Going Home

Zou Yan had a much harder time of it. He had thrown up terribly the night before and still had a headache when he woke up. He dragged himself out of bed in the afternoon, only to get a call summoning him to the company for a script discussion.

During a break in the meeting, he went out for a smoke to clear his head. Xie Yibai's smile and voice from the dinner table crept into his mind, leaving him restless with longing. He couldn't resist wanting to send him a message, but the unfamiliar chat history scared him off.

He rushed back into the meeting room and called out, "Sheng Ke! Come out-we need to talk in private."

Sheng Ke had been chatting with the screenwriter. Thinking something urgent had come up, he broke off the conversation and came out, only for Zou Yan to grab him by the collar and drag him aside.

Zou Yan shoved the screen in his face and demanded, "Last night, did you mess with my phone?"

Sheng Ke glanced sideways at the phone screen, then looked at him and clarified, "I didn't touch it. You were drunk last night. I told you not to go around bothering people, but you wouldn't listen."

His childhood friend had a good-looking face that gave him an advantage: small enough to fit in a palm, with closely set features and sharply defined lines. His bright, lively eyes had fan-shaped double eyelids that softened the sternness of his thick brows. He looked refined and upright, but in fact he was deeply calculating.

Zou Yan was half inclined to doubt Sheng Ke, but he had a history of sending random messages on WeChat when he drank too much. So rather than trusting Sheng Ke, it was more that he didn't trust himself.

"Really? I sent that?"

"Yeah. That's what happens when lust clouds your judgment."

Zou Yan held his forehead, feeling as if the sky had fallen. "Why didn't you stop me?"

"I didn't notice what you sent," Sheng Ke said. "But now that I've seen it, I wish your web drama a huge success."

Zou Yan pointed at his own nose. "Me? Haha! A web drama? Not even a dog would make one!"

Sheng Ke asked, "Then how are you going to explain it to him? Say you sent it by mistake?"

Zou Yan took a deep breath, slung an arm around his best friend and leaned in. "To tell you the truth, I... fell in love with him at first sight. I really want to win him over. Got any ideas for your buddy? Help me out?"

Sheng Ke said, "You want to get yourself a boyfriend by using my film to do him a favor? What are you thinking?"

"What are you talking about? There are so many roles in your film. What's wrong with sparing one? I've worked for you all these years, and you can't even do me this favor?" Zou Yan pleaded and pressed him at once. "I'm begging you, great director. I'll call you Dad."

"I could never have a son as unreliable as you," Sheng Ke said firmly. "As long as I'm alive, nobody gets to interfere with the casting of my films. Otherwise, fire me and find yourself another director."

Zou Yan beat his chest and stamped his feet in anger. "Is your heart made of stone? This is a major event in my life!"

Sheng Ke said, "It's not that I'm heartless. You're the one without a brain. Didn't he tell you? He wants to act in a web drama. Ever heard the phrase 'cut your coat to fit'?"

Zou Yan reconsidered. That made sense. "You're right. I've got to give him what he wants."

Seeing how seriously he was thinking it over, Sheng Ke asked, "You've only met him twice. Is it really that serious?"

"He's different from other people," Zou Yan said. "He's not the kind of snob who curries favor with the powerful and daydreams all day. He knows exactly what he wants. Last night, I asked him to come make the rounds with me, and he turned me down. Afterward, he even told me he only wanted to act in web dramas. That shows he's not after the resources I have at all."

Sheng Ke was nearly overcome with laughter, but he had to keep a straight face. "Then what do you think he's after, meeting you in private and eating and drinking with you?"

"Nothing. He just wants to make friends!" Zou Yan said confidently. "I do have a very charming personality."

"I won't deny that," Sheng Ke said with restraint. "But you're done for."

Zou Yan looked baffled, and in response, Sheng Ke patted him on the shoulder as if encouraging him and said again, "You're done for."

Xie Yibai was vacationing on an island, posting to his Moments once or twice a day. He and Xing Zhanyun had parted on bad terms that day, but Xing Zhanyun still liked his posts whenever they appeared in his feed.

He had carefully planned these days off and told his manager in advance not to schedule any appearances or engagements that week. All work was to be postponed. He had originally been due to leave after waking up yesterday, but the unexpected audition and the dinner afterward had delayed him a day. The remaining six days were precious, and he had sworn not to answer calls or do any promotional work, only to enjoy a vacation by himself.

But in the years since he had entered the industry, his acting career had all but swallowed up Xie Yibai's private life. He hadn't brought an assistant or bodyguard on this trip and was afraid tourists would recognize him, leaving him unable to escape the crowds and their cameras. So he rarely left the hotel during the day, merely looking out at the sea from his room or sunbathing by the pool. It was essentially lying flat in a different place.

A lot of entertainers played games to pass the time, and he did too, but he was terrible at them. They brought him more frustration than pleasure, and he usually quit after losing a couple of rounds.

People's thoughts tended to wander when they were bored. Xie Yibai lay on his bed, gazing at the ceiling. The bright coastal sunlight fell into his eyes and stung, while the words "No need. You're fifteen minutes late. There's no time today, so that's it. Thank you" haunted his mind.

He admitted he was hurt.

With his outstanding looks and abilities that were nothing to scoff at, Xie Yibai had attracted widespread attention the first time he appeared on camera. His parents had turned down several agencies for the sake of his studies. Later, he got into a music conservatory, and as soon as the campus drama in which he played a supporting role aired, investors eager to sign him had raced to his school to snap him up. He rejected all manner of tempting offers and chose Dusk Star Entertainment, the strongest of them all.

Roles had always come looking for him. When had he ever had to worry about auditioning?

Being shut out for the first time had stung so badly that he would never forget it.

He couldn't help doubting himself. Had his acting really been that bad? So bad that they wouldn't even show him the character description or the lines, and didn't want to waste time watching him perform?

But Xie Yibai had weathered plenty of storms when he shot to fame overnight and had long since developed a tough heart. After stewing over it for a while, he decided to do something to put the unpleasant experience behind him.

He put on one of Sheng Ke's films, planning to curse at it as he watched and enjoy venting his tongue.

But he apparently wasn't the kind of person who could ignore the facts and blindly vent his emotions. Watching it again, he still loved Sheng Ke's visual language and storytelling techniques. The editing flowed effortlessly and was beyond reproach. Those images were good, even beautiful-why had such extraordinary talent fallen to an arrogant bastard?

Xie Yibai sighed in admiration even as he brooded.

Heh. There are plenty of good directors in the world. Surely one of them will have the discerning eye to appreciate me. Sooner or later, I'll star in a film better than this one.

As the saying went, nothing was impossible to a determined person. He, Xie Yibai, was going to make this career transition!

Whether heaven had heard his cry and been moved by his determination, or whether it had all been arranged by unseen forces, one quiet evening Zou Yan was holding a video conference in his study at home, listening to reports from each department on the post-production progress of a new project. His work was varied and demanding, and it was common for him to juggle several projects at once. But that day, his attention wandered, and a script lying on his desk piqued his curiosity.

Perhaps he had received it at some social engagement, or perhaps someone had recommended it. He couldn't remember. He just found the title on the cover, "Binding Knife," very appealing.

Zou Yan opened it to the first page. After reading just three lines, he reached out and turned down the volume on his computer. The cold light from the screen illuminated his face, and his lowered eyes were full of concentration and amusement.

It was this small, incidental act that set Xie Yibai on the path to his career transition.

Without any deliberate pursuit or painstakingly constructed conditions, a good story seemingly tailored for him had appeared just like that. It was what people called fate.

Chapter 6: Going Home

A binding knife was a tool used in making qipaos, for precisely cutting the curved strips of fabric that bound the edges of the garment.

Named after it, the script told the story of a woman in 1930s Shanghai who inherited her family's tailoring skills and passed along intelligence by sewing qipaos for female customers, helping patriotic young people resist Japan before ultimately joining the revolutionary tide of history.

The script hadn't actually been submitted to Zou Yan. Everyone in the industry knew he and 404 Studio were closely tied, firmly committed to art films and partial to fresh, avant-garde scripts. A story with such a popular, mainstream central plot was not something he would have considered.

But his father, Zou Ruoqing, was a renowned commercial-film heavyweight. From critically acclaimed cinema classics to blockbuster hits, any genre film his father produced always won either awards or box office success. He had never failed.

Zou Yan looked up the screenwriter's name and found a few adaptations that had met with lukewarm success. This was an original script, and a story without an existing IP behind it was hard to sell. It all depended on connections and luck, so the screenwriter had probably sent it out on a whim, hoping for a lucky break.

The script showed so much potential that Zou Yan couldn't bear to ignore it. He contacted the screenwriter, intending to arrange a meeting first.

He also wanted to ask Xie Yibai out. To put it bluntly, that was his real goal.

But Xie Yibai said he was out of the country and couldn't meet him.

Zou Yan said, "Then let's meet when you get back."

Xie Yibai gave a noncommittal answer. "We'll see when the time comes."

It was true that he was abroad, but being unable to meet was only an excuse. He couldn't understand why Zou Yan was still contacting him. Was the exalted filmmaker going to descend from on high to make a web drama for a traffic star manufactured by investors? He really didn't think he was that charming.

He had reflected on what his manager had said. Sister Hu had made a good point: his popularity was soaring, and taking those niche films would burn through it for someone else's benefit. After all, his involvement would draw attention to a film. And what about him? Whether he won an award was not directly proportional to how hard he worked or how much effort he put in.

Who was the last mainland Chinese actor to win an acting award at an international A-list film festival? He had neither that actor's ability nor his luck with awards.

If it were a Sheng Ke film, he could take a minor role just to show his face. But as for those unknown new directors, the risks were high and the returns low. He wasn't yet so idealistic as to devote himself to art without seeking anything in return.

On the day Xie Yibai returned home from vacation, his parents picked him up at the airport. He was fully disguised in a mask, hat and sunglasses; no one but his own parents could have recognized him.