, so she didn’t say anything more.
She wanted to ask for Wen Yu’s opinion, only to find that Wen Yu had walked away at some point. Song Jin, sensing something, looked toward Yangyang and saw Wen Yu had already finished the hand-off with Chen Mingxi. She was crouching on the ground, level with Yangyang, seemingly talking to him about something.
The crew members were busy with their work in an orderly fashion—moving props, adjusting lights, testing audio equipment. The hustle and bustle felt like the background noise of life. Meanwhile, Wen Yu remained crouched, seriously watching the soul before her that seemed to resonate with her own, nodding in agreement occasionally and following his topics of conversation.
Sunlight filtered through the tree branches and fell upon Wen Yu, making the wine-red cloak over her dress look exceptionally vibrant.
Song Jin walked over and vaguely heard words like “intonation” and “expression.” Confused, she couldn’t help but lean in and ask, “What are you two talking about?”
Wen Yu glanced at her and explained, “Discussing some common acting techniques.”
“Hah?” Song Jin looked at her strangely. “Didn’t you two just meet? Shouldn’t you start with personal info or school grades to transition into things, and then talk about business?”
Wen Yu answered earnestly, “But he is more interested in this.”
Fine, I don’t understand your world.
Since Song Jin approached, Yangyang stopped talking and only observed her curiously with his beautiful large eyes. Although she wasn’t fond of children, Song Jin decided she had to at least act the part since she had been given a mission.
She took a deep breath, her lips curling into a perfectly measured smile: “Hello, Yangyang. My name is Song Jin. You’ll be following us for the next few days.”
As she spoke, Wen Yu noticed that Song Jin’s voice had changed—it was soft and gentle, as if she were afraid of scaring him. Wen Yu raised an eyebrow slightly but quietly shifted her gaze back.
“Hello, Sister Song Jin. My name is Xu Yang,” Yangyang replied somewhat cautiously, his hands instinctively picking at the fabric of his trousers. He looked at Song Jin, his fair little face turning red with shy admiration. “Sister, you are so pretty.”
Song Jin had applied light makeup this morning, and her lips, coated in a cinnamon-colored gloss, looked plump. She had been lazy when leaving the house, grabbing a “Maillard-style” skirt suit from her wardrobe that happened to match her new pearl earrings perfectly.
Her height was considered quite tall even in the industry—standing at 175cm in shoes—giving her a very elegant aura.
Although she didn’t like kids, Song Jin found that she seemed to be particularly good at gaining their favor. Perhaps it was her highly approachable features, or the way her voice naturally softened. Once, when visiting her teacher at a kindergarten, a little girl had followed her the entire time and even called her “Mommy” in a sweet, high-pitched voice when they left.
She could barely suppress the smile on her face, and even the kid in front of her started looking more pleasing. Song Jin was secretly thrilled, but on the surface, she had to maintain the composure of a rational beauty. She cleared her throat: “Thank you. Has anyone ever told you that you have excellent taste?”
Yangyang: “Huh?”
Wen Yu
Wen Yu leaned her forehead against her hand, feeling slightly amused, and tried to draw Song Jin’s attention back. “Are we going to stay here the whole time? Or should we take him for a walk?”
Song Jin thought for a moment and suggested, “There’s a film studio next door. After lunch, shall we go explore together?” As she spoke, she turned her gaze back to Xu Yang, her voice becoming very sweet as if coaxing him: “Is that okay, Yangyang? Do you want to go?”
Yangyang’s eyes lit up, and he nodded excitedly.
Song Jin couldn’t resist reaching out to pat his head; the texture was just as soft as she had imagined. “Is there anything you want to do now? Or are you thirsty or hungry? Do you want Sister to buy you some snacks?”
Yangyang shook his head like a rattle. “No thank you, Sister. I’ve already eaten.”
Song Jin nodded thoughtfully and then suddenly had no next move. It was as if someone had hit the mute button; she just crouched there staring at Yangyang.
“Why did you suddenly stop talking?” Wen Yu asked in a low voice after waiting a while for a follow-up.
“I don’t know what else to say…” The smile on Song Jin’s face turned awkward as she sheepishly rubbed her nose.
She had originally planned to use buying snacks as an excuse to get close to him, thinking that eating together would help them bond. But now that he refused, she had no idea what else to do to build rapport.
After all, it had been a thousand years since she last spoke properly to a child. She had no idea what was popular in their circles these days. Her experience was lacking, her topics were non-existent, and she really couldn’t fathom why Li Hang trusted her to watch a kid.
Wen Yu, who was usually the quiet one, stepped up. Though her face remained largely expressionless, the softness in the corners of her eyes was genuine. “Yangyang, do you want to practice the scene with us?”
Song Jin couldn’t help herself: “How can you turn everything into a rehearsal?”
Wen Yu’s answer remained unchanged: “But he is interested in this.”
“Fine, we have to film the three of us after this anyway.” Song Jin turned to look at Li Hang’s progress. The entire crew was in the heat of filming, though it didn’t seem to be going smoothly—the director had shouted “Cut” three times in less than ten minutes.
“Sister?” Yangyang pulled a booklet out of his limited-edition collaboration backpack. It was thinner than a grain of rice, likely only a few pages long. “Are we starting now?”
“Sure.” Song Jin nodded, switching her weight from her cramped left foot to the other. “Do you want to just go over lines, or do you want to do the movements too?”
Yangyang thought about it, looking a bit shy. “Can we do both? I want to study hard and grow up to be someone as amazing as my mom!”
“You’ve got ambition, kid.” Song Jin couldn’t resist patting his little head again. She stood up to stretch her arms. “Come on then, let’s see what we’re filming later.”
Jiang Huaiyue stood downstairs at Chu Xuxu’s apartment complex, her gaze sharp as she scanned the children playing in the recreation area. “Is Huang Yuyang really going to show up here?”
It wasn’t that she doubted Chu Yun, but Huang Yuyang was in elementary school now—would he really still be crouching by a sandpit playing with mud with a bunch of toddlers?
She was skeptical.
Chu Yun rolled her eyes at her but quickly focused back on the recreation area. “Why couldn’t he be here? When I graduated from elementary school, I was still playing with dirt with my friends.”
“…You’re an exception.”
“By that logic, all seven people in our organization are exceptions.” Chu Yun curled her lips, sounding quite proud. Catching sight of someone leading a child in their direction out of the corner of her eye, Chu Yun nudged Wen Yu with her elbow. “They’re here.”
Chu Xuxu had money and leisure; her life was comfortable. Her only misery might have been that after her lover divorced his original wife, the child awarded to him was dumped on her to raise.
However, it wasn’t a huge problem. Hiring a nanny took the misery out of it.
Chu Xuxu accompanied the nanny and Huang Yuyang downstairs. Upon reaching the recreation area, she gave the nanny some instructions with a blank expression and then swayed her hips as she walked away, without sparing even a glance for Huang Yuyang, who was standing there looking at her expectantly.
“Wow, Huang Tianqi really has a big heart—” Chu Yun clicked her tongue, crossing her arms. “They aren’t even married yet and he dares to let his mistress watch the kid. Isn’t he afraid the kid will be resentful? Is the boy really his biological son if he raises him like this?”
Jiang Huaiyue: “To give birth but not to raise… it makes no difference whether he’s biological or not.” She looked up, assigning a task. “I’ll go lead the nanny away. You find a chance to pull a few strands of his hair. Whether Huang Yuyang has a biological connection to Ye Jingxiu is crucial to this case. Be careful.”
“Leave it to me.” Chu Yun clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth toward Wen Yu.