Chapter 4: The Film Empress Who Jumped Off a Building to Commit Suicide (4)

The kiss skimmed across like a dragonfly touching water.

Bai Qian pulled her lips away.

She had no intention of going any further. Putting a stop to the Female Protagonist’s misguided advances from the night before was enough. This was merely a warning.

—Don’t seduce me again.

The young woman’s face flushed bright red from her actions, blind to the implication. Instead, she stubbornly repeated the question she’d already asked twice.

“You really don’t like me? If you don’t, then why did you kiss me?”

Bai Qian rose calmly. “We’ve done far more intimate things than that. Are you seriously hung up on this?”

“Scumbag woman! You claim to have so little experience, but you can spout lines that scummy? Scumbag woman!”

“I’ve taken care of what needed handling. I have things to do, so I’m leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere! You haven’t finished massaging me!”

Seeing her really about to leave, Shao Zizhi panicked. She sprang up from the bed and dashed in front of her, throwing her arms wide to block her path.

But she’d forgotten her body’s condition. The moment she spread her arms, her legs buckled, and she pitched forward stiffly.

Bai Qian caught her once more, scooped her up by the knees, and tucked her back under the covers. In a grave tone, she said, “You have my number. I won’t block you. If something really comes up later, call me. But right now, I do have business to attend to. Be good—sit tight, rest up, and go home when you’re ready. Understand?”

Under the weight of those deep, ink-black eyes, Shao Zizhi’s petulant expression crumbled bit by bit. At last, she nodded with a pitiful pout. “Then you absolutely can’t block me. If I find out you did, I’ll show up at your place and harass you!”

Bai Qian pressed the elevator button and pulled out her phone to message the female director.

A reply came almost immediately.

She let out a breath of relief. Good—this gig was still on.

Tomorrow’s shoot was in Shao District. Bai Qian opened an app and searched nearby hotels, scrolling through page after page until she found one just 1.6 kilometers away—a single room for only ninety-eight yuan a night.

The reviews averaged a little over three stars, but for her current situation, it was the best value around.

Lunch had been covered by that half bowl of wonton soup. For dinner, a pack of instant noodles would do.

When you’re broke, you tighten your belt, hustle for more income, and cut every expense.

~~~

The work as an extra wasn’t difficult.

They called them extras, but it was really just two dozen women of roughly the same age serving as background filler.

The fresh drama school graduate standing next to Bai Qian had a clean, unassuming sort of prettiness—the kind that would stand out among ordinary people.

Unfortunately, this was the entertainment industry, where beauties were a dime a dozen. She came off a bit plain by comparison.

Bai Qian hadn’t paid her much attention at first. That changed when someone behind them started fidgeting and muttering under their breath—something about the female lead’s terrible acting forcing them to stand around longer.

Once one person spoke up, the grumbles spread. The dissatisfied ones piled on, hurling low curses at the oblivious female lead.

Bai Qian listened quietly for a while. Everyone around her was chiming in—except for the girl to her right, who stayed silent just like her.

She couldn’t help turning to glance over.

The girl stood ramrod straight, like a sturdy pine.

The sun beat down mercilessly, sweat pouring from everyone’s foreheads. Unlike the others, she didn’t get agitated. When she lifted a hand to wipe it away, her calm expression didn’t waver, and she held her posture perfectly.

Impressive.

Bai Qian praised her silently in her mind. Her gaze lingered, meeting the girl’s eyes just as she turned.

The girl blinked in surprise, then curved her lips in a smile.

That smile made Bai Qian rethink her first impression.

—This girl has a certain charm when she smiles.

What should have been a twenty-minute scene dragged on for several times as long because the female lead just couldn’t get into character. By the time Bai Qian felt like she might not last much longer, the director finally called a grudging “Cut.”

“Everyone, you did great this morning. Lunch is here—grab some rest. We’ve got another similar scene this afternoon, and once that’s wrapped, you all get paid and go.”

There was only one kind of boxed lunch: two veggie sides, one meat dish, and a palm-sized portion of rice. They also handed out bottles of iced red tea.

Bai Qian carried her lunch to a quiet corner and was nearly finished when someone approached.

It was the drama school grad.

She had no lunch—just a bottle of the chilled red tea.

Without so much as a hello or introduction, she jumped right in like old friends. “How come you didn’t curse out Zhao Tong like the others?”

Zhao Tong was the female lead—the one who’d bought her way onto set with zero acting chops.

Bai Qian turned the question back on her. “And why didn’t you?”

“I’ll get to it later.”

Bai Qian: ?

The girl winked at her. “Isn’t she the one who brought investment into the crew? I’m that investment, so if she doesn’t act well, I’ll have a word with her when we get home tonight.”

Bai Qian’s shocked expression clearly delighted the other girl, who grinned from ear to ear. Finally, still beaming, she asked, “How are you so gullible? I was just messing with you, and you actually believed me?”

“Yeah, I did.”

The girl shook her head and jabbed the straw into her drink box. “A sweet, innocent type like you won’t last long in this industry. Oh, right—I haven’t even asked. Which school do you go to? You look pretty young. What year are you in? Sophomore?”

Bai Qian smiled. “I’m twenty-eight.”

“Cough, cough, cough!” The girl promptly sprayed the drink she’d just sipped right out of her mouth.

Once she recovered, she gasped in astonishment. “You’re messing with me, right?”

The woman rose to her feet and patted the girl’s shoulder. “You tricked me first, so now we’re even. To tell you the truth, I’m actually eighteen.”

Bai Qian was grateful she didn’t have the habit of napping after lunch. Otherwise, right after eating, she’d have been too drowsy to keep working.

The afternoon scenes were far easier than those in the morning.

The female lead must have received some pointers from someone, because her stiff expressions were much more fluid now.

Bai Qian found herself idly watching the woman from afar as she ran lines with the male lead. The actress had striking, seductive features and a fantastic figure.

Then Bai Qian’s gaze sharpened. She could see it clearly: on those lipstick-smeared lips, a small chunk was missing from the corner—bitten right off. The mark was faint, and with the sunlight beaming down directly, it was barely noticeable.

She couldn’t help twisting her head to glance at the recent grad. The girl’s eyes were locked unwaveringly on the female lead. Unless Bai Qian was seeing things, there was definitely a patch of mismatched lipstick color right at the corner of the girl’s mouth.

Bai Qian quietly looked away, pretending she hadn’t noticed a thing.

The scene wrapped just past two o’clock, still too early for the afternoon boxed meals to arrive. So the cash distributor went around asking everyone, “Want to stick around for dinner? If not, here’s fifteen yuan for your evening meal.”

Bai Qian pocketed the cash and headed out. A meal at Sha County wouldn’t cost more than ten yuan, leaving her a few bucks to spare—and it tasted way better than the crew’s boxed lunches.

With these two hundred yuan, she could extend her hotel stay for another night. But that wasn’t a long-term solution. Renting an apartment would be far more practical.

The original host’s profession was acting, so if Bai Qian wanted to make money, that was the path she had to take. It was one of the rules Guardians had to follow after stepping into their assigned roles.

Bai Qian stood at the roadside, at a loss for where to go next. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her WeChat contacts.

The manager wasn’t reliable, so she’d have to find gigs on her own.

“Beep beep—”

A blaring horn startled her, and she nearly fumbled her phone.

She shot an embarrassed glance at the culprit—and locked eyes with a pair sparkling with amusement.

Shao Zizhi was truly delighted. She’d been one-upped by Bai Qian plenty of times before, but now she’d finally flustered her in return. She couldn’t have been more smug.

Her voice rang out brightly. “Bai Qian! What are you doing here?”

“You?”

Unlike with the recent grad, Bai Qian lobbed the question right back without missing a beat. “I asked you first—you answer!”

“Just finished work. You?”

Shao Zizhi frowned in confusion. “Filming around here? The only crew nearby that I know of is for Legend of the Great Liang Smoke Concubine. Are you in it? I didn’t see your name on the cast list.”

Bai Qian asked offhandedly, “You seem to know the cast pretty well. Don’t tell me your family invested in it?”

Legend of the Great Liang Smoke Concubine hadn’t appeared in the original plot, so she hadn’t bothered learning the details.

Shao Zizhi didn’t hold back. “My uncle’s daughter insisted on throwing money at it. She wanted me to do a cameo, so I took a quick peek at the cast list.”

“But you passed.”

The woman flashed a curved smile. “Yeah. The role was too much like the ‘Tong Minglan’ character I played before. You might not know this, but I only take on roles that feel fresh and different.”

As soon as acting came up, Shao Zizhi’s whole demeanor shifted.

If she’d seemed like a pampered house cat before, now she was a lion charging across the savanna under the blazing sun.

Driven. Ambitious. Radiant.

Bai Qian thought, This was who she was meant to be.

This was Shao Zizhi.

“You still haven’t told me—what part did you play?”

“A palace maid. I’m just an extra.”

“An extra!” Shao Zizhi yelped in excitement, her hand slamming down on the steering wheel. The horn blared again, jarring their ears.

Meeting the woman’s furious gaze, Shao Zizhi smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to—it was just that I was so shocked! How could you go do extra work like that!”

Bai Qian shot back, “Why not? Most stars ran dragon sets or did crowd scenes before they hit it big. What, you discriminating against the job?”

Shao Zizhi shook her head frantically. “No, no! I have nothing but respect for those actors. It’s just… you don’t strike me as the type who’d do extras.”

“Give me a reason.”

She paused to think, her eyes lighting up with a rare spark of sincerity. “There’s this glow about you. You’re like a natural-born lead—like the protagonist from the start.”

Bai Qian fell silent for a moment, then laughed and swore under her breath. “Shao Zizhi, you got some kind of illness? We’re having a real conversation here, and you hit me with that out of nowhere. Now I don’t even know how to keep going.”

Shao Zizhi unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned halfway across the console to the passenger side, reaching over to pop open the door for her.

“Get in. If you don’t know what to say, just say whatever pops into your head.”

Without thinking, Bai Qian blurted, “Shao Zizhi… don’t tell me you actually like me?”

The little princess didn’t snap at her for being crazy. Instead, she considered it thoughtfully before breaking into a grin. “I don’t know. I just feel really comfortable hanging out with you. I don’t want to jinx the future or anything, but right now? Yeah, you’re a friend.”

“We only started talking yesterday. When did we become friends?”

The Little Princess bristled in an instant, slipping right back into her spoiled princess mode. “If I say you’re my friend, you’re my friend—no choice! There are more people begging to be my friend than I can count. It’s your lucky break, and you have the nerve to turn it down?”

Bai Qian changed the subject. “Where are you taking me?”

“Home.”

“?”

Shao Zizhi huffed. “Who bolts in the middle of a massage when I’m just starting to enjoy it? So I’ve decided—I’m locking you up at my place until you’ve massaged me to my heart’s content. Then maybe I’ll let you go!”

“You serious?”

“I never lie! If I say I’m locking you up, I’m locking you up!”

“First, swing by that hotel—the one from my location ping. I told the boss I might extend, and my stuff’s still there.”

The car let out a piercing screech as Shao Zizhi slammed on the brakes. Thrown forward by the sudden stop, Bai Qian’s face darkened. “Don’t tell me you’re driving without a license?”

“I’ve aced every test on the first try, okay? Why are you crashing at a hotel? Didn’t you rent Room X0X in XX Neighborhood, XX Building?”

“…We’re in a lawful society now. That kind of stalker behavior is straight-up terrifying. You get that, right?”

Shao Zizhi put on her most aggrieved pout. “It’s all because you ditched me halfway through without finishing the job! To track you down, I had to send people digging. I figured if you ghosted my calls, I’d just show up at your door. Fine, hunting down your address was over the line—but if you trace it back, you’re partly to blame too!”

Bai Qian said, “Starting now, we both forget last night ever happened. Deal?”

“Deal! So you’re doing extras ’cause you’re broke?”

“Yep. Right turn up ahead.”

“Looks like I’ll have to take you in, then.”

“?”

“You did me a solid once, and I believe in paying back favors. Crash with me for now. Once you’re on your feet, you can bounce. I’ve got cash to burn—keeping one more freeloader around won’t break me.”

Bai Qian, the freeloader in question: “…”

The Little Princess—who’d never once used her own money to support a layabout—bristled again. “You unwilling? I won’t make you lift a finger, and you’re still saying no!”

Bai Qian shot back at once, “I’m no idiot. Sure, I never ate soft rice before, but that’s fine—I can learn.”