Acting Out of Character (GL) - Chapter 6

Checking the flight information, she wouldn’t arrive at Wuyi Mountain Airport until after 11:00 PM.

Luo Jingyi sent a WeChat message to Zhao Lian, telling her not to come to the airport; someone from the production crew was coming to pick her up and take her to the hotel.

Receiving the message, Zhao Lian felt like she’d been granted a royal pardon. After a tiring day, the tension of having to pick up the “Grand Empress” late at night immediately dissipated. Seeing that her mistress had other “servants” to wait on her, Zhao Lian promptly took a shower and prepared for bed.

Before sleeping, she felt a flicker of worry. With no personal assistant by her side, will Teacher Luo be okay?

Zhao Lian sent a voice note: “Teacher Luo, can you manage on your own?”

Luo Jingyi was currently rereading De Profundis. She had just reached a specific passage:

“To have met you was dangerous to me, and to have met you at that particular time was fatal… For at that particular moment of your life you were merely a sower of seeds; and I was at the season of harvest when all is gathered into the barn.”

After reading those lines, Luo Jingyi replied to Zhao Lian: “I won’t get lost.”

Zhao Lian sent back a “mwah” emoji: “Let me know if you need anything.”

Luo Jingyi: “Just get some rest.”

When Chen Ge arrived at the airport with the car, the assistant director was still asleep, snoring like thunder. If they didn’t have work to do, the driver wouldn’t have wanted to wake him.

“Hey, Director Hu, wake up. We’re at the airport.”

Director Hu gave a sharp snort, opened his eyes, and spent a moment trying to remember who he was and where he was. Seeing the giant “Wuyi Mountain Airport” sign—which looked like the signage of a street food stall—it all came back to him.

“Oh, we’re here?” Director Hu pulled out his GoPro and snapped it onto a monopod. He turned around, intending to go over the “pickup script” with Qian Yu, but found only a girl sitting in the back. She looked like the actress from White Horse Media who had arrived today.

There was no sign of Qian Yu.

Director Hu was puzzled. “Why is it you?”

Chen Ge had just finished her movie and was putting her phone into her pocket. “Director Feng asked me to come pick up the guest.”

“Huh? She asked you to come?”

“Yes.”

Director Hu found it strange. Wasn’t Qian Yu supposed to come? Why the sudden change of plans? And why replace him with a young girl?

Wasn’t Qian Yu supposed to be the “CP” partner for that non-celebrity friend? Had the partner changed too? Two women as a CP…

Director Hu had been in the industry for years. Though he had never made it big, even at the bottom rungs, he had witnessed the industry’s more “thrilling” maneuvers. Female-female CPs weren’t a new thing; audience tastes were becoming increasingly unique. As long as the chemistry was good, fans would “ship” it regardless of gender. Besides, there were plenty of lesbians in the industry; he knew of several couples himself.

The script and planning weren’t his business. Although he held the title of Assistant Director, he was essentially just a gopher. Doing whatever the Head Director ordered was a basic skill for people in his position.

“Did Director Feng say anything else?” Director Hu pressed.

Chen Ge remembered what Qian Yu had told her: this was the Director’s lover, and they needed to be low-key. This Assistant Director seemed to know nothing but was clearly fishing for gossip. To avoid unnecessary trouble, Chen Ge stuck to her principle of “talking less and doing more.” When Hu asked, she simply shook her head.

Director Hu reached for his phone to call Feng Yunxin, only to find it had run out of battery and died.

Fine. They were just filming raw material anyway. If the editors wanted it, they’d use it; if not, they’d scrap it. Hu had worked with many crews and knew exactly what kind of production this was. Who would actually watch this once it went online? It wasn’t like they were making a movie; there was no need for extreme caution.

Checking the time, the guest was due. Hu and Chen Ge got out of the car and headed toward the terminal.

Luo Jingyi had agreed with Feng Yunxin that she would never use her real name on the show. She chose the pseudonym “Luo Xin.”

The surname “Luo” (罗) sounded similar to her real surname (洛). “Xin” (欣) was a homophone for the “Xin” (歆) in Feng Yunxin’s name. Having written too many scripts, Luo Jingyi found naming characters a nuisance and had developed a habit of picking random characters to cobble names together.

Feng Yunxin knew instantly that she’d picked it with her eyes closed and joked: “Oh, this name is great. It’s the ‘crystallization’ of our love.”

Luo Jingyi had two large suitcases and a backpack, all stacked on a luggage trolley. Wearing her sunglasses, she pushed the trolley toward the exit.

Wuyi Mountain Airport was the smallest airport she had ever visited, but the air conditioning was strong. Luo Jingyi wore a calf-length, white cable-knit silk coat, its two lapels connected by a delicate double-chain. Below it, she wore black straight-leg trousers and high heels. Every detail of her appearance was mature and meticulous.

With her wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, Teacher Luo treated the tiny mountain airport like a runway. Several young girls traveling together kept turning back to whisper about which female celebrity this might be, given her overwhelming aura.

Chen Ge held a piece of A4 paper with the name “Luo Xin” written on it. She stood by the arrival gate with Director Hu. Every time a person walked through, Chen Ge raised the paper a little higher, looking at them with anticipation.

But half an hour passed, and “Luo Xin” still hadn’t appeared. After filming Chen Ge for a while, Director Hu leaned against the railing and began to yawn.

“We don’t even have a photo. We don’t know what the person looks like. What if we miss them?” He sighed. Late-night work was exhausting, and this crew was stingy. He wouldn’t even earn much for this trip. He was full of complaints and low on energy.

Chen Ge said, “We won’t miss her. I’m keeping an eye out, don’t worry. Director Hu, if you’re tired, go sit and rest for a bit. You can even take a nap. I’ll call you when she arrives.”

Director Hu was tempted but played polite. “I’d feel bad. I’m supposed to be filming.”

“Give me the GoPro. I’ll do some ‘self-filming’.”

Director Hu didn’t argue further. He handed the GoPro to Chen Ge, gave her a thumbs-up, and went to a nearby seat to close his eyes.

Chen Ge watched as the crowd thinned out. The flight had landed; the person should be out by now. The wait was agonizing. It was past midnight, and her eyelids were starting to droop.

Then, a tall woman pushing a luggage trolley rounded the corner. Although she wore sunglasses, her silhouette was striking. Chen Ge snapped to attention and raised the A4 paper once more.

The tall woman walked toward her and asked, “Are you from the Country Life crew?”

Luo Jingyi’s voice was deeper than that of most women, and her slow, unhurried pace gave her an air of supreme composure. To others, her tone naturally created a sense of pressure.

Chen Ge felt like she was facing a school dean. She let out a soft “mhm” and nodded repeatedly, her grip on the GoPro faltering.

Luo Jingyi: “And you are?”

Chen Ge introduced herself: “My name is Chen Ge. Director Feng sent me to pick you up.”

Luo Jingyi took off her sunglasses and looked at the girl.

What is Feng Yunxin thinking? Fine, a business CP—but a girl? Luo Jingyi thought to herself. No matter how obscure your show is, you can’t have me dating a little girl, can you? Even if it’s pretend, it’s a bit much.

A “little puppy”? This is the “puppy”?

The girl wasn’t short—over 1.7 meters—but her face was adorable. She was clearly a delicate “flower,” not a “puppy.” And she was supposed to be bossed around? With those thin arms and legs, if I boss her around, what if I break her?

Luo Jingyi’s revealed eyes were beautiful, but they also made her look fierce. Being stared at like that, Chen Ge felt a bit overwhelmed. She thought: Did I do something wrong? Why is Director Feng’s lover looking at me like that?

Then her train of thought came to a screeching halt as she realized something monumental.

Director Feng’s lover… was a woman?

How was she a woman? Was Director Feng… into girls?!

It made sense… “Luo Xin” was a gender-neutral name.

Having discovered this huge secret, Chen Ge froze, not even daring to breathe for a moment. So that’s it. No wonder they wanted to stay low-key. Director Feng probably hasn’t come out yet.

Feeling the weight of this responsibility, Chen Ge took over the luggage trolley and said: “Sister Luo, the car is waiting in the parking lot. Are you going to Director Feng’s place tonight or…?”

Seeing how proactive she was with the luggage, Luo Jingyi felt it did have a “CP building” vibe. She felt slightly better. “I won’t go meet her in Li Village. Take me to the hotel; I’ve already booked it.”

“Okay.” Chen Ge pushed the trolley, and they took the elevator down to the parking lot. As they got into the car, the driver asked: “Where’s Old Hu?”

Chen Ge, holding the GoPro, had completely forgotten about Old Hu. He was still resting—likely asleep—and she had forgotten to call him.

Scratching her cheek, she said embarrassedly: “I was so focused on the pickup that I forgot Director Hu. I’ll go get him.”

She set the GoPro down, then hauled all of Luo Jingyi’s luggage into the trunk herself, giving Luo Jingyi no chance to lift a finger.

Luo Jingyi noticed that while the girl’s arms looked slender, they were nicely toned—like someone who exercised regularly.

“Sister Luo, wait for me. I’ll be quick.”

Chen Ge finished with the luggage and sprinted back upstairs. Luo Jingyi watched her receding back and thought: The girl looks to be about twenty-five or twenty-six? She’s efficient, reliable, and easy on the eyes.

Considering the CP partner wasn’t half bad, Luo Jingyi’s mood—having been threatened and coerced into this by Feng Yunxin—improved considerably.

The Author has something to say:

Luo Jingyi: Mhm, I’m quite satisfied with this CP.

Chen Ge and Feng Yunxin: … (Don’t dare to speak)