Always Chasing My White Moonlight Omega - Chapter 41

“What do you mean by this?” Seeing Ruan Yang so directly finalize the script, the department head’s face darkened like the bottom of a pot.

“What gives you the right to do this? I’m in charge here, and all scripts are decided by me. To be honest, I don’t think much of this script of yours!”

Ruan Yang stared at the department head’s bald head for a moment but said nothing, merely standing there.

The atmosphere instantly grew tense. The general manager stepped in to ease the awkwardness: “Alright, Director Song, you’re not young anymore, so there’s no need to get angry all the time. Listen to me, let’s designate this script as an S-level project as the young lady suggested. It’s not a big deal, is it?”

“No! Who is she? Why should I listen to her?” Director Song grew even angrier at this and was about to say more when Ruan Yang, expressionless, spoke up while looking at the two of them.

“I’ll select the actors. The popularity will be higher than it is now, I can guarantee it.”

With that, Ruan Yang lowered her head, picked up the script from the table, and turned to leave, ignoring the department head’s trembling finger pointing at her.

She found a random dessert shop to sit in and skimmed through the script.

It was a rare genre, and the protagonist O’s character design was more innovative compared to the usual ones, with an overall anti-cliché approach.

If shot from the right angle and executed well, it could leave a refreshing impression.

As for whether it would become a hit that depended entirely on luck, and Ruan Yang couldn’t guarantee it. She had said what she did earlier only to convey her determination to Xu Rongjiang through the general manager.

She flipped through the script a few more times and realized that casting might be quite challenging. Setting aside the male and female leads, even the supporting roles, particularly the female supporting character, had very high requirements.

After pondering for a while and searching online, Ruan Yang still couldn’t find an actress she thought would be suitable for the female supporting role.

Unable to reach a conclusion after a long time, she gazed out at the street through the glass window and noticed that from this angle, she could vaguely see the eaves of a certain high-rise building in the film and television city.

Suddenly struck by an idea, Ruan Yang took out her phone and sent a message to Director Wu Jun, asking if he was still in the film and television city.

Wu Jun replied that he was and, without another word, sent her his location. Ruan Yang stood up, paid the bill, and took a taxi to the film and television city.

When she found Wu Jun at the location he’d sent, he was waiting for her at the entrance. Seeing her arrive, Wu Jun smiled warmly. “Xiao Ruan, it’s been two months. You’ve finally remembered to visit this old man.”

Ruan Yang handed him a gift bag containing a lumbar support cushion and said with a smile, “I’ve always remembered. This is for you. Sitting for long periods must be uncomfortable this will help a lot.”

“You’re so thoughtful. My back has been bothering me lately, so this gift couldn’t be more timely.” Wu Jun was even more delighted when he saw the gift was a lumbar support cushion far more practical than the usual presents.

As it was nearly dinnertime, he took Ruan Yang to a nearby small restaurant. Placing the gift on the table, he glanced at Ruan Yang and smiled knowingly. “Xiao Ruan, you’ve run into some trouble, haven’t you?”

His tone was certain.

Ruan Yang didn’t deny it. She nodded, took the script from her bag, and handed it to Wu Jun with both hands.

“Please take a look.”

Wu Jun set down his water glass and picked up the script to read through it.

Ruan Yang sat quietly across from him. After about ten minutes, Wu Jun set down the script in his hand. His expression suddenly turned complex. He took another sip of water before speaking slowly, “It’s quite innovative, a good script. Is this the one you’re planning to film?”

Seeing Ruan Yang nod, he lowered his head in thought for a moment. “There aren’t many particularly difficult scenes to shoot, but casting the actors might be quite challenging.”

That was exactly the issue troubling Ruan Yang. She said, “I came here to ask if you have any suggestions for casting the supporting couple.”

“The supporting couple?” Wu Jun looked troubled. “This really isn’t easy to choose.”

The timeline of the supporting storyline didn’t align with that of the main couple, so the actors needed to be slightly older than the leads. The awkward part, however, was that most actresses in that age range were marketing themselves as youthful and wouldn’t be willing to take on such a role.

Wu Jun opened the script again and skimmed through a few pages. Just as the first dish arrived, his eyes suddenly lit up.

“I just thought of someone who might be perfect for this role!”

Ruan Yang had almost given up hope by then, but his words piqued her curiosity. “Who is it?”

Wu Jun smiled without answering, simply pushing the dish toward her. “I’ll keep you in suspense for now. I’ll tell you after we finish eating.”

During the meal, Wu Jun asked about Ruan Yang’s recent projects. She briefly described the drama she was currently filming and mentioned some challenges she had encountered on set. Wu Jun patiently answered each of her questions.

After they finished eating and stepped out of the restaurant, Wu Jun, holding a gift bag in his left hand, patted Ruan Yang’s shoulder with his right and pointed to the script in her hand.

“Keep it up, Xiao Ruan. I really have high hopes for you. This script is excellent, and you’re practically half my student. You must do it justice, understand?”

Hearing Wu Jun’s slow but firm words, Ruan Yang felt a surge of confidence. She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I will.”

With that, Wu Jun placed a slip of paper in Ruan Yang’s hand. “I’ve been thinking, and among today’s actresses, she’s probably the only one suitable for this role. Her phone number is written here. You can contact her and mention that I gave you the number.”

Ruan Yang glanced at the name on the paper and was quite surprised.

But after the initial surprise, she thought it over carefully and felt as if a light had suddenly turned on.

There really wasn’t anyone more suitable than the person written there.

“Thank you, Director Wu,” Ruan Yang said.

“Don’t mention it. Her age might still be a bit of a mismatch, so think it over carefully.”

Since the filming set wasn’t far, Wu Jun bid farewell to Ruan Yang and strolled back.

It was around six in the evening. Ruan Yang carefully put away the slip of paper Wu Jun had given her and wandered around the film studio. Unconsciously, her feet carried her toward the city wall where she had once watched the sunset with Xu Zhiyi.

The wall was still sparsely populated, and the sunset wasn’t as beautiful as last time, it was gloomy and overcast.

Standing there, Ruan Yang glanced down at the bustling crowd below and suddenly found herself missing Xu Zhiyi.

She took out her phone, and the slightly chipped teru teru bozu swayed in the air with her movement. The moment it stopped, the phone lit up, and a familiar ringtone sounded. Ruan Yang looked at her phone with some surprise.

It was Xu Zhiyi calling.

She raised her hand to answer and held it to her ear, hearing a very soft, shallow breath.

Her restless heart, which had been unsettled all afternoon, suddenly calmed at that moment.

Zhiyi.

Ruan Yang parted her lips and silently called her name.

Though no sound came out, it seemed as if the other person had heard.

Xu Zhiyi chuckled lightly, “I’m on a break right now, and I happened to glance at the sunset. I felt like someone was thinking of me.”

Ruan Yang curled her lips into a smile, but her words remained as calm as ever. “Is that so?”

“Of course,” Xu Zhiyi must have taken a few steps forward, now outdoors, her voice slightly more muffled than before. “Are you outside? If you are, look up at the sunset.”

So Ruan Yang lifted her head again.

“The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” Xu Zhiyi said. “Does it look like the one we watched together last time?”

Ruan Yang didn’t mention that she was standing on the very same city wall where they had watched the sunset together last time, nor did she say that what she saw wasn’t a sunset at all, but only a dark expanse of clouds.

She softly hummed in agreement, “It’s beautiful.”

Her voice was lower than usual, and Xu Zhiyi seemed to notice something. “Is everything okay?”

Ruan Yang had intended to say she was fine.

But scenes from the past few days flashed before her eyes once more, and for a moment, she suddenly felt exhausted.

She often wondered, why did she and Xu Zhiyi meet in such a way?

If only their relationship were a little more normal, could she then express her feelings without any hesitation?

Could she stand in the sunlight and hold Xu Zhiyi in her arms?

Ruan Yang closed her eyes. But then again, if things were different, she might never have had the chance to meet Xu Zhiyi at all.

Sensing Ruan Yang’s unusual mood, Xu Zhiyi didn’t press further, simply staying with her in silence as they watched the sunset.

The wind had grown chilly, carrying a hint of dampness as it brushed against her cheeks.

Ruan Yang let out a soft sigh and was about to say something when Xu Zhiyi suddenly spoke, “Ruan Yang, my birthday is coming up.”

“I know.”

Xu Zhiyi paused for a second. “I’m not talking about the birthday online.”

“I know,” Ruan Yang repeated, “I’ve known for a long time.”

Over the past few years, she had watched from the second floor as Aunt Chen made a real birthday cake for Xu Zhiyi on her actual birthday.

The breathing on the other end of the line seemed to quicken for a moment. Xu Zhiyi whispered, “The flowers are about to bloom. I want to see my flowers on my birthday. Is that okay?”

Ruan Yang exited the call screen and glanced at the plane ticket she had already purchased.

She looked toward the distant horizon where the sunset had completely vanished, her voice tinged with an unmistakable softness. “Okay.”

The dark clouds had completely swallowed the last glimmer of the sunset, and the air suddenly grew heavy.

It was going to rain.

Ruan Yang hung up the phone and walked toward the entrance of the film studio. She hailed a taxi to Capital University, but halfway there, the rain began to pour heavily.

The rain was torrential, streaming down the car windows and leaving only flickering lights visible, obscuring the scenery outside.

The driver dropped Ruan Yang off at the dormitory building, and she headed back to her room.

On her way upstairs, Ruan Yang recalled that a couple of buds on the plant had seemed on the verge of blooming that morning.

In a couple of days, when she went to see Xu Zhiyi, they would probably all be in full bloom.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but as she opened the dormitory door, her eyes fell upon a potted plant.

Ruan Yang froze mid-motion, her hand still on the door.

After staring for a long moment at the plant in the center of the room, its soil waterlogged, its petals battered and scattered by the rain, most of them drooping Ruan Yang finally confirmed:

This was indeed the very plant Xu Zhiyi had given her.

Beside the pot stood Lu Yiye, half of her dress soaked by the rain as well.

Noticing Ruan Yang’s stunned expression, a flicker of something unreadable passed through Lu Yiye’s eyes.

“This afternoon, the sun was so nice,” she said, “I thought I’d take your plant out to get some sunlight. I didn’t expect it to rain and for it to end up like this.”

Her tone sounded genuinely apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Yangyang.”

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