Chapter 30: Credits Accumulated

Chapter 30: Credits Accumulated

Not hearing a response, suspecting a glitch, Chen Bai asked, "Comrade Little Xu?"

"..."

After a protracted silence that had him questioning his connection, a low voice finally crackled through the headset: "I'm here."

The response was somewhat tardy.

With no action required on his end, the system automatically took over, casting a four-point vote on his behalf and advancing his plane four steps forward.

Landing precisely on the spot where only one other plane had taken off, he stomped back the opponent's aircraft to its starting point.

"..."

This time, it was Pink-haired's turn for silence, having been struck down by his teammate.

With the love-struck God of Fortune still in close proximity, he couldn't afford to make a scene; instead, he shed silent, broad-noodle tears as he attempted to take flight once more.

He rolled another 1, an odd number, unable to take off.

It looked somewhat pitiful, and the person on the other end of the phone apologized.

Chen Moubai didn't think it was his loyal teammate's fault. He believed that there might have been an issue with the network or the system just now, and said it was alright.

The dice made a full circle and finally returned to him. He closed his eyes and rolled a double, finally able to take off.

Good Neighbor asked where he was now, much like their previous casual chats.

"It's a long story, I'm currently in the east of the city, with a... friend," he replied, almost blurting out "client," but changed his words out of habit, even though the client, who was sleeping soundly, probably couldn't hear him.

"Friend?" Good Neighbor asked, "Is it the friend you used to play games with?"

Chen Bai truthfully answered no.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. Then, Good Neighbor asked when he would return to the filming crew. He glanced at the person next to him, moved away a bit, and said, "My friend is drunk, I'll go back after I send him home."

The good neighbor responded with a soft acknowledgment after the silence.

Indeed, by the end of the game of aeroplane chess, he found himself predictably at the bottom of the rankings.

In the game of two sets of flying chess, his record stands at one last place and one second to last. It cannot be described as particularly glorious, but it can certainly be said to bring a great deal of clarity to one's mind.

Regaining his composure, it was about time for his friend to arrive. He bid farewell to his good neighbor and removed his headphones.

Perhaps due to a sense of guilt from stepping on his airplane earlier, the neighbor guy was notably more taciturn today.

I sent my reserved neighbor brother a pat-on-the-back sticker, making plans to play together again sometime. Only then did the considerate Pink-haired put away her phone and began to wait quietly for Caisen's friend.

Caisen's friend's surname was Zhang. He couldn't recall his given name, only that it was something Zhang, a three-character name.

The three-character-name Zhang arrived right on the hour mark.

"Creak—"

"Knock knock."

Having just finished drinking and setting down the glass—its clink against the tabletop barely echoing—the door to Chen Bai's room was knocked upon. Rising from his seat, Chen Bai proceeded to answer it.

Standing at the threshold was a man clad in a garish shirt, whose entrance was immediately followed by a waft of tobacco.

Lifting his gaze to meet the stranger's eyes, their gazes locked for a moment.

"…"

The man in the garish shirt, Zhang, still had his hand raised as if to knock again. Lowering his head, he seemed taken aback for a second before blurting out, "You're that guy from the engagement party?"

Strange and abrupt as this question might sound in this context, Pink-haired somehow understood what he meant, recognizing the reference to the engagement banquet.

Zhang removed the cigarette dangling from his lips and asked, "Can you handle the smell of smoke?"

Though Chen Bai did not smoke himself and could not say he enjoyed the scent, he could tolerate it.

Nonetheless, Zhang extinguished his cigarette.

Chen Bai felt that the narrative was veering off course, or rather, the basic character profiles were diverging significantly from what he had been led to believe.

This Zhang Something seemed overly polite. According to the book's setup, the Supporting Actor and the God of Wealth were in a tumultuous love affair, and a significant portion of that tumult came from this friend of the God of Wealth.

Zhang Something looked down on the Supporting Actor, or rather, he equally despised every substitute around the God of Wealth, his words venomously sharp. The Supporting Actor suffered immensely, with no shortage of his contribution to the torment.

An overly courteous friend entered the room, surveyed the scene, then hoisted up the person slumped on the couch.

It was clear he was preparing to leave directly.

Pink-haired stood to the side, putting on a hat and mask, then grabbing the essential umbrella and bouquet, finally casually picking up the God of Wealth's coat to drape over his arm.

Zhang Something glanced at the flowers in his hand, didn't comment further, and struggled to carry the person out.

His car was parked in the underground garage, thankfully it wasn't the two-seater sports car he usually drove, which could only accommodate two people, but today's vehicle could fit two people and an inebriated guest.

He had come out to play today, driving himself without a chauffeur, and now after serving as a porter, he had to immediately take on the role of a driver again.

The God of Wealth was moved to the backseat to continue lying down, and to avoid any accidents from a sudden brake, Chen Bai also took a seat in the rear.

He could be squeezed, but the flowers couldn't, so the sunflower bouquet successfully claimed the passenger seat, even buckling up its seatbelt in strict adherence to traffic rules.

Zhang Something cast a sideways glance at the flower that Huochuan had securely fastened with a seatbelt, initiating conversation: "You really treasure this flower, huh?"

Chen Bai nodded affirmatively: "You bet."

After all, it was something he had paid for; damaging even a single bloom would be disrespectful to his wallet.

The roar of the engine echoed as the vehicle departed from the parking lot.

The journey from here to Huochuan's residence was roughly a twenty-minute drive, not an excessive distance.

During this not-so-lengthy span, Zhang Something gained ample insight into the person seated behind him—a stark contrast to the individuals who had previously surrounded his friend.

—Primarily due to his chattiness and remarkable ease in familiarity.

It felt as if they had known each other for eight lifetimes, with his companion adeptly responding to every topic he introduced.

This individual was refreshingly candid, neither subconsciously seeking approval nor feigning aloofness; he simply enjoyed engaging in conversation.

For the first time, Zhang Something found a half-hour car ride rather brief. It wasn't until the navigation system notified them of their imminent arrival at the destination that he realized they had indeed reached their location.

He also had a place here, entering the parking lot as the property owner. After parking his car, he began doing the laborious work of moving once again.

Pink-haired, holding flowers, supported him spiritually.

Zhang was grateful for the spiritual support.

The elevator ascended and then stopped before the front door. He used the hands of the person on him to open the door, and after a series of maneuvers, he tossed the person onto the sofa.

He threw them without any hesitation, clearly indicating they were good friends.

Pink-haired didn't come in, standing at the doorway to hand over the flowers and the coat.

Zhang was taken aback for a moment, asking, "You're not coming in?"

This was such a perfect chance to enter the house openly.

But Pink-haired hadn't intended to intrude into their home. Having delivered his charge safely, the 120k salary was as good as in his pocket, and he had no intention of prolonging his working hours unnecessarily. Chen Bai said, "No, I have work tomorrow."

Zhang could only reach out to take the coat and the flowers.

Pink-haired gave her instructions: "Please remember to tell Mr. Huochuan that the flowers are for his aunt."

"Ring ——"

The latter half of his sentence was drowned out by the sudden ringing from inside the floral shirt pocket of the person opposite him. Fortunately, it seemed that his lucky god friend had heard clearly, assuring that he would pass on the message.

With everything taken care of, Pink-haired left with peace of mind.

In the city center, one could always hail a taxi no matter how late it was. With the promise of having his round-trip fare covered, he didn't hesitate to get into a taxi.

When he returned to the film crew that night, it was already past midnight. After finishing his evening ablutions around 1 AM, thinking it was still early, he sent a message to his good neighbor, informing them of his safe return to the hotel. Following this, he also sent today's cab fare invoice to his good client.

Having sent off the invoice, it was yet another day of bountiful earnings.

---

Rain fell throughout the entire night, turning into a drizzle by the next day but showing no signs of stopping, continuing relentlessly.

Huochuan woke up on the sofa in his own house.

His head was muddled as he sat up from the couch, glancing down at his shirt sleeves that remained rolled up.

It was still the same outfit from yesterday.

"Hey, you're awake."

As he moved, the man sitting far away, engrossed in his phone while sipping soy milk, turned to glance at him. He casually snapped a photo with his phone before lowering it to type something, all the while complaining about how Huochuan didn't have a housekeeper to cook breakfast and had to order takeout if he wanted to eat.

Reaching up to loosen his tie, Huochuan leaned back on the sofa. "What are you taking a picture for?"

Zhang Whatever said, "Take a photo to send to your little lover, at least let him know you're awake."

Huochuan leaned over to grab the water cup on the table, tilting his head back to drink, and said, "He and I aren't like that."

"Ho."

Zhang Whatever didn't seem convinced but didn't press further. He pointed to the bouquet sitting peacefully on the table and said, "This was specifically instructed to be given to you."

—Yesterday, he missed what the person said due to his phone ringing, but he could guess more or less what they had said.

Only Huochuan and he were there; the flowers couldn't possibly be for him—it was clear who they were for.

Thick, overcast clouds loomed outside the window. The gray table by the glass windowpane lent to the cold ambiance, but amidst it all, the vibrant sunflowers stood as the sole warmth, naturally insulated from the damp chill and gloom beyond.

Huochuan recalled these very flowers; he had seen them when someone entered the room yesterday.

"..."

His gaze lingered on the flowers for a moment longer. After a brief silence, he looked up again and said, "Did you add him on WeChat?"

Such a slow response time.

"Last night we chatted quite well, so I added him on the spur of the moment."

Zhang nodded as he finished his soy milk and started munching on a steamed bun, saying between bites, "Rest assured, I'm not so beastly as to make a move on just anyone; I just wanted to get to know him."

"The person treasures this bouquet; it's a shame to have it in your hands." He nodded toward the flowers, his gaze flickering to the person sitting on the sofa, continuing, "I remember he was the one at Qian Duoduo's engagement party."

Huochuan undid a few buttons on his shirt and got up to wash up, acknowledging the statement with a simple, "Yes." He didn't particularly want to continue this line of conversation or reiterate the true nature of his relationship with Pink-haired.

"I know, it's all about money."

Zhang, without any sense of waiting for the other to finish freshening up, and with no intention of dropping the topic, followed them into the washroom, saying, "But I think he was probably genuine about you."

The sound of shattering glass that day sent chills down everyone's spine, even causing a slight stinging in their eardrums. In such a situation, no one could claim it was just about the money when they charged forward.

"That incident has been over for so long, you can't hold onto it forever," he said. "Why not take this chance to find someone who truly cares for you? It wouldn't be bad, would it?"

"Whoosh—"

The florid-shirted man's words went unanswered, drowned out only by the continuous sound of running water from the washroom.

---

After returning to the hotel for a night's rest, Chen Bai showed up for work on time the next day.

During his morning break, figuring that God of Fortune should have woken up by now, no matter how drunk he was, he settled back into his small stool and picked up his phone, intending to send a message.

God of Fortune had indeed awoken, as was evident from the messages received from the newly added friend.

Thanks to the mysterious tip-off from someone surnamed Zhang, Chen Moubai was able to precisely locate the God of Wealth in his chat list.

Although he had already informed someone surnamed Zhang yesterday that the flowers were for Huo's mother, he forgot to mention it would be best if they could be delivered early to the manor.

The God of Wealth has a habit of returning to the manor after finishing a job, which is why he wanted someone to relay the flowers. However, if he returned too late, the flowers might start to wilt.

Coincidentally, as he was typing, the person on the other end was also inputting something.

Before his message could send, a notification popped up about a transaction - his bank account was credited with exactly 200,000 yuan.

Following this, a message from the God of Wealth appeared, stating that the remuneration had been sent and the extra was for the cost of the flowers this time. He also informed him that there was no need to bring flowers when they meet in the future.

"…"

Chen Moubai glanced at the text he had already typed into the chat box and swiftly deleted it in silence, replying simply with "okay."

Something seemed to have gone awry at some point, leading the God of Wealth to misunderstand something.

Between explaining the situation and accepting the 80,000 yuan, a pragmatic person would choose to accept the 80,000 yuan and, in turn, order another bouquet of flowers to be delivered to the manor.

Having arranged for the flowers, the break time just came to an end.

Rainy days have scenes that need to be shot in the rain, and he spent most of his day today shooting opposite the lead actor.

Time was tight and the workload heavy, but progress wasn't swift.

The main issue lay with Zhou Jing. No matter how the director shot him, he wasn't satisfied. A single take would result in over ten NGs, and the surrounding staff were so stifled they dared not speak.

He had chosen him himself and had no intention of replacing him. The director berated him while trying to explain the scene, his throat looking as if it was about to emit smoke.

From morning till night, the progress barely reached the set standard by the end of the day.

In the following days, everyone on the crew could see that something was off with Zhou Jing. He struggled to get into character when filming and looked exhausted, to the point where he could fall asleep sitting on a chair.

Watching the director call over the listless man again, Chen Bai squatted on a small stool and asked his third male co-star buddy beside him, "His recent state doesn't seem quite right, does it?"

Even if he was scolded by the director every day, it shouldn't have come to this extent.

"You didn't know?" The buddy glanced back at him and then slapped his head, "Right, you wouldn't have known."

He said, "Wasn't there a rookie in the makeup department who got fired yesterday? It's related to this incident. He didn't follow the rules and secretly recorded a video of the director berating Zhou Jing, then anonymously posted it online."

Those new to the industry, upon gaining access to information they previously couldn't, can't help but feel a sense of superiority and an urge to share, thinking that anonymity will shield them from consequences. But he was identified within days.

He committed what is most taboo in this line of work, and his future prospects in the industry are likely doomed.

While he was indeed fired, the video remains online. Having been shared and reposted by too many people, deleting it later would be futile.

The prevailing online sentiment now is to criticize Zhou Jing and demand that the director replace the lead actor, while Zhou Jing's fans are lashing out at the director.

In the end, both parties were enduring criticism, shouldering no small amount of pressure.

Celebrities are human too; even if they deliberately avoid these messages, when they open their phones and see notifications from various apps, it's inevitable that they'll catch sight of something. After seeing it, their mood sours and the pressure intensifies, making it harder to perform. Judging by how he looks, he probably hasn't slept well and hasn't been eating properly either.

That must indeed be tough. Chen Bai nodded in understanding.

Then they watched as the person who had been called by the director for a talk approached after their conversation.

The third male lead doesn't share many scenes with this person, so he doesn't often interact with them despite their high traffic status and the harsh criticism they receive. Seeing this person walking over, he felt a momentary surge of nervousness.

Fortunately, the person wasn't coming for him.

Approaching the man seated on a folding stool, Zhou Jing lowered his head to look at the man in the dark blue robe and asked, "Do you have time tonight?"

He clearly had something he wanted to say.

Due to the late end of the performance tonight, there wasn't enough time for a lengthy livestream session. Chen Bai had originally planned to use this time to continue his studies.

But after all, he was the ever-helpful Chen Erbai. So he said, "If it won't take too long."

Receiving Zhou Jing's nod of affirmation, he didn't linger here any longer and returned to his position to resume reading the script.

Watching him leave, his companion was somewhat worried, asking, "He came to you for no reason; could he be thinking about something?"

Chen Bai smiled slightly. "No."

In the evening, after days of rain, there was a brief respite. However, as soon as the production team finished work, the drizzle resumed.

As usual, Pink-haired's luck held true; halfway back to the hotel, a heavy downpour drenched him head to toe.

Back in his room, Chen Bai took a shower at the first opportunity. He slipped into his plain, classic 39.9 outfit and, while drying his hair, turned on his computer.

Zhou Jing arrived just as he pulled out his laptop, right on schedule.

Hearing a knock at the door, he wrapped a towel around his head and went to open it.

There stood Grey-haired, whose hair also appeared damp.

Finding a fellow drenched soul, Chen Bai felt a glimmer of joy. "Did you get caught in the rain too?"

Zhou Jing: "Huh?"

Chen Bai smiled. "Never mind."

Good, indeed, he was the only one who had been caught in the rain.

Sopping wet, Pink-haired ushered Zhou Jing into the room.

Unlike what his friend might have imagined, Zhou Jing wasn't bogged down with many thoughts. He was there simply to rehearse lines, carrying a thick script and screenplay in hand.

With more scenes to share tomorrow, going over their lines in advance would give them a better grasp of what's ahead and might help salvage the lagging schedule.

After seating his guest on the couch, Chen Bai turned to fetch the script and sides from his room, remarking upon his return, "If we're running through the script, perhaps we could also do so during breaks in daylight."

His words carried no ulterior motives; they were simply a suggestion of an efficient approach that seemed feasible to him.

Seated on the couch, Zhou Jing looked up at him. Upon confirming that there was no hidden sentiment in his eyes, he exhaled slowly, saying, "I'm afraid rumors will spread again."

He risked being criticized and photographed, and even practicing with someone else could spark whispers about feigned effort masking inadequate acting skills. More action led to more mistakes, leaving him with no choice but to rehearse privately.

In short, he wanted to quietly outperform expectations.

Respecting people's choices, Pink-haired took his seat on the couch, pulling out his phone to review tomorrow's shooting schedule while marking relevant sections of the script and sides with a pen.

Zhou Jing had already prepared for this encounter, memorizing lines from several segments. As his companion made annotations, he silently recited his lines once more.

He assumed it would take some time for his companion to get the lines down, but in reality, it didn't need to be a lengthy process.

Chen Bai quickly selected the segments they needed to focus on and then announced they could begin.

Zhou Jing asked him, "No need to memorize the lines?"

Pink-haired put down the script in his hands and said, "I've got them roughly memorized."

Zhou Jing nodded in response, thinking that 'roughly memorized' should be enough.

- He originally thought that when this person said 'roughly', they meant it quite literally.

But after going through two segments, he finally understood that 'roughly' was merely a modest understatement for this individual.

This person had every line, every movement, and every subtle pause committed to memory. Even during private rehearsals, they could quickly get into character, with no difference from an official performance.

Zhou Jing felt once again that familiar yet subtle sense of pressure.

This feeling was particularly intense when acting opposite the female lead, who was a seasoned actress with numerous awards under her belt. Yet, acting with this person also evoked that same subtle sensation.

The female actress had been in the industry for many years and had won numerous awards, but this wasn't the case for the other party, who was just starting out. According to rumors, they'd only played a role that could at best be considered a significant supporting character.

After pushing through to finish the last line, Zhou Jing let out a breath, tensed then relaxed against the sofa. He picked up the script set aside, and said, "…talent is truly frightening."

Chen Bai: "Hm?"

Zhou Jing, his fingers subconsciously fiddling with the script, his voice somewhat hoarse, said, "I didn't graduate from a performing arts school, and my previous role wasn't that of an actor. I can't compete with professionally trained actors in terms of expertise, nor can I match the acting skills of naturally gifted newcomers."

Chen Bai understood, realizing he seemed to be that gifted newcomer.

He waved his hand. "This isn't about talent; it's the result of learning, and it's not as good as you might think right now."

Then he continued, "If you didn't graduate from a performing arts school, then just go learn."

Courses from film academies are available on the school's shared course website, covering both practical and theoretical aspects, avoiding superficial demonstrations, offering solid content, and featuring lectures by national first-class actors. They're worth having.

It sounded correct, but in reality, it was more like an empty statement. Zhou Jing felt that under the intensity of this production team, it would be extremely difficult for a normal person to find time to study.

Before being expelled from the human race, Pink-haired pulled out his nearly filled notebook.

Zhou Jing: "?"

—Someone really could do it.

The man wasn't spouting empty words; he was stating facts.

Chen Bai, with the script rolled up in his hand, reiterated the truth, "It's better to get up and study than to lie awake at night, tossing and turning, doing sit-ups because of the reviews from strangers on the internet."

Zhou Jing: "…"

Zhou Jing found what he said made sense.

He corrected him, saying, "I didn't do any tossing and turning or sit-ups either."

Chen Bai: "So you really lost sleep over those reviews."

"..."

Zhou Jing rubbed his face. "...Don't you dare tell anyone."

Thus, Chen Moubai's study group grew by one.

Zhou Jing acquired a new notebook and the opportunity to study together in the bedroom.

The new notebook served as Pink-haired's backup notes 2.0, not a freebie but something he had to pay for.

As the other party put it, a few dollars were still money.

With a complicated mix of emotions, he paid up and suggested that if one was to study, the living room would be a better option.

Chen Moubai silently showed him the desktop computer already set up in the room.

Good news: The large screen was easier on the eyes.

Bad news: It wasn't portable.

"..."

Zhou Jing was momentarily at a loss whether to be astonished that this person had quietly installed a desktop computer in the room or that he could assemble one by hand.

In the end, he chose to ask, "What are those things around the screen?"

He was referring to the livestreaming equipment.

He looked at Pink-haired, who looked back at him.

After a moment of mutual staring, Chen Moubai raised his hand to tousle his hair with a laugh.

It was a laugh that could be described in many ways – perfunctory yet earnest in its own right.

Author's Note:

Piecing together Comrade Little Xu, mending him haphazardly, dusting him off; he's still good for use.

All characters in the text are purely original creations, unrelated to any real-life individuals or events.