Chapter 54: Acquired – Boyfriend’s Coat

Chapter 54: Acquired - Boyfriend's Coat

The agent lifted his gaze to watch the figure sitting to one side put down the script and rise, white hair mingling with hanging hemp strips as they swept through the air. Assisted by an aide, he descended the stairs, turning his head to quietly thank the aide in passing.

Perhaps he didn't need the aide's support at all; despite the bandages over his eyes, he moved swiftly and confidently, descending the stairs at a rapid pace. The aide, frightened, gripped his arm tightly, while he himself seemed entirely at ease, appearing completely fearless.

Upon reaching the inn's ground floor, a staff member handed him a long sword wrapped in rags, instructing him on how to hold it. This scene began as he stepped into the inn.

The aide departed, the other actors took their positions, and the director behind the camera silently counted down.

As the silent countdown reached its final second, the man with disheveled white hair stepped into the inn.

The inn was bustling with activity, voices clamoring and echoing, creating a lively atmosphere.

The man in tattered outerwear stood out starkly against this backdrop. As he entered the establishment, everyone fell silent, turning to look at him, instinctively stepping back to keep a distance.

The innkeeper, standing behind the counter, spat under his breath, "That madman is here again," and stepped out from behind the counter to chase him away.

Just as he called the man a madman, fearing a violent reaction, the innkeeper changed his tone when he approached, addressing him as "guest" and politely urging him to move along if he wasn't planning to eat or drink there.

The madman lived up to his name, seemingly ignoring the innkeeper's words altogether. He proceeded to plant the long sword, wrapped in rags, on the ground before retrieving it and heading straight for the stairs.

Just like his descent earlier, each step was taken without hesitation. He ascended the stairs with such ease that it was easy to forget he was blind.

Upstairs, the swordsman sat in his usual spot, noticing the subtle commotion. He turned his head and, amidst the crowd moving about, spotted the figure ascending the stairs.

Eye-catching yet silent, he moved with confidence up the stairs but hesitated upon reaching the second floor, neither advancing nor retreating.

The swordsman gently placed his teacup back on the table, the soft clink easily drowned out by the surrounding chatter and footsteps. Yet in that instant, the man, seemingly dulled by his surroundings, suddenly turned his head and walked directly toward the swordsman, his shoulders brushing against those who passed by.

Those who collided with him looked annoyed, turning to scold him, only to see the disheveled white hair and soiled clothes. Their words died in their throats as they quickened their pace, distancing themselves from him.

The man, referred to by the innkeeper as a madman, walked straight to the swordsman's table, stopping beside it. He asked, "Are you the All-Things Blade?"

His voice was hoarse, low, and soft, with a tone unlike that of ordinary conversation. It wasn't a dialect but rather a peculiar sluggishness and oddity resulting from prolonged silence.

He was akin to a true daytime specter, his voice alone placing him almost beyond the realm of human.

The swordsman, Chu Mingyuan, subconsciously leaned forward, pressing his curved blade under his hand, finally meeting the man's gaze—genuinely, in every sense of the word.

In the scene, the inn was alive with activity upstairs and downstairs, yet outside the lens, everything was quiet.

The camera, mounted on a track, moved silently. The director and cinematographer watched the unfolding scene within the frame, while the agent and aide, among other staff members, observed the two figures standing and sitting beside the table.

There was no overpowering performance.

From their movements to their speech speed, both actors maintained their own rhythms, neither swayed by the other. The most immediate impression was stability, a steadiness across the board.

A heart-wrenching scene passed smoothly and evenly.

The script supervisor clapped the slate, signaling the end of the work session. The so-called madman didn't immediately remove the hemp strips from his head. Instead, he first placed the prop on the table, stretching his stiff wrist, then politely said to the swordsman colleague, "Hard work."

Chu Mingyuan looked over, his gaze lingering for a moment, then nodded in response.

With the polite exchange concluded, Chen Yibai retrieved the rag-wrapped object from the table and turned toward his agent and trusted aide.

His eyes were still covered by the bandages, yet he walked with complete disregard for potential obstacles, seemingly unafraid of falling. While he wasn't afraid, his agent and aide were, practically leaping to stop him and quickly moving to support him.

The stylist also approached, swiftly helping to untie the cloth bandage.

Regaining sight, his eyes initially struggled to adjust. Chen Yibai squinted into the dimness for a moment before opening his eyes fully.

Upon opening his eyes, his first action was to hand the ragged sword back to the approaching props team staff member, asking, "Is this thing real?"

He stated factually, "This thing is heavier than my debts."

The staff member perceived this as a novel form of humor, praising his apt metaphor. Nodding, he replied, "It's real, made by someone I know, just not sharpened."

An ordinary props team employee, known even to the blacksmith, had crafted it.

Chen Yibai glanced sideways, acknowledging the hidden talents within the props team.

The props team member departed with the heavy rag-wrapped sword, while Chen Yibai, now able to see, returned to his small stool.

The next scene involved the leading lady and the second female lead, unrelated to them. The crew was currently readjusting the set and camera positions, allowing them a brief respite.

Given that it was an inn, there was no shortage of stools, with several scattered around. The agent pulled over a rectangular bench and sat down, leaning close to the white-haired figure. Patting his shoulder, she whispered, "Impressive, you!"

It turned out that resilience wasn't just talk; he genuinely rose to the occasion when faced with challenges.

Playing a blind person was already difficult, and the previous actor had been thoroughly overshadowed. Under such circumstances, the pressure intensified, significantly increasing the likelihood of needing multiple takes. Surprisingly, he managed to maintain composure.

Chen Yibai retrieved the script from his aide, smiling. "I just avoided any NGs."

Avoiding NGs didn't equate to excellence, merely an average take.

The agent felt that his standards for "good" might be excessively high. She asked, "When did you figure out the nuances of portraying blindness and delivering your lines?"

Portraying a blind character was challenging to grasp. Overdoing it could result in a portrayal of pure foolishness, while underplaying it would make the character indistinguishable from a normal person. In short, it was a tricky role to handle.

When he spoke his lines earlier, she felt goosebumps, noticing the director's widened eyes as well.

Leaving aside the visuals for the moment, his delivery of the lines had surpassed expectations, even exceeding the director's anticipations.

Yet, he had spent most of his time with her, either sleeping, chatting, or occasionally reading the script. She hadn't noticed him delving into any specific preparations.

Chen Yibai smiled. "There's plenty of time in the evenings."

From receiving the script to joining the production team, although the schedule was tight, it still amounted to about a month. Since moving into the hotel, he no longer had to stream live, leaving his evenings free. Apart from reading the script and chatting with his good neighbor, there was still quite some time left, which could be used for research.

His agent was alert, asking, "When do you go to sleep at night?"

The person nearby raised their hand in a victory sign.

Translation: two in the morning.

"…"

The agent wanted to smack the person's head but then remembered that this messy white hair was distinctively styled, the result of a stylist's efforts. He restrained himself and said, "Your brain really can't be worn out."

The white-haired one modestly attributed it to his parents' doing as usual.

The method of delivering lines earlier had hurt his throat. While they were talking, the assistant prepared a soothing tea, warm, in a thermos cup, and stood by, extending it over.

Chen Yibai took it, drank a couple of hearty gulps while holding it, and then gave a thumbs up, saying thanks.

The emotional value was fully delivered, and the assistant smiled, eyes curving.

As they laughed here, across the tables and chairs in the middle of the inn, Chu Mingyuan, having finished shooting the previous scene, sat by the wall, taking a sip from the water offered by his agent.

The agent adjusted his glasses, nodding slightly toward the center of the crowd sitting opposite him, asking, "What do you think of him?"

This 'him' referred to Chen Yibai, who had just acted alongside him.

Chu Mingyuan looked in the direction the agent indicated, glanced once, then withdrew his gaze, saying, "Not bad."

Saying 'not bad' meant he had surpassed the passing grade. The agent nodded, saying, "I also think he's pretty good."

He said, "After all, he's been in the industry for less than a year."

Due to being in different fields, he had heard of this person before but hadn't bothered to learn more. After finding out they were in the same production team, he did some shallow research, becoming increasingly amazed the more he learned.

Some information couldn't be hidden within the circle; it circulated freely. In the past two days, he had inquired around and heard that the person wasn't from a drama school and didn't know what he was doing before entering the industry,总之, it had nothing to do with this line of work.

To reach where he was now in just one year since entering the industry, apart from other factors behind the scenes, his innate talent was also terrifying.

At least, not everyone could hone such a solid foundation in delivering lines.

"Perhaps he'll go quite high in the future," the agent turned his head, asking, "Have you added him on WeChat? Maybe you could chat."

He said, "I heard that on the first day of filming, he added quite a few people on WeChat."

Chu Mingyuan: "Didn't add him."

The agent's gaze was strangely sympathetic. "Oh."

The day's shooting tasks began in the afternoon and ended promptly at eight in the evening. Chen Yibai returned to the hotel with his new buddy Qian Jin as usual.

The young master preferred to endure a standard room rather than climb an extra floor, staying on the second floor, parting ways with him at the second-floor staircase.

Without needing to use his evenings for streaming as usual, they became moments for chatting with his good neighbor. Chen Yibai quickly showered, then sprawled on the bed with the script, nestled under the covers, and immediately pulled out his phone. After replying to messages from Goddess of Fortune Sister and others, he scrolled up the list, accurately found his good neighbor, made a call, and propped the phone against the bed's backrest.

The good neighbor answered the call quickly, picking up after just two rings.

It was a video call, and upon connecting, a magnified handsome face appeared. Chen Moubai swiftly took a screenshot, smiling. "Another chat background."

The good neighbor let him take it.

Chen Moubai wasn't a crazed fan. After taking two screenshots to use as chat backgrounds, he retracted his hand, unfolding the script he had brought to bed.

Making a call, but without anything particularly significant to say, he chatted while looking at the script, discussing trivial events of the day, speaking as thoughts came to him.

As they talked, flipping through another page of the script, he happened to come across the plot of the first scene shot today. He remembered something, raising his head. "Today, I acted in two scenes with Chu Mingyuan."

The good neighbor acknowledged, asking how it felt.

Chen Bai thought for a moment, saying, "A bit subtle."

Although both his agent and the director praised him, saying he could handle Chu Mingyuan's acting, he knew his true state.

He handled the acting and maintained stability, appearing fine on the surface, but to maintain composure and avoid being led into rhythm, he kept a string in his mind, not completely immersing himself in the role.

In a way, it was similar to the problem he encountered when playing Xu Yifan.

This time, however, he wasn't unable to enter the role but chose not to immerse himself, deliberately dividing his attention.

The good neighbor didn't elaborate, only suggesting, "You can watch his previous works."

Chen Yibai ruffled his messy hair, nodding.

The voice from the phone said again, "Tomorrow, the temperature will continue to drop on your side. The town is colder than the city area. There's a jacket in your suitcase; remember to wear it when you go out."

Chen Bai burrowed further into the blankets, acknowledging. Raising his eyes, he asked curiously, "How does Comrade Old Xu know the weather here?"

Comrade Old Xu's expression remained unchanged as he said, "Just happened to see it."

Afterward, he repeated the reminder to remember the jacket.

Comrade Little Chen briefly saluted, saying he would definitely complete the organizational task.

Comrade Old Xu smiled.

A random, aimless chat, the two people's call ended with a red battery warning on a certain Bai's phone.

Feeling like they hadn't talked for long or said much, after hanging up, when he picked up his phone to find a charger, he looked down and realized that they had unknowingly talked for quite some time.

"Call Duration: 43:55"

"..."

No wonder the phone was out of power.

The cooling began that very evening, with the room's windows open, allowing the wind to breeze in. Dressed in light clothing, Chen Moubai could feel the chill as soon as he left the warmth of his bed. Finding the charger, he slowly powered up his device before returning to the comfort of his blankets.

The next day, it rained again.

The weather forecast had been surprisingly accurate for once; by morning, the temperature had dropped significantly, and one could feel the biting cold upon waking.

His mind wasn't fully functional in the morning, but he did remember the good neighbor's repeated reminder about wearing a jacket. With barely opened eyes, Chen Moubai opened the suitcase in the corner of the room, pulled out the jacket from its compartment without much scrutiny, and slipped it on. He stuffed his phone and keys into his pockets, grabbed the script, and headed out the door.

When he arrived at the makeup room, his agent and assistant had just gotten there as well, breakfast freshly placed on the table.

Raindrops pounded against the window as the man entered the room with disheveled white hair, still carrying the drowsiness of sleep. The oversized jacket enveloped him, creating an unexpectedly warm and cozy appearance.

The sleeves and hem were slightly long, revealing a glimpse of pale fingers, a testament to the presence of hands beneath the cover.

Some clothes instantly revealed their origin, whose wardrobe they belonged to. The agent, choosing between asking questions and giving compliments, opted to take two photos with her phone. Before Chen Moubai could raise his scissors hand gesture, she quickly put her phone away, tapped the screen a couple of times, and said, "I've sent the pictures to your friend."

Before embarking on this journey, on the day when she witnessed a certain award-winning actor helping pack the luggage while Chen Moubai lay sprawled on the bed asleep, she had incidentally exchanged contact information with his friend.

At the time, she didn't know what purpose this exchange would serve, but now, everything became clear.

To say the least, sending pictures was quite convenient.

Chen Yibai was accustomed to being photographed, only slightly regretting that his scissors hand wasn't captured. He rolled up the excessively long sleeves, and the assistant handed him a soy milk, soothing his disappointed heart.

The agent watched as he attempted to sip the soy milk while rolling up his sleeves, asking, "Why did you remember to wear a jacket today?"

For this person, simply having a functioning brain in the morning was already commendable. His perception of temperature changes was dull, and unless winter suddenly arrived, it was unlikely for him to remember to bring a jacket during such a groggy morning.

"My friend reminded me during our call yesterday."

Finally rolling up his sleeves, Chen Bai sat on a chair, took a hearty sip of soy milk, and said, "He happened to see the weather here last night and mentioned it twice."

The agent glanced sideways. "Just...happened to?"

As the soy milk entered his mouth, his mind gradually woke up. The person sitting on the chair recalled something, straightening his posture slightly, and looked over, saying, "There's another matter here."

From those still somewhat unfocused eyes, the agent faintly detected a hint of seriousness. Thus, she slightly adjusted her attitude, asking, "What is it?"

"It's like this," Chen Yibai tried to adopt a serious expression despite his lingering sleepiness, saying, "If I purchase a product through proper channels for learning purposes, to enhance my abilities and better perform my job, can the company reimburse me for it?"

The agent replied, "Speak plainly."

So Chen Yibai explained, "I want to watch Chu Mingyuan's previous films, but they require a VIP subscription."

Last night, he had agonized over the decision repeatedly, ultimately deciding not to subscribe to the expensive VIP service. Instead, he chose to inquire today, hoping for a chance at reimbursement.

With three million gone from his account, every penny was precious until the remaining endorsement fees arrived.

"..."

This person was genuinely poor inside and out. For a moment, both the agent and the assistant fell silent.

The agent rubbed her face and succinctly said, "Reimbursed."

Even if the company didn't cover it, she would.

Thus, Chen Yibai happily proceeded to activate the VIP service.

The makeup artist, who had just finished a brief meeting in another room, entered the makeup room afterward, accompanied by Qian Jin's team. The three parties engaged in a friendly gathering.

Time flew in the production crew. With daily schedules packed, people would collapse onto their beds at night, and days passed in this manner.

Initially, due to the weather and various other reasons, progress was slow, with everyone rushing to catch up. The atmosphere in the group was tense. Later, as the weather improved and the problematic rookie actors finally managed to keep pace with the crew after the director's daily lectures and additional learning, all hindrances were eliminated, and progress accelerated rapidly. The mood within the crew relaxed.

Progress wasn't confined to the shooting schedule alone.

Chen Yibai appeared unchanged each day, yet he was indeed learning and growing at a rate imperceptible to the naked eye. By the time others realized it, he had become a little genius in the group, capable of handling scenes opposite the award-winning actor without any pressure.

His buddy Qian Jin felt the competitive spirit, compelled to join in. The two spent their days sitting side by side on stools, watching the award-winning actors spar in their performances, observing and learning.

Watching actors engage in intense acting on-site was entirely different from watching online courses or post-performance analyses. It was more direct and immediate than anything else.

In late autumn, the remnants of summer's heat had vanished last month, and temperatures continued to drop day by day.

It was another sunny day, but the temperature wasn't high. Areas not touched by sunlight remained chilly. After finishing a scene, Chen Yibai, draped in his good neighbor's jacket, sat quietly beside his buddy, watching Chu Mingyuan and the female lead act together.

Both were award winners and veterans in the industry, possessing their own acting systems and habits. Their interaction during the scene was particularly evident.

A short scene was shot with heart-stopping intensity, and only after the clapperboard was struck did the set finally return to its usual bustle.

The male and female leads, who had just been entangled emotionally in the scene, parted ways, exchanging polite nods, each going their separate ways.

This didn't seem like the beginning of a passionate romance destined for an epic love story; it was merely a typical colleague relationship.

Chen Yibai, who had been silently anticipating the birth of gossip, sighed quietly, abandoning any thoughts of joining the commotion.

Beside him, Qian Jin assumed he was sighing due to stress and patted his shoulder in consolation, saying, "We'll reach their level someday."

Hearing this, Chen Yibai turned his head and asked, "Do you think they performed well together?"

Qian Jin nodded. "After all, they're award-winning actors."

If these two acted any more intensely, sparks might literally fly.

As he spoke, realizing something, he turned to look at the person sitting beside him who seemed lost in thought, asking, "Don't you think it's a bit..."

He glanced around at the others, lowering his voice slightly as he leaned in to say, "...odd, isn't it?"

It was quite bold of him to say such things, but being the eldest young master, accustomed to doing as he pleased, he dared to speak his mind.

"Not exactly," Chen Yibai waved his hand, saying, "I just feel that it's different from how he acted in movies and interacted with other actors before."

For a month as a VIP, he wasted not a moment. Besides researching and memorizing scripts, his daily routine included watching films.

He watched both award-winning and non-award-winning movies, comparing them horizontally with similar genre films from the same period. He noticed that the atmosphere between Chu Mingyuan and the female lead or a certain supporting actor in the award-winning films differed somewhat from what he had just seen.

Judging by the results, Chu Mingyuan seemed more compatible with them—or her.

His fingers unconsciously twitched on the script, Chen Bai paused, lowering his eyes, fixing his gaze on a point in the void.

Compatibility.

Chu Mingyuan and the previous actors didn't clash, fighting for dominance or trying to bring the other into their own rhythm. He didn't deliberately overpower them, nor did he lower his standards to accommodate them; instead, they were compatible.

Immersing himself in the emotions and thoughts of the character, he didn't resist the other's rhythm but found a suitable balance within both rhythms. Their dialogue flowed naturally, like an innate chemistry, or rather, it should have been this way all along.

The two actors involved in a scene weren't in a dominant and submissive relationship but went through a process of cooperation. His thinking had been misguided from the start.

"...Chen Yibai?"

Seeing the man suddenly stop mid-sentence, Qian Jin waved his hand slightly, trying to snap him back to reality, asking, "What's wrong?"

Casually pushing back the white hair that had fallen in front of him, his pale gray eyes regained their clarity, Chen Bai smiled, saying, "Nothing."

Supporting his cheek, his sleeve slid down, winding together with his white hair onto the script. His eyes shone brightly as he laughed, saying, "I just figured out something."

Author's note:

Chen Moubai took a screenshot for keepsake. Old Xu remained as steady as an old dog, not taking any screenshots—not because he was aloof, but because he recorded the whole thing directly.