Chapter Thirty-Four
By the height of August, the summer’s most blistering days had arrived. Sweat clung damply to every body, and under the relentless sun, everyone suffered in silence. Having just finished her scenes, Rong Qing lowered her beautiful eyes; her fair and delicate face was flushed a captivating shade of pink.
What had started out as a supporting role was now, thanks to her remarkable performance, nearly rivaling that of the female lead. The drama, originally centered on youthful romance, was gradually transforming into a portrait of the 1980s, where university students stood as symbols of the era—full of hope, dedicating themselves to the nation, yet also experiencing setbacks and confusion. The genuine spirit of perseverance radiated through their struggles.
In her hand, Rong Qing held today’s Economic Express. The front page was dominated by a figure she knew all too well.
“Wang Enterprises on the Brink of Bankruptcy: Heir Dumped by Ex-Girlfriend, Quickly Moves On.”
Rong Qing could not say if she was born cold or heartless. She looked at the somber face of the man she had loved for two years and felt nothing—no satisfaction of revenge, no pity, no regret. Wang Chenhao was like a speck of dust blowing through her life, leaving not the slightest trace.
She folded the newspaper and set it on the bench beside her, then picked up her well-worn script and pored over it. A gentle breeze stirred the air. Beneath the shade of the trees sat a graceful beauty—serene, elegant, untouched by the world’s chaos. Nothing around her could disturb her peace. There was only one conviction in her heart: to perform her role to perfection.
Sitting across from her in a luxurious rocking chair, Wen Rui observed Rong Qing’s composure and felt a surge of envy. Years of navigating the entertainment world had shown her every kind of newcomer; in this business, those who didn’t work hard would soon be surpassed and left behind. Stunning faces were never in short supply here—beauties were everywhere. But few possessed an elegance so breathtaking, a beauty so earth-shattering yet understated. What pressed on Wen Rui most was Rong Qing’s authenticity beneath her exquisite appearance. Each day, facing the mirror and looking at the girl beside her, she felt herself a fraud—living an exhausting, hollow life. Perhaps it was precisely because the girl before her was so real and radiant that Wen Rui’s jealousy and resentment burned so fiercely.
“Wen, I just bought some iced pear soup for you. Please try it,” Han Xiyun said, handing over the thermos with a practiced smile that Wen Rui knew all too well.
Wen Rui suppressed her feelings, took the cup, and tasted the soup—it was quite good. She accepted Han Xiyun’s overture.
“It’s so hot today. Stay and keep me company for a while.” Wen Rui pursed her lips, her gaze betraying her pride and disdain.
Han Xiyun eagerly sat beside the star, fussing over her with tea and water, coaxing Wen Rui into a good mood.
“Wen,” Han Xiyun said, biting her lip, “look at how arrogant she’s become. She doesn’t even acknowledge you. Who knows what kind of spell that little vixen cast on Director Wang—her role keeps expanding. She’s practically threatening your position now.”
Having spent so long in the industry, Wen Rui saw through Han Xiyun’s petty schemes—using her as a tool. Still, with Rong Qing’s rising status in the crew, even the prop team greeted her with smiles. Hmph. It was time to remind her that earning the title of Queen of Chinese Cinema was no easy feat.
“Too many people around, watch your mouth,” Wen Rui snapped. If it weren’t for Han Xiyun’s usefulness, her endless negative scandals would not even warrant sharing a seat with her.
After a short break, Director Wang called out, “Rong Qing, Wen Rui, Xie Mutian—your confrontation scene is up next. Prepare yourselves.”
Wen Rui watched Rong Qing walk to the set, snorted coldly, and followed. It was the hottest time of day; just walking outside left one drenched in sweat, not to mention wearing thick, conservative costumes that made it almost unbearable.
Scene Fifteen of “Resonant Years”—action!
Chen Hao had made a name for himself in the campus debate, becoming academic confidant to the talented Ling Fei. His breadth of knowledge and expertise astonished Ling Fei, while her deep-seated confidence and poise captivated Chen Hao in return. The friendship between the poor boy and the rich girl was unhindered by their backgrounds—their camaraderie was open, natural, and free.
Beneath the trees, Ling Fei held her book, her debate with Chen Hao leaving her cheeks flushed. The proud and aloof girl seemed to have shed her frosty mask; her earnestness and stubbornness, and the starlight of curiosity in her eyes, made Xie Mutian’s heart skip a beat. Her face was like peach blossoms, cold as ice, gentle yet unapproachable—a true lady. For the briefest moment, Chen Hao’s expression turned dazed and lost.
“This question clearly…” Ling Fei looked up and saw him distracted, frowning. “Chen Hao, did I make a mistake?”
“No… cough…” The young man forced a dry laugh, as if trying to hide a fleeting sense of melancholy.
Off set, the scriptwriter frowned. The two weren’t following the script at all—how had Chen Hao missed that emotional beat?
“Director Wang, look—”
“Shh!” Wang Zhang showed no sign of dissatisfaction, letting the scene play out. “Chen, when you wrote this, did you really believe the poor boy felt nothing for the girl of privilege? Or was he simply too afraid to show it?”
“Well…” The scriptwriter paused, caught off guard. Truth be told, as Wang Zhang had pointed out, in “Resonant Years,” Chen Hao’s feelings for Ling Fei during those vibrant campus days were indeed complex—a blend of kindred spirits and mutual admiration. Yet the budding affection stalled at the chasm of reality; Chen Hao’s inferiority and pride kept that nascent emotion from blossoming. He had never intended to complicate the campus story, but perhaps such unspoken feelings were exactly the finishing touch it needed.
The scriptwriter exchanged a knowing smile with Director Wang, an unspoken admission of the master’s wisdom. And, perhaps selfishly, Wang Zhang did hope his little protégé would get more time in the spotlight.
—End of aside—
Collect, collect, collect… This section contains some intense acting scenes, which Lanlan believes are essential. Only in this way can Rong Qing’s continuous growth and strength be truly portrayed.