Chapter 59 p1
“Cut! That’s a wrap!”
Xin Yao stood in the center of the set, bathed in the bright, white light of the winter sun, a red dress swirling around her, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions as she looked at the faces before her.
The crew of “Unseen Spring.”
Director Gao, behind the camera, the assistant director, his hair thinning from countless sleepless nights, the screenwriter, her eyes filled with tears, having witnessed the culmination of their shared journey, Lu Duanjing’s story finally told, her life brought to life on screen.
The camera operators, the lighting crew, the makeup artists, and all the others, their faces a mix of exhaustion, relief, and pride.
A wave of applause erupted, a celebration of their hard work, their shared accomplishment.
Xin Yao’s eyes flickered, the memories of the past few months flashing before her, like a film reel rewinding, from the warm days of autumn to the cold depths of winter.
From the day she had auditioned, her determination to get the role, to her first day on set, her first encounter with Lu Duanjing.
She had initially found acting tedious and repetitive.
But as the filming progressed, as she delved deeper into Lu Duanjing’s character, her initial reluctance had given way to a newfound appreciation for the craft, her interest growing with each scene.
She had been moved by Lu Duanjing and Wen Sigu’s love story, their struggles and their triumphs, their quiet defiance in a world that sought to silence them.
And she had been inspired by the talented actors around her, their performances a masterclass in emotional depth and nuance.
She had become completely immersed in her role, in the story, her initial desire to finish the film quickly replaced by a deep sense of connection, a reluctance to say goodbye.
Director Gao, her own eyes filled with emotion, walked over to Xin Yao.
Filmmaking wasn’t always a pleasant experience. It was often a painful, arduous process.
The endless rewrites, the countless retakes, the frustrating technical difficulties, the constant pressure to create something beautiful and meaningful, it was all a test of endurance.
But now, with the film finally completed, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, a bittersweet nostalgia for the shared journey.
Director Gao, her usual boisterous energy replaced by a quiet sincerity, looked at Xin Yao, her voice soft.
“Thank you, Xin Yao. You did a wonderful job. Thank you for bringing Lu Duanjing to life.”
“But for now, it’s time to say goodbye to her. We’ll see her again next winter, when the film is released.”
The first half of “Unseen Spring” had been a gentle, almost lyrical exploration of love and longing, its emotional landscape subtle and nuanced.
But the second half had been a descent into darkness, the characters’ lives unraveling, their love a forbidden flame in a world of shadows, Xin Yao’s performance a powerful portrayal of grief and despair.
Director Gao, worried about Xin Yao’s emotional state, had been reluctant to let her and Xu Jingyu see each other after their scenes, afraid they would become too immersed in their roles.
She had hoped to keep them separated, their contact minimal, for their own good.
But they had both been defiant, their desire for each other too strong to be contained by Director Gao’s rules.
Xu Jingyu, knowing Xin Yao’s filming schedule, had been waiting outside the set since early morning, eager to see her.
And if she knew that Director Gao was trying to keep them apart, she would be furious.
So, Director Gao, after much deliberation, had simply said, “Go change your clothes. We’ll have a wrap party tonight.”
Xin Yao, back in her dressing room, removed her makeup and changed into her own clothes, then sat at her vanity table, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects, the empty spaces a reminder of the countless hours she had spent here, her hard work and dedication, her memories of the past few months.
But after today, she wouldn’t be returning.
As she sat there, lost in thought, a sudden movement, a soft rustling sound, startled her.
She turned to see a large bouquet of pink roses, their delicate petals a vibrant splash of color in the soft light.
The hand holding the roses, its long, slender fingers like sculpted jade, was hidden in the shadows.
Following the line of the arm upwards, Xin Yao saw Xu Jingyu, standing there, her gaze soft and warm.
“Congratulations on wrapping up filming, Ms. Xin.”
Xin Yao, with a gasp of surprise, stood up and, instead of taking the flowers, threw herself into Xu Jingyu’s arms, her embrace tight and joyful.
“Oh my god, what are you doing here?!”
She knew Xu Jingyu had finished filming days ago and didn’t need to be on set.
And Director Gao, wanting to protect Xin Yao from any distractions, had kept them apart during the filming of the final scenes, hiding Xin Yao away, forbidding any contact between them.
Xin Yao had practically been living on set for the past ten days, unable to see or speak to Xu Jingyu.
Now, with filming finally over, their reunion after weeks of separation was a joyous occasion.
She hugged Xu Jingyu tightly, then, cupping her face in her hands, kissed her, her lips lingering on Xu Jingyu’s, then showering her with quick, playful kisses.
Xu Jingyu, setting the flowers aside, wrapped her arms around Xin Yao, her body trembling slightly from the unexpected display of affection, her eyes softening as she returned Xin Yao’s kisses.
“Now that filming is over, there’s no need to stay apart. Of course I came to see you.”
“Wow,” Xin Yao nuzzled her face against Xu Jingyu’s neck, her voice a soft murmur. “You really love me, don’t you, Xu Jingyu?”
“Of course,” Xu Jingyu chuckled, the answer obvious.
Then, she paused, as if remembering something.
“Don’t work with Director Gao again. She’s too… unconventional. And don’t take on roles that require you to be separated from me.”
Her words, though unspoken, conveyed her reluctance to be apart from Xin Yao.
Wow.
She really can’t live without me.
Xin Yao couldn’t help but smile, the thought both amusing and slightly overwhelming. They couldn’t be together every second of every day, could they?
“But what if I’m filming on another set? You can’t follow me everywhere, can you?”
Xu Jingyu didn’t answer, her eyes flickering with a sudden intensity. “Can I?”
“You’ve actually thought about it?! Ms. Xu, don’t you have anything else to do?”
“No.”
It was true. Before meeting Xin Yao, her life had been a meaningless void, her days blending into one another, her existence a monotonous routine. Xin Yao had brought color and light into her world.
Xin Yao was her world.
And what else was there to do but revolve around her world?
After weeks of separation, their reunion was filled with unspoken words, their embrace a silent language, their conversation a steady stream of shared thoughts and feelings.
It was Chen Jia’s knock on the door that finally reminded them of the wrap party.
They exchanged a lingering glance, then reluctantly separated, getting ready to leave.
The script for “Unseen Spring” had been a quiet, introspective exploration of love and loss.
But thanks to Director Gao’s eccentric personality and the constant interruptions from the zombie movie set next door, the atmosphere on set had become increasingly chaotic and boisterous.
So, instead of a formal dinner at a restaurant, the wrap party was held on set, in a large, heated tent erected in the open space near the entrance.
Xin Yao, loving the lively atmosphere, her hand in Xu Jingyu’s, entered the tent, the warm air and the sound of laughter and chatter washing over them, their smiles widening.
The crew had been waiting for them.
The hot pot ingredients and broth, ordered from a nearby restaurant, were already simmering in the large pot, the fragrant steam filling the air.
They were just waiting for Xin Yao and Xu Jingyu to arrive.
Xin Yao, her smile bright, greeted everyone as she walked towards Director Gao’s table.
As the two female leads, they were expected to sit with the director.
Two empty seats were waiting for them.
Xin Yao sat down, and Xu Jingyu was about to join her when Director Gao, sitting beside the empty seat, suddenly stood up and plopped down in Xu Jingyu’s chair.
“Yaoyao, Yaoyao! I need to talk to you! I want to sit next to you!”
Then, she gestured towards the seat she had just vacated, her voice a cheerful command. “Ms. Xu, you can sit there.”
With a single, thoughtless action, she had separated the two women who had been forced apart for weeks.
And Xu Jingyu, who craved Xin Yao’s presence, who wanted to be near her every second of every day, naturally wanted to sit beside her.
Hearing Director Gao’s words, she didn’t move, simply standing there, her eyelashes lowered, her gaze cold and intense as she looked down at the director.
Director Gao, oblivious to the danger, leaned closer to Xin Yao, eager to share some gossip.
“Yaoyao, let me tell you…”
The assistant director, witnessing the scene, her heart pounding, thinking, How can someone be so oblivious?!, leaned over and pulled Director Gao back, her voice a hushed warning.
Director Gao, dragged back to her seat, looked at her assistant, confused, then tried to stand up again.
“What’s wrong? I have something important to tell Xin Yao!”
The assistant director pushed her back down, her voice low and urgent.
“Are you blind?! If you go over there, you’ll be dead meat! I just saved your life! You owe me dinner!”
“What are you talking about?!” Director Gao, her curiosity piqued, exclaimed. “You’re insulting my directorial skills! And you’re trying to extort me!”
“I am insulting your directorial skills, but ‘extortion’ is a bit harsh!”
As they bickered, Xu Jingyu, satisfied, sat down beside Xin Yao, her expression impassive, but her eyes, Xin Yao knew, were sparkling with amusement.
If she had a tail, it would be wagging uncontrollably.
Xin Yao, unable to help herself, smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“You’re so childish. Do you really have to sit next to me to be happy?”
“Yes,” Xu Jingyu’s expression softened in the warm light. “I’m very happy now.”
As they whispered to each other, Director Gao and her assistant, their argument temporarily suspended, finally left them alone.
After all, it was a wrap party, and as the director, she had to say a few words.
She stood up, her gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the faces of the cast and crew, their expectant gazes fixed on her, the steam from the hot pot filling the air.
She opened her mouth, then closed it, then finally spoke, her voice clear and strong.
“No mushy speeches. Just eat, drink, and be merry! Happy wrap!”
The room erupted in cheers.
“Happy wrap!”
“Long live the director!”
“Yaoyao Laoshi, we love you!”
The cheerful chatter and the clatter of chopsticks filled the air as the celebration began.
Xin Yao, hearing the shouts of “I love you,” chuckled, then, seeing Xu Jingyu’s slightly sullen expression, she laughed even harder.
But as they ate, Xin Yao noticed something strange. She had noticed it during their previous dinner as well. Xu Jingyu, when eating hot pot, only ate the vegetables from the clear broth!
She was the real bunny!
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