After Being Dumped by the Film Empress, My Acting Skills Soared - Chapter 40

Chapter 40

 

Shao Niannian stood at the door, her hand hesitating for a moment. She sniffled, thinking Gu Yizhi made a lot of sense. If she was going to be heartbroken, she should at least test the waters and see where Jiang Yan stood.

 

Before, there was never an opportunity to work together. Now, ten years later, they were finally in the same crew. Although Wen Jing had played a part in this “reunion,” it was still a rare chance. If she missed it now, who knew when the next one would come?

 

Niannian took a deep breath. Just as she was about to knock with her knuckles, the door opened from the inside, and Jiang Yan poked her head out.

 

“You…”

 

“Um…”

 

They both spoke at once, their eyes colliding. Jiang Yan spoke first, motioning for Niannian to go ahead. She hadn’t taken off the jacket she threw on earlier; she was thinking that if Niannian asked to go out for food, it would save time. Holding the doorknob, Jiang Yan was already mentally listing places that might still be open for a late meal.

 

Niannian hadn’t expected the floor to be yielded to her so suddenly. She scratched her head. Her mouth, usually so eloquent with close friends, could only lick her dry lips, her teeth nervously nipping at a tiny crack on her lower lip.

 

The pain stimulated her brain, but the more nervous she got, the harder she bit. The pain didn’t make the anxiety go away; instead, her mind went completely blank.

 

Jiang Yan waited for a moment. Hearing no sound, she looked up, only to have her hand grabbed and herself pushed back into the room.

 

Bang.

 

The door slammed shut.

 

Before Jiang Yan could react, she was pressed down onto the bed. The soft mattress sank under the weight of two adults, letting out a low creak. Fortunately, Jiang Yan instinctively braced herself with her elbow as she landed; otherwise, they both would have tumbled down with uncontrolled force.

 

Niannian pressed one knee onto the mattress. A blush was painted across her face, deep and indelible. She kept her head down, not daring to meet Jiang Yan’s eyes, terrified that her most humble emotions would be seen through.

 

In ten years, Niannian had imagined countless ways they might meet and had unconsciously fantasized about confession scenes while watching dramas. But since the moment they actually met, everything had been a failure.

 

The clumsy-tongued version of herself seemingly couldn’t put on the “actor” persona in front of Jiang Yan. She could never be as relaxed and sincere as she was with fans. She was always timidly clutching at this connection, afraid of losing it by accident, afraid a wrong word would cause offense. The cool, elegant, sophisticated image she had rehearsed in her head had never successfully manifested.

 

For Shao Niannian, a “crush” was synonymous with “clumsiness.” Clumsily liking someone for ten years—even though they were in the same industry and someone would have bridged the gap if she had just asked. But she was too clumsy, so clumsy she had stayed in place for a decade. Even her confession lines, rehearsed a thousand times, resulted in her only mumbling under someone else’s encouragement, unable to get a word out.

 

Niannian almost made herself cry with frustration again.

 

If Jiang Yan didn’t understand the ambiguity of this scene, then entertainment news was truly wasting the attention they gave her dating life. But before her hand could reach Niannian’s waist to push up from the bed, the person pressing on her leg shifted to pressing against her whole body.

 

The “Pear Blossom” (Niannian) was hanging on the branch, not pressing down on the “Begonia” (Jiang Yan) planted firmly in the ground. But the snow-white pear blossoms, carrying a flush of rouge they shouldn’t have had, pressed down upon the Begonia anyway. It bent the Begonia’s stems and softened its full petals. The petals of different colors overlapped, and one could no longer tell which petal belonged to which flower.

 

The veil draped over the Begonia’s stem was stripped away.

 

Earlier, the Begonia had looked up and asked the Pear Blossom on the branch, “Besides this thin wind and fine rain, what else do you want to eat?” But now, the Begonia was suffering.

 

The person pressing down was incredibly clumsy, yet every move was full of caution and a desire to please. The kiss was like something learned and sold on the spot—whatever move she remembered, she used. Not only was there no technique, but she also bumped against Jiang Yan’s lips. If her legs hadn’t been pinned, the Begonia would have struggled; it would have been a toss-up as to who was kissing whom.

 

As spring neared its end, the Pear Blossom grew silent, watching her peers fall from high branches one by one—picked up, discarded, loved, or hated. Every emotion affected her. Year after year, she preferred to shrink back on the branch, pretending she hadn’t reached her blooming phase, never daring to ask the mid-height Begonia on the ground: “Can you catch me?”

 

Year after year, day after day.

 

Finally, the Pear Blossom met the beautiful Begonia on the ground. No longer watching from the safety of the branches, she didn’t wait for an answer before jumping down and kissing the soft, overlapping petals.

 

As spring turned to early summer, the pear blossoms fell, and the begonias bloomed. Falling along with the pear blossoms was Shao Niannian’s overflowing love.

 

“So…” Su Chaoyue, who was finally online while preparing to return to China after finishing her studies in Germany to pick a doctoral program, looked at the screen full of exclamation marks and Gu Yizhi’s ruthless mockery. “So, you just ran away after kissing her?”

 

Gu Yizhi snorted. “Timid and a flake—classic Shao Niannian.”

 

Niannian covered her face. The broken skin on her reddened lips still stung. Now, whenever she saw keywords like “kiss” or “make out,” her brain became an uncontrollable video player, replaying those sultry scenes. She could still feel the softness of the lips and the slender waist under her hands. Niannian’s ears burned at the thought. If there hadn’t been someone else in the room, she might have let out a few giddy laughs.

 

Wen Jing: “…” Is this kid going crazy?

 

Niannian huddled under the duvet and replied: “Isn’t it obvious?! I already kissed her! It was a silent confession!”

 

Gu Yizhi snorted. “Watch out, she might think you’re a creep and report you for sexual harassment.”

 

“I did not,” Niannian argued. “My mind was a complete blank at the time. I just thought, why think so much? Just kiss her and be done with it…”

 

“Wait, f***! What if she really does report me for harassment?” Niannian said with hindsight. “Even if she doesn’t sue… will she think I’m mentally ill? Will she think I’m a pervert?”

 

Su Chaoyue had a headache. Reading Niannian’s panicked texts, she sighed. “Are you just realizing this now? You’re a bit slow, aren’t you? It’s been half an hour.”

 

Su Chaoyue told Gu Yizhi to shut up and stop causing trouble in the group, then said slowly, “If you can’t say it, use text. You had so many ways, why did you pick the most… unspeakable one? Even if she has a good impression of you or likes you, such an abrupt kiss can be uncomfortable.”

 

“Stop looking at the stuff Gu Yizhi sends you!” Su Chaoyue hit the nail on the head.

 

Gu Yizhi said defiantly, “Is that my fault? It’s her fault. There isn’t a single person I can’t land with the methods I teach.”

 

“You’ll crash and burn eventually,” Su Chaoyue predicted coldly.

 

As Su and Gu bickered back and forth, Niannian was the only one living in fear. “So the reason Jiang Yan hasn’t come to find me isn’t because she’s shy like me! It’s because she hates me!”

 

At that thought, Niannian’s face fell. She crawled out from the duvet, looking pathetic.

 

Wen Jing, who was sitting on the bed applying a face mask: “?”

 

“Are you okay…?” Why does she seem like she’s going insane? Crying one second, laughing the next.

 

“I think… I messed up again,” Niannian told Wen Jing dejectedly.

 

It was only then that Wen Jing noticed Niannian’s lip was split. She might not have been the lead, but she had seen enough “pig” to know a “pork” cut when she saw one. Wen Jing leaned forward, ignoring the mask essence dripping, and squeezed Niannian’s injured lip. After seeing her wince, Wen Jing said calmly, “Was this chewed by a dog, or did you go chew a dog?”

 

The guilty Niannian: “…I don’t think it counts as a dog?” A human-shaped dog?

 

“Heh.” The Young Miss rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t know. I only dated her for less than three months.”

 

Wen Jing let out an “oh” and was about to list everything she and Jiang Yan did during their relationship when she remembered Niannian had just bitten the “wild dog.” Fearing she might hurt Niannian’s fragile heart, she tilted her head and asked, “You don’t mind, do you?”

 

Niannian was incredibly jealous but had to say she didn’t mind. What a joke—if she minded every single one, wouldn’t she have died of anger over the last ten years?

 

Wen Jing rareley had the leisure to recount her time with Jiang Yan. “Going to the park, visiting art galleries, attending that F1 racing event for a car endorsement, eating cake together for birthdays.”

 

“That’s it.”

 

Wen Jing peeled off her mask and looked at Niannian’s split lip, letting out a “tsk.”

 

“So, if you’re asking me whether to get a rabies shot after being bitten by a dog or biting one, I can’t help you.”

 

Wen Jing gritted her teeth. “Because we were ‘Pure Love’! Pure dating!”

 

And then she had been dumped by that weirdo on New Year’s Day. Although Wen Jing didn’t think the relationship was that interesting, the fact that Jiang Yan broke up with her first was enough to make her annoyed.

 

Niannian’s ears turned red as she oddly caught the wrong point. “Ah, then why did you say she…”

 

“Say what?” Wen Jing frowned, wondering which of the many “rumors” she’d spread about Jiang Yan Niannian meant.

 

“Didn’t you say she was… ‘no good’ at that stuff? But you guys never even tried.”

 

Wen Jing hadn’t expected a twenty-five-year-old to still be as pure as someone who knew nothing. After some painful reflection, she wiped the remaining essence from her face, grabbed Niannian out of her duvet, and said seriously: “We tried, found out she was no good, and then went back to pure dating. Understood?”

 

“But…” Niannian felt her understanding of “no good” might be different from Wen Jing’s. Her lips were evidence—she couldn’t have bitten her own lip like that. Even if she was nervous, that wasn’t a spot she habitually nibbled.

 

The flesh at the corner of her mouth had been bitten by the “no good” Jiang Yan Wen Jing spoke of.

 

Looking at Niannian’s half-baked understanding, Wen Jing suddenly felt a heavy burden on her shoulders. She had found a better way to get back at Jiang Yan. Since Jiang Yan only liked being “on top,” she’d find someone to pin her down. Wen Jing preferred to hold the power herself; now that her best student had taken the first step, she didn’t mind teaching the rest. She was too lazy to watch the actual revenge anyway—she didn’t want to get sties in her eyes.

 

Wen Jing rolled up her pajama sleeves and began to generously share the biological knowledge that human beings should possess regarding their seven emotions and six desires.

 

Niannian had stepped onto a “pirate ship” much larger and darker than Gu Yizhi’s. That day, Niannian suddenly felt that the pictures and texts she had scrolled through on her phone were child’s play. Wen Jing actually knew how to teach, and she did so without any embarrassment or taboo.

 

The Pear Blossom fell, but it didn’t fall into the mud. Instead, it fell into a dye vat that looked red but was actually yellow. It splashed and gurgled, capsizing in the ocean of “knowledge,” leaving Niannian’s face beet-red. She had completely forgotten about the Begonia who had caught her and been pinned to the bed earlier.

 

Meanwhile, Jiang Yan calmly accepted Mo Yu’s scrutiny. After the sixth “tsk” echoed in the room, she looked at Mo Yu with a frown. “What do you want to say?”

 

“So, you have a new girlfriend already?” Mo Yu teased. “I still remember someone swearing before we got here: ‘She’s not my type’ and ‘Is that how you see me?'”

 

“It hasn’t even been a few months since you said that.”

 

“We haven’t confirmed a relationship,” Jiang Yan instinctively touched her lip, as if she could still feel that raw, moist kiss. Being kissed had indeed made her heart flutter. But now that things had cooled down, she felt it was just hormones playing tricks.

 

“What do you mean?” Mo Yu blinked and looked at her.

 

“I said, I don’t like her that much,” Jiang Yan said calmly. “I can distinguish whether I like someone or not.”

 

“…” Mo Yu opened her mouth but said nothing, looking at Jiang Yan with a forced expression. “As long as you’re happy. I’m just a bystander. Only…”

 

“Mm?”

 

Mo Yu said, “Could you just endure it a bit longer before you mess up the relationship? My movie is almost finished; don’t break my lead actress’s mental state. This film can’t survive a second reshoot.”

 

“…” Jiang Yan’s voice was low. “I have work in a few days; I have to leave. Don’t worry, you’ll finish this film safely.”

 

“From your lips to God’s ears.” Mo Yu wrapped herself in her blanket and lay down, preparing for an early start the next morning. She ran through the plot and scenes she’d worked on with the writer today before slowly falling asleep.

 

Jiang Yan, lying on her bed, was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The room was dark enough that she could see nothing. After a while, she pulled her phone from under her pillow and unblocked her manager.

 

Jiang Yan: “You there? Any business invites recently?”

 

A moment later, the manager replied: “Oh? Unblocked me? I thought you were having so much fun in the mountains you forgot you even had a manager.”

 

“I can block you again right now.”

 

The manager was silenced, knowing Jiang Yan was a woman of her word. “There’s one. The theatrical re-release of Night of the Wicked. Director Wu called me specifically. He wants to know if you can do some theater tours. There are five stops, but he said we can pick and choose if that’s too many.”

 

Jiang Yan frowned at the mention of Night of the Wicked. That strange feeling she thought had vanished surged again, a sultry heat spreading through her chest along with her blood. Most maddeningly, the kiss between her and her co-star in the film was unconsciously being replaced by that clumsy, youthful kiss from earlier. Her body and face grew hot. The blanket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Her hand on top of the blanket felt cool, but the weight on her body was warm—like a woman pressing down on her, delivering a clumsy kiss.

 

Jiang Yan took a deep breath and asked the manager if there was any other work. Understanding this was a soft rejection, the manager hurried to add: “The car brand you endorse? Their team just took a great rank in the World Mountain Off-road. They’re having a victory banquet and a new product launch. Do you want to go? They sent the main details; I’ll forward them to you. It’s too much to explain in a few words.”

 

The manager quickly sent the file. Jiang Yan opened it and saw the banquet coincided with the brand’s 70th anniversary. The schedule was reasonable—filming an ad and a micro-documentary.

 

“This one,” Jiang Yan said. “When do they want it?”

 

Before the manager could reply, Jiang Yan added: “I’m coming back this weekend. Book my ticket. The earlier, the better.”

 

The manager pushed up his glasses and checked ticket info. “The event isn’t urgent, the contract isn’t even signed, and the banquet isn’t for another half-month. Why the rush? Will Young Miss Wen agree?”

 

“I have leverage on her too.” The implication was that it wasn’t up to Wen Jing to disagree.

 

The manager understood. “So you annoyed someone new in the crew, right? Who is it? Let me mentally prepare for a dating scandal.”

 

“No one. Just confirm it. Book the flight, as fast as possible.”

 

With things settled, Jiang Yan stuffed her phone back under the pillow and closed her eyes to try and sleep. But the more she tried, the more restless she became. She couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss—the one with no skill at all that bumped against her lips and tongue. For the first time, Jiang Yan felt that summer had truly arrived—it was hot, far too hot.

 

The next morning, everyone got up early for work. Wen Jing was a heavy sleeper, but since makeup took time, Niannian patted her face and told Wen Jing’s assistant to wake her up before heading to makeup herself.

 

At 4:00 AM, before dawn, Niannian sat in the makeup chair on an empty stomach.

 

“Thanks for your hard work. Today’s makeup is a bit complicated; let me know if you feel uncomfortable.”

 

The makeup artist wasn’t the usual one. Niannian’s eyes ached with fatigue; she forced them open and then closed them again, too sleepy to notice anything wrong.

 

Standing behind her, the makeup artist couldn’t suppress the excitement on her face. Upon closer inspection, the hand holding the brush was trembling slightly. She stared at Niannian through the mirror, her eyes full of burning obsession. When her hand touched Niannian’s cheek, she instinctively moved slower and more gently, as if the person before her were sacred and inviolable.

 

Her fingertips traveled from the brow to the edge of the cheek, then down to the lips, carefully tracing toward the neck. All of this she had seen thousands of times in photographs.