Chapter 4
“Qun Jie.”
“Good morning, Qun Jie.”
Fang Qun stepped down from the trailer, holding a cup of coffee in her hand, with her assistant trailing behind.
Jian Zhenzhu had an exceptionally keen sense of observation, always able to quickly and accurately judge whether a celebrity was easy to get along with.
After subtly observing Fang Qun for nearly half an hour, Jian Zhenzhu relaxed slightly.
Though her underlying personality was still unknown, her normal attitude toward the staff indicated that, in most situations, she was easy to work with. Since her daughter had many scenes opposite the female lead, it was best if the lead was easy to get along with.
With the arrival of the female lead, the pace on set gradually quickened, as if wound tighter by a spring.
“Rolling.”
“Scene 64a, shot 3, take 1.”
The clapperboard snapped shut, marking the official start of filming.
“Bang—”
Qiao Hua dropped the water scoop in her hand onto the ground and rushed out from inside the house excitedly, “What did you say? Cui Cui has been found?”
“Found! Found! The police just—”
“Click! Wait a moment,” Director Chen Man raised her megaphone. “Where are these police coming from? The script says public security.”
Liu Lingyun, playing Qiao Hua’s younger brother, hurriedly apologized, “Sorry, Director Chen, sorry, Qun Jie.”
Fang Qun suppressed her outward emotions and comforted them, “It’s okay, this often happens during filming. Let’s prepare and continue.”
“Alright.”
Fang Qun then went back inside and rushed out again. This time, her emotional expression was more controlled but still conveyed urgency that Meng Kaiyan could feel even from several meters away.
Jian Zhenzhu pulled Meng Kaiyan close and whispered, “That young man is a third-year student at the Film Academy. His reputation in the crew isn’t great. I just heard from a cinematographer that since he joined, he’s been constantly seeking out Screenwriter Lin.”
The screenplay was written by Lin Qing, a renowned domestic writer known for numerous excellent scripts.
Alongside her professional skills, Lin Qing was also known for her personal life, but as a behind-the-scenes figure, only some insiders knew about it.
Meng Kaiyan had heard rumors from the theater troupe teachers and couldn’t help but let out a small “wow.”
Jian Zhenzhu shook her head, “That boy is too eager for quick success. This production has a huge budget, with top names from the director to the lead actors. Lin Qing won’t add scenes for him so easily.”
Meng Kaiyan replied, “Maybe it’s not for this production.”
Jian Zhenzhu considered this and said, “True. But it’s still uncertain whether Lin Qing even favors him. This industry is full of attractive young men and women. Those with talent can hold their ground; those without are like sandcastles on the beach—washed away by the tide. In the end, relying on anyone is less reliable than relying on yourself.”
Liu Lingyun’s acting skills were average; it took him seven or eight takes to barely pass the scene.
Later, Meng Kaiyan clearly sensed the camera shifting focus away from him; his originally intended spotlight was instead on a supporting actor’s face.
In this take, the camera had subconsciously given up on him.
The following scenes went smoothly, with Fang Qun setting the rhythm, and even Director Chen Man’s frown eased.
Soon, it was Meng Kaiyan’s turn to appear.
Meng Kaiyan greeted, “Hello, Teacher Fang. My name is Meng Kaiyan, and I play Cui Cui in this drama.”
Fang Qun nodded and smiled, “I’ve seen your audition scene. Very good.”
Meng Kaiyan smiled with pursed lips, “Thank you, Teacher Fang.”
“Hey!” Fang Qun patted her shoulder. “Smile bigger, show both rows of teeth. A young lady should be confident and open.”
Immediately, Meng Kaiyan’s cheeks flushed.
Chen Man approached holding the script. “Stop teasing the kid. Fang Qun, help guide Meng a bit. The girl’s first scene is emotionally intense; it’s not easy.”
“Got it.”
Chen Man then turned to Meng Kaiyan. “Don’t be nervous, Meng. Find your rhythm first; once you get the feeling, you’ll slip into character quickly. Bai Yang spoke highly of your acting.”
“Thank you, Director,” Meng Kaiyan replied seriously.
Chen Man seemed genuinely concerned that Meng Kaiyan might struggle, so she carefully instructed her on blocking.
“When Fang Qun runs in from the alley, you don’t move. Just stare straight at her, okay? Cui Cui’s actually blaming Qiao Hua here. But your eyes shouldn’t be too revealing. You just arrived home, don’t know the situation, so you’re naturally cautious. Like a cat, new to an environment—it’s careful at first, only playing freely after sensing no danger.”
“At the same time, you need to show some spirit. You’re young, your disguise isn’t perfect; people can see through it.”
Meng Kaiyan nodded, “Understood.”
The crew quickly set the scene. Meng Kaiyan took her position, took a deep breath, and began her first scene in the drama.
—
Since Yang Qiao Hua moved her home to the alley, the place had become lively, with fresh happenings every few days.
Even the nearby police station saw more “business,” and the Yang family had become frequent visitors.
Most incidents were trivial, but today something major happened.
What was it? Rumor had it that the niece Cui Cui, lost by Yang Qiao Hua, had been found.
That girl, called Cui Cui, was often the reason Yang Qiao Hua’s eldest brother and sister-in-law came knocking to demand money, claiming they needed to find her. Even though usually sharp and principled, Qiao Hua would give in and pay whenever they brought up Cui Cui.
Over time, the alley residents realized that finding the child was just an excuse for the brother and sister-in-law. Why did Qiao Hua keep paying again and again?
The siblings claimed Cui Cui was lost because of Qiao Hua. Sometimes, when the money wasn’t enough, in anger they even said Qiao Hua had sold Cui Cui. Otherwise, how could Qiao Hua have found a job in the city so quickly? It seemed too coincidental.
Qiao Hua had cried many times in frustration over this, fully aware of the siblings’ intentions. Every year on the day Cui Cui went missing, she would mutter apologies to the child. After being persuaded, her hardened heart softened, and when the siblings came asking, she paid again.
Over time, the neighbors stopped advising. It was a willing giving and taking; advice was pointless.
But Qiao Hua was well-liked, so everyone privately hoped Cui Cui would be found soon, or else Qiao Hua would be forever at the mercy of her brother’s family.
So when news broke that Cui Cui had been found, the alley’s residents flocked to the police station to witness the commotion.
Though they didn’t see her, they heard enough stories to be very curious about the legendary Cui Cui’s appearance.
How to describe her? After seeing her, most people thought she was quite different from what they imagined.
Having heard so many tragic tales, their first impression had been one of sorrow, like a withered flower.
But this young woman was indeed thin as a reed, yet her posture was straighter than that reed.
And her eyes—those eyes looked fierce, frankly like a wolf cub.
As people debated whether this Cui Cui was really Qiao Hua’s niece, Qiao Hua dashed into the police station.
—
Cui Cui—or rather, Meng Kaiyan—was so overwhelmed by the powerful emotions that she momentarily broke character.
She believed she had talent and had worked hard in this field, but at no moment was she more aware of how fragile her so-called gift and effort really were.
Fang Qun did not pause to give Meng Kaiyan time to recover, nor did the director call “cut,” even as Meng Kaiyan remained stunned.
The crane-mounted camera slowly rose behind Meng Kaiyan, its precise mechanical movement focusing on Fang Qun.
“Cui Cui! It’s really you, Cui Cui!”
“Qiao Hua” rolled up Cui Cui’s sleeve, and upon seeing the familiar scar on her arm, tears poured down her face.
That scar was left when Cui Cui was three, falling onto a pair of fire tongs—a unique shape that “Qiao Hua” could never forget.
She traced it with her hand, her lips trembling as she sobbed uncontrollably. Meng Kaiyan could even hear the chattering of her teeth.
Tears streamed from her reddened eyes, dropping onto Meng Kaiyan’s hand. Instinctively, Meng Kaiyan pulled back her elbow and lowered her gaze to avoid Fang Qun’s burning stare.
“Cui Cui, it’s me. Where have you been all these years? I’ve failed you… I’ve failed you by not watching over you!”
Her voice choked with tears. The nearby extras were so moved that some eyes reddened.
Chen Man, a masterful director, knew that emotional scenes of such intensity were best done in one take. The coordination on set was flawless.
Several cameras worked in unison. Chen Man sat behind the monitors, focusing especially on Meng Kaiyan.
Chen Man laughed, “The girl’s frozen.”
Her assistant said, “Pretty impressive. Frozen but not foolish. She knows not to let her eyes wander since no ‘cut’ was called.”
Chen Man replied, “Exactly. Being frozen brings her closer to Cui Cui. Fang Qun does this deliberately; she always uses this trick with young actors. Like just now, that guy... Liu failed to catch her acting, so she kept pushing him to take it seriously. This time, she found someone tougher to play off.”
Assistant: “Qun Jie’s scared too.”
Chen Man dropped the subject and called “cut.” The take passed smoothly. The follow-up scenes were equally smooth, so much so that Meng Kaiyan was still dazed after wrapping.
“Little Meng, you’re amazing! That’s a great start—first scene, first take,” said Yang Da, who played the public security officer, beaming. The midday sun was scorching, and no one wanted to waste time with multiple takes under it.
Meng Kaiyan’s stiff body gradually relaxed. She took the water Jian Zhenzhu offered and drank deeply before exhaling, “I was nearly scared to death just now. Teacher Fang is incredible—her acting is impossible to catch.”
Yang Da smiled, “Teacher Fang has won Best Actress twice already. At your age, if you could handle her explosive scenes and play off her, you’d be a monster.”
It was already a success to barely keep up. The director was satisfied. Over the past few years, many young actors had frustrated the crew with poor performances. Yang Da sighed, thinking about his next scene with that Liu guy, which would be outdoors.
Meng Kaiyan’s second scene began soon after. Perhaps due to her cooperation, Fang Qun toned it down a bit, even subtly guiding the camera to bring Meng Kaiyan back into focus.
There was no denying that a great actor could control the whole set. Under Fang Qun’s influence, Meng Kaiyan felt like a marionette, her emotions, movements, and even expressions led by Fang Qun.
Because of this, she was called for multiple takes.
“Little Meng, your eyes aren’t right. Why are you afraid of Qiao Hua? You should be furious, ready to fight her. You can’t avoid her.”
“Put some strength into it, Little Meng. Haven’t you eaten? Push hard—push Teacher Fang’s butt until it turns blue; she won’t mind.”
“Little Meng, do you ever lose your temper? Your emotions are too stable. You need to show the spirit of wanting to die together with Teacher Fang. Throw things hard—don’t be afraid. You’re not paying, so what are you scared of?”
Within just a few days, Meng Kaiyan was thoroughly exhausted, dreaming at night of Director Chen Man holding the camera, shouting at her to take the knife and chop someone.