Chapter 48: Don't Forget Your Primary Duty

Seeing the two young men looking timid, the traffic officer couldn’t help but chuckle. “Turning yourselves in? That’s a bit much. And don’t call me uncle—I’m not that old.”

“We heard about what happened yesterday. It was a special circumstance, so we won’t hold you responsible. Just return the helmet; it belongs to the department and can’t be given away.”

Realizing he truly didn’t intend to pursue the matter, Mo Fei and Ji Xingyu’s faces lit up with joy.

They handed over the helmets, repeatedly saying, “Thank you, officer! Thank you, officer!”

The traffic officer paused, then decided to let it go, considering their help with the investigation.

He glanced at Ji Xingyu’s motorcycle and asked, “Now that you’ve given us your helmet, did you not bring one for yourself? How are you going to get back?”

“No problem.” Ji Xingyu laughed heartily. “I’ll have someone drive over, let them take the motorcycle home, and I’ll just drive the car.”

This time, Mo Fei and the traffic officer both fell silent.

Though Ji Xingyu’s motorcycle was clearly expensive, the casual way he spoke made it sound rather showy.

“Show me your driver’s license and registration,” said the traffic officer, reaching out his hand and thoughtfully adding, “Electronic versions are fine.”

Ji Xingyu blinked. “Eh?”

It wasn’t that the officer was targeting Ji Xingyu; this was simply standard procedure in such situations, made easier at the station.

After checking the documents, the officer didn’t linger and returned to his post.

Mo Fei and Ji Xingyu waited by the roadside for a while, until a black Mercedes drove into the traffic station.

Ji Xingyu pulled Mo Fei along to meet it.

After exchanging keys with the driver, Mo Fei watched in astonishment as the suited young man donned a pale yellow helmet, mounted the motorcycle, and rode out the gate at a cautious twenty kilometers per hour.

The young man looked vaguely familiar.

Mo Fei sat in the passenger seat, dumbfounded.

Ji Xingyu started the car and explained, “Little Wang is my brother’s driver. Normally, he drives cars or electric bikes, and though he got a motorcycle license, he rarely rides, so he’s extra careful.”

“I guess—” Mo Fei paused for a few seconds, then laughed, “He probably got that motorcycle license for you, didn’t he?”

“Not entirely,” Ji Xingyu replied, turning the steering wheel while watching the road. “My brother told him that every time he earns a nationally recognized certificate, his salary goes up by a thousand. Since I’ve known him, he’s collected at least a dozen certificates.”

Mo Fei calculated on his fingers and felt his heart tighten. “Does your brother need another assistant? I can do anything—anything at all!”

Ji Xingyu gave him a polite smile, but didn’t answer.

Mo Fei truly felt a pang of heartache.

That kind of stable salary—he’d gladly work himself to the bone for a boss like that!

“Let’s head to the station then,” Ji Xingyu said.

Mo Fei waved his hand dismissively, indicating he had no mood to answer; wherever they went, so be it.

Ji Xingyu tried to encourage him, “Hey, you’re quite good yourself—you’re talented, skilled, and not bad-looking. It’s only a matter of time before you make it big. You’ll have plenty of money then.”

“You don’t get it,” Mo Fei gritted his teeth. “Acting is feast-or-famine, stability is rare.”

“Once you’re famous, it’ll be stable,” Ji Xingyu replied, then suddenly remembered the original reason he’d sought Mo Fei. “By the way, I came to find you yesterday to ask about the lighting. Got busy and forgot.”

“Where do you buy the lights used by film crews? And how many do you need?”

Mo Fei stared at his profile, his tone mournful. “You’re here to be a lighting technician—without any lights?”

“I only have a few fill lights for painting at home, probably not enough.” Ji Xingyu looked innocent. “Xiao Qian brought it up suddenly, and I have no experience. Among all the people I know, you’re the only one in the film business, so I had to ask you.”

Mo Fei covered his face and wailed, “What a mess.”

“If you hadn’t reminded me, I’d have forgotten I’m an actor. Thanks for that!”

He pulled out his phone and began messaging.

Ji Xingyu glanced over and asked, “Are you searching online? I tried at home, but my brother said a lot of online ads are scams, and it’s better to ask someone you know.”

“Your brother said that?” Mo Fei looked up at him.

Ji Xingyu nodded, puzzled. “Yeah.”

Mo Fei jabbed his phone screen with extra force.

This brother-obsessed Ji Xingjian must know his own brother’s social circle. Ji Xingyu couldn’t possibly know any lighting technicians—except him!

That sly fox, pushing his brother onto him!

And worst of all, no extra pay!

Mo Fei ground his back teeth, his already sour mood worsening.

He looked at Ji Xingyu, the anger on his face suddenly vanishing, replaced by a gentle smile. “In that case, we’ll be working together a lot on the upcoming shoot.”

“I’ll teach you how to survive in this chaotic world.”

Ji Xingyu’s eyes sparkled, his smile pure and joyful. “Really? Thank you, Fei!”

He added, “Is it okay for me to call you that?”

“Of course,” Mo Fei replied warmly. “Yu.”

“Uh…” Ji Xingyu’s expression turned awkward. “Maybe just Xingyu—‘Yu’ sounds like a girl’s name, it feels odd.”

“Alright, Ji.” Mo Fei lowered his head and continued tapping his phone.

Ji Xingyu opened his mouth, but ultimately let the matter of address drop and focused on driving.

Mo Fei was reaching out to none other than Director Wang, who had nearly finished shooting the battle royale film.

Director Wang had been riding high lately. Since Mo Fei left the crew, filming was still dependent on the actors’ performances, but at least there were no more cops showing up.

No severed limbs, no murderers, no corpses, and no police.

Wonderful.

Back in his familiar rhythm, Director Wang was in great spirits—he’d even gained two pounds.

So when he received Mo Fei’s message at this moment, Director Wang instinctively wanted to refuse.

Still, curiosity got the better of him.

This unlucky fellow wrapped weeks ago—what could he possibly want?

A new role? Networking? Borrowing money?

Director Wang had already decided, whatever it was, he wouldn’t reply.

Unless the film officially wrapped.

When he opened the chat, he saw Mo Fei’s polite and chilly line:

“Hello, Director Wang. I wonder if you could share the contact information of the crew’s lighting technician. Thank you.”

Director Wang was baffled.

Why would an actor contact the lighting technician after wrapping?

Could the lighting tech give him more roles or resources?

Director Wang didn’t quite understand, but it was a small matter. After notifying the lighting technician, he sent over the contact card.

He immediately received a “Thanks, boss!” spinning emoji from Mo Fei…

And that was it?

He really just wanted the lighting technician?

Wasn’t this a roundabout scheme?

Did he even remember he was an actor and Director Wang a director?

Did he have any initiative as an actor?