Chapter 53: Vanity Fair

"Spade Q." The actress who received the playing card displayed its face.

"I know this one," Wu Miao clapped his hands, delighted. "Spade Q's face is Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war in Greek mythology. Mo Fei, your way of complimenting people is so sophisticated."

The onlookers immediately burst into laughter and teasing.

These obvious gestures were just for show—everyone was polite, enjoying the spectacle, and having a good time.

Although Mo Fei could be a bit offbeat at times, he wouldn't embarrass a girl in a situation like this.

"Then, can you guess why I gave you a joker?" Mo Fei leaned closer to Wu Miao, lowering his voice.

Wu Miao froze, his mind filled only with images of clowns.

"In poker, the big and little jokers represent the sun and the moon," Mo Fei said, eyes crinkling in amusement as he patted Wu Miao's shoulder. "Stop thinking about clowns all the time."

Having his thoughts so easily guessed made Wu Miao flush with embarrassment and shame.

Mo Fei's gaze swept across the crowd, precisely catching the director Wang's darkened expression. A chill ran through him. "Damn, Director Wang's here."

With that, he got up to greet the director.

A director on set was sometimes like a homeroom teacher to a class—occasionally kind, sometimes strict, but always evoking a natural sense of nervousness in those who met them.

Wu Miao lingered on Mo Fei's "damn" and suddenly thought, if this deck had a "grass" suit, Mo Fei would probably have flicked a "grass" card at him.

Still, it was rather fun!

Young men don’t hold grudges. Wu Miao happily began practicing the technique Mo Fei had just taught him.

Mo Fei might joke around with Wu Miao, but in front of Director Wang, he was quiet and obedient, greeting him respectfully. "Director Wang."

"Mo Fei, you're here," Director Wang looked him up and down with a teasing smile. "Not killing anyone lately?"

Thinking of the incidents that had occurred in Director Wang's crew, Mo Fei’s face reddened. "It was all a misunderstanding. I really have to thank you for looking out for me."

Mo Fei knew that, given what had happened while he was in Director Wang's crew, if the director had been less tolerant and decided he was guilty, it wouldn’t have been impossible for him to be blacklisted.

But Director Wang didn't do that. He even let Mo Fei audition for his next project. It was clear he was genuinely humane.

"Ah, young man," Director Wang chuckled, patting his belly. "When I had a gun pressed to my head in my early years, your mother was just starting elementary school. You think a little hiccup can scare me?"

The main thing was, every time he left feeling aggrieved, inspiration would pour out of him just like when he was young.

He hadn’t felt this rush of excitement in a long time.

At his age, money was no longer an issue, fame had lost its luster; there had to be some other pursuit.

Not just making films like fast food, as it so often felt now.

As for Mo Fei?

In his eyes, the boy was just a youngster—caused a bit of trouble but, upon observation, seemed to have decent character.

Director Wang looked Mo Fei over with a smile.

He didn’t buy into the rumors—could someone really be so unlucky and still grow up just fine?

Mo Fei felt increasingly uneasy under Director Wang’s gaze.

It didn’t seem friendly at all; more like he was studying some rare creature.

Just then, the assistant director came over and called, "Wang, everyone’s here. Shall we start serving?"

Director Wang finally let Mo Fei go and turned to greet the others.

Mo Fei breathed a sigh of relief. Wu Miao pounced on him from behind. "Mo Fei, let’s exchange contacts! We can learn magic together in the future!"

At the mention of adding a friend, Mo Fei’s first instinct was to refuse.

Every extra person on his contact list meant extra trouble. Unless necessary, he’d rather retreat into his own world at home and grow mushrooms.

But recalling Lü Chunqiu’s repeated advice to network with more people in the industry, Mo Fei didn’t dare refuse. He forced a laugh, "Sure."

To many, a wrap party wasn’t about food and drink. Everyone present worked in the same industry, and with their current project just finished, it was the perfect time and place to exchange news and build connections.

While others mingled and toasted, Mo Fei, like a youth sneaking into an adult banquet, quietly settled into a corner and dug into his meal.

He couldn’t help but think the food at the wrap party wasn’t as good as what the aunties made at the police station cafeteria.

Still, he didn’t slow down in the least.

Director Wang and the assistant director noticed Mo Fei’s eating habits and simultaneously reached the same conclusion.

This boy wasn’t obsessed with their crew’s boxed lunches—he just genuinely loved to eat.

Well then, no wonder he was so tall.

Director Wang raised his glass to give a final speech.

Everyone put down their chopsticks and looked his way.

To Mo Fei, this was just the leader’s customary "few words"—a review of the past, a call to strive in the present, a look to the future. He’d listen selectively.

He kept a straight face, but his mind was elsewhere.

Director Wang’s speech was just as expected, ending with wishes for everyone’s bright future.

Fine-sounding words.

Mo Fei chose to focus on the meal in front of him.

A bright future—something the poor could not afford.

The restaurant owner was quick on the uptake. Seeing the host had finished his speech, he knew it was time for the main dishes and brought out a large pot for each table.

"Please try our signature dish—wild mushroom stewed free-range chicken!" the assistant director called out enthusiastically.

The server added, "Our chickens are all free-range black-bone fowl from local farms, and the wild mushrooms are freshly picked from nearby farmers. They’re completely safe—please enjoy!"

With the signature dish served, everyone politely took a bowl.

Mo Fei took a cautious sip and immediately understood what it meant for something to be so delicious you wanted to swallow your tongue.

In his eyes, the soup was suddenly bathed in a golden glow.

A signature dish indeed—deservedly so!

Everyone else was full of praise as well.

The atmosphere eased again.

After several rounds of drinks and an array of dishes, everyone was full and content. Some planned to continue the celebration at karaoke, others were preparing to head home.

That was when the incident occurred.

A girl suddenly crouched down and burst into tears. "Wah! For the past few days, I've dreamed every night of someone asking me to return their hand. Do you know what I’ve been through?!"

Everyone froze, as if a pause button had been pressed, all eyes on her.

Mo Fei recognized her.

She was from the props department—the very girl who’d first discovered the severed limb on his first day with the crew.

He took a step forward but sensed something was wrong; the whole world twisted and spun, colors and lights growing vividly surreal.

Mo Fei shook his head, smacking his forehead in an attempt to reboot his brain.

But the reboot failed. The kaleidoscopic world remained, and the girl's sobs grew distant and ethereal.

Those around him noticed something was wrong with Mo Fei, but by then, it was already too late.