Chapter 64

The subsequent filming went incredibly smoothly.

Leng Xiang and Li Guchuan’s scenes together were originally planned to take two weeks, but Leng Xiang’s progress surprised the entire crew, advancing the schedule significantly. A week later, Leng Xiang and Li Guchuan’s parts wrapped up, and Li Guchuan finished filming.

On the day Li Guchuan wrapped, his legendary partner Ling Xiao came to pick him up. Leng Xiang took a few extra glances at him.

She remembered that Ling Xiao was Tang Hui’s cousin, and Tang Hui was the love of Xiao Yue’s life after their on-again, off-again relationship finally worked out.

Although Li Guchuan was Jiang Sisi’s childhood friend, Ling Xiao and Jiang Sisi were merely acquaintances who nodded at each other—they weren’t close.

Jiang Sisi saw off Ling Xiao and Li Guchuan before returning to the set.

Leng Xiang’s gaze was immediately drawn to her.

Jiang Sisi looked like she was in low spirits.

Leng Xiang withdrew her gaze. Wang Linlin was beside her and also glanced toward Jiang Sisi.

Wang Linlin: “Sister Leng Xiang, why were you staring at Director Jiang just now?”

Leng Xiang: “Nothing.”

Wang Linlin looked more closely: “Why do I feel like Director Jiang doesn’t seem too happy?”

Leng Xiang had naturally noticed as well.

Over these two months, she had paid too much attention to Jiang Sisi, to the point where she could now guess what every expression on Jiang Sisi’s face meant.

She wondered if it was because she had seen Ling Xiao, which reminded her of Xiao Yue, that Jiang Sisi was in low spirits?

With Li Guchuan wrapping and leaving the crew, the entire production’s filming was nearing its end.

The remaining work was just cleanup, like reshooting scenes that later seemed unsatisfactory, along with editing the film.

Jiang Sisi entered a grueling period of non-stop busyness. She had to oversee the editing team and control the full cut within a week—first assembling a few very rough test versions based on the master script, then discussing adjustments: reshooting missing shots where needed, tweaking as required. If something felt off, she’d have to call back actors who had already wrapped to refilm.

The assistant director handled the set, gradually filling in the scattered missing shots.

Jiang Sisi and the editing team had a dedicated “little black room.” Whenever a film reached this stage, they holed up in there cutting footage—eating and sleeping were the only breaks, never stepping out.

Inside the little black room, five or six computers lined up in a row. Each editor manned one, solemnly staring at piles of footage—dozens of hours of clips—that needed to be trimmed to two and a half hours within a week.

Even though these were just rough test cuts, the pressure was immense.

Jiang Sisi would watch the screen for a bit before habitually pulling out her phone to slack off. After all, she was the director and investor—no one in the little black room dared call her out even if they noticed.

Jiang Sisi opened WeChat, switched to her work account, and looked at Leng Xiang, pinned at the top. She wondered if she should chat with her a bit.

Leng Xiang had no idea she was the Black Pool Boss anyway.

Before she could decide what to say, a small red dot appeared behind Leng Xiang’s avatar, showing a “1”—and that number quickly climbed.

Leng Xiang had messaged her.

This was the first time in half a month that Leng Xiang had initiated a chat.

…

With Jiang Sisi handling editing, the assistant director organized the remaining actors to reshoot minor segments that week. Leng Xiang had little to do, so she spent her days poring over the script.

There was still one crucial scene for her in the master script that Jiang Sisi hadn’t approved.

Su Qing served as Jiang Chuan’s bridesmaid, argued with her midway through the wedding, and ran out—Jiang Chuan didn’t chase after her.

She burst out of the church, where the road outside suddenly turned into a wide, flat highway stretching straight ahead until it vanished at the horizon.

She had to keep running until Jiang Sisi called cut.

It was the scene that required her to get up at 4:30 a.m., sprinting into the morning mist toward the rising sun for two and a half hours nonstop—after which she collapsed to her knees.

They had shot it three times before the New Year and hadn’t touched it since.

This was also the only major plot point left that Jiang Sisi hadn’t greenlit for her.

Leng Xiang opened WeChat and scrolled down her recent contacts list.

Her finger paused on the Black Pool Boss.

The more she chatted with this Black Pool Boss, the more familiar—and oddly endearing—she felt.

All in all, it was an intriguing person.

Leng Xiang lay on her bed, tossed the script aside, and started typing.

Leng Xiang: What are you up to?

Leng Xiang: No particular reason, just bored.

Leng Xiang waited half a minute with no reply, then typed again.

Leng Xiang: You there? If not, whatever.

Leng Xiang: Guess I’ll get back to work then.

Jiang Sisi looked at her phone in the little black room and smiled.

She had been teasing Leng Xiang with this account for a while, always pushing her to the brink of anger before coaxing her back.

It just made her heart itch; when her mischievous side flared up, she acted on impulse.

Yet face-to-face with Leng Xiang herself, she didn’t dare flirt.

She was utterly cowardly.

Black Pool Boss: Nooo, I’m here.

Jiang Sisi made up a lie and typed back.

Black Pool Boss: Restocking the bar. What about you?

Leng Xiang: …

Leng Xiang: You, a boss, have to restock yourself?

Black Pool Boss: Yeah, small shop, short-staffed, slim margins—gotta handle a lot myself.

Leng Xiang: …

Leng Xiang: I’ll pretend I believe that nonsense.

Jiang Sisi chuckled again.

The chat showed “typing…” for ages, but Leng Xiang hadn’t sent anything. Jiang Sisi typed.

Black Pool Boss: What are you dithering over?

Leng Xiang: …

Want to punch someone. What to do?

Black Pool Boss: Hellooo?

Leng Xiang suddenly relaxed. This casual banter gave her an inexplicable urge—a desire to confide her troubles.

She suddenly wanted to vent.

The Black Pool Boss was punchable, sure, but after chatting for a while, they seemed decent—friend material.

Leng Xiang: I suddenly realized acting is so damn hard.

Jiang Sisi’s typing paused.

Black Pool Boss: It is tough. I know a few actors who drove themselves crazy with roles.

Black Pool Boss: But the pay’s good—millions per film, enough for a lifetime for most folks.

Leng Xiang: True.

Leng Xiang: I’m shooting a rom-com right now, but the core is tragic.

Jiang Sisi watched the “typing…” and waited patiently.

Finally, Leng Xiang sent a long message.

Leng Xiang: I play the female lead. She loves her best friend but can’t face it, so she runs away—dates others while pining, deluding herself, ignoring her feelings. Then the friend gets married, and she wakes up too late.

Jiang Sisi: “…”

Spot-on summary.

Leng Xiang: The lead suffers a lot. So do I while acting it.

Jiang Sisi started to type a reply but stopped, staring quietly at the screen.

Leng Xiang: I feel that pain firsthand. During takes, it feels like my heart’s being ripped out to show her—but I’m scared, hesitant, and pull back.

Leng Xiang: I’m acting so immersed I nearly fell for that best friend.

Jiang Sisi: “…”

Method acting leading to real feelings—she got it; plenty of industry couples started that way.

Got it my ass! Pei Shuang and Zhong Xin reconciled—you trying to wedge in?!

Leng Xiang: But the one I like is someone else.

Jiang Sisi had been gearing up to advise against meddling in others’ relationships, but this deflated her instantly.

Her heart pounded wildly, surging with emotion.

Leng Xiang: She used to be so annoying.

Leng Xiang: She once told me, to better embody the role, I should experience real love—fall for someone.

Leng Xiang: And I fell for her.

Leng Xiang: How ironic.

Leng Xiang: But I have no idea if she likes me back.

Leng Xiang: She’s great to me, but great to everyone. She’s loved someone else for years—I don’t even know if she still does, or if she likes me.

Leng Xiang: Still, I feel like she has some feelings for me.

Leng Xiang: Like the character, I’m tormented, wanting to run but can’t—I keep noticing her, anxious and insecure.

Leng Xiang: If this is what falling in love feels like, why is it so painful and troubling?

Leng Xiang: Even acting it out, is love this agonizing? It’s too much.

Jiang Sisi was speechless.

She stared at the barrage of messages, fingers trembling as she tried to respond—but they hovered over the keyboard, clueless.

In that short time, more messages came.

Leng Xiang: You gone?

Leng Xiang: Whatever, just venting. Don’t take it seriously—pretend you didn’t see.

Leng Xiang: You don’t even know who I am anyway.

Leng Xiang: Don’t tell anyone, okay? I trust you as a friend.

Leng Xiang: You really not there??

Jiang Sisi swallowed hard.

She typed with shaking fingers, struggling for coherent words.

After calming down for a while, she finally replied slowly.

Leng Xiang thought the Black Pool Boss was busy again and was about to put her phone away when it buzzed twice.

Black Pool Boss: I’m here.

Black Pool Boss: Maybe she just thinks she’s not good enough for you?

Black Pool Boss: You’re amazing.

Leng Xiang stared wide-eyed at her phone on the other end and smiled.

Leng Xiang: You don’t even know me and say I’m amazing?

Leng Xiang: Her, not good enough? Impossible—no one’s better.

Leng Xiang: Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am today.