Chapter 7: A Huai

Chapter 7: A Huai

In the final circle, Erbai's squad was neatly whittled down to just Chen Bai and his temporary teammate.

The notifications for tips kept flashing by; he noticed them but didn't look, as his temporary teammate swiftly took down another opponent on a distant hill with a shot. He, in turn, easily dispatched the enemy that had circled around to their back.

Their coordination from start to finish was flawless, ensuring an undisputed victory.

In the last second before the game ended, Chen Bai leaned back, his fingers leaving the keyboard as he adjusted his headset, chuckling lightly. To his temporary teammate, he said, "Farewell, friend."

This laugh was genuine, conveying a palpable happiness.

"Hahaha, Erbai must have been holding it in!"

"This is probably the happiest sentence Erbai has uttered this entire match. You really understand, don't you, Erbai!"

"Who understands the value of that laughter! Doesn't anyone think Erbai's laugh sounds great! I forgot to record it!!"

"Don't worry, don't be afraid, the screen recording team is already in position."

The victory screen popped up, and the in-game voice chat ended. Chen Bai swiftly returned to the main menu, his reclined body leaning back into the chair once more. He scrolled through the chat messages, sincerely thanking the viewers for their gifts before, demonstrating his professionalism.

As he was looking at the lower left corner of the screen, expressing gratitude for the gifts, a message appeared in the lower right corner.

It was a team-up invitation from Qing Zhou, his temporary teammate they had just played with.

The man who was fully focused on thanking the gift-givers didn't notice it at first. The chat spammed reminders, and only then did he finally turn his eyes slightly, following with his mouse movement.

The small triangle cursor bounced between decline and accept repeatedly. The moment it stopped, another invitation popped up.

Another application came from a fellow gamer who had been online but was in the middle of a match.

With a swift motion, Chen Bai accepted the request.

Glancing at the barrage of comments, he squinted his eyes and explained with an air of seriousness, "Major streamers don't lack teammates, but I'm the only one who can play special tactics with my buddies."

"In plain English: wants to play the bait mini-game."

"Hahaha, just wandered back from the neighboring stream. This is the first time Qingzhou has invited another streamer to play together, and being turned down has left a whole hunk heartbroken."

"You've certainly earned your reputation, Chen Erbai."

"Boats may drift along the stream, but true friends stand firm like iron."

Finally teaming up with his buddy, Chen Bai chatted casually with both the live chat and his teammate, taking out two more players in the process, clearly enjoying himself.

Once again, it was two in the morning when he signed off, and those night owls who bet on him losing only one game claimed the ultimate victory.

When he finally went offline, there were still quite a few viewers in the live room, probably because of the impromptu match with his temporary teammate, which attracted some extra attention.

Powering down his computer and removing his headphones, Chen Bai was enveloped in total silence once the cooling fans of his CPU faded into quietude.

Rising to his feet, he glanced at the time displayed on his phone, momentarily stretching his stiffened body before tucking the device into his pocket and heading off for a wash.

The director had expedited arrangements for his scenes; he would need to visit the set tomorrow morning for a costume fitting and a glimpse of the filming process, necessitating an early night.

He had initially anticipated a protracted negotiation period for his contract, but thanks to his agent's exceptional skills and the other party's urgent need for talent, the process had been expedited. Discussions that began not long ago culminated in a finalized agreement this very afternoon.

Though unaware of the specifics of the negotiation, judging by the director's demeanor, it seemed the opposing party had significantly increased their financial commitment to the production.

The breakfast for the following day was red bean buns, a type of food perfect for eating on the go.

As expected, Chen Bai nearly overslept, and when he left his home, his brain cells hadn't fully woken up yet, his eyes weren't completely open, but his mouth was still determinedly gnawing at the red bean bun.

Fortunately, the filming location was nearby, allowing him to arrive just in time for their scheduled meeting.

Last time he came as an outsider, but this time around, he had become part of the crew.

Both the director's team and the second team were busy shooting scenes, so he didn't rush to disturb them. Instead, someone led him to a makeup test first.

The production had a dedicated makeup room where the makeup artist was already waiting. Upon seeing him, she stood up with a smile, and he reciprocated with a greeting.

Putting makeup on A Huai proved surprisingly easy. As a patient, the makeup primarily aimed to accentuate his sickly appearance; however, some people genuinely looked like they had just left the hospital, coupled with habitual late nights, resulting in a pale complexion that made them look even more ill than actual patients.

The man sitting there possessed naturally superior facial features, so all the makeup artist needed to do was enhance his contours, ensuring that his facial advantages would be more pronounced on camera.

The staff responsible for styling arrived later, bringing along a set of clothes, instructing him to try them on.

A Huai had three outfits designated for him in the drama, chosen based on the previous actor. After the cast change, the director spent a long time considering the situation before deciding that the original clothes were no longer suitable. Due to the short notice, they could only find the current set of clothes based on the director's requirements. Now that they were trying them on, any issues could still be addressed and adjusted accordingly.

The stylist brought in a set of light beige loungewear, loose and with a good drape, paired with an ivory knitted wool cardigan on the outside, which looked comfortable and warm.

Chen Bai put it on.

The lighting in the dressing room was slightly white, and the person who had changed into the clothes draped the knitted cardigan over him, slightly lowering his eyes, his eyelashes casting a shadow under the light, and his wrists were slender and pale.

Indeed, there was someone who could just stand there, as if they were A Huai himself.

After a brief silence, the stylist cleared his throat and asked, "Is the fit alright?"

"No problem," Chen Bai smiled and said, "It's more comfortable than my own clothes."

When he smiled, everything about him seemed to change, the sunlight streaming in from the window, even the air seemed to be imbued with a sense of warmth and vitality.

Unable to resist, the stylist also smiled, reaching out to smooth out the slightly wrinkled collar of the knitted cardigan, saying, "It's almost time for the first team to take a break."

A break during the first team's shooting was the perfect time to find the director.

The makeup artist would need to touch up the actors' makeup during the break, so she conveniently took Chen Bai along with her.

With his mouth still intact, Chen Moubai could strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere; by the end of the road, he had already befriended the makeup artist and added her as a WeChat contact.

When they arrived at the shooting location for Group One, filming was yet to conclude.

The director’s brows were furrowed, and the atmosphere around them was tense. The makeup artist whispered an explanation: "There have probably been too many NGs in this scene."

Chen Bai nodded, squatting down on the spot, his gaze fixed on the actor behind the camera.

The air was taut with tension, and the actor, clearly feeling the pressure, executed each movement and glance with practiced stiffness.

The director called for a cut.

He declared a temporary halt, suggesting they take a break to recalibrate before proceeding.

The tranquil set instantly burst into a clamor. Assistants rushed to their actors, offering water and dabbing sweat to prevent smudged makeup; makeup artists followed closely with their kits in hand, ready to touch up. The cinematographer reviewed the footage, while crew members immediately worked to reset the scene. Everyone was occupied, no one daring to incur the director's wrath by interrupting his solitude.

— Scratch that, someone did approach him.

A figure, previously crouching on the sidelines, rose and took a few steps forward, then squatted beside the director again, extending a greeting.

The director, upon seeing the person, finally rested his gaze on the attire, his furrowed brows relaxing slightly as he said, "Indeed, this seems more fitting."

Chen Bai asked, "Was that scene earlier the one where the male lead's letter shredding is discovered by the female lead?"

"Yes."

The director confirmed with a nod, casually grabbing a script from nearby to hand over. As he passed it, realization struck him and he asked, "How did you know?"

He still held the complete script in his hands; the man before him should have only had portions of the script and teleplay featuring A Huai.

Chen Bai accepted the script, thanked him, and then chuckled, "Didn't we receive an electronic copy of the script on contract signing day?"

Though he said so, the truth was that the contract was only signed yesterday, and this particular plot point was already nearing the middle of the story.

The director straightened his posture slightly, inquiring, "How much have you read?"

Chen Bai merely gestured a short distance with his hand, saying, "Just a little bit, not much."

Indeed, staying up late to read through the script a few extra times was the right choice.

The actual filming set bears certain distinctions from the mere script on paper; observing the set without understanding the script would likely yield little in terms of learning.

On the second day, he had several scenes scheduled for him, and his primary task for this day was to observe closely, to have a clear grasp of what was expected.

The observation session concluded by late afternoon, and it was then time for him to return home to prepare dinner.

On his way back, he happened upon his newly-minted makeup artist friend who had just finished purchasing some essentials. The makeup artist conveniently handed over an extraneous item to him, asking for assistance in disposing of it.

The extraneous item was a flyer. The makeup artist had taken it, but momentarily couldn't find a place to discard it. The trash bin in the makeup room was already overflowing, leaving no space for the flyer.

Chen, a helpful citizen, accepted the flyer and casually glanced down, discovering it was a supermarket promotional leaflet—a potent tool for capturing hearts.

"…"

His eyes, originally lazily drooping, gradually opened as they skimmed over the contents of the flyer.

—

At another filming location, in an old factory that had ceased operations years ago.

With the workload increasing, efficiency was higher than usual, allowing Xu Sinian to finish his scenes early, and his several assistants could also clock out ahead of schedule as a result.

It was now around dinnertime, and one of the assistants, already putting on her coat, asked, "Mr. Xu, are you going for dinner?"

After donning his coat, Xu Sinian deftly fastened his watch, replying, "I won't be joining you. Go ahead."

The assistant had expected as much, bidding him farewell as she watched him depart. These past few days, their work hours had consistently ended close to dinnertime, and they would ask him every day, only to receive the same answer. They could guess that he must have something else to attend to after work.

Contrary to what the assistant assumed, Xu Sinian didn't have any specific engagements; he simply preferred to head back at this hour.

After walking through this old neighborhood a few times, the route became etched in his memory, with little changing from day to day. Passing by the street, he glanced at the locksmith's shop, noticing it was closed.

Beyond the locksmith's was the residential building.

Ascending the stairs, the stairwell was silent except for the rhythmic sound of his footsteps.

His neighbor seemed to possess an uncanny ability to precisely open the door just as Xu Sinian reached the top of the last flight of stairs, greeting him with a cheerful "Good evening," before presenting him with a meal that could serve as either breakfast or dinner, depending on his preference.

As always, Xu Sinian ascended the stairs.

This time, reaching the end of the staircase, the neighboring door did not spring open as usual.

Standing before his door, he glanced sideways at the adjacent, aged entrance, then retracted his gaze, bowing his head to retrieve the key to his own door.