She Said She Has Feelings For Someone - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Group Photo: “High-Spirited Youthfulness”

“High-spirited youthfulness,” huh?

Heh…

Lu Shuyu let out a cold, silent sneer.

“Ah…” Jiang Fei and Zhong Wen both looked a bit disappointed that their hunger for gossip hadn’t been satisfied.

“Alright,” Luo Han picked up a dart. “Let’s hurry up.”

“Do you know why?”

Chi Shan’s sudden question from beside her broke Lu Shuyu through her dark internal spiral.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

Chi Shan arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Do you think I’m stupid? If you didn’t know, why would you have suggested this specific question?”

The questions in the balloons were the result of a collective brainstorming session by the production team. The goal was to find tricky questions that couldn’t be Googled—things the subjects themselves might have forgotten.

While the age of sixteen might not mean much to others, for Xia Leshuang, it was a peak period. At the time, she had a family drama airing across multiple TV stations, and combined with the foundation she’d built as a child star on a national parenting show, she was a household name.

Because of this, the fact that such a dangerous incident happened that year with no trace of it online was baffling. If it weren’t for the team’s trust in Lu Shuyu, the question never would have made the cut.

Lu Shuyu felt a headache coming on. When it happened, only she and Bian Xingyao had been present. Afterward, Xia Leshuang—terrified of worrying her family—had not only used a massive feast as “hush money” but had also acted cute and begged them never to tell a soul…

“Bian Xingyao told my best friend.”

Lu Shuyu shifted the blame once again, but this time she dragged Bian Xingyao into it, feeling a bit shaky about the lie.

“Tsk,” Chi Shan remained skeptical. “Wait until we’ve made this show a hit and we can invite Teacher Bian as a guest! I’m definitely going to ask her!”

“Heh,” Lu Shuyu gave a polite smile. “You’d be better off dreaming about that; it’s faster.”

As a classmate from the same grade and school during high school, Bian Xingyao’s career trajectory had been the best—so good it was almost untouchable. She had moved to Beijing even earlier than Xia Leshuang. After filming her debut drama, she got into the Beijing Film Academy. By her freshman year, her debut work aired, kicking off a “god-mode” career.

Now, Bian Xingyao was a top-tier “traffic” star, holding record-breaking web views in one hand and historical TV ratings in the other.

They wanted to invite her?

Lu Shuyu laughed inwardly. At this point, the only way that would happen is if Xia Leshuang sacrificed her “charms” and used their past relationship to try and pull some strings.

Thinking of this, the smile on her lips gradually faded.

What exactly happened between Xia Leshuang and Bian Xingyao back then?

…

Despite some of the questions being quite difficult, they had plenty of time, and the Jin Jin Tuan successfully completed the dart challenge. Standing at the base of the climbing wall, they stared up at the four-meter-high platform in silence.

“PD Song,” Jiang Fei raised her hand with a pained expression. “I request to watch PD Lu’s highlight reel again.”

Song Yi generously obliged, personally playing the clip of Lu Shuyu’s climb for them.

Watching the twenty-second single-angle footage, Zhong Wen’s face twisted into a mask of agony. “Jiang Fei, I really ‘thank’ you for that. Watching it just made this feel even harder.”

Jiang Fei turned hopeful eyes toward Xia Leshuang and Luo Han. “Shuang-shuang, Sister Han, you guys can do this, right?”

The two looked at each other and shook their heads helplessly.

“It’s fine,” Tang Jiahe patted her. “The climbing segment is calculated based on the fastest person among us. We’ll be okay.”

Every time a segment ended, Song Yi would inform them of the time. He Wenyin did the math: “Yes, Jiahe is right. We have a comfortable cushion for the passing grade—if we finish the climb within forty-seven seconds, we get a five-hundred-second score.”

“I’ll go up first then,” Luo Han said. “Leshuang is more agile than I am; she’s probably better suited for this.”

“Okay,” Xia Leshuang agreed. “Thanks for setting the example, Sister Han.”

With the two physical pillars of the group in agreement, the others had no objections. Once the two were in their safety harnesses, the timer started.

Luo Han used Lu Shuyu’s starting point as a reference. Although it was her first time climbing, she found the right way to exert force and leverage after two tries.

“You’ve got this, Sister Han!” The girls below cheered her on.

Lu Shuyu’s starting point was a good reference, but the large strides she took were hard to replicate. Luo Han looked up, scanning the wall, and found a route that was safer but longer.

“Whoa—” Jiang Fei was excited. “Go, Sister Han! Almost there!”

Luo Han grabbed the edge of the platform and pulled herself up with both arms, barely making it onto the surface.

“Careful!” Xia Leshuang and He Wenyin both gasped.

“I’m okay.” Luo Han panted as she hit the buzzer. Timer stopped.

Song Yi held up the stopwatch. “Forty-nine seconds.”

Luo Han slumped on the platform, looking a bit deflated. “What a shame. Just two seconds off.”

“It’s okay, Sister Han! You were amazing!” Zhong Wen said quickly.

“Yeah, Sister Han was super cool!” Jiang Fei gave a big thumbs up.

Tang Jiahe and He Wenyin were equally generous with their praise. “Incredible!”

Encouraged by her “younger sisters,” Luo Han stood up and spoke to Xia Leshuang, who was carefully studying the wall from below. “Leshuang, I feel like this really needs core strength. You can do it. Don’t feel too much pressure.”

“Okay.” Xia Leshuang nodded, then walked to the opposite side of where Luo Han and Lu Shuyu had started. “If I go up from here, it should be the shortest distance.”

“Ah, but the holds are so far apart over there!”

On this side, the climbing holds were sparse—even Lu Shuyu’s starting point looked dense by comparison.

“I’m a bit taller than PD Lu,” Xia Leshuang mused. “I should be able to reach.”

As soon as she said that, Lu Shuyu clearly heard laughter from beside her, and even Song Yi couldn’t help it.

Lu Shuyu glanced at Chi Shan, whose shoulders were shaking. “Aren’t you being a bit dramatic?”

“No,” Chi Shan covered her mouth, shaking her head. “I just remembered something funny.”

Lu Shuyu rolled her eyes and looked back at the screen at the person who was oblivious and purely focused on winning. That competitive streak was exactly the same as before—which was why reverse psychology had always worked so well on her.

Vaguely, Lu Shuyu realized that Xia Leshuang’s true self was still the same as it was years ago; she had just learned how to disguise it.

Xia Leshuang quickly finalized her strategy. “PD Song, I’m ready.”

Timer started.

As she expected, she started from the sparse side. With her height advantage, she could indeed manage the long gaps between holds. But that advantage soon hit a bottleneck. She got stuck in the middle; the two holds on the bottom left were either too far or too close, and the one on the top left wasn’t high enough to provide much leverage.

She looked up again and saw the furthest hold at the very top—the one closest to the finish line.

Behind the monitor, Lu Shuyu arched an eyebrow and leaned in. “Chi Shan, push in for a close-up.”

Chi Shan complied.

Lu Shuyu could clearly see Xia Leshuang’s eyes; those clear, black-and-white pupils were filled with a certain determination.

“Chen Qian,” Lu Shuyu commanded immediately, “wide shot. She’s going to jump.”

The moment the view switched, Xia Leshuang suddenly crouched low, then leaped upward. Her left hand caught the topmost hold, and her left foot simultaneously found the hold that her left hand had just vacated.

“Whoa—” “Oh my god—”

Exclamations of awe rang out across the set.

In the close-up shot Lu Shuyu had requested moments before, the camera perfectly captured the way Xia Leshuang’s features relaxed with the thrill of success. She looked full of that high-spirited youthfulness.

She didn’t pause there, quickly scrambling up the platform and hitting the buzzer.

“Thirty-nine seconds!” Song Yi announced.

“Ahhhhhhh—!” “Shuang-shuang, you were incredible!!”

Lu Shuyu was momentarily stunned by that flash of youthful energy. Snapping back to reality, she quickly said to Hua Tong, “Get the medical team over here.”

Her voice startled Chi Shan and Song Yi. “What’s wrong?”

Lu Shuyu pointed to the camera on the bottom right. On the monitor, Xia Leshuang’s left arm was held stiffly behind her back, her palm flat and fingers straight, with a subtle, rhythmic tremor.

“It looks like a muscle spasm. Have them check it.”

“Good grief,” Chi Shan said, horrified. “She’s way too intense…”

The medical staff arrived quickly. The other guests didn’t know what had happened, and filming was paused as Song Yi went to check on Xia Leshuang. Fortunately, just as Lu Shuyu predicted, it was only a muscle spasm from a sudden burst of overexertion; the bones were fine and there was no lasting injury.

“I’m sorry,” Xia Leshuang said guiltily. “This kind of thing is actually quite common.”

After a hot compress, her arm was already feeling better.

“Still, that was terrifying,” Song Yi said helplessly. “This is only the first episode. We can’t have a next time.”

“Understood,” Xia Leshuang replied. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“However,” she added curiously, “how did you notice, PD Song?”

“Oh, you can’t ask me that,” Song Yi smiled, a strange glint in her eyes. “You’ll have to ask PD Lu.”

PD Lu…

Xia Leshuang blinked. She naturally wouldn’t press to ask which PD Lu. As Song Yi turned to walk back, Xia Leshuang’s eyes involuntarily followed.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Lu Shuyu still sitting behind the monitors, her expression calm and composed. Only when Song Yi returned did Lu Shuyu offer a smile and say something to her. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

“Alright, let’s resume filming.”

Since it was the first shoot, the production team hadn’t just arranged six segments. With help and encouragement from Xia Leshuang and Luo Han, the other four climbed onto the platform to find a small “Easter egg” the team had set up.

“Wow,” Jiang Fei and Zhong Wen marveled. “It’s the character for ‘Gold’ (Jin).”

“No wonder I felt like we were walking in circles…” Tang Jiahe didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Should we take a photo together in the center of the ‘Gold’?” He Wenyin suggested.

“Great idea!” Jiang Fei waved to the crew below. “Let’s all take one together!”

“Use my phone.”

During the break, Xia Leshuang had asked a staff member to bring her bag, which contained her usual hot water bottle—and her phone.

Thus, the first large group photo of Silence is Gold was born in her hands.

The recording officially ended. As they climbed down from the platform, Xia Leshuang couldn’t resist zooming in on the photo, accurately finding a specific figure in the background.

She never expected this would be their first photo together.

“Shuang-shuang!” Jiang Fei slapped her shoulder from behind. “What are you looking at so intently?”

Xia Leshuang immediately locked her phone. “Our group photo. I’ll send it to the group chat for everyone in a bit.”

“Awesome! I’ll be the first to save it!”