The next morning, a three-wheeled motorcycle sputtered into the villa area. The deliveryman stopped at the gate and shouted to the security booth, "Uncle, where's number seven?"
The middle-aged man poked his head out. "Number seven, right? Go straight in and it's the second to last building."
The deliveryman drove in, and on both sides were detached villas with gardens, the lawns were neatly trimmed, and the cars parked in front of them were more expensive than the ones in the cars.
As he marveled at the environment, he mentally calculated how many years he would have to work to afford a toilet here.
When they arrived at courtyard number seven, they rang the doorbell. Song Shi'an was fast asleep and only remembered that he had made an appointment to pick up a package when he heard the doorbell.
I slipped on my pajamas, grabbed a mask and put it on my face, yawning as I opened the door.
The deliveryman got out of his car and said, "Hello, did you schedule a pickup this morning? Could you please provide the pickup code?"
Song Shi'an glanced at the three-wheeled vehicle outside. "Didn't your company send a car?"
The deliveryman patted the truck bed. "That's it! Even a large refrigerator can fit in, don't worry!"
Song Shi'an scratched his head a little embarrassedly. "They're extra-large items, there are many of them, this one is too small, come with me."
The deliveryman followed him curiously, feeling that he had seen the man's figure and eyes somewhere before, but he couldn't quite place him because of the mask on.
Song Shi'an walked to the garage door, swiped it open, and saw fifteen mint green electric scooters neatly lined up in three rows.
The deliveryman was completely baffled. Shouldn't a villa area be filled with Porsches and Ferrari? What was with this garage full of electric scooters?!
He silently pulled out his phone. "Hello, headquarters? Send a semi-trailer." He then peeked into the garage and added, "And two more movers."
A moment later, the security guard watched as a semi-trailer truck rumbled in, and the driver's window rolled down. "Hello, reservation for Villa No. 7."
The uncle opened the gate and shook his head. Yesterday, more than a dozen electric scooters were brought in, and today they brought in a semi-trailer. What on earth are these young people on the 7th doing?
After everything was packed, the deliveryman wiped his sweat and said, "The total delivery fee is 7,500 yuan. You can pay directly through the system. Have a nice day!"
Song Shi'an smiled and waved to see them off, then turned around and painfully paid the bill, saying, "How come it's gone in a second? I forgot to set the shipping fee."
He then spent the next few days engrossed in his classes at school.
My phone vibrated right after class ended in the afternoon. A text message from an unknown number popped up. "Hello Song Shi'an, this is Li Xiang, the principal of Ninghe No. 2 High School. We are delighted to hear of your outstanding achievements in the performing arts. The teachers and students of our alma mater are very proud. On the occasion of the 40th anniversary of the school's founding, we sincerely invite you to return to the school to participate in the celebration activities. We would be honored if you could accept our invitation."
Song Shi'an stared at the text message for a long time. Ninghe No. 2 High School seemed to be the original owner's high school. Back then, the school even awarded 20,000 yuan to the students who passed the college entrance examination.
He glanced at the date; the school anniversary was during the busiest time of filming for " Blood-Colored Fog," so he definitely couldn't attend. He took a screenshot of the text message and sent it to Ji Shuyao.
Ji Shuyao replied quickly, "For the old schools, recording an anniversary video was enough. Even if you couldn't be there in person, your heart was there, and that was better than anything else."
Song Shi'an replied with an OK emoji, and just as he was about to go out to eat with his roommates Ji Shuyao called again.
"Hey, Brother Yao?"
From Ji Shuyao's end came the sound of rapid typing, " Changting wants to buy the exclusive broadcasting rights to your violin playing by the sea."
Song Shi'an was stunned for a moment. "What? Are you serious?"
Ji Shuyao's tone was very calm. "Seriously, their boss mentioned it to President Shen a few days ago during dinner. We can record it after you finish filming this movie, there's no rush."
Song Shi'an breathed a sigh of relief, hung up the phone, and went to eat hot pot with his roommates.
After hanging up the phone, Ji Shuyao snorted coldly. Poach his people? Dream on.
He zoomed in on the screenshot of Song Shi'an's agent for a year, this kid would throw out a bombshell every now and then.
Ji Shuyao touched his heart; it was alright, he could hold on for a few more years.
Song Shi'an was having a blast for only a few days when the production team notified him.
As soon as he got in the car, he saw that Lin Fan had big dark circles under his eyes. He had only had a seven-day holiday, so why was he more tired than him? What had he been doing? Had he spent the whole week with his girlfriend?
Lin Fan turned his head and saw his brother staring at him with shining eyes. He subconsciously touched his face and asked, "Brother, is there something on my face?"
Song Shi'an shook his head and smiled meaningfully, "It's nothing, it's nothing~"
Lin Fan felt a chill run down his spine under his brother's gaze and tried hard to recall what he had been doing recently.
He clearly deleted all those comments, surely there must be some left over...
He arrived at the film set with a heavy heart, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he saw his brother running off to get his makeup done without any problems. He then eagerly followed him.
Song Shi'an jumped in fright as soon as he pushed open the door to the dressing room.
A burly man walked out, his collar undone, revealing a seamst of tattoos. He looked like he could take on two men with one punch.
Ji Wang looked down at him and clicked his tongue. "You'll be my scene partner later?"
Song Shi'an nodded, then quickly shook his head. Where did this crew find people? They look more like mob bosses than actual mob leaders themselves...
Ji Wang walked towards the door with one hand in his pocket. "Go inside and get your makeup done first, see you later."
Song Shi'an nodded to him and quickly darted into the dressing room.
The makeup artist pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit down and get his hair done. Just then, Lin Fan ran in and asked in a low voice, "Brother, what were you talking about with Teacher Ji?"
" Teacher Ji?" Song Shi'an turned to look at him. "What kind of acting does he do?"
" Teacher Ji is not an actor."
"Then what's he here for? Martial arts instructor?"
"Brother," Lin Fan said, handing him the water glass with a wry smile, "He's the WBC world boxing champion, you wouldn't know if you didn't watch boxing matches."
Song Shi'an's hand trembled, and he almost spilled the water.
World boxing champion? Making a cameo appearance? Playing Cen Li, the leader of a rival gang?
He recalled the confrontation scene in the script, and thought, well, it actually suited him quite well...
After the makeup was finished, the stylist came over with a set of clothes. "Teacher Song, these are the costumes for today's scene."
Song Shi'an took it and unfolded it to take a look. It was a pair of jeans with holes on the left and right, and the knees were almost showing.
He wore a loose-fitting black T-shirt with a faded denim jacket over it.
He looked at himself in the mirror; the hole in his knee was letting in a draft, and it felt cool.
The filming took place in an abandoned bar in the old town. The bar had been renovated, with dim lighting, old posters covering the walls, and distressed tables and chairs, giving it a vintage feel.
Song Shi'an went to the film set to rehearse his lines with several extras he was about to act opposite.
Since playing the role of Jiang Chi, he has been switching back and forth between hitting and being hit every day. Today's scene is about two major gangs discussing cooperation, testing and pulling each other, with politeness on the surface but swords clashing underneath.
The prop master brought over a pack of cigarettes. "Teacher Song, these are for later use. They're not real cigarettes, so feel free to smoke them."
Song Shi'an took it, opened it, and looked at it. The cigarette was quite realistic, and it didn't smell like much; it was probably the kind used for props.
He was looking down at the box of counterfeit cigarettes when a click came from beside him—the sound of a lighter being turned on.
Song Shi'an turned his head. Ji Wang was leaning against the wall, holding a metal flip lighter in his hand. The flame flickered between his fingers and spun around twice towards him.
"Do you smoke?" Ji Wang looked at him with a smirk, a hint of playful roguishness creeping into his otherwise fierce face.