Chapter 7: The Second Bowl of “Soft Rice”

The boxed meals for the film crew were prepared in fixed quantities each day and delivered from a restaurant in Sui County. Shen Xici had contacted the owner of the restaurant in advance, paying extra to have one additional meal made.

Sheng Shaoyan and Lan Xiaoshan went to pick up lunch together. The owner handed over two stacked disposable meal boxes, looking Sheng Shaoyan over with curiosity. “So, it’s you!”

Lan Xiaoshan, who was beside the insulated container looking for a meal box that looked presentable and wasn’t leaking oil, immediately took two steps forward at these words. He instinctively took on the responsibility of protecting Sheng Shaoyan and asked warily, “Boss, what do you mean ‘so it’s you’? Do you know my big brother?”

“No garlic, right? The actor you’re with, he stressed five or six times over the phone not to add any garlic, not even garlic juice. Said he has some kind of intolerance to allicin,” the owner said, pointing to the meal box in Sheng Shaoyan’s hand. “To think there’s actually someone allergic to garlic. I was extra careful, not even a speck of minced garlic splashed into it!”

Lan Xiaoshan’s heart relaxed. He had thought the owner knew about Brother Shen’s secret relationship with Sheng Shaoyan, but it turned out to be just this. He couldn’t help but marvel internally once again at the high status this brother held in Brother Shen’s heart.

He quickly expressed his thanks, “Thank you, boss, for being so meticulous!”

The owner waved his hand generously. “No need to thank me, he paid double the price!”

On the way back, Lan Xiaoshan sighed with emotion, “Brother, Brother Shen is so good to you. He’s never willing to spend money on extra dishes for himself, yet he’s willing to use the power of money to have the boss cook a separate, garlic-free meal for you.”

Mentally raising Sheng Shaoyan’s level of importance yet again, Lan Xiaoshan tried his best to express his own attentiveness. “When we get back, I’ll give you another spray of mosquito repellent! I’ll aim for a five-layer anti-mosquito armor!”

The pungent five-layer armor only earned an absentminded “En.” Sheng Shaoyan’s mood was somewhat complicated. He tried to recall what Shen Xici didn’t eat, but he couldn’t grasp even the faintest impression.

Perhaps it was because he had lost his memory, but Sheng Shaoyan felt it was more likely that his past self had simply never cared what Shen Xici liked or disliked.

During lunchtime, many people were walking back from the meal distribution point. Someone was chatting idly, “Did you see? The paparazzi dropped a huge scoop, releasing photos of Wen Yage on a date with a young hunk last month! Tsk tsk, if I remember correctly, she left the set last month because she was sick and needed to be hospitalized, right? In just those few days, she managed to squeeze in a secret rendezvous?”

Lan Xiaoshan pricked up his ears and whispered to Sheng Shaoyan, “Whoa, Wen Yage? The female lead of our movie! It’s said that her contact list has at least one hundred and fifty handsome men, spanning all age groups and styles!”

A crew member let out the wail of a wage slave, “Every time I’m on set, it takes half my life. I want to join Sister Wen’s harem too! I don’t want to work anymore! Sister, hungry, feed me!”

The person next to him delivered a harsh truth, “Teacher Wen isn’t severely nearsighted. How could she possibly take a liking to you?”

“Anyone with a dream is amazing! Anything is possible!”

“The likes of you are impossible. You’d have to be at least… look, look, at that level! Even though you can’t see the face, look at that height, that figure, that waist, those legs, wow, a total masterpiece!”

Lan Xiaoshan winked his monolid eye at Sheng Shaoyan. “Brother, they’re talking about you! I guess they have good taste!”

After he said it, it didn’t seem quite right. Lan Xiaoshan quickly said “Pah!” and corrected himself, “Brother, I didn’t mean you’re going to live off someone! You look like you have a successful career, with an annual salary of at least a million!”

“It’s fine.” Sheng Shaoyan, who had no job, idled his days away, and was currently living off someone, silently pulled his black mask up a little higher.

Shen Xici came over after changing his clothes and sat down on a plastic stool. Seeing that the food in Sheng Shaoyan’s meal box was almost finished, which meant it was to his liking, he turned to ask Lan Xiaoshan, “Xiaoshan, what time does my scene start this afternoon?”

The night before, Lan Xiaoshan had memorized everything on the call sheet related to Shen Xici. “It starts at 3:15, the part where the mute boy talks to the village chief. I went to check it out earlier. The props team is amazing, the village they built is already so good and realistic. The village chief’s house is even more impressive, the interior is decorated as if someone actually lives there!”

Shen Xici opened his meal box, waiting for the food to cool down a bit. He casually took out his script and flipped to the page they were going to film. The plot wasn’t complicated, but it was almost all acting with the eyes. The screenwriter had only vaguely written a few words like “dodging” and “hesitant,” so the difficulty was not small.

“Xiaoshan, after you finish eating, help me run lines. I need to get a better feel for it.”

Hearing this, Lan Xiaoshan was about to put down his chopsticks when a hand reached out from the side and took the script first.

Sheng Shaoyan said, “You keep eating. I’ll do it.”

Lan Xiaoshan swallowed the words “I’m full” and immediately held his chopsticks firmly again.

Could he fight for it? Of course, he couldn’t! Maybe the person Brother Shen wanted to run lines with wasn’t him in the first place. Not bad, not bad, he was such a sensible assistant!

Seeing Sheng Shaoyan holding the script, the scene before him momentarily overlapped with a scene from his memory.

In his past life, when he wasn’t filming, it was almost always Sheng Shaoyan who ran lines with him.

Sometimes it was at his place or Sheng Shaoyan’s place, and other times it was in Sheng Shaoyan’s office. The man was practically a line-memorizing machine. He could basically memorize several pages of lines after one read-through, and he could run lines with Shen Xici while simultaneously holding a video conference or looking at documents and reports.

A perfect tool for running lines; it would be a waste not to use him.

Shen Xici had just been worrying about what excuse he could use to bring Sheng Shaoyan to the set again tomorrow. Wasn’t this a ready-made reason?

“A’Shao, I have scenes tomorrow too. Come to the set with me to run lines, okay?”

Lan Xiaoshan ate his food quietly, screaming “Yes, yes, yes! It has to be a yes!” in his heart, while simultaneously praising himself for seeing through the surface of things at a glance.

Sheng Shaoyan didn’t ask why he didn’t have his assistant help him with the lines, only replying, “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

He was idle anyway.

“Thanks, A’Shao,” Shen Xici leaned over, pointing at the script to explain to Sheng Shaoyan. 

“The parts highlighted in fluorescent pen are my expressions and reactions. You just read the village chief’s lines. You don’t need to act them out, just read them normally. For example, here, ‘Village chief’s main hall, spring, day, interior. Close-up on the mute boy’s face. The village chief lights a pine torch to replace an oil lamp for illumination.’ You don’t have to read these parts. You don’t need to read any of the establishing shots.”

“What’s a pine torch?”

Shen Xici had done his homework thoroughly. “A pine torch comes from pine trees that grow deep in the old mountain forests. They contain pine resin. When split into thin strips and lit, they become pine torches. Many local villagers use them for light to save money.”

Feeling a slight itch, Shen Xici unconsciously touched his earlobe as he spoke.

He had already taken off the earring he wore for the role after filming. The piercing was fresh, and wearing the earring for a long time had made it a little red, like a smear of underglaze red spreading on white porcelain.

Sheng Shaoyan’s gaze lingered on that spot of red for a moment. “Does your earlobe hurt?”

“You mean the piercing?” Shen Xici took two seconds to react, then shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt. I might just have what you’d call a holy physique for ear piercings. It’s not swollen at all, I barely feel anything.”

Just then, a voice came from not too far away, “Uncle Ji, don’t disbelieve me, my fortune-telling is really accurate!”

Shen Xici looked over. Xu Lingjia must have just finished filming an action scene on the B-set, as the makeup on his face hadn’t been removed yet. He was blocking the way of Lao Ji, the head of the styling department, his tone intimate.

Lao Ji had finished his meal and was planning to take a nap. Filming started at four or five in the morning, and no one could stand it. But with Xu Lingjia blocking him, it would seem too disrespectful to just walk away.

Besides, Xu Lingjia, although spoiled by his elders while growing up and having had it a bit too easy, the young master wasn’t bad at heart. He always called him “Uncle Ji” and was quite a sweet-talker.

Finding a blue plastic chair to sit on, Lao Ji nodded, playing along with the young master’s game. “Go on, then. Are you reading my palm, my face, or my astrological chart?”

It was lunchtime on the set, not as busy as when they were filming, and the assistant director wasn’t too strict. At the mention of fortune-telling, many people came over to watch the excitement.

Xu Lingjia was very satisfied with this effect, especially when he noticed Shen Xici was also looking in this direction. He finally felt a little better.

Lying in bed last night, he had barely suppressed his anger and jealousy. After careful consideration, he figured the only reason Shen Xici could pass a scene in one take was because he was better-looking and more in line with the director’s aesthetic. However, passing this one scene in one take didn’t mean he could pass every scene in one take. Besides, once the movie was released, these people who only cared about looks would know that Shen Xici was the biggest flaw in the film.

The only difference between him and Shen Xici was his appearance.

At this thought, he seethed with resentment. Why weren’t his biological parents Cheng Ningyu and Xu Yuanjin? Why were they two poor, ugly country folk? That old woman’s hands were covered in calluses, and the wrinkles on her face were so numerous they disgusted him, and they made his appearance inferior to Shen Xici’s.

But it didn’t matter. He had already thought it through completely. He was already the chosen one, someone who could foresee the future. There were so many things he could do!

Carefully recalling the scenes from his dream in chronological order, Xu Lingjia found a good opportunity.

“Astrological charts and the like are too formulaic, I don’t do those.” Xu Lingjia’s eyes were full of confidence. “I study face reading!”

Seeing his confidence, Lao Ji became a little interested and wiped his own face. “So, have you seen anything? Will I strike it rich this year?”

Several people around them laughed, and the styling assistant laughed the loudest. “Uncle Ji, that’s so materialistic!”

Lao Ji raised an eyebrow. “Yes, money is too vulgar. I’m willing to be tainted by more of it on everyone’s behalf!”

Xu Lingjia pretended to carefully examine Lao Ji’s face twice, then his smile faded, and he spoke with a serious tone, “Uncle Ji, your facial features aren’t very good. I… I don’t dare to say.”

Lao Ji didn’t pay it much mind. “Go on, I won’t get angry.”

Xu Lingjia said with difficulty, “I see that before noon tomorrow, you will definitely encounter a bloody disaster. Although your life won’t be in danger, you’ll break either an arm or a leg.”

The surroundings fell silent. Film sets were always a bit superstitious. Even before filming in these mountains, Director Wan had led people to make offerings to the local land and mountain gods, saying a word of “pardon the intrusion.” Xu Lingjia’s words were too heavy; they sounded unlucky, like a curse.

Lao Ji’s expression changed slightly, then he smiled again. “Alright, your Uncle Ji will definitely be careful!”

Seeing Shen Xici constantly looking over there, Lan Xiaoshan also found it strange. “When did that Young Master Xu learn fortune-telling? Brother Shen, if you want your fortune told too, I can go ask around which master is more accurate!”

“My fortune was told when I was one month old. That fortune-teller was quite accurate, so there’s no need to do it again.” Shen Xici retracted his gaze. “I was just wondering how he could be so certain his fortune-telling would be accurate.”

Shen Xici ate a couple of bites of vegetables, and suddenly, a fragment of a memory flashed through his mind.

In his past life, he had come to the set one day and happened to see the assistant director ordering a roasted suckling pig, leading a few people to place it on an altar. People nearby were discussing how a lighting rig had fallen the day before and hit a crew member. The roasted suckling pig was an offering to the gods, to pray for a smooth shoot and no more accidents.

From what Xu Lingjia said, the person who got injured must have been Lao Ji, and the injury was quite serious.

In the afternoon, Shen Xici went to the makeup room at two o’clock. At three, he arrived at the village built by the props team and stood at the entrance of the village chief’s house.

Stones and hard earth were piled up to form low walls, and the roof was made of tiles. Wild grass sprouting from the cracks in the tiles even bore a few small flowers. Strings of bright yellow corn hung by the door, and game hunted in the mountains was cured into preserved meat and hung under the eaves. A banana pith, not yet eaten, stood against the wall.

The mute boy, dressed in a white robe and blue pants, stood at the entrance. He stood quietly for two seconds before stepping inside.

The room was dim. The old village chief, with a slightly hunched back, took out a match from a hand covered in calluses and cracks. With a “shhh” sound, he struck a flame and lit the pine torch on the iron lampstand.

His tone was gentle as he glanced at the mute boy. “Why aren’t you sitting?”

The mute boy lowered his gaze and stood still.

“You’ve been in the village for a few years now, still so polite? I remember when your mother brought you and your little sister to the village, you were only as tall as this old man’s waist.” After rambling for a couple of sentences, the village chief sat down in a rattan chair and, by the light of the burning pine torch, turned sideways to light his long-stemmed pipe.

After taking two puffs, amidst the swirling smoke, he spoke slowly, “The investigation team that came looking said they are tracking some criminal organization. Those people have hidden all dozen of their hostages deep in the mountains. This matter is indeed a big deal, don’t you think?”

The mute boy quickly lifted his eyes, staring at the old village chief through the smoke. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes, but the next moment, he lowered his gaze again, appearing docile and harmless, just like a newborn rabbit in a grassy nest in the mountains.

The mute boy nodded.

The old village chief was very satisfied with his attitude.

He raised his pipe, its stem yellowed from smoke. The mute boy, very perceptively, picked up a small wooden tray and held it out for the old village chief to tap the ash on its edge.

With a dull “thud,” fine white ash floated up like embers.

“I told the investigation team that you have a good memory and are smart. You’re the person in our village most familiar with that part of the mountain. The task of guiding them is in your hands.” The old village chief’s slightly turbid eyes fixed on the mute boy, his tone softening, yet it was also a warning. “You know what to do, right?”

Their gazes met in the smoke.

The mute boy’s eyelashes trembled, like a butterfly whose wings had been singed.

From a distance, Sheng Shaoyan stood outside the house, watching the scene inside through the wooden window.

Behind him was a low earthen wall mixed with dry grass and rice husks. At his feet were a few semi-new farming tools stained with mud. The surroundings were dilapidated, but because of this person’s presence, the ruined earthen house in a mountain village was transformed into a quaint village sculpture in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.

A rich floral fragrance mixed with the smell of smoke wafted over. Stiletto heels approached, the hem of a deep red trench coat brushed against a few blades of wild grass on the ground, and a woman with long hair tucked behind her ears and crimson lips stood next to Sheng Shaoyan.

Finding the air polluted, Sheng Shaoyan frowned slightly and took a step to the side, his gaze still fixed on the scene inside the house.

“Are you watching him film?”

A female voice sounded. Sheng Shaoyan looked to the side and saw a woman wrapped in a long trench coat, a slender ladies’ cigarette held between her fingers, looking up at him with a smile in her eyes.

He didn’t know her.

Sheng Shaoyan looked away.

“Although Shen Xici is a newcomer, his acting is indeed quite good. The teacher He Yunli, who plays the village chief, is a famously old-school actor. Acting opposite him creates a lot of pressure, and it’s easy to forget lines, but Shen Xici has managed to catch all of Teacher He Yunli’s eye-acting cues.” The woman exhaled a puff of menthol smoke, then changed the subject. “But in this circle, it’s too difficult to climb up from the bottom. It’s better if you have someone backing you. Someone like Shen Xici, with no connections, no money, no background, and no company, won’t have much of a future.”

She raised a delicately drawn eyebrow. “I’m Wen Yage. Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me?”

Sheng Shaoyan had just heard Lan Xiaoshan mention this name a short while ago—the female lead of this movie.

He still didn’t know her.

Seeing Sheng Shaoyan’s cold expression, Wen Yage was instead spurred by a desire to conquer.

She tapped her cigarette lightly. “You’re his boyfriend, aren’t you?” Wen Yage said nonchalantly.

Sheng Shaoyan looked at her properly for the first time. “Why do you say that?”

“Is it that hard to tell?” Wen Yage’s fingers smoothed her wind-tousled hair, the ambiguity in her eyes like honey-colored sugar threads. “You don’t have the face of someone who would be content. Since you used Shen Xici to find an opportunity to come to the set, you must be aware of how good your own assets are—good enough to easily earn a lot of money.”

Thinking back to that glimpse at noon, Wen Yage still felt a lingering sense of astonishment.

“You’re so smart, you must know that following someone like Shen Xici holds no future.”

Taking out a leather wallet with a shiny logo, Wen Yage pulled out a VIP card for a top-tier restaurant. “I don’t mind that you’ve been with a man. After we get back to Ningcheng, go have something good to eat. Try the signature dish there, Gambas al Ajillo. Don’t be so narrow-minded, letting yourself be fobbed off with a boxed meal that costs a few dozen yuan.”

Gambas al Ajillo. Sheng Shaoyan found it strange that he actually understood it: garlic-scented wild red shrimp.

Sheng Shaoyan did not accept it, refusing concisely, “I’m allergic to garlic.”

At the same time, he thought to himself: she took several detours to finally state her purpose. This level of communication, completely lacking a focal point, would have gotten her fired minutes ago if she had come to report to him, and she’d be rolling out with her personal belongings and severance pay.

Wen Yage didn’t expect to be rejected. She wasn’t annoyed either, asking patiently, “Why? What he can’t give you, you can get from me. He’s just a newcomer, and I heard his family background isn’t good either. How much money can he give you a month? Or what good opportunities can he give you?”

Sheng Shaoyan thought of the chair he had returned and the balance in Shen Xici’s bank card. Although Shen Xici was indeed poorer than he had ever imagined, from a risk management perspective, trying to live off two people at once could easily lead to a capsize.

A handsome man deserves more patience, let alone a masterpiece like this. Wen Yage softened her tone, coaxing him persuasively.

“Shen Xici watches you so closely, so worried that he wishes he could tie you to himself. In the few minutes of break during filming, besides looking at the camera and the director, he’s looking at you. Does he nag you in the morning to wear more clothes? Does he remind you to be careful when you go out? And what else, drink more water, sleep more? But you’re still young, you don’t know how cheap the concern hidden in a boxed meal worth a few dozen yuan is.”

Wen Yage seemed to recall something. In the menthol-flavored smoke, a trace of disdain appeared in her eyeliner-drawn eyes. In a tone that suggested she saw through people’s hearts, she said, “He probably also knows he can’t keep you, so he can only offer you this kind of cheap concern, hoping to make you soften up.”

Her gaze swept over him, and she deliberately used an incredulous tone, “You haven’t actually softened up, have you?”

Sheng Shaoyan looked at the silhouette visible through the small square window.

Apart from looking at the camera, he was looking at me?