Chapter 6: The Sweet and Tender Red Bean Bun

Chapter 6: The Sweet and Tender Red Bean Bun

In an instant, the director was pulled out of the scene, finding it hard to hold back as he rubbed his face, then waved for someone to hurry down.

Chen Bai came down, and upon descending, asked, "Was that good?"

The director said yes.

Following the confirmation, they delved into the specifics of contract negotiations.

What the director had previously mentioned about paying people essentially referred to having the producer handle the finances. It was the producer who managed the actor's fee, and the contract would also be processed through the production company.

Leave professional matters to professionals. Unfamiliar with the industry's pay scales, Chen Bai recalled his long-forgotten agent, buried deep within his contacts. After some searching, he finally unearthed the neglected number.

Don't discard a contact that has been left to gather dust; brush off the cobwebs, and it can still serve its purpose.

From what little he could remember, his agent was quite competent, but had unfortunately encountered a supporting actor who didn't need the money, thus failing to ignite any passionate collaboration.

To his surprise, Chen Bai already had an agent, prompting the director to inquire, "Who is your agent?"

Chen Bai glanced at the contact's name again and said, "Gao Qian."

Before this, the supporting actor usually called her Sister Qian.

The director raised his eyebrows, giving him an extra look as if finding it hard to believe, but then he seemed to understand. His raised eyebrows slowly lowered as he said, "A god of wealth doesn't necessarily shower gold coins, but your agent can make the producers rain more gold coins."

Gao Qian, a renowned agent in the industry known for her negotiation skills, had a track record of turning every artist she represented into a star. It was rumored that she hadn't taken on any new talent in the past two years, so it was unexpected that she had signed someone new quietly—and here he was.

Chen Bai sent a WeChat message to his gold coin-generating agent, briefly explaining the situation. Within two minutes, a call came through.

To his delight, after such a long time, his agent still remembered him and seemingly hadn't given up on him. After asking about the specifics, she assured him that she would negotiate with the production team.

The director chimed in, hoping for swift action, and Chen Bai relayed the message truthfully. The person on the other end agreed.

After hanging up, Chen Bai received part of the script.

The director said, "These are the scenes you're in. Read them over the next few days while we discuss the contract, and remember to go through them at least twice."

The full script would only be provided once they officially joined the production team. For now, they could only make do with this portion. With the role change, previously filmed segments needed to be reshot, putting them behind schedule from the start. Once they joined the set, the pace would inevitably accelerate, making it difficult to keep up without familiarity with the script.

The shooting schedule wasn't strictly chronological, instead, it was arranged based on set availability and the schedules of other actors, which could easily lead to confusion. The director didn't expect a newcomer to acclimate quickly, but he at least hoped that the actor would have some recollection of the scenes they were about to shoot, avoiding any on-set dilemmas.

Chen Bai glanced down at the script in his hands, neither too thick nor too thin, and simply replied with an affirmative.

With the contract not yet finalized, he wasn't officially part of the production crew, and thus didn't linger. After bidding farewell to the Tall and Thin Brother, Chen Bai left the set.

On his way back, he conveniently took on another job, helping a less fortunate child who had been locked out of their home. After finishing the job and checking the time, he realized it was later than he thought. He promptly abandoned his initial plan to spend some more time at his shop and instead headed straight to the supermarket after dropping off his things.

Tonight, he had planned to indulge in the much-anticipated Siu Mai (steamed dumplings).

Knowing he had to start streaming soon after dinner, he made the most of his time. While enjoying the Siu Mai, he casually laid out the script and skimmed through it.

The character he was playing today was far more complex than the director's summary suggested. Named A Huai, he was a neighbor living on the same street as the female lead. Unlike a typical "white moonlight" character, he was terminally ill, having experienced despair and attempted suicide by cutting his wrist with a piece of metal while out shopping, only to be coincidentally saved by the female lead.

After being rescued and experiencing a series of events, he came to realize that his life wasn't just his own but also belonged to those who cared about him. This realization led him to change his outlook on life, becoming more positive and setting daily goals to live as long as possible.

There was a note in the script for the makeup department to remember to create a scar on the actor's hand.

Chen Bai: "..." (implying a mix of surprise and perhaps slight discomfort or amusement at the detailed instruction)

Chen Bai glanced at the scar already present on his wrist.

Conveniently equipped with a scar, no need for the makeup team to intervene.

As he continued flipping through the script, he came across the scene they were rehearsing today.

This was actually a scene after being rescued, by which time A Huai's condition had deteriorated to the point where he couldn't make a sound. To greet the passing female lead, he could only resort to writing.

The actual content on that piece of paper should have been "Good morning."

Chen Bai took a look at the shumai on the chopsticks.

No wonder those people had such peculiar expressions back then.

By this point in the script, it was nearing its end.

Afterwards, A Huai died, his mother cried until she fainted and was sent to the hospital. The female lead, who had been away from home for nearly a decade, was deeply moved, acutely sensing the fragility of life, and finally decided to return home.

His involvement in the plot ends here, after which it has nothing more to do with him, with no further developments.

Though not well-versed in this field, Chen Bai felt as if he had been handed a script of high difficulty right from the start.

After finishing the last Siu Mai, he temporarily closed the script and got up to inspect the kitchen.

There were still six Siu Mai left in the pot. Two for the night's snack, two for tomorrow's breakfast, and there were an extra pair beyond that.

Thus, on that evening, when Xu Sinian came to return the plate, he arrived with a pair of chopsticks and a plate, only to leave with the same chopsticks and plate.

The only difference was that there were now two additional Siu Mai on the plate.

The third day brought red sugar steamed buns.

Following that were soup dumplings, and after that, red bean paste buns.

Staring at the red bean paste bun in the plate for a long while, Xu Sinian finally took the initiative to ask, "Are you thinking about opening a breakfast shop?"

Chen Bai, simply a good neighbor who enjoyed sharing and couldn't finish what he made by himself, waved his hand. "Opening a breakfast shop would require me to get up too early, which conflicts with my sleep schedule. There aren't any vacant storefronts nearby, and the rent isn't cheap either. I don't have the money to buy all the necessary equipment."

Xu Sinian: "…"

It seemed that the person had indeed given it serious thought before, judging by the content of his words, and had even conducted some investigations.

As he was chatting with someone, there were still a myriad of topics lingering in his throat to be discussed. Chen Bai glanced at the time, realizing it was getting late. He had to suppress his urge to continue chatting and said goodbye instead, closing the door behind him as he left.

After the front door closed, Xu Sinian stood by the door, looking down at the red bean bun on the plate in his hand.

Touched by the chopsticks, the bun caved in slightly, then slowly regained its shape—a plump and soft texture.

Chen Bai hurried back to start his live stream.

Starting from today, his streaming hours have been extended. After reviewing the script and confirming with the director, he has several outdoor shoots scheduled over different nights, spread out in various locations, which means they can't be completed in one go. This implies that there are a few evenings when he won't have time for streaming, so he has to make up for it starting now.

As of now, his latest streaming end time has already been pushed back to 2 AM, and it can't be delayed any further; the only option is to start earlier.

Putting on his headphones, he casually clicks "Start Stream" while loading the game.

Recently, his live stream has, in an irreversible manner, transformed into a peculiar large-scale gambling scene almost inexplicably.

Previously, when he started streaming, the chat was filled with normal greetings. Now, as soon as the stream opens, the messages read:

"The gambling dogs are here again!"

"Brothers, another round of prizeless guessing?"

"I'm betting on two losses today. If I lose, no phone for the whole weekend, just pure studying."

"Didn't lose a single game yesterday, hard to believe. Still, I'm betting on at least one loss today."

"I've bet with my roommate on winning all games. Erbai, please. If I lose, I'll have to fetch him meals for a week."

Chen Bai glanced at the incessantly scrolling barrage of comments, his hands lightly tapping the keyboard twice as he smiled and said, "Should I let myself lose or win then?"

The supporters for both winning and losing began to compete fiercely.

The number of people in the live stream continued to increase, yet Chen Bai didn't start the game as soon as possible like he usually did.

He couldn't find any buddies to play with. None of his usual gaming friends were online, with the only one being already in a match.

With no buddies to be found, he could only play solo.

Having played solo for the first time in ages, Chen Bai was once again actively seeking new teammates. In a team of five, three of them knew each other, and Erbai led one along, leaving just one solo player to pair up with him.

As a natural social butterfly, Chen Bai wasted no time in greeting his new teammate, who responded promptly and enthusiastically.

The voice on the other end was quite pleasant to hear.

It was the first time he had received such an energetic response, and Chen Bai felt a surge of excitement. His mouse cursor drifted unconsciously towards the "add friend" icon as he glanced at the bottom right corner of the screen, saying, "He's so enthusiastic, I want to be friends with him."

The chat didn't comment on his declaration of friendship, instead scrolling rapidly.

"Qingzhou!"

"Both Qingzhou and Erbai started streaming, I agonized over which to watch, only to find Qingzhou here with Erbai [Stunned.jpg]"

"Hahaha, they're both streamers, how could they not be friendly?"

As his eyes skimmed over the chat messages, Chen Bai said, "Qingzhou?"

With seven parts doubt and three parts confusion, the viewers in the livestream picked up on his genuine perplexity.

"Goodness, Erbai! QZ is a top streamer on the popularity chart!"

"You two are on the same channel, and yet, Erbai, you really don't pay attention at all."

"I'm not concerned about QZ; I only care about my bet. With both QZ and Erbai in this match, I knew I had lost (closing eyes)."

Upon learning the identity of his temporary teammate, Chen Bai moved his mouse away from the 'add friend' icon and said, "Oh, hmm."

Occupied with his daily tasks, he seldom paid much attention to these details. After finishing his streams, he would simply crash into bed and only open the app when it was time. Presumably, their streaming schedules hadn't overlapped before, which is why he hadn't heard this name mentioned by his viewers in the live room.

If the opponent is a streamer, considering the audience's experience on the other end, one cannot engage in the usual baiting antics as before.

"Erbai visibly deflated, followed by a burst of laughter."

"Hahaha, Erbai, you're not exactly subtle with your intentions, just wanting a little bait buddy!"

"Top streamer? No, just a teammate who can't serve as bait, alas." (shakes head)

The trio departed first, with Chen Bai and his temporary teammate choosing a spot to parachute down together.

This time, no one was there to cackle alongside him; he had to take charge of the ruthless slaughters. Working in tandem with his temporary teammate, they made swift progress, continuously reaping kills.

The faster the pace, the more focus was required. He spoke less than usual, only occasionally glancing at the barrage of comments, responding to a couple.

"What a guy, turns out Erbai is like this when he's serious."

"HAHAHA, forced into silence, it's tragic but truly cool x"

"It turns out this guy can snipe people without bait!!!"

"Erbai's joy diminished, transferring to my face hahaha."

A figure swiftly darted across the view, triggering a reflexive flick shot from Chen Bai, who exhaled in relief upon hitting his mark.

Indeed, the little game of bait is more entertaining after all.