Cheng Che took out his phone and saw that it was a message from Su Miaoyin:
" Cheche, I have a strange feeling. What are you doing?"
Cheng Che's eyes widened in surprise upon seeing this.
Are women's sixth senses really that terrifying? He thought that if Su Miaoyin knew he had lost his first kiss, she would definitely be furious.
He quickly replied, "I'm filming a movie, an action scene. You'll see how handsome I am when it airs!"
With the kissing scene filmed, filming in Xiangshan is coming to an end.
The last few days were spent filming transitional scenes and group scenes. Cheng Che didn't have many scenes; he spent most of his time sitting next to the monitor watching others act.
Director Zhou would occasionally turn around and chat with him for a few minutes, talking about the staging of the scene, or asking him what he thought of a certain supporting actor's performance.
Cheng Che said a few words, and Director Zhou nodded, then told the assistant director beside him, "Adjust it according to his suggestion."
The entire crew has gotten used to this pace.
Cheng Che wasn't just the male lead; his words carried more weight than those of the assistant director.
On the night filming wrapped, Director Zhou treated the entire crew to dinner.
During the meal, he took his wine glass, walked over to Cheng Che, sat down, and stared at him for a long time.
"In all my years of acting, this is the first time I've felt like my eyes aren't enough to take it all in," Director Zhou said, his tone filled with complex emotion. "These past few months of filming, I almost forgot you were a tennis world Champion. Seeing you in ancient costume standing in the imperial court every day, I truly felt that you *was Shen Che."
Cheng Che smiled and asked, "Does Director Zhou think Shen Che can win the Grand Slam?"
Director Zhou paused for a moment, then laughed, " Shen Che is no good. Shen Che only knows how to play chess. You are."
He raised his glass and clinked it against Cheng Che's. "Win the French Open. If we do, it'll bring glory to our production team."
Cheng Che took a sip, put down his cup, and said, "Come watch my match sometime."
Director Zhou nodded and said nothing more.
After dinner, Cheng Che and his team returned to the hotel to pack their things.
Filming on location in the Northwest China can only be done during specific seasons, and he can take leave during the interim period.
The French Open is at the end of May, which is just the right time.
While waiting for the elevator in the hotel lobby, Ning Qing walked over from the other end of the corridor.
She was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, her hair was down, she wasn't wearing makeup, and she was clutching a small cloth bag in her hand.
She paused when she reached Cheng Che, her expression still aloof, but she pinched the cloth bag a couple of times with her fingers.
"Here you go." She handed over the cloth bag.
Cheng Che took it, opened it, and glanced at it.
Inside was a red amulet with gold lettering, and it felt like there was something stuffed inside.
May you be safe and sound in France.
Ning Qing spoke in a very calm tone, as if she were recounting something very ordinary.
Cheng Che carefully put the amulet away and placed it in his pocket.
Then he opened his arms and smiled at her.
"Give me a hug?"
Ning Qing was stunned for a moment, and the tips of her ears turned visibly red.
She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Cheng Che had already reached out and pulled her into his arms.
Just for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, and then he let go.
Ning Qing stood there, frozen for a second.
His hand was still raised, as if he didn't know where to put it.
Her ears were bright red, her neck was red too, and she kept her head down like a quail.
"I'll bring you a gift then," Cheng Che said with a smile, picking up his suitcase and stepping into the elevator.
Ning Qing was still standing there when the elevator doors closed.
She glanced down at her hands, then slowly lowered them, clutched her skirt, turned, and walked towards her room, unable to suppress the smile on her lips.
Cheng Che transferred twice on his way from Xiangshan to France.
The journey from Ningbo to Capital City, and then from Capital City to Paris, took more than ten hours.
When they arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport, he was still quite energetic, but Chen Wei and Qin Lie were already extremely sleepy.
Wilson staff were waiting at the exit, holding up a sign that read "CHENG CHE".
Upon seeing Cheng Che emerge, a France man approached him and said in broken English, "Welcome to Paris," before taking his luggage.
The car drove directly to the organizing committee's office.
The tournament director of Roland Garros was already waiting; he was a middle-aged man in his fifties who shook hands firmly and had a warm smile on his face.
"Mr. Cheng, welcome to the French Open," he said in English, with a translator beside him. "Your performance at the Australian Open has been seen by the whole world. We look forward to your performance on clay."
Cheng Che nodded. "Thank you. I'm still getting used to clay courts, I hope I can play well."
The manager patted him on the shoulder. "Just let us know if you need anything. You're one of the most watched players at this year's French Open, and our team will do everything we can to help."
After leaving the organizing committee, Cheng Che got into his car and drove towards the hotel.
On the way, he opened his phone and glanced at the trending topics in China.
#Cheng Che arrives in Paris to prepare for the French Open #
French Open Cheng Che #
# Cheng Che #
The comments section is full of anticipation.
[ French Open!!! Cheng Che's clay court debut!!!]
[Now that we've won the Australian Open, can we also win the French Open?]
[Red clay and hard courts are completely different; I wonder how well he'll adapt.]
He hasn't played on clay before, has he? Going straight to the French Open is a bit risky.
[Have you forgotten who he is? He won the Australian Open on his very first try!]
Winning the French Open Champion would make it a double crown.
I'm cheering for Che Baby! No matter the venue, I believe in him!
In Seoul South Korea.
Pei Jingshu sat at her workstation, her phone propped up in front of her, displaying a news article about Cheng Che's arrival in Paris.
She pouted and mumbled something in Chinese.
"Faithless man."
A colleague passing by glanced at her and asked, "What did you say?"
"It's nothing." Pei Jingshu shook her head, then added softly, "He promised to come see me, but he hasn't come even once."
She flipped through the calendar and calculated her vacation days.
Cheng Che was busy, and so was she. For the past few months, she had been interning at SM Entertainment, writing songs, arranging music, and having meetings with producers. Her schedule was packed every day.
The two of them have video chatted only a handful of times.
Fortunately, she has a holiday next week.
She opened her booking app and searched for flights from Seoul to Paris.
Economy class tickets are still available, and the timing is suitable.
She stared at the screen for a few seconds, then clicked "Book".
" Cheng Che," she whispered into her phone screen, "You can't escape this time."