When paying, Chi Ye didn’t let go of Yu Shujia’s hand, using his other hand to pull out his phone and complete the payment.
Only after the hand-held pancakes were ready did Chi Ye release Yu Shujia’s hand to take the two servings.
The loss of that warm, large hand left Qiao Shu feeling momentarily unsettled. She was reluctant to admit how much she had grown attached to Jiang Tu’s hand.
To be precise, she was attached to its warmth.
“Here, be careful—it’s hot.”
“Thank you!” Qiao Shu took the hand-held pancake Jiang Tu handed over. The steaming pancake warmed her icy hands, offering instant comfort.
As they walked and ate, Qiao Shu thought the pancake was really good—it was the first time she had eaten a prop during filming in a long while.
“Chi Ye, why are there so many people over there?”
“That’s where they paint plaster dolls.”
Yu Shujia tugged at the hem of Chi Ye’s clothes, tilting her head slightly to ask, “Can we go paint one too?”
Chi Ye lowered his gaze, the faint scent of roses lingering around him, and looked at her affectionately.
“Painting these takes at least an hour. But with the curfew at eleven, we still have enough time.”
Yu Shujia frowned. “That long? What if we paint one together? That would cut the time in half, right?”
“Alright,” Chi Ye said, leading her toward the stall. He glanced at the dolls on the table. “Which one do you want to paint?”
“The strawberry bear.”
Fortunately, the table was small. Qiao Shu and Jiang Tu sat facing each other, with Qiao Shu painting the front and Jiang Tu painting the back.
The weather was cold, and Qiao Shu could barely hold the brush steady. Enduring the chill, she silently repeated to herself, It’s almost over, it’s almost over.
Suppressing her chattering teeth, Qiao Shu recalled Yu Shujia’s lines in her mind. “Chi Ye, should we paint the color lighter or darker?”
A faint smile touched Chi Ye’s lips. “What do you think?”
“How about somewhere in between?”
“Either is fine.” Chi Ye’s slender, well-defined fingers held the paintbrush as he meticulously painted the plaster doll.
“Cut! Thank you both for your hard work. Take a ten-minute break, then we’ll shoot the remaining two scenes.”
Qiao Shu breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the chance to rest. She stood up and looked around for Ou Yaya.
Seeing Ou Yaya standing motionless, her gaze fixed on Jiang Tu with no intention of bringing Qiao Shu her coat, Qiao Shu took a deep breath.
Meanwhile, Jiang Tu’s agent had already handed him his coat and thoughtfully passed him a hot water bottle.
Qiao Shu’s legs were so cold they were nearly numb. She walked stiffly to retrieve her down jacket.
Jiang Tu’s deep, unfathomable peach blossom eyes darkened imperceptibly, his cool gaze briefly sweeping over Ou Yaya.
Ou Yaya stiffened, hurriedly lowering her eyes.
The night wind was bitingly cold, so Qiao Shu had no choice but to retreat to the car for warmth. She pulled out her phone and began typing furiously.
[Qian Jie:] What’s wrong?
Qiao Shu’s fingers paused. She wanted to vent her frustrations to Zhang Qian but hesitated, deciding against it. Instead, she simply told Zhang Qian how cold she was.
[Qian Jie:] Of course it’s cold filming summer scenes in winter. You should have your hot water bottle ready in advance.
[Qian Jie:] You’re so sensitive to the cold, yet you have to wear a dress for summer scenes. It’s pure torture.
A pang of emotion hit Qiao Shu, her nose tingling with sadness. It felt like Zhang Qian was the only one in the world who cared about her this much.
[Shu:] Got it, got it [jpg.]
Ou Yaya was flipping through her photo album. She had taken many pictures of Jiang Tu. Remembering his cold, detached gaze, she shuddered. Had he noticed her secretly photographing him?
Ten minutes later.
They resumed filming the remaining scenes. The strawberry bear was replaced with a pre-painted one, and Qiao Shu and Jiang Tu sat facing each other, brushes in hand.
Yu Shujia set down her paintbrush and stretched, her obsidian-like pupils bright. “Whew~ finally finished.”
Chi Ye’s affectionate peach blossom eyes held a smile. “How does it feel? Quite a sense of accomplishment, right?”
“Mhm,” Yu Shujia pursed her lips into a smile, her dark pupils sparkling. “Let’s come again next time.”
“Alright,” Chi Ye’s thin lips curved slightly as he raised his wrist to check the time. “It’s getting late, time to head back.”
Yu Shujia picked up the strawberry bear, her fair, slender hands stained with paint, looking somewhat comical.
Chi Ye’s peach blossom eyes crinkled. “I’ll carry it.”
“Okay.” Yu Shujia handed the strawberry bear to him, the boy’s long, distinct knuckles also smudged with paint.
Walking along the sidewalk under the streetlights, many students were returning to campus one after another. Yu Shujia and Chi Ye walked in tacit silence.
“Cut!”
Qiao Shu looked around for Ou Yaya and saw her holding her own jacket, her gaze lingering on Jiang Tu.
Liu Zhongran smiled. “That’s a wrap for today, everyone pack up! Thank you both for your hard work.”
Qiao Shu and Jiang Tu: “Thank you, director.”
Qiao Shu was slightly taken aback. After a moment, she walked over to Ou Yaya, took the down jacket from her hands, and put it on.
“Achoo—”
Liu Zhongran: “Are you alright, Xiao Qiao?”
“Director, I’m fi—” Before she could finish, Qiao Shu sneezed again, followed by two more in quick succession.
Liu Zhongran frowned. Filming summer scenes in such cold weather was indeed miserable, but there was no other choice.
Liu Zhongran said, “Remember to take some cold medicine when you get back, and drink some ginger tea to ward off the chill.”
“Alright, thank you, director.” Qiao Shu sniffled, suddenly feeling an ominous premonition.
Qiao Shu walked stiffly toward the car, not calling for Ou Yaya, not wanting to disturb her from her lovesick daze.
Fang Zheng coughed lightly into his fist. “Aren’t you leaving? Your artist is about to drive off.”
Ou Yaya snapped back to reality, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The Volkswagen by the roadside had already started its engine.
Ou Yaya ran toward the Volkswagen, inwardly cursing Qiao Shu for not even waiting for her assistant—who did she think she was, acting like some big shot!
Jiang Tu, his deep peach blossom eyes half-closed, strode toward the trailer. “Fang Zheng, go buy some ginger tea.”
Fang Zheng looked puzzled at Jiang Tu’s retreating back, then a lightbulb went off in his head. “Ah, right away.”
In Qiao Shu’s car.
Qiao Shu was pulling tissues to blow her nose.
Ou Yaya sat in the passenger seat playing on her phone. She had taken many photos of Jiang Tu, including some from the shoot.
Ou Yaya stared jealously at the pictures of Qiao Shu and Jiang Tu on her phone, wishing she were Qiao Shu instead.
The first thing Qiao Shu did upon returning to the hotel was take a shower. She wanted to soak in a comfortable hot bath.
Her phone on the coffee table rang again and again.
Half an hour later.
Qiao Shu emerged from the bathroom while drying her hair. Short hair was so convenient—washing and drying were both easy.
“Achoo—”
Qiao Shu’s fine brows furrowed. Great, she was really catching a cold. Thinking of Ou Yaya made her angry.
She might be a low-tier celebrity, but she wasn’t an idiot.
Qiao Shu picked up her phone. There were five missed calls and several WeChat message notifications. She opened the call log—all from the same number.
A number starting with 187. It looked familiar. Qiao Shu opened WeChat. “JT” had sent her several messages.
It was Jiang Tu.
The calls were from Jiang Tu too.
Qiao Shu’s fingers paused slightly as she tapped into Jiang Tu’s chat window. He had sent her a WeChat message fifteen minutes ago.
【JT:】??
This was the latest message.
Qiao Shu scrolled up.
[JT:] Why didn’t you answer the phone?
[JT:] I have cold medicine and ginger tea here. Fang Zheng will bring them over. What’s your room number?
[JT:] Please reply when you see this message.
Qiao Shu’s lips twitched slightly. Has Jiang Tu always been like this? It’s a bit—no, a lot—inconsistent with his persona.