Crossover Actors - Chapter 50

Just after hanging up, Yu Nan knocked and entered: “Boss, the supplements you ordered have arrived.”

 

Qu Yanting ordered these every year before the Spring Festival to send to his elders and said, “Same as usual, divide them into three parts.”

 

Two were sent out, one to Ren Shu’s parents and the other addressed to “Big Brother.” Yu Nan had been responsible for sending these for seven or eight years but still didn’t know who the recipient was.

 

As dusk set and the sky turned orange, Qu Yanting left the studio and took the third package to Zishan Mingzhu.

 

Zeng Zhen was still on set, leaving only Wang Mingyu and the housekeeper at home. As dinner was being served, the housekeeper saw Qu Yanting’s car through the window and called out, “Ms. Wang, Mr. Qu is here.”

 

Wang Mingyu came downstairs and said, “Add an extra set of chopsticks.”

 

The doorbell rang, and the housekeeper went to open the door. Qu Yanting entered, greeted “Master,” and, familiar with the routine, hung up his coat, washed his hands, and went to the dining room.

 

It was mealtime, and Wang Mingyu said, “You’ve timed it well.”

 

Qu Yanting rolled up his sleeves and served soup, gently placing the bowl in front of Wang Mingyu. There were three dishes, not much in quantity. He asked, “Is this enough?”

 

Wang Mingyu instructed the housekeeper, “Steam a plate of Sichuan sausage.”

 

“Thank you, Master,” Qu Yanting said, “Auntie, add some tomato scrambled eggs too.”

 

It was a similar scene as before; today’s atmosphere was quite pleasant. After eating half a bowl of rice in a calm and steady manner, Wang Mingyu said, “We’ve finished the first ten episodes of the New Year’s drama. Let’s go upstairs and take a look later.”

 

“Okay,” Qu Yanting said eagerly, “I’ve also brought my script. Please help me review it too.”

 

It was the unfinished independent work, and Wang Mingyu had expressed interest in it after Qu Yanting shared his thoughts before. She put down her chopsticks, wiped her hands, and said, “Come on, let me see it.”

 

Qu Yanting took it out from his bag, which had been printed before work and still had a faint smell of ink.

 

Wang Mingyu put on her reading glasses and started reading, letting the soup cool. The table fell silent for a while. She said, “Eat your food, it’s not like I’m checking your homework.”

 

Qu Yanting continued eating with his head down, swallowing his feelings along with the rice. He admired his master, Wang Mingyu’s works, her dedication to scriptwriting, and the spirit of her characters had been a source of admiration for many years.

 

The issue with the naming was like grit mixed in white rice—dirty, hard, and painful. Qu Yanting lifted his bowl, played with the last bit of rice with his chopsticks, and when he looked up again, he dismissed all the complex emotions.

 

Wang Mingyu sighed, “It’s been a while since I read a film script.”

 

Her husband was a famous film director, making it ironic that she was so close to the source. Qu Yanting avoided talking about Zeng Zhen and said, “If you want to read more, let me know. I’ll send over the studio’s film scripts.”

 

Wang Mingyu flipped a page with satisfaction. “How long have you been working on this?”

 

Qu Yanting answered, “More than a year.”

 

Wang Mingyu asked, “Progress?”

 

Qu Yanting replied, “Over half done.”

 

With a risk-taking tone, Qu Yanting probed, “I’ve been very busy; the studio’s projects come first. I can only write when I have spare time. And now, I’ve been handed a terrible script.”

 

Wang Mingyu showed no reaction, as if she didn’t hear, and returned to the topic directly: “There aren’t many screenwriters your age who choose period dramas.”

 

Qu Yanting asked, “What do you think of it?”

 

“I quite like it,” Wang Mingyu objectively evaluated, “It’s suitable for the big screen. Some scenes will be very impressive. I can feel…”

 

Qu Yanting licked his thin lips.

 

Wang Mingyu continued, “You’ve written it with a director’s perspective.”

 

There was a brief silence at the table. Wang Mingyu, like an old scholar, glanced over her glasses, her gaze carrying a hint of undisguised meaning, perhaps regret.

 

She addressed the matter: “The gap in the first half is due to inadequate research?”

 

Qu Yanting nodded, “I’ve looked up the information but need to study it further.”

 

Wang Mingyu asked, “What aspect?”

 

“Folk traditional crafts,” Qu Yanting replied, “I mentioned it to you last year and took a book from you.”

 

Wang Mingyu was surprised, “You mentioned continuing development and suggested the foundation pay attention to this kind of project?”

 

Qu Yanting smiled. He had indeed mentioned it while researching the script, but he didn’t know that Wang Mingyu had taken his suggestion and had the foundation work on it.

 

The circle of traditional crafts and intangible cultural heritage was narrowing, and relying solely on charity was not enough. Thus, the Book and Shadow Foundation teamed up with the TV station to produce a program to promote and expand attention, attracting the public’s view.

 

Qu Yanting was pleasantly surprised, “What program?”

 

Wang Mingyu said, “It’s called ‘Utopia.’”

 

Qu Yanting was astonished to learn that it was the same “Utopia” that Lu Wen was going to participate in!

 

Wang Mingyu took off her glasses and spoke authoritatively, “You should have said earlier. The program and charity are very thorough. I’ll have the foundation send you some materials.”

 

Qu Yanting came back to his senses, “Alright… Thank you, Master.”

 

Dinner lasted longer than expected. The sky was already dark. Qu Yanting took the first ten episodes of the script home to read. As he came down the stairs, Wang Mingyu didn’t see him off but stood in the small hall on the second floor, looking out.

 

As he stepped off the last step, Qu Yanting looked up, “Master, get some rest early.”

 

“Yanting,” Wang Mingyu suddenly called out.

 

Qu Yanting waited. After a while, Wang Mingyu looked down, her expression hidden by her falling hair. She responded to his earlier probing at the table, saying, “Master won’t harm you.”

 

Leaving the villa, the wind had picked up, and the clouds in the night sky had cleared, revealing flickering stars.

 

Qu Yanting drove away. The headlights illuminated the road, and as he turned past the white house at 3-19, he glanced over and noticed it brightly lit.

 

The door was open, and Lu Wen was hanging a eucalyptus leaf wreath. Hearing the car horn, he turned and almost was blinded by the bright lights.

 

“Damn, what’s the quality?”

 

Lu Wen ran outside, as if to defend his home, holding two long leaves. When he saw it was a Bentley, he stopped, and the window rolled down. Qu Yanting, with a serious expression, whistled at him.

 

“Mr. Qu?!”

 

Qu Yanting waved his hand, “Pretty alert. No need to keep a big dog now.”

 

Lu Wen stopped at the curb, bent slightly at the waist, and braced himself against the car door, “Who are you calling a dog? This is called awareness. I learned it in self-defense classes when I was young.”

 

“How many useless classes did you attend?”

 

“Just took them when I had nothing to do,” Lu Wen quipped. “Did you visit the Master’s place again?”

 

Qu Yanting nodded, staying in the driver’s seat, turning slightly to chat casually, “Have you officially moved in?”

 

Lu Wen replied, “Almost. The reality show will be filmed at home, so I need to set up a bit more.”

 

As they were talking, a slightly plump figure came running out. From Qu Yanting’s angle, he saw her first and shrank back into the car. Lu Wen turned to see it was the housekeeper.

 

Sister Ling stopped at the garden gate, politely keeping her distance, “Xiao Wen, you suddenly ran out and startled me.”

 

Lu Wen did not bow or let others see through the car window. He said, “It’s nothing. It’s just… the screenwriter teacher passing by. I came out to say hello.”

 

Sister Ling heard this and said, “It’s so cold. Please invite the teacher into the house. I’ll make coffee for you.”

 

Lu Wen lowered his eyes, winked at Qu Yanting, and reached inside the window to poke at his coat’s shoulder. Qu Yanting, steadfast, shook his head to decline the invitation.

 

“Drinking coffee late at night? Are you still going to sleep?” Lu Wen said disgruntledly, with a tone of grumbling, “He’s busy. Just passing by, I bet he’s like the legendary Yu the Great.”

 

Qu Yanting found it quite amusing. Did this illiterate even understand what “passing by” meant? He reached out as well and pinched Lu Wen’s stomach through his sweatshirt, but only felt tight abs, which didn’t budge.

 

Lu Wen shooed Sister Ling away, no longer making a fuss, and wrapped eucalyptus leaves around the rearview mirror. Qu Yanting didn’t stop him and said, “Be mindful of your behavior while recording the show. Take it easy.”

 

“Oh,” Lu Wen acknowledged, then extended the thought, “What if those big shots bully me?”

 

Qu Yanting ignored his concern, “What does that have to do with me?”

 

Lu Wen didn’t get a satisfactory answer and, after finishing with the leaves, stretched out a long leg under the starlight and moonlight, saying, “There’s a famous model named Yi Chuan, supposedly very beautiful and with very long legs. She’s quite a match for me.”

 

Qu Yanting responded calmly, “That’s nice.”

 

The car window rolled up, and the engine’s roar pierced through the quiet night of the villa area. Qu Yanting sped away, and Lu Wen, lost in the exhaust fumes, quickly followed a few steps, shouting, “Can’t you show a little modesty? Drive slower!”

 

As the car disappeared around the corner, Lu Wen returned to the villa. Sister Ling, who had been waiting by the door, followed him in, asking, “Why did you yell at the screenwriter teacher?”

 

Lu Wen replied irritably, “I’m just naturally loud.”

 

Sister Ling asked, “What’s the screenwriter’s status?”

 

Lu Wen walked through the living room, “Basically someone I can’t mess with.”

 

“So, is the screenwriter nice to you?” Sister Ling asked with a maternal tone. “You seem quite familiar. Even if you don’t speak properly, he doesn’t seem to mind.”

 

Lu Wen stomped up the stairs: “I know how to talk. You haven’t seen me when I’m trying to make him happy!”

 

Sister Ling looked skeptical, “You can charm people?”

 

“For my career… flattery,” Lu Wen’s mouth and brain were disconnected. “Is it easy for me? It’s a different industry. Don’t pry too much!”

 

The coffee table in the living room was covered with fresh flowers. Sister Ling said disdainfully, “I’ll continue arranging the flowers. Being a housekeeper isn’t easy. Without me handling everything, how could you happily move in?”

 

Lu Wen, who had already entered the bedroom, turned around and came out, yelling, “How dare you say that? Why did you put condoms in my bedside drawer?!”

 

Sister Ling was surprised, “Did you use them so soon?”

 

Lu Wen shouted, “I haven’t used them!”

 

“What are you so angry about?” Sister Ling trimmed flower branches elegantly. “Safety first. You can’t find them when you need them in a hurry.”

 

Lu Wen blurted out, “But it appears when I don’t need it, and now I’m misunderstood by Mr. Qu!”

 

Sister Ling said, “You’re overthinking it. This kind of thing can only be misunderstood by a girlfriend. Others wouldn’t care. Xiao Wen, don’t be so sensitive.”

 

Lu Wen’s anger was palpable, “I’m not being sensitive. I’m just lacking someone to discuss these things with. Do you understand?”

 

Sister Ling responded gently, “Such talk should stay at home. You’re not a child anymore. It’s awkward for others to hear.”

 

Lu Wen finally lost it and slammed the bedroom door shut.

 

Sister Ling arranged a bunch of delphiniums into a vase and paused, puzzled, “Hmm? Who is Mr. Qu…”

 

Before long, “Utopia” was about to officially start recording.

 

The company arranged a small team for Lu Wen. Apart from his manager, there was a lifestyle assistant and a stylist. The latter was practically useless since Lu Wen didn’t need a stylist’s help with new styles; his collection of high-end brands and custom designs was already extravagant enough.

 

On the day of recording, Sun Xiao Jian and his assistant arrived early and wandered around Zishan Park before finding the villa area.

 

Sister Ling had packed three large boxes of luggage. Lu Wen changed clothes in the spacious dressing room: a deep gray Balmain coat, a French shirt with double-layered cuffs, and metal badge cufflinks, paired with slim black trousers extending into upgraded military boots.

 

The only splash of color was a blood-red jade watch on his wrist. Lu Wen glanced at the time and said, “The production team should have arrived.”

 

As soon as he finished speaking, the doorbell rang. It was the production team for “Utopia,” with two cameramen, a coordinator, and a leader, making up the four members responsible for Lu Wen.

 

No one expected this relatively unknown star to live in a grand mansion. What was initially meant to be a simple shoot turned into a full sweep with the cameraman, who couldn’t resist capturing the entire place after entering.

 

The staff stayed off-camera while Lu Wen pushed his luggage and said, “I’m all set.”

 

The cameraman asked, “So much luggage?”

 

Lu Wen replied, “Actually just two boxes.”

 

The cameraman asked, “What’s in the third box?”

 

Lu Wen wasn’t sure either and said, “It’s for gifts to the villagers where we’ll be staying in the old town, including food and drink.”

 

Reality shows aren’t interviews; the cameraman isn’t a host. It’s up to Lu Wen to shoot and speak. Lu Wen adapted well, guiding the camera through the house and chatting, “Does the old town have heating? I didn’t bring any thermal underwear.”

 

“I also prepared some red envelopes for the villagers, but I figured the production team would probably provide money, right?”

 

“Oh, this painting is an auction item. My dad likes it. I think it’s just okay.”

 

After a long round back to the living room, the cameraman struggled to keep from chatting too much, but the leader couldn’t hold back and asked, “I heard Director Zeng Zhen also lives here?”

 

Lu Wen stopped and lazily leaned against a wine cabinet, “Yes, that’s right.”

 

The leader asked, “Will you run into him?”

 

“Of course,” Lu Wen joked, “I met him during my morning run yesterday, and we even went to have soy milk together.”

 

Sun Xiao Jian was panicking and signaling desperately to stop Lu Wen from blowing his image, using lip movements to remind him: Image! Cool guy!

 

Lu Wen’s mind snapped back to the plot and restrained his smile, coughing to cover up, “Just kidding. I only drank ice water in the morning.”

 

After finishing the pre-departure shots, the group headed to the airport.

 

Lu Wen pretended to read a book, but once on the plane, photography was not allowed, so he used it to cover his face and slept. Each guest was in a different city and would meet up at the destination.

 

After a two or three-hour flight, the group transferred to a chauffeur-driven car. The southern landscape of rolling green mountains was shrouded in light mist, with smoke rising from homes nestled in the mountain slopes.

 

The coordinator received a message saying, “We’ll soon reach the service station where each team will gather.”

 

Lu Wen removed his headphones and looked out the window. After passing through two long mountain tunnels, the view suddenly opened up, and the Lanshui Service Station was right at the foot of the mountain.

 

The program’s business cars were parked together, about seven or eight vehicles.

 

As he approached and got out of the car, Lu Wen took a deep breath of the fresh, moist air. After being cooped up, he wandered towards a less crowded area.

 

At that moment, a business car door opened—

 

Jin Yanyu, wearing large sunglasses and surrounded by assistants and bodyguards, stepped out. He carefully patted his deep gray Balmain coat, the latest brand offering.

 

“Damn.”

 

Jin Yanyu looked up in response to the sound and stopped.

 

Lu Wen, just a few steps away, also stopped.

 

On the first day of work, he had bumped into top-tier celebrity fashion twins!