A OO Love After Officially Announcing with the Best Actress - Chapter 4

At 1:30, Lin Ke rushed toward the director’s workspace in a huff, but just as she reached the door, she slammed on the brakes, switched to a sweet smile, and knocked gently.

“Come in.”

“Director Shen,” Lin Ke smiled sweetly, holding two boxes of fruit salad prepared by Lu Tu. “Director Shen, I brought two fruit salads. Would you like to try some?”

Shen Feng was adjusting the monitor and didn’t even look up at the sound. “Just leave them there.”

Lin Ke put on a brave face, placed one box on a stand next to Shen Feng, and turned around.

Lin Bingran was sitting in the corner, her script slid down below the bridge of her nose, her amber-like eyes staring straight at her.

“…”

Lin Ke froze. There were only two boxes of fruit salad: a large one to curry favor with Shen Feng, and a small one for her own extra meal. She had specifically come early while everyone was resting to prevent any “uneven distribution” issues.

Lin Bingran raised an eyebrow, her gaze landing suggestively on the box in Lin Ke’s arms.

Lin Ke’s happiness vanished: “Teacher Lin, would you like to eat?”

Lin Bingran didn’t respond at first, pushing the script back up to cover her eyes. Then, just as Lin Ke was about to breathe a sigh of relief, she said: “Thank you, just put it next to me.”

Lin Ke: “…”

Yesterday was hotpot—high oil. Today is fruit—high sugar.

She’s 28 and her metabolism is still that powerful?

Lin Ke sat on the other side, thinking bitterly: Consider it weight loss. I’ll wait until Lin Bingran gets fat and then I’ll overshadow her with my beauty.

People gradually filled the director’s room. Wang Bingbing took a seat next to Lin Bingran, and the two chatted naturally.

Zhang Du, Shen Kuo, and several major supporting actors arrived; this scene involved over ten people, and the actors filtered in one by one.

Lin Ke curled her fingertips slightly, clutching her script, and moved her small stool further into the corner.

During the script reading, they first went over several important segments to be filmed in the coming days.

Fortunately, the movie didn’t have much fluff. Everyone exchanged lines, interpreted the script, and joked around until half the time had passed.

Lin Ke’s throat was dry from talking. She set down her script and shifted her gaze to the actress playing her elder sister—Wang Bingbing.

With this glance, her vision was inevitably drawn to Lin Bingran.

Lin Bingran played a girl the same age as her character—sixteen or seventeen—and now that she was in character, she looked the part without any sense of mismatch.

Lin Bingran’s delivery was also excellent. Once she spoke, there was a difference from her natural voice—she used her character’s persona to deliver lines, using a youthful voice as crisp as a silver bell.

A qualified actor can control their vocal cords; switching vocal range based on the character’s image is a basic skill.

Lin Ke’s delivery was weaker; when she raised her voice, she easily ran out of breath.

Wang Bingbing pointed out: “Don’t suppress your voice when you speak.”

Lin Ke said: “I’m afraid if the volume is too high, I won’t articulate the words clearly.”

Shen Kuo: “Your foundation isn’t bad. Is it because there are too many people and you’re feeling shy?”

Everyone laughed.

Lin Ke pursed her lips. An actor needs a strong “sense of belief.” She was still a bit green; seeing Lin Bingran reminded her of their relationship in the play, which felt awkward. Plus, the scenes with Shen Kuo and Wang Bingbing were also quite intense.

Shen Feng: “You can try reciting aloud. If you stick with that method for six months to a year, your delivery will be excellent.”

Zhang Du added: “Of course, be careful not to practice so much that you end up with ‘broadcaster voice’ side effects.”

The room erupted in laughter. The atmosphere was good, so Shen Feng took the opportunity to tease Lin Bingran.

“Bingran, aren’t you going to say a few words?”

Lin Bingran smiled: “Everyone here is a veteran actor; they know how to teach better than I do.”

Wang Bingbing: “This is Bingran’s first time taking on a same-sex themed drama, right? Are you confident?”

Lin Bingran remained calm and composed, whereas Lin Ke was so nervous she kept swallowing.

Lin Ke: “Director, I…”

“You and Xiao Lin are playing a couple. Since you’re both Omegas, the genders can’t be paired (traditionally), so that tension is missing a key element. Therefore, you’ll have to rely more on details and eye contact at other times,” Shen Feng pulled the topic back, looking at Lin Ke. “I’m not worried about Bingran, but has Xiao Lin ever been in a relationship?”

Involving her private life, Lin Ke gripped the edge of her shorts, wrinkling them further. “I… haven’t…”

Shen Feng: “You’ve acted in a few dramas. When filming emotional scenes, can you feel the back-and-forth tension with your CP (couple partner)?”

Lin Ke said with an embarrassed expression: “When I played the third female lead, there were no emotional scenes. When I played the second lead, I was a villainous cannon-fodder and a lonely ‘simp’ (lickspittle).”

“Pfft.” Shen Feng was amused.

Lin Bingran also revealed a dimple at the corner of her lips. She had been sitting still for a long time, her limbs feeling sluggish and numb. She had gotten sleepy looking at the script, but now Lin Ke had amused her awake.

Shen Feng then said: “Sit over next to Bingran to nurture some feelings. Aren’t you her fan? Do you feel your heart skip a beat when looking at Bingran?”

Lin Ke moved her small stool, bypassing Lin Bingran to sit in a slightly emptier spot. She seemed to smell a fresh scent of tea. She lowered her head and said: “I respect Teacher Lin very much; I wouldn’t dare desecrate my idol.”

The whole room burst into laughter.

Shen Feng, however, frowned.

Lin Bingran stretched her legs, the edge of her pants brushing against Lin Ke’s calf.

Lin Ke retracted reflexively, her attitude surprisingly full of disdain.

Shen Feng acted like a parent in an arranged marriage: “Have you two added each other on WeChat? If not, add each other. Xiao Lin, if there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask. Communicate and interact more.”

Zhang Du: “Let’s start a group chat.”

Once the group was set up, Lin Ke added everyone from the group on WeChat, only clicking on Lin Bingran’s last.

Lin Bingran’s WeChat name was a combination of her initials, and her profile picture was a domestic cat.

Lin Ke turned her body to prevent Lin Bingran from peeking at her screen, and silently typed in three words for the contact nickname: “Great Demon King.”

At the same moment, Lin Bingran also typed three words into the nickname field: “Little Hater.”

The fierce sun gradually sank in the west, and it wasn’t as hot anymore. Shen Feng went to Unit B to film Lin Bingran, leaving the assistant director in Unit A to adjust shots, filming scenery and supporting roles.

This scene was filmed in an old mansion in the town.

The old mansion was built of stone, brick, and wood. The gate was somber, and the whole building featured details of naturally decaying wood and lichen-covered stones.

The script background was that the building had been uninhabited for a long time, and a new family was moving in today.

The surname was Li. Rumor had it the master was in his sixties and had come here for retirement. A total of eight or nine people moved in together.

Lin Ke chose a less crowded corner of the mansion to prepare for her scene, watching the assistant director film the servants coming and going.

When new people move into an old house, the inside and outside must be cleaned, and they were short-staffed.

Manager Fang, played by Zhang Du, walked out. He pulled out a silver coin and called to Old Mrs. Zhang, “Go to the town and find two people who work efficiently and have clean hands and feet.”

Old Mrs. Zhang bowed and left.

This tiny shot took a full hour of back-and-forth fumbling before it was filmed. Once finished, the assistant director asked Lin Ke to do a walk-through. By the time the half-hour setup was complete, it was already twilight.

The horizon changed from pale yellow to a fiery glow. Clouds rolled and bunched—one moment like galloping horses, the next like soaring eagles.

The fire-clouds turned people’s faces red. Lin Ke took a bunch of photos with her phone; it was quite a rare sight.

Shen Feng returned, taking over the assistant director’s position to adjust the lens. She first snatched a series of shots of the fire-clouds, then prepared to film the meeting of the first and second female leads.

Lin Bingran had finished a scene in Unit B and entered Unit A to wait. She had long since taken off her loose jacket and pants and put on a qipao costume with gold-carved thread.

The qipao was a bit too large and flat at the chest, making Lin Bingran look somewhat frail, as if Li Fengling from the play had come to life.

To fit the character image, Lin Bingran had also bound her chest.

Lu Tu returned after being gone for most of the day, bringing tea for Lin Ke in a blue water bottle. “Tired of waiting? Take a few gulps; it clears heat, detoxifies, and refreshes the mind.”

Lin Ke unscrewed it and took two sips.

Lin Bingran was talking to Shen Feng; the two huddled together to look at the clouds through the monitor.

Lin Ke, having been prepared for an hour with nothing to do, was already bored of the view. She stood under the roof beams for another five minutes, watching the eagle turn into an elephant. She lowered her head and said: “Why is this tea so astringent? And bitter.”

“Hmm,” a voice sounded in her ear. Lin Bingran said with a beaming smile, “It might be the quality of the tea. If you want to drink some, I can have my assistant give you some fresh tea. It’s a farm-aid product I endorse; that one isn’t astringent.”

Lin Ke’s scalp tingled. She had forgotten that Lin Bingran’s pheromones were Longjing green tea.

“Thank you, Teacher Lin.” Lin Ke squeezed out a decent smile, but internally she was complaining that Lin Bingran was acting like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Lin Bingran nodded, pointed to the second floor, and said: “I’m going up first.”

Lu Tu: “…”

Lu Tu said speechlessly: “Can I put a safety lock on your mouth?”

Lin Ke: “…”

All departments were ready.

Shen Feng: “Positions!”

The production assistant snapped the clapperboard.

Manager Fang came out from under the porch, directing servants to wash the ground and walls with a water hose. “Here, here, over here! Scrub all the moss away.”

“Rinse the beams of the main gate too!”

A jet of water shot out.

“Ouch!” Chu Feng cried out, being drenched from head to toe by the water pouring down.

Manager Fang hurriedly called for a stop. The hose was moved away, revealing the soaked Chu Feng, standing in place like a drowned rat.

Manager Fang: “Who are you?”

Mrs. Zhou was slow on her feet and caught up from behind. “What’s wrong? Ah, Manager Fang, this is the kid I found at the market…”

Chu Feng wrung out her clothes as water dripped from the eaves. She tilted her head to avoid the drips and looked around curiously, catching sight of a figure in the round window on the third floor.

A girl was wearing a qipao, with a small wrap draped over her shoulders and skin as white as snow. She had originally been looking at the fire-clouds by the window but was drawn by the commotion on the first floor. When her gaze met Chu Feng’s, her smile hadn’t yet fully faded, and a small dimple appeared by her lips.

Chu Feng stared up in a daze, frozen on the spot, not noticing as a drop of water rolling off the eaves hit her right in the eye.

Her vision was turned into a kaleidoscope of colors by the setting sun. The sunset cast a faint glow over the girl. Chu Feng didn’t dare blink, for fear of missing the scenery.

Mrs. Zhou grabbed Chu Feng’s arm and dragged her into the house. Stepping down the stone steps, she stumbled and looked back—the person at the window had already left.

“Cut!” Shen Feng was not satisfied and said: “Prepare to do it again.”