Crossover Actors - Chapter 3

Lu Wen and Sun Xiaojian were starving, so they left the set and found a Chongqing restaurant.

 

After ordering, Lu Wen looked at the detailed shooting schedule. The whole day tomorrow would be spent in a script reading session at the hotel, and in the evening, the entire crew would hold a kickoff banquet.

 

Sun Xiaojian said, “Remember your daily makeup and filming times. The hot water room is on the first floor. The boxed meals are greasy, rinse them with hot water before eating. Common medications and supplements are in the RV cabinet. Take them immediately if you feel unwell.”

 

Lu Wen didn’t remember a single word, “Isn’t that all your job?”

 

“What if I’m not around?” Sun Xiaojian rested his chin on his hand, “You used to be a minor role, and nobody cared about us. Now you’re the male lead, and I need to network hard.”

 

Lu Wen asked, “Like who?”

 

Sun Xiaojian answered, “First, I’ll try to get a photo with the female lead.”

 

When the dishes were served, Lu Wen and Sun Xiaojian raised their glasses to celebrate the start of their work. From auditioning, getting selected, to negotiating and signing the contract, they had already celebrated hundreds of times.

 

Sometimes, they would exchange a knowing smile. If their looks weren’t so different, passersby might think they were bursting with bromance.

 

Sun Xiaojian would always marvel, “The entertainment industry is really mysterious. So many people auditioned, some more popular than you, some with connections, some who knew the producers. And yet, you outdid them all!”

 

Lu Wen would always repeat, “This is the first time I’ve been in such fierce competition!”

 

The producers held an open audition for the male lead, looking for fresh faces. Many newcomers and lesser-known actors flocked in, joking that it felt like taking an art school entrance exam.

 

With few connections and resources, but bold and decisive, Sun Xiaojian worked hard to get Lu Wen an audition. Getting the audition was the first screening round, based on appearance. Lu Wen passed smoothly.

 

The audition was like a job interview. On that day, there were more than a dozen people in his group. Each prepared two scenes to perform. Lu Wen didn’t hold out much hope and planned to just enjoy the day, memorized his lines, and then pulled out his comic book to read.

 

A man walked by and asked why he wasn’t preparing. He looked up and casually said, “I’m a laid-back person, so I go with the flow.”

 

The man asked, “But you have to memorize the lines, right?”

 

“Already done,” Lu Wen said proudly, “I memorize lines fast, just a few readings, and I’ve got it.”

 

The man said, “That means you have a gift.”

 

Lu Wen replied, “I never memorized texts in school. When the teacher checked the next day, I would speed-memorize them on the spot. It’s not a talent, just a skill.”

 

He boasted a bit, and when he went in for the actual audition, he realized the man was the chief director, Ren Shu.

 

Ren Shu reminded him with a smile, “No need to be nervous, we’re already acquainted.”

 

Lu Wen wasn’t nervous at all. He was sure he wouldn’t get the part, so why be nervous? After the audition, feeling guilty for letting Sun Xiaojian’s efforts go to waste, he voluntarily went on a low-carb diet for a week.

 

To his surprise, he got the part.

 

Looking back on it now, Lu Wen was still a bit puzzled.

 

Sun Xiaojian was eating happily, “Although…but…”

 

Lu Wen understood the omitted part—although “The First Night” was a web series, not a primetime satellite TV series, and definitely not a major film; the subject wasn’t family-friendly, and the lovers didn’t end up together; director Ren Shu specialized in urban life dramas and had never tried other styles.

 

But as Sun Xiaojian marveled, the competition was fierce, and many actors fought hard for the role.

 

And the main reason was probably—Qu Yanting was the screenwriter.

 

Meanwhile, on the street next to the restaurant, a hotpot restaurant that had been around for more than a decade was packed. In a private room, Qu Yanting sat on a bench, fishing a piece of beef out of the boiling red broth.

 

He dipped it in a sesame oil dish and then savored it. His light-colored shirt and unhurried movements added a unique calmness to the fiery atmosphere.

 

Ren Shu sat across from him, having taken off his jacket, wearing only a t-shirt. He was solidly built and sweating profusely as he drank iced tea, “I can’t take it, it’s too spicy!”

 

Qu Yanting glanced up, his phoenix eyes slightly raised, with drooping lashes that gave an innate sense of distance. His narrow nose, delicate for a man, and the gentle lines of his lips and chin softened the intensity of his eyes.

 

He added a large spoonful of dried chili to his dish, wrapped a piece of yellow throat in the red sauce, and put it in his mouth, saying with satisfaction, “I love it this way.”

 

“All yours, take it all,” Ren Shu said, placing cooked meat into Qu Yanting’s bowl. “Back in school, we were roommates. On weekends, when you came to my house for meals, you’d eat half a jar of my mom’s homemade chili sauce.”

 

That chili sauce was Ren’s mother’s secret recipe. Qu Yanting would eat half and take the other half back to school. Even after graduation, with less frequent contact, he still sent gifts to Ren’s mother every Dragon Boat Festival, Mid-Autumn Festival, and New Year’s Eve.

 

Qu Yanting said, “Then this meal is on me.”

 

“You’re mocking me?” Ren Shu replied, “With our friendship, if you want to treat me, treat me to something big.”

 

Qu Yanting joked, “Buy you a house in Chongqing?”

 

“As expected from Qu the Screenwriter, a house just like that.” Ren Shu also joked, “Tomorrow night’s kickoff banquet, cover the expenses for me.”

 

Qu Yanting’s chopsticks paused in mid-air, not reaching into the pot, then he brought them back and lightly placed them on the rest. He wiped his mouth and, with a hint of complaint, said, “What a coincidence.”

 

Ren Shu was oblivious, “If you came two days later, you would have missed it. Tomorrow, not only the actors, but people from the co-producers will be there too. You invested the most and wrote the script; you have to be there.”

 

Ren Shu continued, somewhat dissatisfied, “Since graduation, you’ve shown up less and less, always staying in the circle. But how many times have we shared a meal?”

 

Qu Yanting said, “You’re doing well, and I’m managing. That’s enough. This industry is volatile. Getting too close means forming cliques, keeping some distance is better for everyone.”

 

Ren Shu laughed, “What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t want to form a clique with me?”

 

A gentleman does not form factions; Qu Yanting hoped to maintain his integrity and said, “But if you ever face difficulties, I’ll definitely be there to help.”

 

Ren Shu believed him. In their circle, many people feigned familiarity, calling each other brothers, but their enthusiasm wasn’t always genuine. True loyalty was rare. After graduation, Ren Shu had a relatively smooth path, directing several well-received and award-winning dramas. He made money, but also hit a bottleneck in his career.

 

While feeling lost, Qu Yanting approached him to collaborate on this project. From discussions to preparations, Ren Shu never had a chance to ask why until now. Curious, he finally did, “You’re thriving in the film industry. Why take on a web series?”

 

This wasn’t child’s play but a film project backed by capital, and the reason couldn’t be a mere whim. Qu Yanting lowered his eyes, the phoenix eyes turning into lazy, sleepy ones. He said indifferently, “I wanted to give it a try.”

 

Seeing Qu Yanting’s disinterest, Ren Shu tactfully didn’t press further and reminisced about their university days instead.

 

He was lazy, and Qu Yanting always fetched meals and water for him. When he borrowed books and didn’t return them on time, Qu Yanting took the brunt of the librarian’s scolding. When they bought second-hand cameras to make short films, Ren Shu slept soundly while Qu Yanting stayed up all night drawing storyboards.

 

The hotpot’s broth cooled, and the steam gradually dissipated. Ren Shu lifted his cup, “Now that we’ve had our heart-to-heart, here’s to you.”

 

Qu Yanting, with a cultured straightforwardness, said, “I’ll drink to that.”

 

Leaving the hotpot restaurant, the city lights sparkled, brighter than the overcast daylight. A Porsche was parked by the roadside. The driver had gone off duty, so Ren Shu personally drove Qu Yanting back to the hotel.

 

Once on the road, Ren Shu asked, “How’s the ride?”

 

“It’s okay,” Qu Yanting sat in the passenger seat, elbow resting on the window, his wrist supporting his temple, “You keep it for yourself. Get me a nanny car instead.”

 

Ren Shu protested, “Forget it. When I get busy, I don’t change clothes for days. I wouldn’t want to mess up my car. How’s the driver? If he’s good, let him handle the transportation.”

 

Qu Yanting agreed, “Sure, no need to bother old Liu anymore.”

 

Ren Shu laughed, “I almost forgot, old Liu called me this afternoon, said there was a mix-up when picking someone up from the airport. Some actor got in the wrong car. I was too busy to listen properly, did that really happen?”

 

The streets blurred in the rearview mirror, and Qu Yanting, replaying the airport scene in his mind, replied, “Yes.”

 

Ren Shu asked, “Who was it?”

 

Qu Yanting answered, “The male lead you picked.”

 

“Lu Wen?” Ren Shu glanced back as he turned a corner, “Why is there a missing pillow? My newly bought authentic Shu embroidery.”

 

Qu Yanting said, “Your male lead forgot to put it back when he got out. I gave it to him as a keepsake.”

 

“How generous of you.” Turning into a commercial street near the hotel, Ren Shu sensed something was off, “Hey, what do you mean ‘the male lead I picked’? I showed you the test photos and audition tapes. You approved them.”

 

Indeed, Qu Yanting had seen Lu Wen’s photos early on and watched his audition clips repeatedly, but he knew nothing about Lu Wen personally.

 

He asked, “Why did you choose him?”

 

“Without the interference of capital, politics, or power, casting is about finding the right fit, isn’t it?” Ren Shu slowed down and parked the car, “On the audition day, everyone was seriously preparing, except Lu Wen, who was reading a comic.”

 

Qu Yanting was silent.

 

Ren Shu recalled, “He didn’t know I was the director. I asked why he wasn’t preparing, and he boasted about memorizing lines quickly. When it came time for the audition, I feared he’d be nervous, but he was either calm or had given up, more relaxed than when reading the comic.”

 

“So, you chose him?” Qu Yanting unbuckled his seatbelt.

 

“He had this air of not caring about studying, taking the exam just for the experience, not giving a damn. It was perfect.” Ren Shu paused and looked at Qu Yanting, “He’s just like Ye Xiaowu.”

 

Qu Yanting was quiet for a moment, then slowly said, “He does resemble Ye Xiaowu.”

 

Ren Shu unlocked the car doors, “Ye Xiaowu is the male lead, isn’t that right?”

 

Qu Yanting said, “But Ye Xiaowu is an idiot.”

 

As he got out of the car, a cool night breeze hit him. Just as he was about to close the door, Ren Shu asked if he would attend the script reading tomorrow.

 

Qu Yanting shook his head, “I’ll leave it to you. I trust you.”

 

Back at the hotel, as Qu Yanting passed through the lobby, he glimpsed a tall and a short figure from the corner of his eye but didn’t pay much attention, heading straight for the elevator.

 

Sun Xiaojian was checking in and reminded, “I’m staying on the 53rd floor. It’s late, so go back to your room, put on a face mask, and get some rest. I’ll come up tomorrow morning to help you unpack.”

 

Exhausted from a long day, Lu Wen took his room key and left.

 

The express elevator had just closed, so he took another one. He checked his reflection in the gilded elevator doors and then focused on the ascending numbers.

 

On the 62nd floor, there were only a few suites, making it very quiet. Lu Wen slowly stepped out of the elevator and, turning a corner, saw a figure moving a few steps away.

 

He wasn’t one to stare at others, but he couldn’t help following with his eyes.

 

The person was about 1.8 meters tall, with a neat, dense tuft of hair at the back of his head. His neck was long, partly visible from the oatmeal-colored shirt collar. Below was a walking body, lean but with clearly defined shoulders, waist, and legs, a figure so proportionate and sharp it didn’t seem ordinary.

 

Without realizing it, Lu Wen had caught up, closing the gap to just one step.

 

Suddenly, the person stopped and turned to stand outside room 6206.

 

“Damn! It’s you?” Lu Wen recognized him.

 

The thick carpet had muffled Lu Wen’s footsteps, and Qu Yanting, about to find his room key, was momentarily stunned by the sight of Lu Wen’s surprised face.

 

The lighting was perfect, their faces clearly visible. Lu Wen realized it wasn’t the large sunglasses, but the man’s small face.

 

Looking at him, he didn’t make eye contact with the aloof phoenix eyes or notice the delicate straight nose. Instead, he was drawn to Qu Yanting’s slightly parted lips.

 

Whatever he had eaten left them moist and red, like rose petals.

 

Qu Yanting regained his composure without reacting, turning back to pull out his room key.

 

At that moment, Lu Wen, standing behind him, asked, “Bro, who are you playing?”