Chapter 53: Mask

The cinema was in a mall in Ning City’s CBD central area. The car they were riding in happened to pass near the building where Shenghe Group was located. Shen Xici looked through the car window at the lights on the building’s exterior wall—the visual effects of flowing light and overflowing colors were very beautiful.

The fragmented light outside the window reflected in his eyes, as if countless stars were falling from the ninth heaven.

He was looking at the scenery outside and didn’t notice that Sheng Shaoyan’s gaze had been resting on him the entire time.

Getting out of the car in the parking garage, Shen Xici put on a black mask, covering most of his face, then reminded Sheng Shaoyan to wear one too.

“I’m not a public figure, I don’t need to wear a mask.”

Shen Xici asked him: “Did you book out the venue?”

“No.” Sheng Shaoyan had originally planned to book the entire cinema and even clear the area from the elevator entrance to the cinema doors, but he felt that Shen Xici probably wouldn’t like that, so he abandoned this plan.

“Then that’s exactly it.” Shen Xici raised his chin. “Please have some self-awareness as a handsome guy, okay? If you just walk to the cinema entrance like this, passersby will definitely think you’re some celebrity here to promote a new film about to be released. Then you’ll attract attention, and breaking through the crowds will be difficult.”

Sheng Shaoyan paused: “I don’t have a mask. Do you have another one?”

Shen Xici really did have one. He’d prepared several when leaving home and took one out.

Unexpectedly, when he handed it over, Sheng Shaoyan didn’t take it. Instead, he put both hands in his pockets and lowered his head slightly toward him, like a tamed lion that had retracted all its claws and fangs in an instant.

Shen Xici was stunned, then helpless—how could someone be this lazy? Putting on a mask—could it cause wear and tear on his precious hands?

However, when they were eating at Meiyuan, he had vaguely sensed that Sheng Shaoyan had been in quite a good mood at first, but unexpectedly, after he took Zhong Yue’s call and went back, the other’s mood index plummeted—he wasn’t very happy.

Could it be that during those few minutes he was on the phone, one of Sheng Shaoyan’s subordinates caused trouble? Or had Sheng Junhong added to Sheng Shaoyan’s troubles again?

Imagining the lion’s fur standing on end, Shen Xici suppressed his laughter and reached out to help Sheng Shaoyan put on the mask.

“There, it’s on.” Shen Xici examined the face before him and thought that Slavic bloodlines were indeed formidable. Although it was only one-quarter, with most of his face covered, he really had that Slavic masked heartthrob feel—deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, and a pair of dark blue eyes that were both profound and affectionate. Even he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter.

Shen Xici sighed sincerely, “After you put on the mask, how did you become even more handsome?”

Seeing that his eyes reflected only himself, beneath the mask, the corners of Sheng Shaoyan’s mouth curved up. The negative emotions brought on by jealousy cleared by two points: “Really?”

Shen Xici thought to himself that even lions liked to be stroked in the right direction. His tone was sincere: “Yes! If this mask brand hired you to shoot an advertisement, sales would definitely multiply dozens of times!”

Sheng Shaoyan gave a light “Mm.”

Unable to see the expression under the mask, Shen Xici could feel that the person before him had brightened up entirely.

He didn’t know how Sheng Shaoyan had arranged things, but from taking the elevator in the underground parking garage to the passage leading to the screening hall, they didn’t encounter anyone else along the way.

Shen Xici was chatting with Sheng Shaoyan about what had happened in the crew a few days ago. As they talked, passing by a mirror, he glanced casually, but his gaze involuntarily lingered for a few seconds.

In the mirror, he and Sheng Shaoyan were similar in height, wearing denim jackets in different colors but similar styles, along with matching black masks. Walking side by side, at first glance, didn’t they look so much like… couple’s outfits?

Seeing him stop, Sheng Shaoyan also stopped and asked: “What’s wrong?”

Noticing that Sheng Shaoyan was also about to look in the mirror, that guilty feeling surfaced again. Shen Xici quickly pushed the person forward a few steps: “Nothing, nothing, the movie’s about to start!”

Outside the screening hall stood a huge movie promotional poster, with character standees beside it for fans to take photos with. On the poster, Zhong Yue and Wen Yage were in the center positions, one on the left, one on the right. Second from the left was Tao Le, who played the young police officer Xiao Lin, and second from the right was unexpectedly the mute youth in a plain white robe.

In the cast list at the bottom of the poster, his name ranked fourth, followed by Ling Duo, who played the villain organization’s boss, and Xu Lingjia, who played the undercover agent A’Zheng.

He remembered that in his previous life, his name had ranked sixth or seventh.

“You’re fourth billing?”

Shen Xici was surprised: “How do you understand this kind of fan circle terminology?”

Sheng Shaoyan’s facial expression didn’t reveal anything as he found an excuse: “I heard people mention it on set before, so I remembered it.”

Shen Xici didn’t doubt it, but once again felt the disadvantages of not having a team. As his career continued to advance, situations like constantly being immersed in the production of ‘Fleeting Life’ would only become more frequent. He had almost no extra energy to pay attention to matters outside the script and filming.

Regarding promotional matters, Director Wan’s side seemed to have mentioned them to him, but his mind retained no impression whatsoever.

He was now counting on Ge Lanjing having finished her maternity leave. After finalizing the management contract, he could return to the crew to continue filming with peace of mind.

When entering the screening hall with Sheng Shaoyan, the lights inside had already been turned off. When they found their seats, Shen Xici discovered that although this President Sheng had restrained himself from booking out the entire venue, he had bought all the tickets for their entire row.

In his previous life, Sheng Shaoyan had done the same thing. The purpose was to avoid physical contact with others when moving in and out. He could only say—he really didn’t understand these wealthy people!

This wasn’t Shen Xici’s first time watching a movie he’d acted in, but every time he watched, he still found it novel.

They were clearly people he’d eaten with and chatted with on set, but on the big screen, they became different people with completely different identities—it was very marvelous.

Having read the complete script, he was clear about how the plot would develop. Shen Xici’s attention was more focused on Director Wan’s filming techniques, camera movement methods, close-up angles, and shot composition. Zhong Yue came from a professional academy background, Wen Yage’s acting talent was maxed out—both their performance styles had much to analyze and learn from. Sitting in the audience, Shen Xici was like attending a class, his mind clear of distractions, all his attention gathered.

Sheng Shaoyan was indifferent about whether he liked or disliked movies, but the art of light and shadow was also part of art appreciation. He had taken related courses.

Undeniably, as an internationally renowned director who had won many major awards, Wan Shan’s level was indeed very high. The visuals and music were up to standard, every shot was quite aesthetically pleasing. In terms of plot, the early tug-of-war between the pursuit team and the criminal organization, with overt and covert plot lines interweaving, the rhythm and transitions precisely hit the audience’s hearts like drumbeats.

On set, he often helped Shen Xici rehearse lines with the script. Combined with Sheng Shaoyan’s excellent memory, comparing the two, he discovered that during post-production editing, Wan Shan had adjusted the scenes. The most obvious change was that the mute youth’s shots had increased, while half of undercover agent A’Zheng’s scenes had been cut, leaving only shots that ensured plot integrity.

Setting aside his position, Sheng Shaoyan approved of this decision. Making movies was also doing business—both art and box office were goals. Any factors that interfered with achieving these two goals should be eliminated.

At the same time, the topic #Newcomer Actor Xu Lingjia# was still hanging in Weibo’s top ten hot searches. Between fans’ screen-flooding, gradually different voices emerged.

“—I’m at the cinema. Although the plot is only halfway through, how should I put it… anyway, the surprise Wan Shan mentioned might not be Shen Xici, but it’s definitely not Xu Lingjia either. Otherwise, I’d suspect Wan Shan is either blind or was kidnapped!”

“—Judging from those shots and close-ups, you can feel the director already tried hard to salvage it, but Xu Lingjia’s acting is really terrible. This thing simply can’t be saved…”

“—Who understands? I was enjoying watching Zhong Yue and Wen Yage’s acting duel, then the camera suddenly switches to Xu Lingjia’s face. Help! Save my eyes!! Can someone cut that face out!”

“—Fans, stop sending me private messages cursing me! After watching the movie, put your hand on your conscience and tell me whether your Jiajia’s acting is eye-gougingly bad or not! Tell me!”

“—This topic has been up for days. Before the release, I still held expectations. Now I only wonder—was this hot search deliberately bought by Xu Lingjia’s rival… Too cringeworthy!!”

As the plot deepened, the story gradually shifted to unfold in the mountains at the border. Zhong Yue’s pursuit team leader and Tao Le’s young police officer Xiao Lin climbed out of a trap in the forest, covered in mud and rotten leaves, walking forward. After that line “materialist warriors don’t talk about ghosts,” ethereal and melodious leaf flute music came from off-screen.

A small stone fell at their feet.

The camera pulled up along the tree trunk. The audience followed the perspective of the two people in the film, continuously looking up—the mute youth appeared on the big screen.

Several obvious gasps sounded in the dark screening hall, followed by whispers.

“Hiss—My god! I didn’t even dare blink just now!”

“Shen Xici! I watched this movie just to wait for him to appear ahhhhh!”

On Weibo, the topic #Shen Xici#’s popularity began gradually rising.

“—Nobody told me Shen Xici looks this good in this movie! The trailer only flashed a few shots! The director definitely did it on purpose!”

“—Ahhhhhhhh! Where’s the progress bar for that entrance segment? Play it ten more times! I’m going for a third viewing! Too stunning! The entrance visuals reminded me of Dunhuang murals wuwuwu!”

“—Where did those people who said before the release that Shen Xici’s acting was bad, that he awkwardly acted through the whole thing relying on his face, that he got into the crew through connections—where did they go? This acting can be called bad? It crushes certain theater academy students in the film, okay!”

“—Holy crap, my new wall has appeared! I shouldn’t have believed those marketing accounts’ nonsense, saying Shen Xici has capital and big shots supporting him behind the scenes. With this acting and looks, does he still need to lick up to capital? If I were capital, I’d beg him to act!”

“—The gold content of Birdwatching Uncle’s ‘Child of the Mountain God’ photo set is still rising!”

Sheng Shaoyan also hadn’t expected this scene’s visual impact to be this great—even his thinking stalled for a few seconds.

Seeing on the big screen, in the continuous mountain forests, in the myriad rays of the rising morning sun, the barefoot mute youth leaning against a tree trunk, sitting on a branch, his plain white robe fluttering in the morning breeze, eyes slightly lowered, holding a leaf in his mouth and playing a melody—only two words floated through his mind: divinity.

Ultimate aesthetics, combined with lofty, untainted divinity.

On him seemed to converge all the favoritism of the mountain forest’s morning dew.

Gods are indifferent, but after Shen Xici came down from the tree, his eyes were lively and clear. He couldn’t speak, yet could easily let people understand his longing, difficulty, and reluctance—making them empathize.

Almost every scene, during filming, Sheng Shaoyan had watched from outside the camera on set, yet Shen Xici’s acting didn’t make him feel it broke immersion at all.

The plot progressed to where Shen Xici raised his bow and arrow but couldn’t bring himself to attack Wen Yage. At the old village chief’s signal, he was violently beaten by two tall, strong villagers.

The camera focused on the bright eyes visible through the gaps in the curled-up mute youth’s arms protecting his head.

Sheng Shaoyan felt his heart being gripped, a stifling, suffocating feeling that wouldn’t dissipate. He couldn’t even continue watching.

He had thought about it many times—Shen Xici’s constitution didn’t scar easily, but there was one burn mark that still hadn’t disappeared, scalded by a burning piece of wood by the man Shen Xici refused to call “father.”

No marks left didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

In those years he hadn’t known about, how much more had Shen Xici endured?

He was very clear that Shen Xici was resilient and determined, didn’t need excessive comfort or pity, because Shen Xici knew exactly what kind of person he wanted to become. He had extremely strong will to resist the malice, violence, and verbal curses and insults he encountered during his growth.

He never complained about suffering, which made him even more heartbreaking.

Sheng Shaoyan clearly felt as if he had fallen into a whirlpool named “Shen Xici.” Besides being drawn deeper and deeper, there was no possibility of escape. This made him unable to control himself from turning his head to look at the person sitting beside him.

Shen Xici’s black mask was pulled down halfway, only covering his lips and chin. The light and shadow from the screen intertwined on his face, creating an eerily beautiful effect.

Sheng Shaoyan lowered his voice: “Does it still hurt?”

His gaze didn’t move from the big screen. Shen Xici also kept his voice extremely low, his words carrying laughter: “How could it still hurt? Those actor teachers were very good at controlling their strength when hitting—it didn’t hurt even during filming.”

“What about the injuries you received as a child?”

As a child?

Shen Xici turned his head and, in the dim cinema, met Sheng Shaoyan’s gaze.

He understood the emotion in the other’s eyes.

This person felt heartache for him.

The feeling of being felt sorry for was always good.