A scratch from her sharp nails would have easily drawn blood, sidelining Xin Yaqi from filming for days. At worst, Lin Qian might be kicked off the set; at best, she could end up taking Xin Yaqi’s place.
She was no pushover, and she had no intention of quietly swallowing her pride forever.
Fortunately, her gamble had paid off. Chi Juanbei had stepped in, and she had caught the flash of sympathy in his eyes.
Even so, that was not enough. She wanted more.
She felt no regret about missing the chance to teach Xin Yaqi a lesson with her own hands. She had other moves left to play, but for now, she just needed to bide her time.
….
After thanking Chi Juanbei, Lin Qian hurried back to the set, knowing she had more scenes to shoot. Her face was visibly swollen, so the crew sent her to a temporary lounge to ice it down.
Xin Yaqi was in the room along with several crew members. From the moment Lin Qian walked in, Xin Yaqi watched her like a coiled snake flicking its tongue, keeping still only because she was uncertain about Lin Qian’s connection to Chi Juanbei.
One of the crew members worked up the nerve to ask, “What’s your relationship with Teacher Chi?”
“We don’t have one,” Lin Qian replied, her tone sounding conspicuously like a cover-up.
The questioner clearly did not buy it, casting a quick glance at Xin Yaqi. “If you don’t have a relationship, why would he…?”
Outsiders often assumed that low-profile actors kept their heads down, but anyone who had worked in the industry long enough knew better. Bit players were usually the ones putting on airs, while big-name, established stars guarded their reputations carefully and rarely meddled in other people’s business.
Everyone had witnessed Xin Yaqi’s behavior over the past two days, and it was obvious she had connections. For Chi Juanbei to step in without even knowing who was backing her, how could his bond with Lin Qian be ordinary?
Lin Qian waved her hands frantically, sounding almost excessively sincere. “I do know Teacher Chi, but we’re honestly not even acquaintances.”
Looking like an eager fan girl, she gazed off wistfully. “Teacher Chi is so brilliant. If I could achieve even half of what he has in the future, I’d be more than thrilled.”
Had she been vague or openly claimed a friendship with Chi Juanbei, everyone likely would have written it off as nonsense. But the harder she denied it, the more convinced they were that she was hiding something, and the looks they directed her way grew increasingly suspicious.
Lin Qian blinked, the picture of innocence. She had said everything she needed to say; if they still refused to believe her, she threw up her hands.
Thanks to her subtle nudges, rumors of her and Chi Juanbei spread through a small circle within the crew. Over the next two days, she noticed the staff treating her with far more deference, and even the assistant director quietly went out of his way to look after her.
Xin Yaqi clearly wanted to stir up trouble, yet held back out of fear that Lin Qian might run to Chi Juanbei and complain. Watching her rival stew in frustration amused Lin Qian to no end.
When her scenes wrapped for the day, Lin Qian tucked a hot water bag against her chest and headed over to where Bei Qiang was filming.
Off screen, Bei Qiang and Chi Juanbei were mother and son, and they shared the same dynamic in the drama, though not by blood.
Bei Qiang played the late noble consort, a character who, much like Lin Qian’s own palace maid, was killed off early in the story.
Besides, given her stature, hiring her as the female lead would simply be too expensive. Not that this was the real reason, of course.
Even though her character met an early demise, she remained the drama’s emotional core, driving the entire plot forward and recurring constantly in everyone’s memories.
When Lin Qian arrived, Bei Qiang was in the middle of a scene.
Stepping quietly into a corner, Lin Qian watched with rapt attention as the stunning Noble Consort commanded the set in magnificent, elaborate robes.
Bei Qiang had been only twenty-two when she gave birth to Chi Juanbei. Now in her early forties, she was so remarkably well-preserved that she looked barely thirty.
Her performance was profoundly captivating.
Within a dozen seconds, Lin Qian forgot the actress entirely, seeing only the dramatic, turbulent life of the imperial consort. When Bei Qiang furrowed her brow, Lin Qian felt her distress; when she smiled, Lin Qian caught herself smiling too.
As the thrilling scene came to an end, Lin Qian looked at Bei Qiang with pure admiration.
So this is what a world-class actor looks like.
It was light-years ahead of her own book-learned theories. Watching her act was an absolute joy, and Lin Qian could only hope to reach that level one day.
Unlike an eighteenth-tier nobody like Lin Qian, who had no assistant and had to handle every little detail herself, Bei Qiang was attended to the second the director yelled cut. A staff member rushed forward to drape a coat over her shoulders and gently guided her toward the monitors.
She carried an undeniable aura of prestige, yet there was nothing pretentious or off-putting about it.
Bei Qiang reviewed the footage with the director, rubbing her fingers together as they talked over the scene. The cold seemed to be getting to her hands.
Having turned into a total fan, Lin Qian was itching to hand over the hot water bottle tucked inside her coat, but she hesitated, worried she might seem too forward and cause offense.
As she tried to figure out a way around it, a familiar, impatient voice sounded behind her. “What are you doing here?”
Lin Qian turned around, her gaze colliding squarely with Chi Juanbei’s. A year younger than her, he stood a full head taller. Before she could answer, he shot her a look telling her to follow and strode toward the exit.
Left with no choice, she cast a reluctant backward glance at Bei Qiang and hurried after him.
No sooner had the two of them left than Bei Qiang glanced around, looking puzzled. “Did I just hear Xiaojuan?”
Xiaojuan was Chi Juanbei’s childhood nickname. Since it sounded too much like a girl’s name, no one dared use it except his elders.
“Huh?” her assistant chimed in. “I could have sworn I saw the young master coming this way just a second ago. Where did he go?”
“Forget it, don’t worry about him. Director, where were we?”
….
Chi Juanbei led Lin Qian to a quiet corner and frowned. “Lin Qian, did you come here just to corner me?”
Lin Qian was utterly speechless. Where did this narcissist come from?
Naturally, she kept that thought to herself, offering a gentle apology instead. “Teacher Chi, please don’t be mad.”
A smug, I-knew-it expression flitted across his face, his mood noticeably improving at her soft tone.
“What did you want to see me for?” he asked, keeping his voice casual.
Lin Qian tilted her head up to look at him. She hadn’t taken off her makeup yet, leaving her skin glowing and fair, and her watery eyes looked thoroughly endearing. The sight made Chi Juanbei’s heart skip a beat.
“Teacher Chi, look! My face is completely healed.”
He glanced at her cheek and gave a low grunt in response.
“It’s all thanks to you. Filming has been going so smoothly lately, and everyone on set has been getting along with me really well.”
With that, right in front of Chi Juanbei, she pulled down the zipper of her down coat with a sharp zipping sound. The tips of his ears instantly flushed red.
“What are you d—”
His words caught in his throat as Lin Qian reached inside her coat and pulled out a hot water bottle.
He had actually thought she was trying to seduce him.
“Huh?”
Because he had cut himself off, Lin Qian simply blinked at him, looking adorably confused.
“…Nothing,” he muttered.
With a sweet smile, Lin Qian pressed the hot-water bottle into Chi Juanbei’s hands. Their skin brushed for a fleeting moment, his fingers cold against her warm ones.
“Teacher Chi, I really didn’t know how else to repay you. I didn’t dare bring food or drinks, so I thought of this instead. Winter here in Beicheng is freezing, and as the lead actor, you’re always shooting through the night. A hot-water bottle should help keep you warm. I was worried it would cool off, so I kept it tucked inside my coat the whole time!”
She looked thoroughly pleased with herself, practically beaming with pride over her clever idea.
The heat radiating from the bottle seeped into Chi Juanbei’s palms. He knew he should keep his distance from this woman, yet he couldn’t bring himself to push her away.
Had she gone to his mother’s set simply because she couldn’t track him down? Had she waited all that time just to hand him a hot-water bottle?
As an established top-tier star, he had received countless gifts from fans, most far more expensive than this plain, dull blue rubber pouch. Yet the genuine warmth it carried felt priceless.
Because he had once treated Lin Qian as a stand-in, his mother knew about her. She had never said it outright, but Chi Juanbei was well aware of her dislike for Lin Qian and her desire for him to cut ties completely.
Going anywhere near his mother was practically asking for trouble. He had been genuinely furious moments ago, but now, he couldn’t find a single word of reproach.
Having handed over the gift, Lin Qian slowly zipped up her jacket and waved at Chi Juanbei.
“I’ll get going, then.”
“Wait.”
Chi Juanbei held out the hot water bottle.
“You keep it. I don’t need this kind of thing.”
Lin Qian’s face fell, her voice trembling. “Do you… look down on my gift?”
“No!” Chi Juanbei blurted out.
Her eyes lit up instantly. “Then take it! Otherwise, I’ll keep fretting about owing you a favor.”
Left with no choice, Chi Juanbei pulled his hand back. Once Lin Qian was out of sight, he looked around to make sure nobody was watching, then copied what she had done and tucked the hot water bottle inside his coat. It felt wonderfully warm.
On the other side of the set, Lin Qian gritted her teeth, silently cursing Chi Juanbei with every step she took.
If he hadn’t shown up, she could have stayed and watched the goddess Bei Qiang act. Now she couldn’t go back, and her hot water bottle was gone too.
Her acting fee wouldn’t be paid until all her scenes wrapped. The money she had brought along this time had been scraped together from Lin Yajun, leaving her desperate to pinch every single penny.
Why else would that hot water bottle have looked so cheap and poorly made? Because it was cheap, that was why.
Oh well, you had to risk a sprat to catch a mackerel. You couldn’t trap Chi Juanbei without parting with a hot water bottle. What a fool he was, getting completely fooled by something so small.
That evening, Chi Juanbei had dinner with Bei Qiang. Noticing the hot water bottle beside him, she asked, “Isn’t it a hassle using one you have to fill with hot water? Why not have your assistant get you a rechargeable one?”
Chi Juanbei glanced at it. Remembering that it still carried Lin Qian’s warmth when she handed it to him earlier, he felt the tips of his ears grow warm.
“This kind is fine. I like it better, actually.”
Bei Qiang let the matter drop, shifting her attention to Lin Qian instead. “Isn’t that girl who looks a lot like Chu Qingqing in your crew, too? Her name was Lin… Lin what?”
“Lin Qian.”
“Right. A girl that young ought to be working hard instead of taking cheap shortcuts. Keep your distance from her.”
Feeling guilty, Chi Juanbei gave a faint nod. “I know.”
Hoping to steer her away from the topic, he quickly changed the subject. “Mom, isn’t Sister Qingqing coming to the set tomorrow to do an exclusive interview with us?”
“She is.” Bei Qiang gave him a knowing smile. “I turned down every other interview request we got, but you went right ahead and sold me out just to chase after a girl.”
“Mom!” Chi Juanbei protested, flushed with embarrassment.
Bei Qiang laughed heartily. “All right, I’ll stop. You really can’t keep a grown boy at home.”
They were not the only ones who knew Chu Qingqing was coming to the set, though. Lin Qian knew as well.