Song Shi'an stared at the lighter in Ji Wang's hand for several seconds, flipping the cap back and forth, the flame leaping between his fingers, yet it didn't burn his hand at all.
He was puzzled, wondering how this thing worked. He'd have to find a tutorial to learn it later.
Ji Wang looked up and met his gaze. He paused for a moment, then closed the lighter and put it back in his pocket, clearing his throat. "Just kidding."
The director walked over and patted Ji Wang on the shoulder. "You two know each other, right? I really didn't expect you to be in this role, Ji Wang. I invited you so many times before, but you always turned it down."
Ji Wang glanced at the director, a smile playing on his lips, "Hurry up and repay the favor you owe me, so you won't bother me again."
The director waved his hand cheerfully. "Alright, alright, get ready, we'll start filming in a bit."
Song Shi'an nodded and smiled at the director, then moved two steps to the side and stood in the corner.
He had just stopped when he heard a low chuckle behind him. He turned around and glanced back. Ji Wang was looking at him. Song Shi'an turned back and muttered to himself, "What's so funny? What's so funny...?"
After the extras were in place, the director yelled "Get ready to start!" and the stagehand slammed the clapperboard shut.
Jiang Chi walked into the private room with his hands in his pockets, looking completely relaxed. On the sofa opposite him, Cen Li sat with his legs crossed, holding a wine glass. He sneered when he saw Jiang Chi enter, "So you're the one Vito sent?"
Jiang Chi ignored his sarcasm, walked straight over, plopped down on the opposite sofa, crossed his legs, leaned back, and raised his chin slightly. "Isn't one enough for me? Let's get to the point, how do you plan to divide the cargo at the port?"
Cen Li put down his wine glass and tapped his fingers twice on the table. "No rush. Are all the people in your group so impatient? Since we're going to cooperate, why not build rapport first?"
Jiang Chi's lips curved into a smile, "Okay, how would you like to contact me?"
Cen Li gestured with his chin toward the dice cup beside him. "Let's play a game, guess high or low. If you win, you get seven and I get three; if you lose, it naturally flips over."
Jiang Chi chuckled lightly, meeting Cen Li's eyes directly. " Brother Cen, aren't you overestimating me? I can't make that decision."
Cen Li took a cigarette from the pack and put it in his mouth. His henchman, who had sharp eyes, leaned over and lit it.
He took two puffs, smoke slowly escaping from the corners of his mouth. Looking through the thin layer of white smoke, he said, "Since Vito sent you, you have the right to do so."
Jiang Chi didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the fingers holding the cigarette, watching him take a drag and slowly exhale.
After a while, he suddenly laughed and leaned back on the sofa, "Alright, since Brother Cen has spoken, how can we disagree?"
Cen Li was satisfied with the reply, and immediately stubbed out the still-smoldering cigarette butt in his hand, grinding it against the palm of his henchman beside him. "Good, straightforward!"
The young man's palms were scalded red, but he gritted his teeth and didn't make a sound.
Cen Li glanced at him. "You didn't even offer Younger Brother Jiang a cigarette."
The younger brother, his hands trembling, pulled a cigarette from the pack and handed it to Jiang Chi. Jiang Chi took it, put it in his mouth, bent down, lit it, and took a small puff.
His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, then quickly relaxed.
Cen Li's gaze remained fixed on his face. " Younger Brother Jiang, you don't smoke? That's a rare sight among those of us in this line of work."
Jiang Chi took two more puffs as if nothing had happened, smoke escaping from between his lips. He flicked the ash off his cigarette and said lazily, " Brother Cen, you're joking. I'm just not used to the new brand. Let's continue."
He raised his eyelids to look at Cen Li, the smile in his eyes undiminished, but the curve of his lips clearly carried a hint of farewell.
The air in the entire private room was tense and silent, as if lit by that cigarette. Even the henchmen standing nearby held their breath and didn't dare to move.
Cen Li stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly smiled and gestured with his chin toward the dice cup, "Let's begin."
The director yelled "Cut!"
Song Shi'an immediately started coughing. The fake cigarette had menthol added to it, and one puff sent a chill straight to the top of his head. He coughed until tears welled up in his eyes, and he bent over, supporting his knees, for a while to catch his breath.
Ji Wang handed over a glass of water, which Song Shi'an took and gulped down. Good heavens, it was refreshingly cool and invigorating.
He looked up and glared at Ji Wang, his expression clearly saying, "Are you doing this on purpose?"
Ji Wang didn't say anything after being glared at, and just sat on the sofa waiting for the makeup artist to touch up his makeup.
It took Song Shi'an a while to catch his breath. When he turned his head, he saw the makeup artist squatting next to Ji Wang, touching up the tattoo on his chest.
He leaned closer for a look; the tattoo stretched from his collarbone to his neckline and was actually quite realistic.
"Is this tattoo fake?"
Ji Wang looked down at his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Who would get a Mickey Mouse tattoo on their chest for no reason?"
The makeup artist couldn't help but laugh out loud, "I'm so sorry, Teacher Ji, I brought the wrong temporary tattoos this morning. They're barely noticeable since they're half-covered."
Song Shi'an froze for a moment, then suddenly lowered his head, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.
He said that the pattern looked weird when he looked at it this morning, and it didn't look like a dragon's tail, hahaha!
Ji Wang sat there, his face darkening.
The director walked over and watched the monitor playback, then clapped his hands in satisfaction. "Not bad, Ji Wang. You've never acted before, yet you got it right in one take. Later, when you roll the dice, control what number Xiao An rolls; just make sure it's lower than his."
Song Shi'an looked up when he heard this. What did they mean? Could dice be controlled?
Ji Wang glanced at Song Shi'an: "Okay, I'll give in to him."
The director nodded with satisfaction, sensing that the boxing champion was unusually cooperative today.
But when these words reached Song Shi'an's ears, they took on a different meaning. What did he mean by "giving in to him"? Did Ji Wang dislike him...?
When filming officially started, Ji Wang originally wanted to show off his skills, but when he saw Song Shi'an roll three sixes, he was silent for a moment, then casually shook the box twice and lifted it up to see two, three, and five.
Song Shi'an looked down and saw the three sixes in his bowl. He was overjoyed. He was having such good luck today. He would definitely buy a lottery ticket after work.
The director called it a wrap.
Song Shi'an stood up to remove her makeup and change clothes, but the director stopped her. " Ji Wang's scenes are finished for today. Join us for dinner tonight; the investors will be there too. Tomorrow is also your last day of filming."
Song Shi'an hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement.
After removing his makeup and changing back into his own clothes, he took Lin Fan to the hotel by car.
Upon entering the private room, I saw that most of the tables were filled with unfamiliar people. Several middle-aged men in suits were clinking glasses at the head of the table, while a woman with exquisite makeup sat next to her, holding a wine glass and listening to the conversation of the people around her.
As soon as Song Shi'an entered the room, he felt several gazes fall upon him. He smiled politely at everyone.
Turning around, I saw an empty seat next to He Zeyu and quickly sat down.
After seeing him sit down, Lin Fan went to sit down at the assistant's table next door.
The dinner party started with the investors boasting, talking about industry development and future plans, capital operations and market prospects. Song Shi'an was getting sleepy listening to them, so he simply buried his head in his food.