The Movie Queen's Virtual Little Girlfriend - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Push Notification

After discussing script issues with Fang Qing for over half an hour, Jiang Yitong saw her nodding as if having reached an epiphany and lowering her head to scribble in her notebook. Jiang Yitong took out her phone to check the time, then stood up and walked toward the door.

When she explained acting, she always became so immersed that she ignored the passage of time; thus, she hadn’t realized that so much time had slipped away unnoticed.

Seeing Jiang Yitong preparing to leave, Shen Si immediately followed, leaving Fang Qing alone in the room. Fang Qing turned back to look at the door, but she was only in time to see Shen Si’s silhouette as she closed the door; Jiang Yitong was walking briskly and had already vanished from sight.

The indoors and outdoors were two extreme worlds—warm inside and freezing outside. Jiang Yitong wrapped her coat tightly. She handed the script to Shen Si to hold temporarily while she buttoned up first; at the very least, it could block out some of the chill. Taking the script back from Shen Si, Jiang Yitong walked along the small path toward the bamboo forest filming site.

Her feet stepped across square stone slabs, with trees planted on both sides. The wind howled in her ears, blowing the leaves into a messy, rustling frenzy. The path was dimly lit, exuding an eerie vibe everywhere, but Jiang Yitong and Shen Si behind her walked with calm composure. The further they walked, the clearer the sound of human voices became.

Shen Si followed behind Jiang Yitong, always maintaining a distance of about two meters, quietly observing her from top to bottom and back again. She had been Jiang Yitong’s assistant for over three years now. Logically, she should be the person who knew Jiang Yitong best besides her family and her manager, Feng Man. Yet even today, she could say that her understanding of Jiang Yitong was at most one-tenth—perhaps even less.

She was an executive assistant, not a personal life assistant. Aside from waiting for scenes on set, traveling to the hotel, or waiting during other scheduled appointments, she had never seen what Jiang Yitong looked like in her private life.

Thus, in these three-plus years, her temporary understanding of Jiang Yitong could be summarized by two terms: one was “drama obsessed,” and the other was “indifferent.”

If there were only one person left in this industry who insisted on filming, Shen Si felt that person would absolutely be Jiang Yitong. Jiang Yitong’s obsession with acting was something that even she, after three years, still frequently sighed over. As for her indifference in these years, Shen Si had rarely seen her smile. Even breaking character or laughing on set was extremely rare. Consequently, Shen Si had wondered countless times in her heart: among the major human emotions, is there someone born naturally lacking “joy” and “happiness”?

She had never found an answer to this doubt.

The person known as Jiang Yitong was easy to see through, yet forever impossible to see through. What could be seen through was her love for her profession; what remained opaque was her as a person. Thus, she was both mysterious and charming.

Three or four minutes later, Jiang Yitong and Shen Si crossed the small path and arrived at a wide clearing. It was crowded with crew members. Jiang Yitong scanned the crowd, her gaze finally resting on a small, dark-green shed. Knowing that Director Cheng Dong was bound to be inside that shed, she walked over.

Shortly after 8:00 PM, the night scenes began. Jiang Yitong took off her coat and straightened her back in the cold wind, standing tall and upright. She had several fight scenes in this bamboo forest; these scenes were indeed quite difficult and served as a challenge for her.

During the three months of her previous project, she would always find time to practice martial arts with a teacher, and she would continue practicing in her hotel room at night. In the month after that project wrapped—aside from one award ceremony—she had no other appointments. So, during that month, her days consisted of nothing but reading the script and practicing martial arts, moving between her home and the martial arts school to prepare for this current drama.

Before this action scene began, she walked through the choreography several times with several stunt actors. The stuntmen praised her movements for becoming more precise with every pass. When official filming started, it was a “one-take” success; the fight was clean and crisp, without a single flaw to be found. After watching the playback, Cheng Dong clapped and cheered again, not holding back his praise for Jiang Yitong at all.

Around 10:30 PM, the night filming concluded, and the crew’s work for the entire day ended there.

During this time, the late-night barbecue snacks Feng Man bought had already been distributed to everyone. Almost everyone had a share, though some who were dieting or had no appetite declined her kindness. Jiang Yitong belonged to the latter group. Although she had worked up a sweat from the action scenes and her dinner had long since digested, she truly had no desire to eat, even with the fragrant barbecue sitting right before her.

Feng Man ate some late-night snacks herself. During the breaks in filming, she sat beside Jiang Yitong, leaning over a paper bag and eating with gusto. After finishing one skewer, she picked up another and held it before Jiang Yitong’s eyes, asking again if she wanted some. Jiang Yitong didn’t even look at it, gently shaking her head and saying she wasn’t eating—really, she wasn’t. After being rejected twice, Feng Man stopped asking and finished all the skewers and grilled vegetables on the small table by herself. Jiang Yitong glanced at her occasionally; she wasn’t amazed by the speed at which the food was demolished, but she could see that Feng Man was truly hungry.

Just like the night before, many fans were standing at the hotel entrance. Jiang Yitong waved to them as usual after getting out of the car, but she similarly wrapped herself in the darkness, preventing everyone from seeing her face clearly.

Feng Man stood to the side, saying, “Thank you for your hard work,” and sincerely hoping everyone would stop waiting in the future. On one hand, winter nights were too cold; if one accidentally caught a chill and fell ill, they would be the ones suffering. Regardless, the most important thing was one’s own health. On the other hand, no one knew exactly when Jiang Yitong would finish work each night. If it was early, she might finish around seven or eight and return to the hotel; if it was a late night, it might be like yesterday, not returning until two or three in the morning. Crouching at the hotel entrance wasted too much time and energy.

She said the same thing every two or three days. Perhaps some people actually listened, yet the number of girls coming here to see Jiang Yitong off work never seemed to decrease. She grew weary of giving such reminders, and not just verbally—she had mentioned it on Weibo as well, but it seemed her words as a manager carried little weight among the fans.

It wasn’t just Feng Man; this was naturally the last thing Jiang Yitong wanted to see. First, she hoped everyone could focus more on themselves; second, she simply didn’t like the feeling of being surrounded and crowded by people. She had expressed her thoughts on Weibo before; although it was only a few words, her attitude was clear. Unfortunately, the result wasn’t much different from Feng Man’s attempts. She knew the fans saw her as a star in the sky, but she initially only felt like an animal being spectated.

Regarding this, Feng Man threw up her hands helplessly, saying that with such a large fan base, there would always be a portion who wouldn’t listen to advice. Jiang Yitong had nothing to say and simply remained silent; naturally, she wouldn’t waste more time on this issue, going off without a word to do other things that were more meaningful to her.

Returning to her room, it wasn’t too late—just past 11:00 PM. Setting down her belongings, Jiang Yitong sat on the small sofa, the back of her neck resting against the top of the sofa. She tilted her head back toward the ceiling and closed her eyes, resting for a moment.

The moment she closed her eyes, fatigue seemed to surge up twofold, dragging her down. Her temples throbbed slightly, and she raised her hand to press and rub her temples with her thumb and middle index finger. She had worked up a sweat tonight and then faced the cold wind; perhaps this uncomfortable feeling originated from that, but she believed it would improve after some rest.

After leaning on the sofa for a while, Jiang Yitong was about to get up when the pocket of her coat suddenly vibrated. This kind of subtle vibration was easy to overlook, but the current environment was so quiet that the singular “buzz” became clear. Jiang Yitong didn’t think anyone would message her at this hour—at most it would be Feng Man or Shen Si. If it wasn’t a WeChat message from them, it was likely just an advertisement notification.

She was reluctant to reach for her phone, but thinking she had to take it out anyway before taking off her coat to shower, she slowly reached over. Her fingertip brushed the screen, and it lit up automatically.

She saw a single notification on the white screen:

Yitong, are you off work?

It was indeed an advertisement notification, more accurately, a game push notification from “A Grain of Red Bean.” The app icon on the left of the notification bar was familiar. The sentence was preceded by a name, indicating the person who said it. Thus, Jiang Yitong saw the name she was familiar with.

Jiang’er.

It was indeed she who had given that girl her name, but everything else was not of her creation.

Regarding this line of text, Jiang Yitong didn’t have many thoughts. She had intended to swipe left to delete the notification, but instead, she accidentally tapped it. The screen jumped, and she was quickly transitioned into the game interface.

In fact, Jiang Yitong could have closed the game immediately, but since she had already entered, she might as well take another look; she wasn’t in a rush.

A few seconds later, Jiang’er’s face appeared in her sight again. The background was still the head of a bed, with warm yellow lighting. She was wearing the same small floral pajamas as yesterday, her long hair falling down. She had tucked the strands by her temples behind her ears, and her smooth bangs lightly touched her forehead. Her eyes flickered, “gazing” at Jiang Yitong outside the screen with an obedient demeanor.

“Yitong, I haven’t received any messages from you. Work is very busy, right? How about now? Are you off work?”

The text on the notification had been truncated, leaving only the beginning and end, but it was complete upon entering the game. Jiang Yitong didn’t have the volume on, so she once again specifically went back to listen.

Jiang’er’s soft, slightly deep voice called her name like a river on a spring night, a warm breezes blowing, gurgling with life, the water clear and crisp, reflecting the stars and moon. Every time she heard Jiang’er call “Yitong,” it always gave her this strange illusion, strange yet eerie, real yet fake. Complex feelings intertwined, making her feel dizzy.

Jiang Yitong replied: Mhm.

“Coming off work so late, you must be tired, right?” The worry and heartache in Jiang’er’s eyes were very real, and her affection for Jiang Yitong also seemed authentic.

But Jiang Yitong understood that Jiang’er’s feelings weren’t specifically directed at her. If any other player were in front of the screen, Jiang’er would have the same attitude. She wasn’t special; she wasn’t the unique one.

She was thinking about what a dating game was really about, feeling that, to put it bluntly, it was just about earning money from this specific audience.

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