The Exclusive Bodyguard of the Top Idol - Chapter 46
“We’re here to scout locations and film some establishing shots of the training grounds, along with scenes of their training sessions,” the assistant director explained to the coaches in charge. “Of course, we’ll only shoot in areas you permit. If anything involves confidentiality, we definitely won’t set up there. We’ve already discussed with the provincial SWAT team leaders and marked out a few filming spots. Could you take a look?”
Ji Qingshi took the map handed to her by the assistant director and scanned it. The proposed filming locations were all standard training areas, occasionally including places like the cafeteria, nothing involving classified information.
“Alright, no issues here. We’ll do our best to cooperate,” Ji Qingshi said. “How many scenes are there in total? How long will they be staying here for training?”
These specific scheduling details had only been finalized in the latest shooting schedule, which Ji Qingshi hadn’t received prior notice about.
The assistant director replied, “The entire shoot will take three weeks. The first week will be intensive training to help them adjust to the environment, and the remaining two weeks will focus on filming. There are over thirty scenes to shoot at the training base, covering all the training-ground-related content for the entire production.”
Ji Qingshi thought for a moment before asking, “And after that? The movie can’t just have the training grounds as the only setting. Will you need our help with larger-scale scenes later?”
“Ah, normally, no. For these three weeks at the base, we’d like to ask the instructors not to go easy on them. Try to instill in them the mindset of acting like qualified SWAT officers.”
The instructors behind Ji Qingshi exchanged glances. Honestly, that request seemed a bit demanding. These people weren’t actual SWAT officers. Wasn’t it too much to expect them to be trained up in just three weeks?
They felt the production team was asking for the impossible, but Ji Qingshi nodded anyway. She had noticed the assistant director’s phrasing: “instill in them the mindset of acting like SWAT officers.” The standard wasn’t to actually train them into qualified SWAT members, which made it much more achievable.
“Got it. Thanks for your hard work,” Ji Qingshi said.
“Oh, no, Captain Ji, the pleasure’s all ours,” the assistant director waved his hands dismissively before extending an invitation. “Shall we grab dinner together?”
Ji Qingshi thought of Ren Jiao and instinctively wanted to refuse, but after a brief pause, she nodded. “Sure.”
Ren Jiao would hear the dormitory assembly call and head to the cafeteria with An’An and the others. There was no need for Ji Qingshi to go back specifically to accompany her. It would make it seem like she cared too much.
Ren Jiao waited in the women’s dormitory, but even after the assembly call sounded and An’An came to fetch her, Ji Qingshi still hadn’t returned. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t disappointed, but she couldn’t show it. Besides, her mindset had shifted recently, becoming much better at self-comfort.
Ji Qingshi must be busy with the meeting. As the captain of the sniper unit, she had a lot on her plate every day. It wasn’t like she could just drop everything to accompany Ren Jiao the moment she arrived.
She quickly talked herself out of her disappointment and followed An’An out to assemble.
The women’s dormitory housed not just members of the sniper unit but also those from other teams. Everyone had heard that celebrities were staying there today, and during assembly, necks craned and whispers spread as people tried to catch a glimpse.
“I heard the visiting celebrities went to the reconnaissance, assault, and sniper teams. So envious, we didn’t get any here.”
“Ahem! What are you all doing? Can’t even stand in formation properly?”
Award-winning actress Xu Xin, who played the female lead, joined the reconnaissance team, while two other actresses were assigned to the assault team.
When An’An led Ren Jiao down to assemble, the initial wave of commotion in the ranks had just subsided. Xu Xin’s fame was so high that many were thrilled to see her, with some even asking for autographs though the deputy team leaders in charge of the female dorm quickly put a stop to that.
When Ren Jiao appeared, another small stir erupted. She was currently the hottest female idol, with a fanbase dominated by young people. Given that many of the new recruits in the SWAT team were in their early twenties, plenty recognized her.
The sniper team alone had quite a few of her fans, especially with An’An, a devoted supporter, constantly sharing her enthusiasm. Even those who weren’t initially interested ended up following along, becoming casual fans at the very least.
Now that Ren Jiao had actually joined them, the younger members of the sniper team stood ramrod straight, eager to leave a strong impression on their idol.
Once the female dorm members had assembled, their respective leaders led them to the cafeteria. The cafeteria wasn’t far. Located roughly between the male and female dorm and they marched there in formation every day.
The last time Ren Jiao had worn camouflage training gear and marched in line to a cafeteria was during her middle school military training. She never had the chance to attend high school, let alone university, so her only experience with military drills was during the transition from elementary to middle school. Memories that had long since faded.
Who would have thought that at 20, after years of working in the entertainment industry, she’d relive “military training” like a freshman just starting college?
At the cafeteria, they had to stand in formation a little longer. After the leader called “At ease,” everyone relaxed and started chatting.
An’An stood beside Ren Jiao, whispering to her, while the surrounding teammates quickly gathered around. They were all young, and the lively chatter quickly broke the ice.
“Jiaojiao, how long are you training with us this time?”
“Three weeks.”
“Ah, only three weeks?”
“You sound disappointed. Does she not have actual work to do?”
“Is this for a new role? Are you planning to transition into acting?”
Faced with such enthusiasm, Ren Jiao felt a surge of happiness. These people weren’t just her fans, they were also Ji Qingshi’s teammates. Through them, she could learn more about the side of Ji Qingshi she didn’t usually see.
“I’m trying, but transitioning isn’t guaranteed to go smoothly.” She couldn’t say too much about her future plans. Cen Shu had specifically reminded her before departure.
“What about the group? Will you all gradually do fewer activities together?”
Ren Jiao laughed.
“The group will always be our top priority.”
She didn’t make any grand promises. After all, future career paths weren’t entirely up to her. Cen Shu had long-term plans for each of the seven members, and she couldn’t guarantee anything. But the group was their home in the entertainment industry. They had met in their youth and weathered storms together. The group wouldn’t disband that much she was certain of.
After a lively discussion, the deputy team leader called them in to eat, and they swarmed into the cafeteria like a hive of bees.
An’An guided Ren Jiao inside, securing a corner table before heading off to get their food.
“Do we always have to queue up like this to get to the cafeteria every day in the team?” Ren Jiao asked, holding her tray. “It feels like military training.”
An’an replied, “Most of the time, yes. But not on rest days, during missions, or when we’re on patrol duty.”
“Patrol?”
“Yeah, sometimes during special large-scale events, we get assigned to patrol and maintain order in crowded areas.”
Ren Jiao understood. Just like when they held concerts in Shanghai, where the crowds around the venue were so dense that special police patrol cars would be stationed at nearby intersections.
As she ate, Ren Jiao chatted with An’an while keeping an eye on the people entering the cafeteria. When she spotted a familiar figure at the door, her eyes instantly lit up.
Noticing her gaze, An’an turned and saw their team leader walk in with a slightly plump middle-aged man, followed by several leaders from other teams.
“Who’s that man? A leader from your production crew?”
Ren Jiao nodded. “He’s the assistant director. He’s the one coordinating with your team this time.”
“Oh, so the director isn’t coming? Aren’t you filming later?”
“Yeah, he’ll come, but only when filming starts about a week from now. The director’s really busy.”
As they spoke, they noticed people sitting down at a round table nearby. Ji Qingshi had brought the group over.
An’an immediately straightened up, whispering with a pained expression, “Eat quickly, then let’s get out of here. I don’t know what Captain Ji was thinking, bringing a bunch of leaders to sit near us. It’s so awkward.”
Ren Jiao stifled a laugh, surprised that An’an was the type to get nervous around superiors.
But while An’an didn’t realize it, Ren Jiao could guess Ji Qingshi’s intentions whether she was overthinking it or not, she felt Ji Qingshi wanted to sit closer to her.
Whether her guess was right or not, the assistant director spotted her and immediately waved her over.
Now An’an’s face twisted like a bitter gourd squeezed dry. She couldn’t just stay seated, but following Ren Jiao over wasn’t an option either.
Finally, after a brief glance from Ji Qingshi, An’an knew exactly what to do and reluctantly followed.
The two had already finished eating, but because the assistant director wanted to chat with Ren Jiao, they ended up sitting at the leaders’ table a while longer.
Ji Qingshi had people on either side of her, so Ren Jiao sat far away but conveniently within sight. Every time she looked up, she could see Ji Qingshi, and even when the assistant director spoke to her, her peripheral vision lingered on Ji Qingshi.
Ji Qingshi was particularly sensitive to this. She noticed the moment Ren Jiao’s gaze first landed on her but kept her expression neutral, maintaining a detached demeanor.
Unbeknownst to her, this act was overdone. She didn’t want Ren Jiao to easily detect her feelings, but her unusually stern expression, so different from her usual self made An’an inwardly suspicious.
As they left the cafeteria, An’an whispered to Ren Jiao, “I don’t know who pissed off our captain today. She’s never like this. Her face was especially grim. You’d think someone owed her money.”
Hearing her complain about Ji Qingshi, Ren Jiao couldn’t help but smile. No one owed her money, but there was someone who owed a little “emotional debt” and that person had just been sitting across from her during the meal.
After returning to the dormitory, Ren Jiao bid An’An goodbye and headed up to the third floor. Hearing there was no training scheduled for the evening, she decided to go back to her room to tidy up. She deliberately left the door open, ready to lie in wait for Ji Qingshi.
Ji Qingshi didn’t return late. Ren Jiao heard movement in the hallway by eight o’clock. She quickly stepped out and happened to see Ji Qingshi unlocking the door next door.
“Good evening, sister.”
Ji Qingshi’s hand paused on the doorknob. The sight before her made her momentarily dazed, as if she had been transported back to those few months when they had spent every day together, inseparable. Whether she had gone out for a run or run errands alone, Ren Jiao would always greet her like this when she returned.
Ji Qingshi didn’t know if Ren Jiao was doing this deliberately to reawaken her nostalgia for those months, but she had to admit her heart was stirring. She couldn’t forget the beauty of that time, just as she couldn’t let go of these feelings.
“Good evening.” After a few seconds of eye contact, Ji Qingshi suddenly smirked, as if remembering something, and said, “Get some rest early.”