Chapter 50 - 2#
He wasn’t the type to easily give up on something he wanted.
Yu Zhen snorted. “Well, there you have it.”
As the old saying goes, the onlooker sees the game best while the player is lost!
Tonight, he had fully realized it—and he could swear to it—
Chi Gui was absolutely, irrevocably in love with Jing Shun! If his buddy made the first move, the other would probably be over the moon!
“…”
Jing Shun pressed his lips together, feeling like a crumpled, blank sheet of paper when it came to emotions. “There has to be a proper moment, right? You can’t just confess casually.”
Yu Zhen thought for a moment, then crouched back down and suggested, “Your birthday? How about that? Yours or his.”
No sooner had he spoken than footsteps approached from a distance.
Chen Yiming had been out on business tonight and had just returned.
He hadn’t expected to see Jing Shun and Yu Zhen on the main road in front of the gate. He walked over. “Gentlemen, why are you still out here at this hour?”
Yu Zhen took the lead. “I was bored, so I asked Jing Shun to drink with me.”
A glint flickered in Jing Shun’s eyes as he asked, “Assistant Chen, when is Chi Gui’s birthday?”
It had been over half a year, and he realized he still knew very little about Chi Gui.
Though, Chi Gui’s mother had passed away in the early hours after his birth—would he even want to celebrate his birthday?
As a personal assistant, Chen Yiming naturally knew his boss’s birthday. “August 24th.”
“…”
Hearing that string of numbers, Jing Shun was momentarily stunned.
Yu Zhen, oblivious, said, “Doesn’t that leave only half a month?”
Chen Yiming noticed Jing Shun’s surprise and quickly remembered something. “Oh, right, Mr. Jing—aren’t you and Mr. Chi born on the same day?”
Jing Shun nodded, taken aback. “Yes, I’m August 24th too.”
“Whoa~” Yu Zhen teased. “You two really are a match made in heaven.”
Chen Yiming adjusted his glasses. “Mr. Jing, are you planning something?”
Jing Shun hadn’t fully decided yet, but he cautioned him, “Assistant Chen, don’t tell Chi Gui yet. Just keep it a secret for me.”
Chen Yiming understood. “Got it. Shall you two continue? I’ll head inside.”
“Mm.”
Yu Zhen watched Chen Yiming enter the main house before breaking into a grin. “The timing works perfectly—it’s after your wrap-up, so it won’t interfere with your filming. You’ll have time to prepare for the birthday and the confession.”
Jing Shun mustered his courage internally. “Yeah, I need to think about how to do it.”
Yu Zhen took one last sip of his drink and clinked glasses with his friend. “Jing Shun, relax. No matter what, I’ve got your back.”
Jing Shun smiled. “I know.”
…
Jing Shun’s filming for Traces went smoothly.
Before he knew it, the last day arrived. He stared at the script for the wrap-up scene—the lines he knew by heart and understood inside out—but his mind wandered.
After finishing his makeup, the stylist said, “Mr. Jing, you’re all set. I’ll step out now.”
Yu Zhen rolled over on a chair. “Thanks, appreciate it.”
Once the stylist had left, Yu Zhen lowered his voice. “What’s up? You’ve been distracted all day. You feeling okay?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
“Is it because Brother Yu couldn’t make it back for your wrap?”
Yu Xiuzhu was supposed to return to Haishi the day before yesterday, but he’d called Jing Shun and Yu Zhen a day late, saying he wasn’t feeling well and needed to stay in the imperial capital for two more days.
His voice had sounded hoarse from a fever.
“No, it’s just that the scene I’m shooting later is pretty heavy, so I’m getting into the right headspace.”
Jing Shun gave a plausible excuse, too embarrassed to admit he was actually sulking about something else—
Chi Gui had promised he’d find time to come watch him film, but now, on wrap day, he still hadn’t shown up.
“…”
Liar.
Jing Shun silently cursed him in his mind and closed the script.
“Yu Zhen, come with me to look around the set.”
He already had the script memorized.
It wasn’t a good idea to throw himself into the character’s emotions too early and burn out, only to lose the feeling when it came time to actually shoot.
Yu Zhen stood up immediately. “Sure.”
Today’s filming location was at a mountain cemetery on the western outskirts of Haishi.
Luckily, it was an overcast day, so the heat wasn’t as oppressive.
The crew was still busy with final preparations.
Jing Shun looked out at the rows of real tombstones, some still bearing offerings, and felt his mood grow heavy.
Just then, a shout rang out from elsewhere. “Jing Shun!”
He turned toward the voice.
Director Zheng Chun’an was standing under the monitor tent, calling out through a megaphone. “Come over here!”
Standing beside him wasn’t the assistant director—but a figure Jing Shun knew all too well.
Yu Zhen, following behind Jing Shun, was the first to be stunned. “Jing Shun, how is Chi Gui with the director?”
“…”
Jing Shun was equally baffled, though a secret thrill stirred deep inside him. “I have no idea.”
They hurried along the cemetery path to the monitor tent.
Jing Shun greeted Zheng Chun’an. “Director Zheng.”
After working together for a while, Zheng Chun’an had grown fond of Jing Shun, an actor with remarkable skill. He asked cheerfully, “Today’s the big scene—you all set?”
“Mm, I’m ready.”
This was the final grand scene for the character “Swallow Sutra”:
The police had obtained solid evidence of Swallow Sutra’s crimes, but when they raided the studio, he was already gone.
However, surveillance footage showed that Swallow Sutra had “kidnapped” a little girl and was speeding toward Jiangdu Cemetery on his electric wheelchair.
The police launched a second pursuit.
At the cemetery, dozens of officers, including Yue Qiao’an, surrounded Swallow Sutra, guns drawn, ordering him to release the hostage.
As misunderstandings escalated, an officer shot Swallow Sutra in the abdomen, causing him to fall from his wheelchair, completely incapacitated.
On the verge of death, Swallow Sutra dragged his blood-soaked body, ignoring everything, and crawled to a tombstone, choosing his final resting place for his already bleak life.
…
The focus of this scene was the character’s emotional explosion.
But Jing Shun had no mind to discuss the plot with Zheng Chun’an right now. He just stared at Chi Gui beside the director, hesitating to speak.
Chi Gui caught his subtle gaze and spoke first. “Brother Zheng, aren’t you going to introduce me to your cast?”
Zheng Chun’an snapped out of it and chuckled. “Sure, let me introduce you both. This is Jing Shun, one of our actors.”
“Jing Shun, this is—” He looked at Chi Gui, pausing slightly. “Chi Gui.”
Chi Gui nodded politely. “Nice to meet you.”
Seeing through his act of playing stranger, Jing Shun almost laughed but played along. “Mr. Chi, nice to meet you.”
“…”
Oh, come on. They weren’t even together yet?
Why did these two lovebirds have so many little games?
Yu Zhen silently complained as he stepped aside, giving the three of them space to talk.
Jing Shun took the chance to ask, “Director Zheng, you and Mr. Chi are friends?”
Zheng Chun’an explained simply, “We went to the same university, same major, though I graduated a few years ahead of him.”
One year, a professor had invited Zheng Chun’an back to help instruct junior students in short film production, and that was how he’d met Chi Gui.
“…”
Jing Shun’s breath caught as he tried to process the weight of those few words.
His gaze darted between Chi Gui and Zheng Chun’an, confirming repeatedly. “Director Zheng, you graduated from Haishi Film Academy, directing major?”
“Yeah, both Chi Gui and I did.”
“…”
This was the first time Jing Shun had heard of it, and he was too shocked to speak.
Zheng Chun’an asked back, “Jing Shun, what was your major in university?”
Jing Shun barely found his voice and looked at Chi Gui. “Haishi Film Academy, acting major.”
Chi Gui noticed the incredulity in Jing Shun’s eyes and was about to stop Zheng Chun’an from digging up more old stories, but his phone buzzed with a vibration.
It was an overseas work call.
Chi Gui gestured to Zheng Chun’an and stepped away to answer.
Jing Shun watched Chi Gui’s retreating figure intently until Zheng Chun’an caught him. “What? You know him? But you two must be four or five years apart in school?”
Jing Shun recalled their five-year age gap and played dumb. “…No.”
He had completed all four years of university, but the truth was, he had never even known Chi Gui existed as an alumnus.
Zheng Chun’an didn’t dwell on it. “That’s normal. You don’t even know everyone in your own year. And Chi Gui probably only stayed until the second semester of his sophomore year? Then he stopped.”
Jing Shun blurted out, “Why?”
Zheng Chun’an was taken aback by the intensity in his tone.
Not wanting to reveal too much about his friend’s privacy, he simply said, “I heard his family sent him abroad for further studies. You know his last name, right? The Chi Group in Haishi—that’s his family’s company.”
“Chi Gui reached out to me a few days ago. Said he found a short film we worked on together in college while sorting through his hard drive.”
That had gotten them talking again.
“I knew he had some free time recently, so I invited him to visit the set and make up for his unfulfilled dream of being a director.”
Zheng Chun’an said it in a lighthearted, joking tone, but the words landed heavily on Jing Shun’s ears.
“…”
So Chi Gui had studied directing back in the day?
And his family had sent him abroad?
That must have been when the Chi family took him in.
Zheng Chun’an glanced at Chi Gui, still on the phone, with a mix of admiration and regret.
“It’s a real shame. Chi Gui was outstanding in college—definitely one of the professors’ star students.”
“When I knew him, he and his team had already produced commercial shorts that got nominations and awards outside of school.”
“…”
“But back then, he didn’t go by the name Chi Gui.”
Zheng Chun’an murmured the new name and let out a small laugh. “After years apart, I still find it strange having to call him by his new name.”
Jing Shun’s heart tightened. Unable to help himself, he pressed on. “What was Mr. Chi called in college?”