Chi Xun fell silent for even longer this time. After a good while, he placed a voice call outright. Song Shi'an answered, and Chi Xun's hushed roar came through the earpiece: "You actually went and became an actor? Awesome! And in The Emperor's Ambition?!"
"I got lucky," Song Shi'an said modestly.
"You call that luck?" Chi Xun's voice rose another pitch before he apparently remembered he couldn't be too loud in the dorm and forcibly lowered it again. "That's an S+ drama! Do you know how many people would fight tooth and nail to get in and still can't? What's your character called?"
"Meng Zhen."
"Meng Zhen..." Chi Xun repeated the name, then suddenly caught on. "Wait, I think I saw that character in the original novel. A crazy loyal dog, not much screen time, but a seriously compelling character concept. You're playing him?"
"Yeah."
Chi Xun drew a breath and said in an extremely serious tone, "Shi'an, once you're done filming, help me get Xu Yanzhi's autograph."
Song Shi'an froze for a moment before realizing he meant the male lead of The Emperor's Ambition.
Xu Yanzhi was a young actor currently riding high in the industry. He had shot to fame two years before even Xu Che, and his fanbase was frighteningly large.
"I'll try," Song Shi'an said, "assuming his fans don't beat me to death on set."
After Song Shi'an went back, he began packing.
He put the script in his backpack, then stuffed in two changes of clothes.
Early the next morning, he wheeled his suitcase to the school gate. The production's car was already waiting by the roadside.
It was a seven-seat minivan with The Emperor's Ambition's title logo on its side. A young woman wearing glasses sat in the front passenger seat. When she saw him approach, she rolled down the window and waved him over.
"Song Shi'an? I'm your on-set coordinator. Just call me Sister Li. Hop in."
Song Shi'an put his suitcase in the trunk, pulled open the door, and settled into the back seat.
The air-conditioning was blasting inside, and it was at least ten degrees cooler than outside. He sighed in comfort.
Sister Li turned around in the passenger seat and handed him a printed filming schedule. "Your scenes will all be shot within two weeks. Today is the costume and makeup fitting and the script read-through. Filming officially starts tomorrow. The call sheet lists the specific time and location for each scene. Take a look and see if you have any questions."
Song Shi'an took it and scanned it. He didn't have many scenes, but because he was a supporting character who served the plot, he had to work around the male and female leads' schedules, so his filming times were fairly spread out.
The first week mainly consisted of scenes opposite the male lead. His final death scene wouldn't be filmed until the second week.
When the car reached the entrance to the filming area, Song Shi'an pushed open the door. A production assistant was already waiting at the entrance. Upon seeing him, he jogged over and took the suitcase from his hand.
"Mr. Song Shi'an? This way, please. We'll get your makeup and styling done first. The director's already waiting."
Being addressed as "Mr." made Song Shi'an uncomfortable all over. He hurriedly said, "No need for Mr. Just call me Shi'an."
The production assistant was a young man in his early twenties. At that, he scratched his head and grinned. "Sure, Brother Shi'an. Follow me."
The makeup room was more than one level above the tent on his previous production.
It was a private room with air-conditioning. A strip of warm white lights framed the makeup mirror, and bottles and jars were arranged neatly on the table.
The makeup artist was a man in his thirties, with a little ponytail and a small tuft of beard on his chin. He had quite the air of an artist.
He circled Song Shi'an, then reached out and shifted his hair.
"What a great canvas," he marveled. "Your skin's in great condition, too. What skincare products do you normally use?"
"Water," Song Shi'an answered honestly.
The makeup artist's hand paused. He gave him a look laden with mixed feelings, then sighed. "Youth really does let you do whatever you want."
Meng Zhen's styling was far more complicated than Ying Qi's. Ying Qi was a guard; a black outfit and a mask were all it took.
Meng Zhen was the chief steward of the imperial palace, head of the eunuchs, and his clothing consisted of three layers from inside to out.
The innermost layer was a white inner robe, followed by a dark blue silk robe, with an inky-black yesa robe over that and a gold-trimmed leather belt cinched around his waist.
Once the whole outfit was on, Song Shi'an felt he weighed at least ten jin more.
The makeup artist worked quickly as he applied his makeup, but unlike the woman on his previous production, he didn't darken Song Shi'an's face.
Instead, he used an extremely thin layer of foundation to even out his already good complexion, then brushed very faint shading along his brow bones and the sides of his nose, giving his features another degree of definition.
"In the original novel, Meng Zhen is described as having 'a face like flawless jade and eyes like cold stars,'" the makeup artist said as he worked. "He's a eunuch, but he was personally chosen by the old emperor and raised from childhood to the standards of a young master from an aristocratic family. He looks completely different from an ordinary eunuch, so his makeup can't be too feminine."
The final step was putting on the wig. Meng Zhen wore his hair bound beneath a crown, a far more formal style than Ying Qi's high ponytail.
The makeup artist carefully secured the wig on Song Shi'an's head and fixed it with a hairpin, then stepped back twice to assess the overall effect.
Then he sighed again.
"If you get famous someday, remember to hire me as your personal makeup artist," he said, half joking. "Doing your makeup is so easy. You look good no matter how I do it."
Song Shi'an smiled, rose, and walked out of the makeup room.
Outside the door, a production assistant was jogging past with a box of props in his arms.
He caught sight of the person emerging from the makeup room out of the corner of his eye and stopped so abruptly that the box nearly slipped from his hands.
Song Shi'an stood in the corridor, dressed in those layers upon layers of eunuch's robes. The hem of the inky-black yesa fell to the tops of his feet, and the gold-trimmed leather belt defined his lean, taut waist.
He hadn't fully slipped into character yet. His expression was relaxed, and he even glanced curiously at the signs at both ends of the corridor.
But that outfit on him, paired with his freshly made-up face, was already enough to make passersby stop what they were doing.
The production assistant opened his mouth, but in the end, all he managed was, "Brother Shi'an, the director's waiting for you in Studio Two."
Song Shi'an nodded and headed down the corridor toward Studio Two.
He walked at an unhurried, steady pace, his shoulders and back naturally straight. It wasn't deliberate; it was this body's muscle memory, combined with the posture corrections Instructor Zhao had given him when he played Ying Qi last time.
But to everyone else, his steps looked steady and composed. His robes swayed gently with each stride, already carrying some of the bearing Meng Zhen ought to have.
Inside Studio Two, the director of The Emperor's Ambition was crouched in front of a monitor, discussing camera positions with the cinematographer.
The director's surname was Zheng. He was in his early forties and had directed several well-regarded historical dramas. He was known throughout the industry for being strict.
Hearing footsteps, he looked up. When he saw Song Shi'an walking in, he lowered the walkie-talkie in his hand.