The Fake Daughter is a Max-Level Green Tea [Transmigrated into a Book] - Chapter 41

Chapter 41: A Sudden Addition

Falling in love is like a firework blooming in a deep autumn sky without moon or stars—spectacular and ostentatious, surpassing everything else. The lingering stardust after the explosion reflects in the eyes, filling the gaze with its shimmering remains.

Before seeing Xiang Yunchen tonight, Xu Mulin never expected the girl could be this beautiful. Compared to those relatively vulgar beauties built up with layers of heavy makeup, this “hibiscus rising from the water” look left a much deeper impression. In a gathering of countless people, Cinderella had become a landscape—not the flashiest, but certainly the most eye-catching.

As the dance music began, Xu Mulin, who had politely declined most invitations, slowly bent her knee and extended her hand toward Xiang Yunchen. It was only then that Xiang Yunchen realized in hindsight why she had suddenly dressed in men’s clothing—Senior Xu’s popularity was truly immense. Of the many people moving about, nearly half wanted to find her to dance, and most were men. Men dancing social dances with other men would look a bit strange; dressing as a man perfectly avoided most of the trouble.

Yet, she had pushed aside everyone else’s invitations just to wear Cinderella’s clothes and share a dance with her.

Xu Mulin took her waist and slowly led her into the sea of people.

“Cut!”

Ji Xiuyuan’s shout came so abruptly that Lin Chumu stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. Fortunately, Lu Chaoqing caught her, preventing a public embarrassment, though a faint blush appeared on Lin Chumu’s face.

The scene described in the script was indeed beautiful—two girls changing their steps under the auditorium lights to the music was a rare sight. Unfortunately, the only one who could dance was Lu Chaoqing. Lin Chumu’s knowledge of dance and music was limited to a basic level of appreciation; actually performing was difficult for her.

Moreover, they were performing a relatively difficult style: the Waltz.

Ji Xiuyuan was usually very strict with actors, but he could be a bit more lenient regarding skills that weren’t strictly part of an actor’s core training. Seeing that Lin Chumu was indeed trying her best, he acknowledged that the Waltz isn’t something everyone can pick up instantly: “Chumu, can you do it? If not, we can swap in a body double.”

Lin Chumu vetoed the idea immediately: “I want to try again.”

Unless absolutely necessary, she didn’t want to use a double. Especially since this was her first project, she wanted to do her best. She didn’t believe her dance cells were that bad; besides, using a double and relying on editing to stitch faces together never looked as good as the real thing.

Lu Chaoqing had stopped to drink some water and heard Lin Chumu’s refusal.

She wasn’t surprised.

The Lin Chumu described in the plot was an uncompromising “Iron Woman.” She was proud to her core and refused to admit defeat easily. She was the type of person who would prefer to do her own dangerous stunts in an action movie rather than use a double, let alone a small matter like this that could be achieved with effort.

The director naturally didn’t dislike a student who was eager to learn; he loved that professional spirit. After Lin Chumu’s refusal, he had the dance instructor demonstrate one more time. Her movements became much more standard than before, but they still hadn’t reached the “line” Ji Xiuyuan required. After another round of coordination and communication, things still felt a bit off.

“Sigh, this…”

As the director frowned with an expression of “having a toothache,” Lu Chaoqing stepped up at the right time: “How about I lead? I’ll take the initiative and have Xu Mulin follow. Would that be better?”

It was essentially swapping the Prince and Princess’s footwork. Although the Waltz is a partnership, it would likely be easier if Lin Chumu accepted her guidance rather than taking the lead.

“That works.”

With no other choice, the director let them try swapping steps.

Wearing high heels that made her almost the same height as Lin Chumu, the girl gave a playful wink. The moment the music started, she gripped Lin Chumu’s waist. With a pivot of her toes and a swirl of her hips, the “Prince” in men’s clothing was pulled into her embrace. The slender heels didn’t affect Lu Chaoqing’s performance much; she had adapted to them as soon as she put them on. As a former main dancer of a girl group, this level of skill was easy.

The rhythmic, light music flowed through the hall. Under Xiang Yunchen’s dominant guidance, Xu Mulin went from stumbling to finding her rhythm, even attempting to reverse and lead the other’s movements back. The lights reflected softly on both women’s hair. The corners of Xiang Yunchen’s eyes were painted with pearlescent eyeshadow, looking as bright as rainbow dust in the shadows.

The clapperboard snapped, and Ji Xiuyuan finally gave a satisfied “Pass.”

“Good performance in this scene,” Ji Xiuyuan said with a smile.

He was the type who was strict but never stingy with praise; he complimented good work and scolded bad work. Because he was straightforward and fair, many actors loved working with him. Initially, he had taken on Lu Chaoqing largely because of Jiang Yanqiu’s recommendation, but now he actually had the thought of collaborating with her again.

Although this girl hadn’t acted before and wasn’t professionally trained, she was truly gifted. Every move showed she was immersing herself in the character rather than forcing herself into it.

Lin Chumu went without saying. The Central Academy’s strictness across all majors was top-tier in the country; graduating from there was a professional guarantee. At the very least, she could easily carry a drama that wasn’t a dead-serious historical epic.

“Miss Lu, shall we add each other on WeChat?”

Seeing the situation, the assistant asked perceptively. When Lu Chaoqing first joined the crew, he had only handled her logistics in a business-like manner without adding her personally. Now that the director showed interest in future collaborations, he naturally had to take it seriously.

Ji Xiuyuan was a famous director in the industry; having this connection was better than her trying to struggle and find opportunities on her own. Lu Chaoqing naturally agreed with pleasure. Over there, Fang Qiuqi and Qiao Shuo’s scenes had also ended. The two walked over while wiping away sweat. Qiao Shuo was still a bit reserved around people he didn’t know well, but Fang Qiuqi was completely different.

Just as Lu Chaoqing’s sharp eyes spotted their hands briefly intertwined, Fang Qiuqi let go of Qiao Shuo and rushed over. With a face full of amazement, she tugged at Lu Chaoqing’s puff sleeves and touched her wig. The cold-looking Best Actress put on no airs in private, making no effort to hide her love for Lu Chaoqing’s look: “Xiao Qing, you’re so cute! You really have that Cinderella vibe! Is there a playback of the scene? Let me see! I want to see Cinderella dancing with the Prince!”

As she spoke, Fang Qiuqi kept “rua-ing” (mussing/petting) Lu Chaoqing’s high-quality blonde wig, then slung an arm around her shoulder.

The director led his assistant away to pull up the footage. Once they were gone, Lin Chumu’s gaze flickered coldly toward the hand on Lu Chaoqing’s shoulder. Her eyes darted between Fang Qiuqi and Qiao Shuo: “Doesn’t your ‘person’ get jealous?”

Seemingly not expecting her budding romance to be seen through, Fang Qiuqi’s fingertips retracted as if burned. She glanced at the slightly flustered Qiao Shuo, laughed off the remark, and was then called away by the director.

Qiao Shuo collected his emotions and looked down at Lu Chaoqing: “We have a three-person scene this afternoon. Let’s run through it in a bit.”

“I heard from Qiuqi that you want to release K-pop music and need an arranger. I have a gap in my schedule after this; I can help if you need.”

Within a single day, she had received olive branches from a famous director and a top-tier male idol. Lu Chaoqing was nearly stunned by this sudden influx of resources. At the time, she didn’t even realize that Qiao Shuo was treating her as Fang Qiuqi’s close friend—essentially confirming their relationship. She only excitedly thanked him repeatedly.

This was Qiao Shuo! The peak of the new generation of singers!

His fanbase was arguably the largest among new singers in the country. She didn’t even think about how much traffic this would bring her; she was just excited that his arranging quality was recognized by countless professionals.

Lu Chaoqing was floating on air with excitement.

It wasn’t until that night, when she met Jiang Yanqiu who had rushed back to the set, that her joy turned to “sorrow.”

“A bed scene?? Didn’t you say there were no bed scenes? Why are we adding one suddenly? Are you sure it’ll pass censorship!?”

Besides, wasn’t Jiang Yanqiu’s character supposed to like Lin Chumu? Even if she didn’t anymore, could her character setting collapse so thoroughly that she’d watch Lin Chumu film a bed scene with someone else?

“Actually, it’s not the kind of bed scene you’re thinking of. It’s just the two of you chatting under the covers. Both characters have had a bit to drink. In the hazy, romantic light, Xiang Yunchen finally hooks her arm around Xu Mulin’s neck and plants a kiss just below her lip. She wants more, but doesn’t dare proceed for fear of rejection. That kiss is purely a heat-of-the-moment impulse. The camera cuts off right there. It needs that ‘near yet far’ hazy feeling—the kiss is a flash, but it must be sufficiently ambiguous.”

Sitting next to the director, Jiang Yanqiu spoke with righteous conviction: “This is the moment to strike while the iron is hot. I think this is the best place for their feelings to escalate. Xu Mulin needs to realize that Xiang Yunchen’s liking for her isn’t just a simple junior-senior thing. She’s a bit flustered and wants to escape, but subconsciously, her heart is fluttering.”

“And Xiang Yunchen senses that flutter, knowing her ‘fish’ has finally taken the bait.”

The director listened intently, taking notes occasionally. He turned to look at the second and third female leads who had been called over. He didn’t treat sub-plots carelessly; as long as the details were well-refined, he would include them.

“I think this is quite good”, Ji Xiuyuan said. “Xiao Lu, Xiao Lin, why don’t you two go try it out tonight? I’m not asking you to act out that feeling perfectly right now, but I want to see it tomorrow. You must immerse yourselves in those emotions while the iron is hot. Don’t be restricted by your actual identities.”

Lu Chaoqing thought back to a certain “social death” incident involving her psychological trauma and was about to refuse, when the assistant director nodded in agreement. He even offered some advice: “Exactly. If all else fails, just treat it like you’re running through a ‘night scene.’ Won’t that taboo, ambiguous feeling come naturally then?”