Chapter 85: Eggplant Fish
“Drink the bones?”
Pan Xiang and Jiang Lingling looked towards the voice and saw Mi Hongdou holding Ji Junxin’s wrist, her gaze fixed on the spoon of fish soup in Ji Junxin’s hand, using her other hand to pick out a fish bone. They both mentally sighed, Mi Hongdou was truly devoted, while Ji Junxin… Ji Junxin looked at them innocently.
Just as Pan Xiang and Jiang Lingling were mentally criticizing the oblivious Ji Junxin, Ji Junxin blinked at them, her expression curious. “Who’s eating shells?”
Pan Xiang released Jiang Lingling’s wrist, and Jiang Lingling slowly lowered her spoon. For some reason, being questioned by the clueless Ji Junxin made them feel slightly awkward.
It was like elementary school exams, they always got perfect scores, while another child always failed. Then one day, they failed, and the usually failing child, with an innocent expression, looked around and asked, “Who else failed this time?” How awkward.
Wait, why was she feeling awkward? Pan Xiang wondered.
“Although this eggplant fish uses fillets, and there shouldn’t be any bones in the soup, you should still be careful, scoop from the top,” Mi Hongdou said, discarding the fish bone she had just picked out from Ji Junxin’s spoon. She looked at Pan Xiang and Jiang Lingling. “What’s wrong?”
Since it sounded like Pan Xiang’s voice earlier, Mi Hongdou looked in her direction.
Pan Xiang remained silent. Although Jiang Lingling had also been foolish just now, she couldn’t bear to categorize her with Ji Junxin.
“Heh…” Jiang Lingling chuckled awkwardly. “I wasn’t paying attention, I almost ate the clam shell.” If Mi Hongdou hadn’t been looking at Pan Xiang, she wouldn’t have admitted it! But she couldn’t just let Mi Hongdou be questioned. Jiang Lingling mentally patted herself on the back.
“Hahaha…” Ji Junxin’s eyes crinkled with laughter, and she turned to Mi Hongdou proudly. “See, the clam shell was so big, and my fish bone was so small.”
…You’re proud of not seeing the fish bone? Mi Hongdou couldn’t bear to criticize Ji Junxin and just smiled, letting Jiang Lingling take the blame.
Jiang Lingling felt miserable. It was like a usually failing student finding her test paper with a 59 and waving it in front of her, who had scored a 58…
Mi Hongdou, ignoring Jiang Lingling’s misery, focused on ladling fish soup for Ji Junxin. The eggplant fish soup, simmered until milky white, looked and smelled delicious. No wonder Ji Junxin, who hadn’t had fish soup at lunch, immediately went for it. Mi Hongdou carefully scooped the soup from the top, her movements gentle yet efficient. It was cold, and even with the air conditioning, the soup would cool down quickly. Warm, almost scalding, that was the perfect temperature for fish soup. Mi Hongdou was focused, perhaps thinking of the person who would be drinking the soup, her gaze gentle.
Ji Junxin, having finished teasing Jiang Lingling, was now captivated by Mi Hongdou. One gently ladling the soup, the other watching intently, the atmosphere between them shifted, a quiet intimacy that seemed to exclude everyone else.
Bai Tang, sitting next to Mi Hongdou, nibbling on a piece of beef, sensed something and shifted her chair slightly away, feeling more comfortable.
Although Pan Xiang wasn’t always on set, as a writer with a wild imagination, she could sense the unusual dynamic between Mi Hongdou and Ji Junxin. That was why she had told Mi Hongdou about Gu Tiansheng, subtly warning them to be careful, even revealing that she had written the scripts for his films.
In Pan Xiang’s view, there was indeed something more than friendship between Mi Hongdou and Ji Junxin, but how it would develop was uncertain. After all, in this industry, it wasn’t uncommon for actors to develop feelings for each other during filming. Even romantic relationships between male and female actors often fizzled out, let alone same-sex relationships, which were much more difficult. It wasn’t that Pan Xiang didn’t think they could make it work, she had seen similar situations on Gu Tiansheng’s sets. Two years ago, during the filming of “The Kettle and the Heart,” based on her novel, the two male leads had become incredibly close. Gu Tiansheng had wanted them to continue working together on “Spy Game,” but he was worried about their relationship developing further, so he didn’t, even kindly advising them to spend some time apart after filming. Who knew that the two, so close during filming, practically inseparable, would drift apart after “The Kettle and the Heart” wrapped up, each pursuing their own careers. Pan Xiang knew that her script probably had flaws, but the emotional impact of a story was temporary. Now, she wondered if Mi Hongdou and Ji Junxin would remain close after filming ended. If not, she felt a strange sense of… melancholy.
Jiang Lingling watched as Mi Hongdou ladled soup for Ji Junxin. A fish bone, not even eaten yet, and someone was already there to remove it, such attentiveness, even without knowing the nature of their relationship, it was still enviable. Jiang Lingling looked at the two, their little world excluding everyone else, how they constantly blinded single dogs with their brilliance. Only someone with her inner strength, her grand ambitions and ideals, could be friends with them. She didn’t realize that there were other single people at the table, but she was the only one feeling the sting.
Pan Xiang, who had stopped Jiang Lingling from eating the clam shell earlier, although now eating a piece of twice-cooked pork, was still paying attention to Jiang Lingling. So, Jiang Lingling’s expectant and melancholic expression didn’t escape her notice. A sudden thought struck her, making her pause, her chopsticks almost dropping the garlic chives.
That expression on Jiang Lingling’s face… could it be that she had a crush on one of them! Pan Xiang’s gaze swept over Mi Hongdou and Ji Junxin, immersed in their own world, clearly not welcoming any intrusion. If Jiang Lingling had feelings for one of them, wasn’t she setting herself up for heartbreak?
Pan Xiang was startled by her own thought. If Jiang Lingling knew, she would probably laugh and smear steamed egg on her face. Pan Xiang hadn’t spent much time with Jiang Lingling, unlike her assistant, who often saw this envious and jealous look and wouldn’t have such a wild imagination.
The thinly sliced pork belly, fried until crispy, the fat rendered and no longer greasy, the lean meat tender and fragrant, stir-fried with garlic chives and various sauces, was a delicious dish. But Pan Xiang, preoccupied with her thoughts, couldn’t appreciate it.
Her gaze shifting between the almost lovey-dovey duo and the seemingly heartbroken Jiang Lingling, Pan Xiang felt that her guess might be right. She just didn’t know… whether it was Jiang Lingling’s own feelings, or if it was influenced by her script… Although she wasn’t sure, Pan Xiang felt a pang of guilt. Her scripts always had this flaw, somehow turning normal romances into BL stories… and now, perhaps, also yuri.
Pan Xiang sympathetically gave Jiang Lingling a piece of clam meat. Jiang Lingling looked at her, surprised, as if saying, did you think I was so stupid as to eat the shell? Pan Xiang, for once, didn’t argue and gave her another piece.
Actually, she didn’t really like clams… Jiang Lingling looked at the little girl with the bun, diligently picking out clam meat, and ate the offered pieces.
The clam meat, firm and flavorful… Just two small pieces, and Jiang Lingling closed her eyes in satisfaction. She seemed to recall reading somewhere that clams were considered the most flavorful seafood. It was in a time-travel, farming novel. The foodie protagonist, having traveled back to ancient times with limited ingredients and cooking techniques, to satisfy her cravings and earn money, had dried and powdered clams as a substitute for MSG and made a delicious clam sauce, making a fortune. The author’s description of the clam’s flavor had made Jiang Lingling hungry, and she remembered it clearly. A foodie wasn’t necessarily a good cook. Someone like Mi Hongdou, with her excellent culinary skills, could thrive in any era. It was a pity that she chose to be an actress. If she joined her restaurant, it would be a huge boost, Jiang Lingling thought, looking at Mi Hongdou, who was serving Ji Junxin fish soup, her eyes filled with regret.
That melancholic, lovesick gaze! Why was she like this again! Pan Xiang followed Jiang Lingling’s gaze and realized who the object of her affection was.
Feeling sorry for her, Pan Xiang gave Jiang Lingling some scrambled eggs with shredded pork and yellow chives.
Jiang Lingling returned the favor with a spoonful of iron plate tofu.
The iron plate tofu, made with Japanese tofu, coated in cornstarch and deep-fried until golden brown, then stir-fried with onions, sausage, and diced carrots, seasoned with tomato sauce, and finally placed on a sizzling hot iron plate with some broth, was a delicious and appetizing dish. But Pan Xiang, eating the tofu, sighed inwardly. It seemed that Jiang Lingling’s current mood, just like the taste of this tofu, was a bit… sour.
Jiang Lingling, eating the shredded pork, had no idea that someone else’s imagination was now surpassing hers.
Pan Xiang’s conflicted thoughts went unnoticed.
Mi Hongdou was watching Ji Junxin, who was carefully sipping the fish soup, and nagging, “Drink slowly, so if there are any fish bones, they’ll sink to the bottom.”
Ji Junxin took a small sip. The milky white soup was fragrant and flavorful, without any fishy smell. The white pepper enhanced the aroma, and the warmth flowed down her throat, warming her from the inside.
Unlike the external warmth from air conditioning or hot water bottles, only food could bring such inner warmth and satisfaction.
It was so delicious she wanted to swallow her own tongue! Ji Junxin, before Mi Hongdou could stop her, quickly finished the soup.
“There were no fish bones. How could there be fish bones in the soup you ladled for me?” Ji Junxin licked her lips and showed Mi Hongdou the clean, empty bowl.
Why did she look so smug? Mi Hongdou, amused and exasperated, took the bowl. “I’ll get you another bowl.”
Regardless of the blatant flirting between one pair and the awkwardness between the other, the delicious food made it a pleasant meal. By the time everyone was almost finished, Mi Hongdou remembered the steamed crabs in the kitchen. She had steamed two for each person, but now… one each would probably be enough.
Everyone was quite full, good food was hard to resist, especially for Bai Tang, who was trying Mi Hongdou’s cooking for the first time. Now, forget about crabs, she could barely eat another bite of anything. Steamed crabs weren’t difficult to make, it wasn’t like Mi Hongdou’s other dishes. But since she had made them, they still expressed their willingness to have one.
The colder the weather, the fatter the crabs. The steamed crabs, their shells almost bursting with bright orange, glistening roe, were incredibly tempting.
One female crab per person, a small dish of ginger vinegar.
Slightly full, they ate the crabs slowly, like a snack, chatting casually.
Mostly listening to Jiang Lingling. She pointed out several scenes in the later part of the script that she thought could be changed. Minor changes, like changing “placing the bucket on the ground” to “splashing the water,” or “pushing someone aside” to “bumping into someone”… Most of the scenes she mentioned involved Jiang Duo, and recalling the morning’s incident, Pan Xiang understood Jiang Lingling’s intentions. Jiang Duo was truly unlucky to have offended the vengeful Jiang Lingling.
Although Jiang Lingling’s intentions were obvious, Pan Xiang could tell that she had indeed studied the script carefully, and some of her suggestions weren’t bad. For those that could improve the plot, Pan Xiang said she would consider them. But those that were purely for the sake of tormenting Jiang Duo, without any benefit to the story, she rejected.
Jiang Lingling was a little disappointed. She had spent a lot of time finding those scenes.
Pan Xiang, looking at the disappointed Jiang Lingling, then at Mi Hongdou, felt a pang of sympathy.
“If we change all the scenes you mentioned, it would seem like Wei Xunqin is deliberately targeting Concubine Zhu. After all, Wei Xunqin’s rank in the palace is lower than Concubine Zhu’s. If the young empress continues to use her authority to suppress the others, then Wei Xunqin can’t be too aggressive towards Concubine Zhu, who outranks her. Only when Concubine Zhu goes too far, truly threatening or causing trouble for the Empress and Miao Qianye, would Wei Xunqin, wanting to repay the Empress’s kindness, have a reason to intervene. Like in this morning’s scene, with the concubines surrounding the Empress and Miao Qianye, Concubine Zhu instigating and provoking, and the situation escalating, Wei Xunqin’s bucket of cold water was just right.” Pan Xiang paused. “Actually, the changes I agreed to earlier are already enough to make Concubine Zhu suffer. And I’ll add some subtle actions for Miao Qianye, which should also satisfy those who dislike Concubine Zhu.”
Satisfy who? The characters in the story? The audience? Or Jiang Lingling? Pan Xiang didn’t specify. But Jiang Lingling understood. Making a good film was the priority, getting revenge on someone you disliked was just a bonus. Pan Xiang’s explanation, although out of sympathy, had inadvertently dissuaded Jiang Lingling from further changing the script.
Seeing Jiang Lingling’s agreement, Pan Xiang was relieved. Although Wei Xunqin was a newly created character after the major script revision, she was the character Pan Xiang had put the most effort into. It was thanks to the detailed information about Jiang Lingling provided by Dong Yuannan. Not just among those at the table, but probably in the entire crew, thanks to Dong Yuannan, Pan Xiang was probably the one who understood Jiang Lingling the most. From his information, she not only knew what Jiang Lingling liked to eat, drink, and wear, what she disliked and feared… but after careful study, she almost felt like she could see into Jiang Lingling’s heart.
Having lost her parents at a young age, growing up in poverty, yet remaining resilient and kind. Forced into an unwanted marriage by her relatives, driven to despair, then saved by Dong Yuannan. Late at night, Pan Xiang, reading Dong Yuannan’s account, filled with a father’s love and compassion, could almost feel Jiang Lingling’s despair… Dong Yuannan’s appearance must have been like a godsend…
They said there were gods and buddhas watching over mortals, but for those in despair, the one who extended a helping hand was their god.
That night, Pan Xiang, the writer who could move her readers to tears, found herself tearing up over a stack of documents. Even knowing that the hardship was over, she was still touched by that moment of salvation. And that night, a new Wei Xunqin was born under her pen. Unloved, resilient, yet burdened by misfortune, having experienced great hardship, finding a helping hand, a savior, in her moment of despair.
The new character took shape overnight. Pan Xiang remembered finishing the script just as dawn broke, the gentle light dispelling the darkness. At that moment, she knew that Wei Xunqin, although a supporting character, would be loved by many. Because everyone hoped for salvation.
Although Qiao Rubai had initially just asked her to flesh out Jiang Lingling’s character and add more scenes, after writing Wei Xunqin’s story, Pan Xiang couldn’t bear to have her brilliance hidden. In the script for Jiang Lingling, besides the usual scene descriptions and lines, she also added detailed analyses of the character’s emotional and relational development. She loved Wei Xunqin too much and hoped that Jiang Lingling, the inspiration for the character, could portray her well.
So, Pan Xiang didn’t want Director Pan to have any prejudice against Jiang Lingling, and she didn’t want Jiang Lingling to deviate too much from the plot just to torment Jiang Duo. It wasn’t worth it… for a screenwriter, seeing her beloved characters brought to life on screen was the ultimate reward.
Jiang Lingling had asked why her script had so many extra notes, and Pan Xiang had just casually said it was a “newbie perk.” So, in the end, Jiang Lingling never knew about Pan Xiang’s special feelings for Wei Xunqin, or even for her.
They ate crabs and discussed the plot, the atmosphere even livelier than during the meal.
Ji Junxin had also become closer to Jiang Lingling these past few days. Hearing Jiang Lingling’s requests for more scenes tormenting Jiang Duo, she couldn’t help but smile. “With your straightforward and vengeful personality, playing the tragic and forbearing Wei Xunqin must be difficult.”
Jiang Lingling chuckled. “Although the character is quite different from me, it’s actually quite easy to play, especially after the screenwriter revised the script a few times. Our little screenwriter is truly amazing!”
Who’s a little girl! Pan Xiang glared at Jiang Lingling. How was Wei Xunqin different from her? Both pitiful, both lacking love, both unlucky, both saved, both devoted to their saviors! Where was the difference! Pan Xiang looked around the table, everyone seemingly agreeing with Jiang Lingling, and sighed inwardly. So, only she could see through Jiang Lingling’s boisterous facade… these people lacked any sense of observation! Wait, why was she observing…
The oblivious group happily ate their crabs, until Bai Tang, pointing at Ji Junxin’s plate, let out a soft gasp.
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