We Are Filthy, Born From Mud - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Yes, She Fears Uncertainty. Zong Yougu Squats on the Set…

Zong Yougu was squatting on the set, which was arranged as a classroom.

The very first scene to be filmed for the opening was the sequence where Yu Yulai is lured to the rooftop by Lin Lingwan. She had waited for a long time, yet there was no sign of that “Quan He” arriving.

She let out a sigh. In the past, she was the one who acted willfully; now, she finally understood how annoying people who are irresponsible and have no sense of time can be. In her heart, she cursed Quan He several times for acting like a big shot—no, a small shot acting big. Zong Yougu’s legs had gone numb from squatting, yet the girl hadn’t shown up. Zong Yougu was the lead, after all; there was no reason to make the lead wait for a supporting character.

“Director… I’m sorry,” someone who looked like an assistant panted heavily. “Director Chunming, Miss Quan He is so nervous that she has diarrhea. She might not be able to complete today’s shoot.”

Zong Yougu rolled her eyes internally, but her smile remained perfectly maintained. She spoke up before Wan Chunming could: “Ah, that sounds serious. Is she running a fever too?”

Her tone of concern sounded genuine.

“Eh? How did you know? Miss Quan He indeed has a fever,” the assistant blinked in surprise.

This time, Zong Yougu didn’t roll her eyes internally; she laughed wildly in her mind, which caused an involuntary smile to creep onto her face. However, to an outsider, this smile probably looked more like a “skin-deep” smirk, utterly mocking. Fortunately, no one was paying attention to her at that moment.

“Director!” The classroom door was pushed open again, this time by someone from the production crew. “Director, Miss Quan He’s symptoms are quite severe. We’ve decided to send her to the hospital for a check-up. It shouldn’t be anything major, but if something actually happens, it’ll be a big deal.”

“Eh?” Zong Yougu froze, bowing her head in embarrassment.

It turned out she had judged a person’s heart with her own petty mind. She let out a couple of silly laughs.

“Alright, tell her not to worry and to recover slowly,” the director instructed. “How did she get sudden diarrhea? Did she eat something bad? I need to tell the actors to watch their diet these few days.”

“It’s like this…” the assistant said, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “Sister Quan He had some insomnia last night, so I brought her some milk. I didn’t realize she was lactose intolerant. She’s been having diarrhea since the early hours. It’s my fault.”

“Just be careful next time. Go back and check on her condition; I’ll rearrange the shooting schedule,” Wan Chunming said.

Wan Chunming waved her hand, and as soon as Quan He’s assistant left, the smile vanished from her face. She was in a bind. In Zong Yougu’s current schedule, only this first meeting scene with Quan He was relatively easy; the remaining scenes were all difficult, either requiring stunts or high emotional stakes.

She had originally intended to wait a couple of days for Zong Yougu to get into character before filming them, as she didn’t want to put too much psychological pressure on her. But she also didn’t want to waste an entire day.

“Today might be a bit taxing for you,” Wan Chunming sighed.

Zong Yougu stood up from the floor nonchalantly. “Acting is never about ‘taxing’ or not,” she said.

Wan Chunming smiled and said with some confusion, “Why are you so easy to talk to? I was prepared for a struggle. After all, when He Gui mentioned you, aside from the praise, her face was full of exhaustion.”

Zong Yougu wore an innocent smile.

Wan Chunming spread out the script and pointed with her finger. “Can you do this scene?”

This scene took place after Yu Yulai was trapped in the other world. She had successfully resolved the inner conflicts of all her classmates, rescuing them from locked rooms one by one. Furthermore, she had discovered the way out from Lin Lingwan—to not fear death and to jump from the building with that mindset.

When she led the classmates to the rooftop intending to escape, she turned back to find no one behind her. The empty rooftop left her completely alone. She realized the rooftop was the very room trapping her—it was her cage. And this time, no one would come to save her. To get out, she had to rely solely on herself.

Yu Yulai was puzzled. The classmates were trapped because they each had a knot in their hearts. But Yu Yulai had never encountered any real misery growing up; the saddest thing she had experienced was winning a consolation prize in a lucky draw.

Just then, a voice echoed in her mind.

“Will tomorrow really be better?” “The only thing you possess is today. Here, you can enjoy today forever.”

Yu Yulai realized that her fear of uncertainty had always been hidden deep in her subconscious. She let out a sigh, picked up a broken brick from the ground, smashed it against her own head stroke by stroke, and then fell from the building with a smile.

“This scene is indeed quite difficult. Just do your best…”

Zong Yougu lowered her head in thought for a long time, her brows furrowed. After a while, she finally spoke: “I’ll try.” She looked up, exhaled, and replied to Wan Chunming again: “I can do it.”

Wan Chunming smiled. “Good. I’ll have the crew set it up immediately. We’ll likely start filming in the afternoon. Use this time to find your state. I’m a bit busy; if you have questions, you can go to the screenwriter. Her lounge is right next to yours. You can ask her to explain the scene to you.”

“Okay,” Zong Yougu said, clutching the script.

She tilted her head back. The ceiling fan swayed in her vision, its rhythmic creaking making her feel drowsy. Her eyes were dry from the wind; she closed them, feeling a surge of soreness. All distracting thoughts were driven away. She no longer cared about anything around her—names like Wan Chunming, Quan He, and Zhang Yinyang were expelled from her mind. She didn’t even pay attention to herself anymore; she lost all perception of her surroundings.

At this moment, only one question remained in her mind:

Why would Yu Yulai do this?

There were only a few lines in the script, detailing nothing but Yu Yulai’s dialogue and actions. Zong Yougu had read the script several times already, and each time she wanted to know the motivation behind Yu Yulai’s actions. Each time she failed; she could not understand Yu Yulai.

Moreover, this drama was more like an art film than a commercial one. There was a lot of room for interpretation, and many things were not explicitly stated. This added to the difficulty of the performance. She still didn’t understand why Director Wan Chunming had cast her as Yu Yulai. Clearly, she was more suited for Lin Lingwan, wasn’t she?

Standing here uselessly wasn’t helping, so she decided to go for a walk. She wandered aimlessly through the set. The sun was pleasant, warming her body. Unknowingly, she found herself under a large tree.

Someone was already standing in the shadows—it was Zong Liangu. They always shared such a tacit understanding.

“What are you doing here?” Zong Yougu asked.

Zong Liangu countered, “Why can’t I be here? Are you trying to send me back?”

Zong Yougu pursed her lips and didn’t talk back.

“Zhang Yinyang called you just now,” Zong Liangu said casually.

“Oh,” Zong Yougu replied perfunctorily. Then she suddenly snapped out of it, her eyes widening. “What?”

Zhang Yinyang only had the contact info for her spare phone. Zong Yougu had never given that phone to Zong Liangu. How could Zong Liangu have received the call?

Zong Liangu finally smiled—the first smile since their argument in the car. She said, “You truly have a talent for stealing and hiding things, perhaps no less than mine. But did you underestimate me? You always forget what I did in my past life. When it comes to petty theft, you’re still a step behind.”

Zong Liangu smugly pulled the spare phone from her pocket, waving it in front of Zong Yougu boastfully. She continued to provoke her: “I knew you were indecisive, but I didn’t expect you to be this indecisive. Zhang Yinyang has been in contact with you since six years ago, yet you still haven’t handled this matter.”

Zong Yougu remained silent and looked away. She changed the subject: “So, what did Zhang Yinyang say this time?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh? Why are you apologizing?”

Zong Liangu laughed. “I mean, Zhang Yinyang said on the phone: ‘Liangu, I’m sorry’.”

Zong Yougu’s eyes narrowed, her expression becoming serious. She asked, “Why? What happened?”

Zong Liangu looked at her with great interest, mimicking Yougu’s tone: “Why? What happened?”

“Who cares what happened to her,” Zong Yougu said, throwing caution to the wind. “The priority is to bring Yu Yulai to life.”

Zong Yougu briefly described the events on set and the scene she was about to film to Zong Liangu.

“I said I can’t understand Yu Yulai at all. I used to say humans always have commonalities, but now I find that’s not the case. Yu Yulai is so perfect; her every move doesn’t even seem human.”

Zong Yougu plopped down on the edge of a flowerbed, picking a weed and dragging its stem across the ground.

“Why don’t you go find the screenwriter? I saw her in her lounge; she should be very welcoming.”

“No.” Zong Yougu refused decisively. She patted the empty spot beside her, signaling Zong Liangu to sit. “Going to her would make me look incapable. I am outstanding; I can surely figure out the general idea on my own.”

The spare phone rang again. Zong Liangu held the buzzing phone up to Zong Yougu’s face. Zong Yougu hung up immediately. After a moment of silence, the ringtone started again. Zong Yougu hung up repeatedly, but the ringtone persisted stubbornly. Finally, it ended with the phone being powered off.

“You’re not answering?” Zong Liangu raised an eyebrow.

Zong Yougu said as if it were obvious, “I said the priority is to play Yu Yulai well. Who cares what Zhang Yinyang is doing? Besides, believe it or not, even if I picked up, she would just stutter apologies back and forth.”

“Then what do you plan to do?”

Zong Yougu spread her hands. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Just do what’s in front of me first… cross that bridge…”

Zong Yougu’s voice grew softer and slower, her eyes staring fixedly at the ants on the ground. Zong Liangu waved a hand in front of her face, but it didn’t break her train of thought.

She suddenly grabbed Zong Liangu’s wrist and said with a face full of excitement: “I think I understand.”

“Yu Yulai’s inner knot… is the fear of uncertainty.” Zong Yougu’s bright eyes looked unblinkingly at Zong Liangu.

“She is afraid she won’t see her friends tomorrow, so she treats them with no reservations or boundaries. She doubts whether tomorrow or the day after will ever come, so she does everything in her power to live today well, using perfect character and meticulous actions to decorate every present moment.”

Zong Liangu pulled her hand away and added:

“Yes, exactly like that. But I’m not entirely sure; I’m going to find the screenwriter to confirm.”

Zong Yougu pushed off her knees and stood up from the flowerbed, hurrying toward the screenwriter’s lounge. Zong Liangu did not look away until Zong Yougu disappeared from her sight.