I Was Taken by the Female Lead After Transmigrating into a Book - Chapter 71

This smile gave Bai Feifei a shock, and even the staff on set found it terrifying.

But Li Ke and Huo Wu were almost in sync, one shouting “Cut,” while the other’s hand, which was stroking Bai Feifei’s hair, paused for a moment.

Bai Feifei sensed that the atmosphere was off and looked up blankly, but since it didn’t concern her, she didn’t panic. She even took a deep breath to calm herself.

Huo Wu always smelled nice, but her muscles weren’t very soft, unlike her own. It was fine when she was relaxed, but when she tensed up, the muscles were firm—a very different experience, a kind of tight, comfortable feeling.

And very smooth.

Bai Feifei smiled, her eyes squinting into a comfortable, unconscious line as she drew circles on Huo Wu’s knee with her palm.

Huo Wu’s knee actually had an old injury. It wasn’t serious and had healed well later, not affecting her daily life. It was a lingering issue from a past filming of “Female Leader.”

Back then, supplies on the grasslands were scarce, and the film crew was shooting near a snowy mountain for a period. The temperature was extremely low, and the day-night temperature difference was significant. The round trip to the nearest town by car would take an entire day, and with the treatment time, it would significantly delay the schedule. Even Huo Wu had no special privileges under those circumstances, because every day of delay meant a lot of money wasted. Unexpected problems had to be overcome, otherwise the losses would be immeasurable.

To avoid delaying the entire shoot, Huo Wu could only use medicated patches and painkillers for relief. It was better than nothing, but since she couldn’t rest properly and the area was constantly being strained, she was left with a chronic issue.

Her knee would hurt on rainy days. Huo Wu also rarely wore clothes that exposed her knees in the summer, almost always wearing long pants, because her knee would become very uncomfortable if she entered an air-conditioned room. She described it as feeling like a waterlogged sponge was stuffed inside, a persistent, dull ache.

But a hot compress would provide a lot of relief.

Bai Feifei didn’t have joint problems, so she couldn’t truly empathize with that kind of pain, but it didn’t stop her from noticing the look of suppressed pain on Huo Wu’s face and her attempts to minimize her movements when she was relaxed.

Perhaps Huo Wu’s indulgence of her lately had made her bolder. Bai Feifei not only leaned on her but also rubbed her palm in circles on the spot.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in a small whisper, her hand still moving.

Huo Wu patted her. “Nothing.”

Then she exchanged a glance with Li Ke, signaling for him to continue.

“Again. The emotion is wrong. Teacher Chen, do it one more time,” Li Ke said, frowning as he stared at the monitor.

On the monitor, Wu Qingying and Zhou Yun were both unsure what the problem was or whose emotions were off, but they both adjusted the parts that didn’t work well last time.

But soon after, Li Ke shouted “Cut” again.

After four or five retakes, Li Ke’s face had completely turned cold. Everyone instinctively fell silent, afraid of making him unhappy.

Although he was usually easy to talk to and kind, that was only when he was in the mood. As the person with the most authority in the whole crew, everyone was afraid when he got angry.

“Do you want to watch here for a while or go rest?” Huo Wu turned her head and asked.

As soon as Li Ke announced a 30-minute break, Bai Feifei climbed off Huo Wu’s leg.

—When people are unhappy, seeing someone happy makes them even more unhappy. Bai Feifei didn’t want to get in Li Ke’s way at a time like this.

She hesitated a little.

Filming was very tiring. When they had no scenes, people would usually seize the opportunity to rest. Even a brief nap of ten minutes could restore some energy, which was ultimately for better performance.

She came to watch the two actors film, but now the progress was on hold. Li Ke hadn’t spoken to the actors about the scene, but instead let them figure it out on their own.

Bai Feifei thought, “How can they figure this out?”

If Li Ke put a video in front of her and asked her to point out what was good and what was bad, she would never be able to figure it out, no matter how hard she tried.

But Bai Feifei was also a little hesitant.

Actors often faced similar situations with different directors, and this was one of them. Many directors in the industry were like Li Ke. He liked to discuss with actors and screenwriters and make changes. The script had been continuously revised since they started their group readings.

While ensuring that the plot remained unchanged, the characters became richer, imbued with the actor’s understanding, and more like living, breathing people.

He gave the actors maximum freedom, but similarly, when actors had problems, he would not be direct unless their acting was wildly off-topic.

“Let’s wait here,” Bai Feifei finally said. “I don’t have any scenes this afternoon. I can rest after watching this one.”

Huo Wu said “Okay” upon hearing this.

But waiting was always tiring.

Li Ke temporarily called a meeting with the screenwriting team, and his return became suddenly indefinite. Bai Feifei’s head started nodding as she grew sleepy, and she occasionally came to, wiped her mouth, and then pouted with a sleepy, aggrieved expression.

Her appearance was both cute and funny, but she was by the monitor, with no trees or walls in front or behind her, only precious, expensive machines. There was no place for her to lean on and rest.

The behind-the-scenes camera operator nearby found it endearing and came over with the camera on his shoulder. He suddenly noticed Huo Wu sitting next to Bai Feifei, and in his hesitation, he didn’t get too close. He exchanged a glance with Huo Wu’s personal camera operator in the distance, using his eyes to signal the situation.

The latter’s filming freedom was not high; not many behind-the-scenes clips of Huo Wu were released by the crew. She herself didn’t seem to like her private life being exposed to the public too much, with only a few occasional interview videos from the set, most of which were specific to discussing her craft.

But to film Bai Feifei, Huo Wu would inevitably be in the frame.

After careful consideration, the camera operator didn’t want to give up this material and took the shot with a bold front.

Unexpectedly, Huo Wu didn’t refuse or make a gesture for him to leave. Instead, after Bai Feifei fell asleep on her shoulder, she signaled a “shhh” to the camera.

The camera operator behind her didn’t even dare to breathe, nodding the camera up and down to show that he understood.

Bai Feifei slept for a short while, but in her trance, a very soothing scent lingered in her nostrils. She even had a short dream where she found the raw material for this scent and planted a courtyard full of the flowers at her home, so she could fall asleep to the same fragrance every night.

This beautiful short nap was more rejuvenating than two or three hours of poor sleep.

Bai Feifei regained consciousness first, then gradually heard the noise on the set. It was Li Ke returning, and the staff was asking him about the next steps.

Li Ke told them to prepare the set and then had Wu Qingying walk through the scene alone.

Only then did Wu Qingying realize that she was the one whose emotional response wasn’t what Li Ke wanted.

As expected, after going through it again, Wu Qingying’s response still didn’t satisfy Li Ke.

So, Li Ke said, “Come here.”

Wu Qingying walked up to Li Ke and listened to him explain the scene.

Bai Feifei had just woken up. Her mind was still clear, but her eyes were inevitably a little dazed. Afraid of missing anything, she tilted her head and moved closer, as if doing so would help her hear more clearly.

She even reached up and tugged at the tip of her ear, like patting a misbehaving old TV antenna, as if a tug would help her receive the signal.

Huo Wu felt that watching Bai Feifei’s various movements was more interesting than watching Li Ke explain the scene.

Most of the people in the scene were present, listening, including Zhou Yun. After all, Wu Qingying’s state was related to their scene together. No one wanted to be a burden, and no one wanted to be burdened by others.

Li Ke said, “What’s the current state of Qiyang? You tell me.”

Bai Feifei started to think with them.

In the parts of the plot related to Qiyang, they were usually together. She knew the key parts of the plot, as they were strongly related to Fusang.

She roughly deduced the content of this scene. It should be the last time Qiyang saw Chen Yanfang before she committed suicide by jumping from a building. Shortly after, Qiyang would arrange to meet her in the abandoned building of the old campus to hand over some evidence, and there would be a scene that wasn’t overly dramatic, but was emotionally full and explosive.

If she were to play Qiyang, what would her reaction be?

The teacher she once saw as her guiding light in life, her only hope and salvation, had become the heaviest and most difficult obstacle on her path to seeking help. She knew this teacher valued her son’s future most, and also knew this person liked her, would even secretly follow her from another school after class, and would take photos of her.

So, she used her own method to turn a seemingly consensual relationship into a forced one.

Not only that.

Qiyang’s family had a history of hereditary mental illness, and some of the medication was controlled. The dosage for each person was restricted because it was highly addictive, and had even been banned from circulation on the market. From the moment she conceived this plan, Qiyang had been hiding the medicine. With the help of Zhao Qiyue, she had accumulated a sufficient dose to become addicted.

Because of this, what seemed like a simple, forced relationship also became something more serious, like drug abuse.

She knew she couldn’t escape the consequences, but it didn’t matter. Her goal had been achieved. So, in the end, she was happy, joyful. But this happiness was mixed with the madness of mutual destruction and avenging a great wrong.

However, this scene had not yet reached the final conclusion.

Wu Qingying frowned and said her answer: “Madness.”

Bai Feifei thought, “It’s madness, but something seems to be missing.”

Qiyang was actually very smart. She had been at the top of her class since she was a child. It was after the second year of high school, under the deliberate and indulgent bullying of her homeroom teacher, that her grades inevitably began to slide, and she became a “prey.”

Although her grades declined, her intelligence did not. It was just that she could no longer focus her energy on studying, and her mind was filled with various strong emotions.

To achieve her plan, she had to maintain absolute clarity of mind. So, she made all her arrangements under an absolutely sober and rational state.

She might not have calculated that Chen Yanfang would come to find her today, but she must have known that Chen Yanfang would come—and as long as she came, it proved that Chen Yanfang had been pushed to her limit.

Because her idea had been ‘guided’ by someone.

Everything finally came full circle. So Qiyang’s smile at this moment shouldn’t be one that makes the audience feel a sense of dread. Instead, it should contain more emotion—a deeper bitterness, and the satisfaction and emptiness of having achieved her goal.

Bai Feifei was like a child who had found the answer but was afraid to say it. She wiggled her butt as if it were on fire, and finally just tugged on Huo Wu’s sleeve.

Huo Wu looked at her with a questioning expression.

Bai Feifei mouthed, “I…”

Just as she was about to say the word, she heard Li Ke say, “Correct, but not entirely.”

Afraid of disturbing Li Ke, Bai Feifei was forced to close her mouth just as she was about to say the word “I.” She was depressed, feeling like she had the answer but couldn’t say it. She pouted her mouth but kept looking at Huo Wu.

Li Ke continued, “A sixteen or seventeen-year-old high school student who chooses to use her own body, her future, and even her death to take revenge on those who once harmed her—she is crazy, but at the same time, she must maintain absolute rationality. Otherwise, this act of revenge cannot be executed.”

Wu Qingying contemplated this and hummed in agreement.

Li Ke gave her time to think.

Bai Feifei’s guess was confirmed by Li Ke. She immediately looked up, wanting to wag her tail at Huo Wu in a show of pride, but she saw Huo Wu look left and right. Seeing that everyone’s attention was on Li Ke and no one was paying attention to her for the moment, Huo Wu quickly pursed her lips in a subtle puckered motion from a distance. The movement was so slight that if Bai Feifei hadn’t been watching her the whole time, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the tiny gesture.

Bai Feifei was stunned.

She wondered if it was her imagination. She felt that Huo Wu’s movement just now didn’t look like a simple stretch of the muscles around her lips, nor did it look like the kind of cute pout that she would make.

—The movement looked, in every way, like a blown kiss from a person with a face that said, ‘I can’t help you.’

Bai Feifei’s instincts understood her before her consciousness did. She silently mouthed the word “I” again.

This time, as soon as her mouth began to move, Huo Wu reached out and pinched it.

Bai Feifei blinked, and heard Huo Wu whisper in her ear, “Be a good girl, don’t make trouble.”