We Are Filthy, Born From Mud - Chapter 37

Chapter 37: Yes, She Is Panicked. Quan He

Zong Yougu arrived on set just two minutes before filming began.

Time was tight, yet she paced forward unhurriedly. With a reach of her hand, Hu Yinghua promptly handed her a cup. Ice-cold water flooded her mouth, stimulating every one of her senses. Zong Yougu narrowed her eyes.

Today, she was to film her scenes opposite Lin Lingwan. She wanted to see if this “Quan He” had any actual skill—to see if she truly deserved the role of Lin Lingwan.

One thing weighed on her mind. Yesterday, when Zong Liangu returned, she mentioned that Quan He felt strangely familiar. It was impossible for Zong Liangu to know anyone named Quan He, so why the familiarity? Zong Yougu felt an ominous premonition.

She looked around the area but saw no new faces. Had Quan He not arrived yet? Zong Yougu had arrived late enough as it was, yet Quan He was still missing. To think there’s someone even more indolent than me, Zong Yougu chuckled to herself.

“Hello, Director Chunming,” Zong Yougu greeted Wan Chunming with a smile. She added, “Has Miss Quan He not arrived yet?”

“Xiao Zong, are you still in a daze? We’re filming your solo shots first today; she doesn’t arrive until this afternoon,” Wan Chunming laughed.

Zong Yougu had a moment of realization; it turned out she was the only indolent one. she smiled, a look that was somewhat self-deprecating.

Her silhouette was faintly reflected in the glass window. She was already styled, wearing that same school uniform with her hair tied up. Her posture was straight, her figure well-proportioned. She had bright eyes and white teeth—her gaze was spirited. She was perfect. Zong Yougu examined herself with a touch of narcissism.

Guided by the on-set instructor, she walked to the shooting area. She pulled out a chair and leaned forward, resting her head on the desk. The camera was very close. She closed her eyes.

This scene called for Yu Yulai to be napping alone at her desk during the lunch break.

“Three, two, one—Action!”

Zong Yougu kept her eyes closed, half her face buried in her arms. At the exact moment filming started, she felt as if she could truly hear the cicadas chirping outside the window. Zong Yougu knew she had entered her “state.”

Now, she was Yu Yulai; Yu Yulai had come to life through her. Yu Yulai enjoyed everything; leaning on the desk, she cleared her mind and carefully perceived her surroundings. She could hear the cicadas, and perhaps she could acutely catch the few bird calls mixed into the noisy chirping. The window wasn’t shut tight, and occasionally a draft of wind would stroke her hair.

At this moment, Zong Yougu was Yu Yulai, feeling what Yu Yulai felt. Her features relaxed, her entire being reaching a rare state of ease. The slight neuroticism she usually carried was nowhere to be found. She was Yu Yulai. Like Yu Yulai, she savored every moment, the corners of her mouth curling slightly—a look of satisfaction from possessing every instant.

Zong Yougu opened her eyes. Under the light, her bright eyes were crystal clear. She looked out the window; the swaying branches and the azure sky were reflected in her gaze—her eyes were a tiny world of their own.

“Cut!” Wan Chunming shouted.

Zong Yougu exited the character quickly, reverting to her usual pride and arrogance. After walking a few steps forward, she turned back to look at the desk once more. Like an audience member, she reviewed her own performance, being the most critical spectator of all. Once she confirmed her performance was flawless, the smile on her face grew even wider.

She scanned the surroundings; Quan He still hadn’t arrived. The director likely hadn’t expected Zong Yougu to nail it in one take and had scheduled the next scene for the afternoon.

While she didn’t see Quan He, she did spot Zong Liangu in the distance. Zong Liangu was leaning against a doorframe, her gaze seemingly locked on this spot. Liangu was wrapped up tightly, revealing only her eyes. Even so, Zong Yougu could deduce her mood. Recently, Zong Liangu had been very restless, while simultaneously absorbing knowledge like a sponge. Zong Yougu wasn’t oblivious to this.

But so what if Zong Liangu worked hard? It was impossible for her to surpass Zong Yougu. Each performing their duties and making up for the other’s deficiencies—this was their best way to survive. The smile on Zong Yougu’s face widened further.

However, even as she smiled, and even as her pride and conceit numbed her heart, a faint sense of unease still lingered. Both she and Zong Liangu had tactfully entered a state of psychological anxiety.

Taking advantage of the break, Zong Yougu walked toward Zong Liangu. She reached out, hooking her pinky finger with Liangu’s. It was a rhythmic, teasing touch. As she hooked her finger, Zong Yougu’s gaze crawled like a snake over Liangu’s arm, shoulder, and neck, finally landing on her eyes and staying there.

Zong Liangu ignored her and didn’t respond. She simply looked at Zong Yougu, her eyes devoid of any ripples. Zong Yougu remained persistent; she took Liangu’s hand and blew gently into her palm. The tiny stream of air tickled Liangu’s palm like a feather.

Zong Liangu finally furrowed her brows, a trace of helplessness appearing on her face. Zong Yougu daintily kissed Liangu’s wrist, feeling her slight tremor. She let out a sigh and said, “I’m very uneasy.”

Without waiting for Liangu to speak, Yougu lowered her eyes and continued, “I have a bad premonition in my heart, for no reason at all. I know you don’t care for me, but I can’t think of anyone else to talk to.” Zong Yougu sighed again, lifting her eyelids to stare at Liangu. Her burning gaze followed Liangu relentlessly, giving her no chance to look away.

“I don’t ‘not care’ for you,” Zong Liangu spoke before Yougu could. “I just hate myself. I hate that I’m not as good as you.”

Zong Liangu spoke slowly and seriously; every word carried weight. Her words were entirely unexpected to Zong Yougu. Yougu’s heart suddenly began to swell, its beating becoming so obvious. She turned her head stiffly and said, “Is that so?”

“I—”

Zong Liangu seemed to have more to say, but she was irritably interrupted by Zong Yougu.

“Listen to me first. I’m really uneasy. I don’t know who Quan He is, but I subconsciously don’t want to see her. Even the thought of her makes my breathing ragged, my throat hurting with every breath. I haven’t been like this in a long time. I’ve done many wrong things, and I’m not a good person—I’ve offended plenty of people. If something really goes wrong, I deserve it, and I’ll accept it. It’s just a pity you won’t be able to use my identity anymore.”

Zong Yougu looked up at Zong Liangu. She didn’t know what would happen in the future, nor how long this stable life would last. All she could do was minimize losses as much as possible. If she fell into the mud one day, would Zong Liangu step on her? Zong Yougu didn’t know that either.

Zong Yougu took the other’s hand again and sniffed it twice. She said, “Do you remember that drawer? The one where I keep my jewelry. There are bankbooks in that drawer—money I’ve saved over the past few years. It’s not a lot. If something really happens, take it and go.”

Zong Liangu took a step back. she crossed her arms and studied Zong Yougu. A vague, unclear meaning entered her gaze, and she let out a cold laugh. Zong Yougu only then realized that the look in Liangu’s eyes was one of mockery and ridicule.

After a long pause, Zong Liangu spoke ruthlessly: “Coward.”

Zong Yougu immediately looked up at her.

Zong Liangu said, “Don’t be so hypocritical. You should know our pride better than anyone. You know perfectly well that I won’t accept your charity. In those words just now, maybe there were one or two parts of genuine emotion, but mostly, you were just seeking comfort and plotting an escape route. You’re worried I’ll kick you while you’re down; you’re worried I’ll take advantage of the chaos to steal everything you have. So you offered it to me proactively, because you know I won’t accept charity—you understand my self-esteem.”

Zong Liangu took another step back. After ensuring no one could see them, she pulled off her mask and yanked Zong Yougu toward her. She stared directly at Yougu, her gaze like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, climbing coldly and clammily over Yougu’s skin.

She said, “You say you’re uneasy? What a coincidence, I’ve been feeling the same way lately.”

Zong Liangu smiled and said, “Given I’m exactly the same as you, why would I be inferior to you? Do you think I can catch up to you?”

Zong Yougu didn’t know how to answer. This wasn’t in her expectations, so she could only avert her eyes in panic. She knew Zong Liangu was still watching her, so she tried to feign composure.

“Of course you can catch up to me. We are one person. Whatever I know, you can certainly learn. In other words, I can also learn everything you are good at.”

Zong Liangu let out a cold snort and stopped talking. Zong Yougu, unwilling to be outdone, let out a mocking huff through her nose as well.

Outside, the noise grew—the sound of equipment being moved and clashing, the sound of conversations, the distant roar of cars—a multitude of sounds mixed into a rumble.

“Quan He is here.”

Zong Yougu caught the hushed exchange between an assistant and the director. Her heart began to race wildly; she felt an impulse to run. But she couldn’t run. She didn’t know who to rely on, so she just gripped Zong Liangu tightly.

“Director, I really didn’t expect Sister Yougu’s filming to be so fast. That’s incredible. I rushed over as soon as I got the message. I’m not late, am I?”

Quan He’s bright voice rang out, piercing through the noise and falling straight into Zong Yougu’s ears. In this instant, both Zong Yougu’s and Zong Liangu’s bodies went stiff.

However, Zong Liangu quickly returned to normal. Zong Yougu remained frozen. She didn’t turn her head nor look away; she just stood straight and motionless, only her pinky finger trembling slightly.

“Director, where is Sister Yougu? Before we start filming, I’ll go find her to get into the state.”

The sound of footsteps grew closer. Zong Liangu put her mask back on, once again camouflaging and hiding all her distinguishing features. Zong Yougu still stood dazed, her breathing becoming labored as images flooded her mind. An excess of memories made it hard for her to breathe; she was drowning in them.

“Sister Liangu, I’m truly happy to see you again.”

Quan He reached out her hand toward her.

Zong Yougu looked up. The person before her was more than familiar.

It was Zhang Mumu.