Chapter 40

《Luxury Goods》 used the actors’ original voices, and the studio fell silent.

Jiang Chuan sat in the living room watching TV. Their rented place was neither too big nor too small, and the two of them shared a makeup table placed right there in the living room. Su Qing sat in front of the makeup table, holding an eyebrow pencil as she drew her brows. As she drew, her thoughts drifted off somewhere, and her hand shook, smudging a stroke. Su Qing frowned at her face in the mirror.

Jiang Chuan had appeared behind her at some point, gazing at her face through the reflection.

Su Qing noticed her and looked back through the mirror, giving her a helpless smile.

Jiang Chuan took the eyebrow pencil from her hand, grabbed a bottle of makeup remover, poured some onto a cotton pad to dampen it, wiped off the smudged brow, and began redrawing it carefully.

Su Qing stayed still, her expression somewhat listless. From the mirror, she watched Jiang Chuan’s focused eyes and brows as she drew. She blinked, and her fan-like lashes brushed lightly past the side of Jiang Chuan’s thumb, like the softest feather kiss.

Su Qing said, “Do you think I’ve gotten so old in my mom’s eyes that I need to go on blind dates?”

Jiang Chuan replied gently, “If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”

Su Qing leaned back and stretched lazily, relaxing her brows. Jiang Chuan’s hand remained steady, unaffected no matter how Su Qing moved, as she meticulously painted her brows.

Su Qing said, “I really don’t want to go, but my mom insists I at least meet the guy. What difference does it make if I do? It’s not like I’m going to do what she wants—meet him today, bring him home by year’s end, get married next year, and have a kid the year after.”

Su Qing helplessly ruffled her hair and squinted at her. “Enough about me. Doesn’t your family nag you about marriage?”

Jiang Chuan’s hand paused for a moment before resuming. “Of course they do. Who knows, maybe I’ll find a boyfriend this year and get married next.”

Su Qing let out a wail. “What am I supposed to do if you get married? Who will I live with?”

Jiang Chuan said without mercy, “Who will you live with? Your future husband, of course. You don’t seriously think you can live with me forever, do you?”

Su Qing blinked at her coquettishly. “Living with those stinky men? I’d rather live with you forever.”

Jiang Chuan said, “In your dreams.”

Su Qing whipped her head around excitedly. “I’m serious—if this blind date flops, why don’t we just make do together? We’ve already made do for eight years; what’s a few more?”

Jiang Chuan patted her head. “No way. No man might want you, but I’ve got options.”

Su Qing wailed again. “You heartless woman! Tell me, who is this guy stealing you away? Who?!”

“No one. I was just teasing.” Jiang Chuan finished the final stroke on her brows, set down the pencil, and patted her shoulder. “There, all done. Stop messing around, or you’ll be late.”

At that moment, Jiang Sisi directed the camera right up to Leng Xiang and Pei Shuang’s faces. Pei Shuang applied the final touch to Leng Xiang’s makeup. Deliberately heightened lights bathed her face, plating it with a faint glow, as if she had shed her usual mask of detachment to reveal the softest inner layer.

Leng Xiang glanced sideways at Pei Shuang. Pei Shuang smiled gently and faintly, yet a trace of barely perceptible sadness flickered through.

Leng Xiang wondered why she looked sad.

Even though Leng Xiang knew the script had an emotional line between Su Qing and Jiang Chuan, she still couldn’t understand it.

She didn’t understand, and the Su Qing in the script didn’t understand either—but Su Qing wouldn’t care, so neither would she.

Su Qing finished up, admired her face in the mirror, and said, “Alright, I’m off. If the guy’s a total scumbag, I’ll call you—you have to come save me, got it!”

Jiang Chuan said helplessly, “Not every guy’s a disaster. Go on, have a nice chat with him, relax a bit, and stop being so fidgety all the time.”

Jiang Sisi watched the two through the camera lens, with the vice director standing behind her, marveling. “Old Jiang, your eye for talent is still spot on. Leng Xiang doesn’t look like she’s acting at all. Hasn’t she ever liked anyone before?”

Jiang Sisi said, “That’s her private business. Why are you prying?”

“Hey! You know something, don’t you? Come on! We’re all one crew—one big family. Spill it; what’s the harm? I could even introduce her to a boyfriend!”

The vice director smacked their lips and turned back to Jiang Sisi. “But seriously, this won’t work for her. We can shoot this part like this, but what about the later plot? How’s she going to handle it?”

Jiang Sisi said, “We’ll see when we get there. I believe in her.”

The vice director eyed Jiang Sisi. “I’ve never seen you this invested in other actresses before.”

Jiang Sisi glanced at Leng Xiang thoughtfully and smiled. “It’s not that big a deal. Haven’t I always been like this?”

Leng Xiang was interesting, sure, but work was work, and private matters were private—one thing at a time. She never slacked on the job, no matter who the female lead was.

With that, Jiang Sisi walked toward the set.

The vice director watched her back and muttered, “Yeah, right, I’m sure.”

They wrapped the scene, and Jiang Sisi called a pause. All the staff stopped and looked at her.

Jiang Sisi said, “You two, come here.”

Though the scene was simple, Jiang Sisi had them reshoot it five times, pulling Leng Xiang and Pei Shuang aside midway each time to tweak small details.

She even specified exactly how Leng Xiang should stand when rising, the angle of her sidelong glance at Pei Shuang, and how the light fell on her face. They switched camera positions multiple times. Leng Xiang touched up her makeup, with the young makeup artist furiously brushing powder on her face. They shot countless angles, all needing precise capture for later editing.

They broke for lunch midway, and by the time they finished the scene, it was nearly three in the afternoon.

The sky gradually darkened, looking like rain was imminent.

Jiang Sisi checked the script, flipping a couple pages. The next scene happened to be in the rain.

Su Qing finished her makeup, changed clothes, grabbed her bag, and rushed for the bus. She nearly missed her appointment time, couldn’t hail a cab in the downpour, chased the bus the whole way, and twisted her ankle in her high heels. That wasn’t all—wind had snatched her umbrella away. Carrying her shoes, she still couldn’t get a taxi. Desperate, a gap-toothed old man grinned at her, pointed to the motorcycle beside him, and offered her a ride, promising she’d make it on time. Su Qing boarded the black motorcycle half in doubt.

Leng Xiang wrapped her scene and even shot some promo photos. To keep up the pace, she wolfed down her boxed lunch. Jiang Sisi checked the script and asked if she could continue or needed a break. Leng Xiang shook her head—no problem.

Jiang Sisi’s demands were indeed high. The crew looked casual, but the intensity was real, and efficiency top-notch.

Seeing no issue, Jiang Sisi nodded and went to discuss with the lighting tech and slate operator.

Leng Xiang had just sat down for a sip of hot water when she was called back.

The area was all filming grounds, cleared out in advance. Outside the studio lay the road.

The prop bus arrived quickly. The driver leaned out the window and gave a cool nod to Leng Xiang at her mark.

It was Tan Ya behind the wheel.

Leng Xiang: “…”

Jiang Sisi appeared at her side out of nowhere, murmuring, “My assistant can do anything. Driving a bus? Piece of cake.”

The extras got into position. The old man doing black motorcycle business waited by a grimy bike from who-knows-where, grinning at her to reveal his yellow teeth.

Jiang Sisi held the script. “For this segment, start running from your mark and keep going till I say stop. Ignore everything else.”

Leng Xiang said, “Don’t I trip at the end?”

Jiang Sisi said, “Not this take. We’ll do plenty more—save it for later.”

Leng Xiang had no objections and slipped on the high heels.

Running in these things—what did Su Qing ever do to her?

A torrential downpour suddenly unleashed.

Jiang Sisi said, “Perfect, saves us artificial rain. This one’s gonna be tiring—let’s push to wrap quick.”

Extras walked the road. Leng Xiang opened her umbrella, high heels on. Cameras ready, Jiang Sisi signaled, and Leng Xiang started running forward.

At first, her heels splashed puddles onto her calves, but she kept running. Even as Tan Ya drove the bus far ahead, she showed no sign of stopping.

Jiang Sisi didn’t call cut, just watched from behind the camera.

Pei Shuang watched Leng Xiang run from the temporary shelter. Three cameras tracked her: one on a high rail sliding overhead, one from behind on her back, one from ahead. The rear two were handheld, operators jogging alongside, lenses shaking wildly.

The feed to Jiang Sisi shook just as badly. Rain poured; the lens fogged. In that instant, all passersby blurred into background, extras’ chatter recorded raw. Some stared at Leng Xiang in surprise, but she didn’t care—no one did. It was as if heaven and earth held only her.

Leng Xiang kept running, nonstop.

Her hair was a mess, makeup ruined, every careful touch-up from home destroyed—but she didn’t care.

Jiang Sisi watched Leng Xiang in the lens and murmured, “Perfect.”