By the time they were ready to start filming, the sky had gone completely dark, only a thin layer of pale moonlight overhead. The noisy crowd on set had been mostly cleared away, leaving only the relevant actors and a handful of crew members.
This was Maiya’s first time filming a TV drama; she was excited and wound up. Normally by this hour she’d have been tired and sleepy, but today she seemed to have boundless energy, running around the set. Every so often Qiao Qi could hear her giggling laughter.
Far happier than being with the sick children at the hospital, or the other children at the orphanage.
Probably because here, no one treated her as fragile.
No one deliberately pitied her, or coddled her.
In this small crew, she was just the same as everyone else.
In another world, living an entirely different, whole life.
Qiao Qi watched from a distance, an unmistakable, comforted smile hanging at the corners of her mouth.
Liang Yan watched alongside her, and after a good while, asked in an extremely relaxed tone, stretching out his legs and tilting his head, “She hasn’t had the surgery?”
Qiao Qi hummed softly in acknowledgment, shifting her gaze from Maiya running all over the set to Liang Yan’s eyes.
Though Liang Yan was usually quite carefree, when he turned serious, his eyes would open just slightly wider, letting one see his dark irises more clearly.
Qiao Qi’s gaze lingered on his eyes for a few seconds before flicking away. She pressed her lips together and, without concealing it, said, “Her condition isn’t good enough right now. It’s not safe to operate.”
Liang Yan frowned. “A serious surgery?”
Qiao Qi hummed softly again.
No further conversation.
Everything around them fell quiet in an instant.
The wind swept past her ear, a tingling numbness crossing the side of her face, spreading from her neck down to the hollow of her chest.
Qiao Qi felt inexplicably tense; she gripped her phone tighter without meaning to, suddenly wanting very much to chat with Li’ang.
She glanced quietly at Liang Yan beside her and found he’d also picked up his phone at some point, so Qiao Qi immediately, without any guilt, pulled out her own phone too.
She found Li’ang had replied twenty minutes earlier—she’d probably been in the middle of having her future married life planned out by Liang Yan and Maiya at the time.
Recalling those plans, Qiao Qi went silent for a few seconds before turning her attention to Li’ang’s message.
Liangou: ? Liangou: One disagreement and straight to a red exclamation mark. Liangou: Think carefully about what kind of kindergartner behavior that is. 7: Can’t think of it. Liangou: Come here. 7: ? Liangou: Come here, I’ll show you how to think about it. 7: ……? 7: Reported. @cyberpolice Liangou: Hahahahahaha. Liangou: But I’m serious. Liangou: I really do have a big treasure to show you. Liangou: A big treasure the officers won’t arrest me for showing you. 7: What?
The other party went quiet for a while. As Qiao Qi waited for the reply, she idly rubbed her phone screen back and forth, and her peripheral vision happened to catch Liang Yan beside her—she noticed he’d been staring fixedly at his phone screen this whole time.
In the dark corner, the glow of his phone screen lit his face clearly.
His eyes stayed curved in a pleased arc, different from his usual nonchalance—this curve seemed to hide a few traces of genuine seriousness.
Qiao Qi found herself turning to study him.
Perhaps her gaze was too focused; Liang Yan noticed and looked up to catch her studying look. “What?”
Qiao Qi shook her head.
Liang Yan paused, narrowed his eyes, the corner of his mouth curling up, and openly waved his phone. “You’ve got your Brother Lian, I’ve got my Seventh Princess—nothing to be curious about.”
Then, catching himself just as Qiao Qi’s expression flickered with surprise, he added quickly: “Not you, this Seventh Princess.”
Qiao Qi: “……I didn’t think it was me either.”
Liang Yan nodded indifferently, seemingly entirely unconcerned with her thoughts.
He turned his attention back to his phone, and Qiao Qi, feeling an inexplicable urge to compete, put her own attention back on her phone too.
That’s when she saw Li’ang had replied.
He’d sent her a picture.
The thumbnail looked like just a glass cup, nothing special.
Qiao Qi tapped to open the full image and look closely, and her eyes widened slightly at what she discovered.
Liangou: Surprised? Amazed? Liangou: Is this a big treasure or what!
Qiao Qi really was rather surprised.
She’d never expected Li’ang would have a glass signed by “Qiao Qi”—but… she didn’t remember ever signing a glass cup like that.
7: Where did you get this? Liangou: …… Liangou: That’s it? Liangou: That’s your reaction? 7: …… 7: No, I’m just asking. 7: A little curious.
She thought it over and said, quite carefully.
7: I also had a friend try to get one, but Qiao Qi is filming with the crew right now, isn’t she? Doesn’t the crew keep outsiders out? Liangou: My friend found it. Liangou: Don’t ask where from—just say a friend got it from a friend of a friend.
Qiao Qi: “……”
What a Russian nesting doll of an explanation.
But Qiao Qi was still curious; she zoomed in on the image and stared at the signature for a long while.
She was absolutely certain she’d never signed a glass cup, and yet the handwriting really did look like hers.
Unless… Li’ang had been scammed.
7: Did you… spend money on this? Liangou: Why? You going to transfer me money?
Qiao Qi: “……”
Yep, this man had definitely been scammed.
She sighed quietly to herself.
“What, fighting with your Brother Lian?” Qiao Qi hadn’t realized her sigh had been audible; Liang Yan, in a good mood himself, took some gleeful pleasure in someone else’s bad mood.
Qiao Qi shook her head. “No. I’m just lamenting how some people have more money than sense.”
Liang Yan: “……Isn’t that a good thing? Willing to spend money for you.”
Thinking it over, Qiao Qi found this did make sense, so she immediately sent Li’ang an oversized heart emoji.
7: Thank you thank you thank you!! 7: But don’t buy any more next time, please be a rational fan!
Thinking of fandom, Qiao Qi suddenly recalled that although Li’ang always verbally denied it, judging from every angle, he probably really did like Liang Yan quite a bit.
The other party had gone and gotten a “Qiao Qi” signature for her… well, though that signature was something she could produce herself with ease, it was still a gesture of thoughtfulness.
So should she… return the favor?
Qiao Qi quietly lifted her head and looked toward Liang Yan again.
Liang Yan noticed. “?”
Qiao Qi thought for a moment, just about to speak, when the makeup artist suddenly rushed over. “The director says we’re filming any minute now, quick quick quick, let me check your makeup.”
Interrupted like this, Qiao Qi felt too awkward to ask Liang Yan for a signature after all.
She sighed quietly to herself, thinking she’d just do it another time—they were working together all the time anyway, plenty of chances.
So she told Li’ang instead.
7: Tit for tat—in a few days I’ll show you a big treasure too. 7: Hehehe. Liangou: ? Liangou: Compared to my kind of big treasure, I’d much rather see the kind that gets you arrested by the cyberpolice. 7: …… Liangou: Come rain or come shine, I’ll be waiting for you at the police station. Liangou: [hehe.jpg] 7: ……886.
—
Qiao Qi was being held still by the makeup artist for a final touch-up check, with Zhou Suiyu standing about half a meter away.
Since tonight’s explosion scene was fairly heavy, requiring higher standards for props and studio equipment, the crew had spent considerable money on hardware.
To cut down on costs, this kind of equipment could only belong to one crew, so Qiao Qi and Zhou Suiyu found themselves filming with the same crew for the first time.
Though the two of them still had no scenes together today.
“Teacher Qiao must be so tired lately, the dark circles under your eyes are barely covered anymore.” The makeup artist sighed as she spoke, clearly regretting seeing such a lovely face look so haggard. She couldn’t help but suggest, “You should really catch up on sleep in your free time.”
Qiao Qi smiled and said, “What free time is there to catch up on sleep?”
She was both a newcomer and the lead, already at a disadvantage to begin with, and her workload was heavy on top of it. Running between three crews at once during busy stretches was common; forget catching up on sleep, just having time to eat properly was already a blessing.
“Then your skin condition is clearly on a downward trend.” The makeup artist looked genuinely regretful.
Qiao Qi smiled. “Can’t be helped.”
Zhou Suiyu, standing nearby, cut in at this point. “Actually, if you put a bit more effort into skincare it’d help. What eye cream and mask is Teacher Qiao using lately? Oh, I bought so much a while back—I’ll have my assistant send some over to you after we wrap tonight.”
Before Qiao Qi could even open her mouth to decline, Zhou Suiyu had already turned to look at Qiao Qi’s makeup artist. “You’re Xiaoyu, right? I noticed you’ve got some breakouts too—I’ll have my assistant send you some as well.”
Xiaoyu, flattered on one hand and thrilled at the chance to score high-end skincare products on the other, gushed with praise about how Zhou Suiyu was good-natured, pretty, and a fantastic actress. Zhou Suiyu, being praised like this, showed not the slightest embarrassment, instead laughing cheerfully. “Right?! I think I’m super amazing too!”
It seemed modesty wasn’t in fashion these days; the more graciously one accepted praise, the more endearing it seemed. Watching Zhou Suiyu handle it this way only improved everyone’s impression of her.
Only Qiao Qi beside her kept her gaze lowered, lashes drooping, veiling her usually clear eyes.
No one could tell what she was thinking.
“Where’s the Miss He family!” the director suddenly called out.
The people nearby teased good-naturedly, “Big Miss, hurry up and go flirt with the young master!”
Zhou Suiyu laughed and answered, “Coming, coming, this lady’s on her way!” Then she turned to Liang Yan, “Young Master Ming, shall we?”
Hearing the teasing, Liang Yan lazily rose from his chair. He took the suit jacket his assistant handed him and unhurriedly buttoned the middle button, then reached up to tousle his hair a couple times, revealing his sharply defined features.
Xiaoyu, who’d been watching nearby, frowned at this and called out “You menace,” then trotted over and combed through every strand of hair several times before instructing, “Don’t touch it again!”
Liang Yan clicked his tongue and glanced at her. “What’s the difference from if I mess it up myself? The script says Ming Yan mussed his own hair—there should be some imperfection to make it logical.”
Xiaoyu raised a comb and glared. “I’m the logic here!”
Liang Yan: “……”
Qiao Qi beside them couldn’t help a soft laugh; Liang Yan glanced over at the sound, and Qiao Qi looked away, pretending she’d heard nothing.
But young master Liang still felt he’d lost some face.
So he quietly lowered the hand that had been about to misbehave again, curved his lips into a smile, and leaned in slightly, offering his neck to Xiaoyu with those peach-blossom eyes smiling.
Xiaoyu, thrown off by this obviously flirtatious gesture, froze for a moment before a visible flush crept up from her neck to her face.
She stammered, “Wh-what are you doing?”
Liang Yan answered with perfect confidence, “Fixing the tie. This whole outfit belongs to Young Master Ming right now—it’s under your management.”
“I wouldn’t dare touch it carelessly.”
Under your management… under your… management…
Damn it!
This man was cheating!
Xiaoyu, weak-kneed from being flirted with, didn’t even dare look Liang Yan directly in the eye, her hands trembling as she finally tied the young master’s tie for him.
Not even a few seconds later, the young master reached up and undid it.
Xiaoyu: “?”
Liang Yan said, as if suddenly remembering, “Oh right, I just remembered—Young Master Ming isn’t wearing a tie in this scene.”
Then he strode off toward the shooting location, humming a little tune.
Xiaoyu: “……”
She turned to Qiao Qi with an aggrieved expression, complaining, “That man is such a dog!!”
Qiao Qi nodded in complete agreement.
Not just a dog—the dog among dogs, a fighting dog.
“But I still got flirted with by him!!” Xiaoyu said, heartbroken. “I have no self-respect!”
Qiao Qi nodded in agreement again.
Xiaoyu asked earnestly, “Teacher Qiao, be honest, do you feel anything doing scenes with Young Master Liang?”
Qiao Qi shook her head.
Xiaoyu didn’t believe it. “You denied that awfully fast, clearly just brushing me off.”
Qiao Qi paused, pretending to think seriously for a few seconds, then looked at Xiaoyu and shook her head. “No feelings.”
Xiaoyu: “……You didn’t have to take it that seriously.”
Qiao Qi smiled faintly. She actually knew some people on the crew shipped her with Liang Yan, but usually no one dared say anything directly to her face. Now that a shipper had practically danced right up in front of the real deal, she, being said real deal, naturally had to clarify. “There’s really nothing between us.”
Though Liang Yan really was excellent, she already had someone in her heart, so she wouldn’t spare him much thought.
“Sigh, alright.” Xiaoyu looked disappointed. “Then let me ask on behalf of my sisters—if, if it were possible, would you two end up together?”
This question was too easy to answer.
Qiao Qi smiled. “There’s no ‘if.'”
“Why not?” Xiaoyu was puzzled by her certainty.
Qiao Qi thought about it. “If the person I liked went around flirting with others so casually, either he’d hide it from me completely, or…” Qiao Qi smiled slightly, “I’d chop him up.”
Xiaoyu: “……Understood.”
What a damn honest answer.
Author’s Note: Qiao 7: However, he didn’t hide it from me—he flirted right in front of my face.
Qiao 7: So, guess I’ll just have to chop him up. (breezy and unbothered.jpg)
20 red envelopes!!