Chapter 68: Delivering the Letter

“Director Qiao’s granddaughter?”

Not only was the director surprised, but Gu Yu also hadn’t expected Jiang Bomu to directly reveal her identity. She didn’t react for a moment, instinctively putting on a smile. “Hello, Director Liu.”

“Why call me Director Liu? So formal,” the director said, looking at her with affectionate warmth. “By seniority, you should call me Auntie Liu. How is your grandmother’s health? Are you still in school? What year?”

Gu Yu mechanically answered the questions: “She’s well. I’m in school. Junior year.”

It wasn’t her fault her responses were so stiff; she was still a bit dazed.

“You’re already in university? You look so young,” the director said with a laugh, sizing her up and down before showering her with praise. “What a fine-looking girl.”

Jiang Bomu stepped forward to rescue her. “Director, stop teasing her. This child is a bit shy.”

Hearing this, Gu Yu could only feign shyness and retreat to the side. Out of others’ sight, she squeezed Jiang Bomu’s palm. You’re the child! You’re the shy one!

Jiang Bomu’s expression remained unchanged as she continued discussing filming matters with the director.

Tao Tao quietly asked, “Teacher Gu, what’s going on?”

She had always assumed Gu Yu was a distant relative of Jiang Bomu. Today was the first time she’d learned Gu Yu’s background, and she was stunned. She never imagined Gu Yu was Director Qiao’s granddaughter.

“I have no idea,” Gu Yu said innocently. “Before coming, she never mentioned she was going to pull this.”

She had been diligently playing the little assistant, and then bam, her cover was blown completely. She hadn’t even reacted herself.

Tao Tao scratched her head, her mental CPU nearly fried. When Teacher Gu was the little assistant last time, everything was fine, wasn’t it? Why suddenly this time…

A possibility struck her, and she asked, suppressed excitement in her voice, “Could Mu-jie be planning to make your relationship public?”

Gu Yu: “…Don’t talk nonsense.”

Pausing, she added, “What relationship do we have, exactly?” Hmph, she hadn’t agreed to get together yet!

Tao Tao made a face, eyes crinkling, and whispered, “Do you really want me to say it out loud?”

Gu Yu put on an old-sage air. “Go ahead.”

“It’s… just…” Tao Tao became the embarrassed one instead, stomping her foot. “Aiyah, anyway, it’s that kind of relationship!”

Though she’d seen all sorts of scandals in the entertainment world—relationships even more bizarre and jaw-dropping than homosexuality—Tao Tao still couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Feigning sudden understanding, Gu Yu said, “Ah, I get it. You mean a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship.”

Tao Tao’s eyes widened, and she waved her hands frantically. “No way!”

Her gestures and expressions were straight out of a two-dimensional anime girl.

Gu Yu sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if you lied about your age. How come you look even more childish than me?”

Tao Tao grumbled under her breath, “Drawing a circle to curse you.”

“Even more like one now.”

“What are you chatting about so happily?”

At some unknown point, Jiang Bomu had finished talking with the director and was now seated in a chair, flipping through her script. Her tone was flat, leaving it unclear how much she had overheard.

“Nothing, nothing,” Tao Tao nearly jumped up and hurriedly changed the subject. “Mu-jie, are you hot? Let me get out the little fan.”

“No need,” Jiang Bomu’s gaze swept over Tao Tao’s bright red face. “You look like you need it more.”

Tao Tao silently pulled out the little fan for herself.

Thanks to her identity as “Director Qiao’s granddaughter,” Gu Yu also had her own chair now. She moved the chair next to Jiang Bomu’s, sat down, and leaned in very close, whispering, “Why not let me be the little assistant anymore?”

No matter how intimate they were in the hotel, being pressed together so closely in public still made Jiang Bomu a little uncomfortable. She murmured, “Move a bit further away.”

“People will just think we have a good relationship. They won’t think anything else,” Gu Yu whispered directly into her ear. “Even if I touch your hand, it won’t be an issue.”

As she spoke, Gu Yu’s fingers glided up her arm.

“Sister,” Gu Yu breathed, “feeling both scared and thrilled?”

A tingling numbness spread from elbow to wrist, like an electric current. As she’d said, the fear of being discovered deepened while a secretive thrill snaked up from her heart, coiling around her palm. Jiang Bomu clutched the script tightly, unconsciously crumpling the pages.

They were the most intimate partners, yet to others, they were simply the closest of friends. Besides her and Gu Yu, no one knew they kissed and caressed every day, whispering their love for each other.

When those warm, dry fingertips traced ambiguously across her slightly damp palm, Jiang Bomu squeezed them tightly, making her fingertips as moist as her own, drawing a soft laugh.

To Jiang Bomu, that laugh carried a hint of coquettish charm. She sighed lowly, “Xunxun, you really are a siren.”

“Mhm, a siren who only seduces Jiang Bomu.”

It was almost time for Jiang Bomu to film. Afraid she wouldn’t be able to get into character, Gu Yu let go of her hand and said a quick “You’ve got this,” falling silent.

Jiang Bomu also pulled herself out of the flirtatious atmosphere, took a deep breath, and slipped into character.

This scene required the female lead, having suffered sexual assault, to consider telling her estranged parents, only to fear receiving strange looks. She repeatedly typed messages and deleted them, ultimately deciding to forget it and swallow all the bitterness alone.

This scene had no outburst or conflict; the camera focused entirely on facial close-ups. It tested acting skills heavily, as the emotional progression was particularly crucial.

“All actors ready, Action!”

Gu Yu’s heart also leaped into her throat at those words. She somewhat regretted teasing Jiang Bomu before the scene. If she performed poorly, it would definitely affect her mood for the entire day.

But the moment the words fell, that worry vanished from her mind. She became wholly absorbed in the character Jiang Bomu was portraying. The trembling lashes, the aggrieved eyes, the faint tears at the corners, and the slight twitch of her lips—every detail moved the heart.

Setting her phone down, Jiang Bomu looked out the window, at the green trees against the blue sky, yet everything seemed shrouded in haze.

The scene up to this point was complete. The director was about to call “Cut” when she saw Jiang Bomu raise a hand to brush back the hair falling over her forehead, faint traces of tears glistening in the sunlight from the window, creating a sense of resilient, gentle strength.

“Cut!”

Jiang Bomu walked over and studied the monitor screen seriously. The director was extremely satisfied, her face wreathed in smiles. “Keep this take. Xiao Mu, you did very well. Next scene, prepa—”

Before the word “-ration” could leave her mouth, Jiang Bomu said, “Director, I feel the emotional handling wasn’t quite enough. Can we do one more take?”

Gu Yu was astonished. That wasn’t enough? She almost cried!

Tao Tao was already in tears but hadn’t forgotten her duties. She casually wiped the corner of her eye before stepping forward to fix Jiang Bomu’s hair.

But since this take hadn’t met Jiang Bomu’s own standards, the director agreed to another one.

A film only has about two hours of runtime and a three-month shooting schedule—no need to rush. They could afford to polish things slowly. So, the entire day was spent polishing various things. Every time Gu Yu thought something was already perfect, the director and Jiang Bomu would be unsatisfied, resulting in take after take. No one complained of being tired.

Since others weren’t complaining, Gu Yu was too embarrassed to do so either. But the moment she returned to the hotel, she collapsed onto the bed immediately, so tired she couldn’t muster the energy to move a single finger.

“I finally understand why you revealed my identity,” Gu Yu said, her voice barely a whisper. “It was for my life’s sake.”

Helping out occasionally was exhausting enough. If she had continued as the little assistant, she would have dropped dead right at her post.

Jiang Bomu was tired too, but today’s filming results left her very satisfied. Happiness outweighed the fatigue. She hummed a tune while removing her makeup, her movements bright and cheerful.

“It was for the sake of our future.”

Curious, Gu Yu asked, “What future?”

“When we go public someday, we can’t have others thinking you were really just my little assistant, right?”

So Tao Tao had actually guessed correctly. Gu Yu felt a burst of sweetness inside but said aloud, “I’m not your girlfriend yet.”

“Sooner or later, you will be.”

Gu Yu flopped back down, her hands pillowed behind her head, grinning foolishly at Jiang Bomu’s back. Yeah, sooner or later.

It was just missing one catalyst.

The days of being friends on set and lovers at the hotel didn’t last long. Soon, Gu Yu had to return to school.

The night before her departure, Gu Yu suggested they go for a walk.

Jiang Bomu, who had been fretting over finding an excuse to send Gu Yu away temporarily, immediately agreed. “Let Tao Tao go with you.”

Gu Yu looked at her, surprised. “I meant a walk with you.”

“I have something to do,” Jiang Bomu looked around the room, her eyes landing on the open script. Composing herself, she fabricated the lie, “I need to go over tomorrow’s scenes a bit more.”

Gu Yu thought about it. Tomorrow’s scenes were arguably the movie’s biggest emotional climax; that’s why Jiang Bomu had been reading the script non-stop since coming back from set. But it was a case of diminishing returns—with her here, Jiang Bomu simply couldn’t focus.

Though she was a little disappointed they couldn’t walk together, tomorrow’s shoot was more important. Gu Yu stopped pestering her and went to find her sneakers. “Then I’ll stroll a bit longer. Is two hours enough?”

Before Jiang Bomu could respond, Gu Yu giggled and said, “But Sister, didn’t you say before that you could concentrate on the script even on set? Why can’t you when I’m around?”

She thought Jiang Bomu would respond with something romantic. Instead, Jiang Bomu sighed and confessed bluntly, “Because you’re constantly disturbing me. One moment you want me to look at your phone, the next you’re talking to me, then you want to kiss. When do I have time to read the script?”

Gu Yu: “…I’ll come back in three hours.”

The three of them met in the corridor. Tao Tao secretly slipped Jiang Bomu a room card, then immediately linked arms with Gu Yu and left.

Once their figures disappeared, Jiang Bomu went to Tao Tao’s room, opened the package she’d received, and began transcribing the letter from her phone’s memo app.

The package had arrived days ago, but since she and Gu Yu were always together, she’d never found a chance to write. Seeing as Gu Yu was leaving tomorrow, she had to do it today.

After finishing, she carefully checked for any errors or omissions. She suddenly recalled that day at Gu Yu’s place, when Gu Yu said sending letters was a very old-fashioned way to confess. She sank into thought. Was it really that old-fashioned?

She quite liked it.

Gu Yu’s flight was early on the morning of the 7th. By coincidence, Jiang Bomu had no scenes, so she drove her to the airport.

“At school, take good care of yourself, understand?”

“If you’re short on money or feeling upset, you must tell me.”

“Of course, when something happy happens, remember to share it with me too.”

Gu Yu sat in the passenger seat watching her, responding dully, promising to follow every piece of advice.

The next time they saw each other would probably be winter break. She wanted to keep looking at her, just a little longer.

It was an hour’s drive from the film set hotel to the airport, yet Gu Yu felt it passed in the blink of an eye. As she dragged her luggage out of the trunk, she thought, If only winter break would also arrive in the blink of an eye.

“Sister, I’m off,” she hugged Jiang Bomu. “Think of me every day.”

Jiang Bomu naturally agreed. The letter in her pocket burned, reminding her she still hadn’t given it.

As Gu Yu turned around, Jiang Bomu stepped forward, finally summoning the courage to speak: “Xunxun, read this when you get back.”

Puzzled, Gu Yu looked down.

It was a pink envelope, not only affixed with a stamp, but the flap was sealed with a wax seal stamp, clearly conveying how exceedingly formal this letter was.