Chapter 66: The Fallen Queen of the Silver Screen

After receiving the quote from Xiao Qian, Mo Fei asked Director Wang for Hui Tianxin’s contact information.

Director Wang gave it to him, but he couldn’t help wondering just what sort of figure he was in Mo Fei’s eyes. Normally, actors sought out directors to cozy up to them—either probing for opportunities or outright asking about available resources. Mo Fei was indeed asking about resources, but none of them were resources an actor should be asking about.

Director Wang was genuinely curious and almost wanted to ask if Mo Fei was switching careers to become a producer. But in the end, he held back. Ever since the incident with the poisonous fungus, he found Mo Fei a bit uncanny. Although spending time with Mo Fei had indeed inspired him with many ideas, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was making a deal with the devil—trading some measure of personal safety for inspiration.

Better to keep it all aboveboard, he thought. Hui Tianxin was also from the same region as him. She had won the Best Actress award many years ago, but her life since had been tumultuous, and she’d even nearly taken her own life due to depression. She was in need of a good film to work on; if either the script or the pay Mo Fei offered was exceptional, she wouldn’t refuse. Director Wang wanted to help out his fellow townsman, too.

Mo Fei and Xiao Qian spent quite a while mulling over their words, but in the end, it was Xiao Qian who made the call. Facing Hui Tianxin, both of them were juniors; Xiao Qian spoke with great humility and respect. Their makeshift crew looked at a glance like people who made terrible films, and Hui Tianxin showed little interest. But when she heard the salary, she softened a little, saying she’d decide after reading the script.

For Mo Fei and Xiao Qian, this was as good as having half-secured her. Victory was within reach. They exchanged a glance and grinned together.

The following actor auditions went far more smoothly. The most important and difficult part had been settled; as long as everyone else performed to a passing standard, there would be no problem.

After Xiao Qian treated Mo Fei to dinner, they called it a day and agreed to meet again tomorrow. But for Mo Fei, the workday wasn’t truly over—he still had unfinished business. The red paint at his doorway, the jammed lock, and the mess on the ground all remained unresolved.

He found it odd that the old woman had made no further move.

As dusk fell, Mo Fei went to the old woman’s apartment. This time, he didn’t climb in through the window, but instead carried a case of milk and knocked properly at the door.

The one who answered was a woman whose mental state seemed rather fragile. She wore an apron, clearly interrupted while cooking. Seeing Mo Fei, her eyes brightened slightly. She shook her head, signaling him to keep quiet, then called into the apartment, “Mom, we’re out of cooking oil. I’m going out to buy some.”

Only after a considerable pause did a muffled reply come from inside. The woman slipped out and met Mo Fei at the stairwell corner.

“You’re here about last night, aren’t you?” she asked, a bit embarrassed. “It’s fine, I’ve taken care of it.”

Mo Fei was taken aback. “Taken care of? How?”

“I just gave my mother-in-law some medicine,” she said, her fingers twisting nervously. “She doesn’t sleep well, so I gave her some sleeping pills and sedatives.”

She figured the dosage wasn’t much—just two types, five pills each, four times a day. It wouldn’t kill her in the short term, just keep her quiet for a while.

Mo Fei didn’t see anything amiss and handed the milk over. “This is for Xiao Wen. That child looks too thin.”

“Really, that’s too much,” she said, flustered as she accepted it. “You’ve already helped us so much; accepting this is just wrong.”

“I haven’t helped you with much,” Mo Fei replied, shaking his head.

He’d just put on a bit of a show—if the old woman hadn’t caused trouble, he wouldn’t have had to make things difficult for her innocent family members.

The woman forced a smile. “You gave me the courage to make up my mind. That’s helping me a great deal.”

Her words sounded odd to Mo Fei, who asked, puzzled, “What decision?”

“My mother-in-law refuses to acknowledge her illness and won’t take medicine,” the woman said softly, lowering her head, looking meek. “I never dared force her before. But I realize now that making sure she takes her medicine is the right thing to do.”

“That’s how patients should be treated,” Mo Fei agreed. “Proper care is important.”

“I’ll take good care of her,” the woman said, her smile more genuine with his approval. “May I ask how to address my benefactor?”

“My name is Mo Fei—I live in the other building in our complex.”

“Mr. Mo Fei,” she said with a slight bow. “My surname is Wen.”

“Miss Wen,” Mo Fei replied, feeling a little uneasy with her deference, an odd sensation. He gestured toward the corridor. “There are still things I need to take care of, so I’ll be going.”

Seeing his hurry, Miss Wen reminded him, “Mr. Mo Fei, there’s an elevator!”

Without slowing, Mo Fei called back, “Exercise is good for you!”

Only after his footsteps faded did Miss Wen return home. She placed the milk in Xiao Wen’s room.

Xiao Wen was lying on the floor drawing. When she saw the milk, she was delighted and ran to hug her mother. “Mama, has the Moon Fairy come again?”

“That’s right,” Miss Wen said, gently stroking her daughter’s hair. “The Moon Fairy says Xiao Wen is the sweetest, most obedient child, and asked Mama to take good care of you as you grow.”

Xiao Wen squinted with happiness. “The Moon Fairy is so nice—she made Daddy disappear and made Grandma better.”

At these words, Miss Wen’s face turned instantly serious. “Xiao Wen, the Moon Fairy doesn’t like people talking about him. If you tell anyone, he’ll never come again. He might even bring Daddy back and take Mama away.”

Xiao Wen stared, frightened. “Mama—”

“Then you must never speak of it again, understand?” Miss Wen extended her pinky. “From now on, it’s our secret. Pinky promise.”

Xiao Wen nodded vigorously.

Their pinkies hooked together, one big, one small, offering mutual comfort.

Miss Wen’s expression finally softened. After her husband went to prison, Xiao Wen had asked where her father went, so Miss Wen made up a story about the Moon Fairy. It was always the fairies who took away the bad people; for Xiao Wen, the one who took her father was a fairy too.

She never imagined that someone would truly come down from the moon to help them.

She didn’t ask for much—only to raise her child in peace.

Humming a tune, Miss Wen simmered soup as little pills dissolved in the clay pot; the white pill bottle was almost empty. A relaxed smile crossed her face.

Miss Wen—not Mrs. Li. How wonderful.

...

After confirming that the old woman would be homebound and unable to stir up trouble, Mo Fei was left staring in distress at his own ruined front door. How was he supposed to clean this up?

Granny Zhang slowly climbed the stairs and, seeing Mo Fei, chuckled. “You’re back, Xiao Fei. I was going to find you yesterday and see your door.”

Mo Fei pulled a face. “Granny, do you know anyone who can help? I’ll pay someone to clean it up.”

Granny Zhang made an OK gesture. “I was afraid you’d want to keep the mess as evidence for the police, so I didn’t touch it. Just waiting for your word.”