Crossover Actors - Chapter 1
“Boss, your phone is ringing.”
Qu Yanting was sitting in the passenger seat, dressed in an Italian linen shirt. The sunlight turned the oat-colored shirt into a creamy hue. The sleeves were rolled up twice, revealing a wrist adorned with a brown antique watch.
With a slight tilt of his head, the side mirror reflected Qu Yanting’s face. His skin was fair, his slightly long hair styled with gel, exposing a clean forehead and neat eyebrows, with a pair of square sunglasses perched on his nose. Half of his face was hidden behind the lenses, making it hard to read his expression.
The phone kept ringing, and the assistant driving, Yu Nan, reminded him again, “Boss, aren’t you going to answer that?”
Qu Yanting finally reacted, raising his hand to pick up the vibrating and ringing phone in his fingers. The caller ID showed “Ren Shu.” His thumb hovered over the screen for three or four seconds before sliding to answer the call.
Yu Nan sighed silently, thinking to himself, “What a hassle.”
As soon as the call connected, Ren Shu’s voice came through, full of energy, sounding like he was in a good mood: “Hello? Yan Ting, it’s me. Have you left yet?”
Qu Yanting’s back left the seat, his other hand relaxed from its clenched state, rubbing a crease on his pants. He glanced at a road sign outside the window and replied, “Almost at the airport.”
Ren Shu said happily, “Great, I’ll send a car to pick you up at the airport. Do you want to go straight to the hotel or come to the set first?”
Qu Yanting asked, “Where are you?”
Ren Shu replied, “I’m on location today. If you come to the set, I’ll wrap up early to welcome you.”
Qu Yanting said, “Don’t disrupt your work. I’ll go to the hotel.”
“Alright, you can rest at the hotel for a couple of hours, and we’ll meet tonight,” Ren Shu calculated the time. “We must have hotpot tonight. I’ll book a table in advance.”
After a few more words, Qu Yanting’s straight back slowly relaxed, leaning back into the seat, his tone also more relaxed: “Alright, see you tonight after you finish work.”
The car pulled up in front of the airport terminal and stopped.
After hanging up, Qu Yanting unbuckled his seatbelt and instructed, “Notify the hotel you booked to stock the fridge with black coffee, canned will do.”
Yu Nan had been with Qu Yanting for seven years, since the inception of Qu Yanting’s “Paper Clouds Studio.” He knew all of Qu Yanting’s habits and said, “I’ve already notified them. Boss, make sure to rest and don’t stay up too late.”
Qu Yanting ignored him, wondering if it was the off-season or peak season for travel and whether there would be many tourists. He didn’t like running into many people at the hotel.
“The room is 6206, a suite on the top floor of the hotel, with few rooms on that floor, so don’t worry,” Yu Nan proactively answered. “Not sure when you’ll return, so I booked it for a week.”
Qu Yanting wasn’t sure either; the length of the work period depended on whether things went smoothly. He tossed his house key onto the center console and said, “Help me feed the cat and water the plants. The place might be a bit messy.”
Despite being an assistant for many years, Yu Nan had rarely been to Qu Yanting’s place unless Qu Yanting was away for an extended period. He picked up the key and said, “I’ll help tidy up a bit.”
“No need,” Qu Yanting was not being polite. “I like it messy.”
Yu Nan nodded awkwardly. His phone received an email with instructions for caring for various plants and notes on feeding the cat.
“Received it?” Qu Yanting put away his phone. “The usual rule, email me if there’s anything, minimal messages, call me only if it’s urgent.”
Yu Nan was very familiar with Qu Yanting’s habits but couldn’t help but think to himself, by the time you answer, an emergency might already be critical.
Qu Yanting glanced at his watch; it was time to go. He gave one last instruction: “Choose a gift for Director Zhang of the film review team, budget under 100,000. He’ll know what it means.”
Yu Nan assured him, “Got it, don’t worry, boss.”
Qu Yanting headed into the airport just in time. His suitcase was checked in, and he only carried a black Hermes Phantom bag containing the script he needed to review during the flight.
After security, there was no time to wait at the gate; he was almost the last passenger to board.
Qu Yanting enjoyed the flight because it allowed him to turn off his phone during the day without worrying about unexpected messages or calls. The moment the screen went black, he felt peace and relaxation.
The plane taxied and took off.
The city shrank into something resembling an integrated circuit, then disappeared into the surrounding clouds.
In the quiet first-class cabin, some people read, some listened to music. Qu Yanting was focused on reviewing a script, occasionally making notes and edits with a pen.
Everyone was minding their own business, unaware that a celebrity was among them in the enclosed space of the cabin.
Even the flight attendants, bustling back and forth, didn’t notice.
By the window, Lu Wen was dozing off with his head tilted back, the script on his face slowly sliding off his shoulder with the plane’s movements.
Lu Wen’s manager sat in the next seat, with a crew cut, black-framed glasses, and a Nike outfit put together at considerable expense. He reached across the partition to pick up the script, rolled it into a tube, and tapped Lu Wen’s shoulder with it.
Lu Wen startled awake, straightening his neck.
He wasn’t wearing sunglasses or a mask, nor any makeup, his face clean and exposed—wheat-colored skin, prominent eyebrows, a high nose bridge, with smooth and well-defined contours, exuding a full masculine charm. Yet, his eyes disrupted the harmony—moist at the corners, with slight bags underneath, adding a touch of innocence to his otherwise masculine face.
Recently, he had wrapped up filming for a historical drama, where his temples had been irritated and reddened by the wig tearing against them, resembling a small wound. Those unaware might have thought he had been in a scuffle outside.
Sun Xiaojian said, “We’re heading to the set this afternoon. Can’t believe you managed to sleep.”
Lu Wen rubbed his eyes. “I’m going to the set, not to jail. Why wouldn’t I be able to sleep?”
Sun Xiaojian leaned against the partition, speaking softly, “Can this time be like before? You’re the male lead this time. If something goes wrong, it’s like being a serious criminal.”
Lu Wen also leaned over, face to face with Sun Xiaojian, a hint of joy in his expression. “That’s why I’m tired. I was too excited last night, couldn’t sleep for most of it.”
At that moment, a flight attendant passed by, gently reminding, “Sir, please remain seated.”
In the entertainment industry, A-listers were top stars, B-listers also enjoyed popularity; C-listers had lower pay but were still recognized names; D-listers were considered “not quite famous,” preferring to keep a low profile. Even E, F, and G-listers, though further down, could still gather a group of fans. Those unrecognizable to the general public were all lumped together as “eighteen-liners.”
Lu Wen, as an eighteen-liner actor, had appeared in four or five TV dramas, each time as the fifth or later male role, finishing his scenes before he could become recognizable.
In his year and a half in the industry, he hadn’t experienced fans clamoring around him, nor had he had a team to manage everything for him. He only had Sun Xiaojian, a rookie with zero experience and zero connections, serving as both his manager and assistant.
Nevertheless, Sun Xiaojian was extremely diligent, like a parent accompanying a high school senior. Most importantly, he held great hope for Lu Wen, firmly believing that Lu Wen would one day become a shining star in the entertainment industry.
The wing brushed past the ethereal clouds. After three hours of flight, this yet-to-shine star circled southwest, slowly descending into Chongqing, the mountain city.
Passengers began disembarking. Lu Wen stood up, towering at one meter eighty-eight.
He donned a long windbreaker, tailored just for him; anyone else would probably be dragging it on the ground. Underneath was a simple t-shirt paired with chinos and canvas shoes on his feet.
Upon disembarking, Lu Wen strode ahead with his long legs, leaving Sun Xiaojian far behind. He walked straight to the terminal and stopped, standing amidst the bustling crowd.
Sun Xiaojian caught up, saying, “I just contacted the production team. They said a car will come to pick us up. They’ll send me the license plate number shortly.”
This was the norm for an eighteen-liner. At Jiangbei Airport, which ranked nationally, there were no fans chasing after them, no passersby asking for photos, no airport fashion shots, not even early reception by the production team. They had to wait a while.
Lu Wen couldn’t stay still. “Let’s wait outside then. The production team’s car will have some kind of identification, easy to spot.”
Several cars were parked outside. The two of them strolled along the white lines. Based on past experience, eighty percent of these were likely vans. Even on the poorest productions, they had once ridden in a rundown minivan.
Lu Wen scanned the row of cars until he halted abruptly at one in front.
Sun Xiaojian peered over from behind and, upon seeing it clearly, pushed his glasses in disbelief. “Holy shit.”
It was a nearly new Porsche Cayenne, recently washed and maintained, its body lines shimmering faintly, windows as reflective as mirrors. In the driver’s seat sat a well-dressed chauffeur, with a shirt and tie, and a handsome face.
Lu Wen had visited many sets before, but this kind of treatment was a groundbreaking first for him. He hesitantly said, “Are you sure there’s no mistake?”
Sun Xiaojian nodded towards the windshield, where a sign was affixed to the lower left corner: “The First Night” production team, A1.
For ease of coordination, each vehicle in the production team had an assigned number, and A1 belonged to the highest grade. Written in black and white, there should be no mistake. This boosted Lu Wen’s confidence a bit, and he secretly rejoiced, “Could it be that I’ve become famous during those three hours on the plane?”
Sun Xiaojian was adept at saying pleasant things. “Doesn’t that mean you can’t ride unless you’re famous? You’re not just an extra this time.”
Lu Wen brightened up with a bit of sunshine. He nodded. “Right, I’m the male lead this time, the soul of the whole show. A soul should have the status of a soul.”
Sun Xiaojian, with a keen eye, walked up and pulled open the car door. Inside, the cabin was adorned with brand-new carpets, exquisite leather interiors, and each seat had embroidered cushions. As they approached, a faint fragrance could be detected.
Lu Wen stylishly shrugged off his windbreaker, lifted his leg, and smoothly sat down on the sofa seat.
The driver, startled, half-turned his body and stared at Lu Wen and Sun Xiaojian in surprise for a good four or five seconds.
Lu Wen extended his hand and snapped his fingers in the air. “Driver, did I just leave you speechless?”
The driver snapped out of it, hesitantly greeted, “You… are you going to the set?”
“Yeah, we just got off the plane,” Sun Xiaojian said. “Don’t just stand there; lend a hand with the luggage.”
The driver got out and helped, lifting the suitcases while scrutinizing them, unable to help confirming again, “Are you going to ‘The First Night’ production team?”
“Could there be a mistake?” Sun Xiaojian said. “The production team isn’t very reliable. You’re already here; they should have sent the car earlier. Luckily, this car stands out.”
Feeling thirsty, Lu Wen unscrewed the Paris water prepared in the car and handed a can of cola to Sun Xiaojian. He took a sip and asked, “Driver, how long to the set approximately?”
The driver replied, “About… an hour and a half.”
Lu Wen frowned. He felt the driver was dragging his feet, every word hesitant. At home, his two family drivers always adhered to three principles: quick responses, swift actions, and steady driving.
Realizing it was getting late, he said, “Alright, let’s go.”
The driver made no move, instead peering towards the terminal, finally asking with confusion, “Didn’t Director Liu go in to pick you up? Didn’t you see him?”
Outside the arrival gate, a well-dressed middle-aged man had been waiting for some time, surnamed Liu, the production director of “The First Night.”
The VIP lane was gradually emptying out. Qu Yanting was the last to board before takeoff and almost the last to disembark. He knew someone was waiting for him, but as he walked further, his steps involuntarily slowed.
Director Liu keenly spotted Qu Yanting’s figure and immediately waved his hand, warmly calling out, “Qu Bian, it’s been ages since we last met!”
Qu Yanting heard the voice and tightened his grip on the handle of his suitcase. Approaching slowly, he shook the hand extended by Director Liu and said, “Long time no see. Didn’t expect you’d come to pick me up.”
“Don’t mention it.” Director Liu smiled. “The car’s outside. Let’s first take you to the hotel to rest.”
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ma'er
I’m so glad to finally being able to read this novel! Thank you so much for the translation. <3