After Transmigrated as a Black-Hearted Entertainment Boss [Transmigration] - Chapter 31

After greeting everyone, Su Jiqiu pointed toward the food counter, then turned around, picked up a plate, and began to help himself to breakfast.

Long Feifei immediately wiped away the stray water stains from the corners of her mouth, her face filled with pure astonishment as she looked at Tao Zui. “That’s Qiu-qiu? Su Jiqiu?”

Tao Zui set down his cup, picked up a breakfast bun and took a bite. Only after swallowing it did he reply in a thoroughly unhurried manner, “Yeah.”

“B-but… before… before this, he was…” Long Feifei stammered, entirely unable to articulate a proper sentence. In the end, giving up, she looked over at Zhu Zheng. “Did you know?”

Zhu Zheng’s hand, which was currently spearing a piece of luncheon meat with his fork, paused. His eyes were clear and completely clueless. “Know what?”

Long Feifei: “……”

Seeing Long Feifei looking entirely disoriented, Tao Zui set down his food, clasped his hands together in front of him, and leaned back against his chair. “Feifei, I know you’re an ambitious person. The reason I handed Qiu-qiu over to you to manage is because I hoped your ambition would drive you to assist him better. But there is one thing I must make absolutely clear. My people possess top-tier qualities, character, and raw talent. As long as they catch the right wind, they are destined to soar into the heavens.”

There was a saying that was crude but accurate: even a pig can fly if it stands at the eye of a storm.

The underlying meaning laced through Tao Zui’s words was to remind Long Feifei that Su Jiqiu possessed the capital to become a massive star, and was a future star destined to reach the absolute top. The person standing by his side, catching his ride on this success, could be her—or it could be anyone else.

Long Feifei caught his drift, and in that instant, she suddenly understood why he had hidden Su Jiqiu’s biggest advantage until now—

He had long seen through the fact that she didn’t think highly of Su Jiqiu’s prospects initially, and knew she was harboring thoughts of jumping ship.

Long Feifei opened her mouth, wanting to defend herself, but in the end, she merely bit her lip, lowered her head, and began eating the food on her plate, completely devoid of appetite.

What was there to defend? It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen Su Jiqiu’s portfolio photo before. It was just that the unmasked youth in the photo was so far removed from what she had actually seen with her own eyes that she had subconsciously assumed the portfolio was the result of heavy makeup and Photoshop.

Even after interacting with him for a while and clearly recognizing his extraordinary acting skills, diligence, and painfully shy yet upright nature, she had merely felt it was a pity, believing his floor was very high but his ceiling was limited…

On the surface, it appeared that Tao Zui had intentionally given her a reality check this time. But in reality, it was to remind her that he was the one who gave her this opportunity, and she was the one who chose to accept it. Yet, if she didn’t treat it seriously and kept thinking about jumping ship, how far could an agent go when she didn’t even believe her own artist could make it?

Su Jiqiu carried his breakfast tray back to the table, sensitively detecting the abnormal atmosphere. His expression instantly grew somewhat hesitant.

But before his mind could wander, Tao Zui pointed to his own eyes and asked, “How do they feel?”

Su Jiqiu quickly nodded. “Very comfortable, thank you.”

Before joining the crew, Tao Zui had specifically taken Su Jiqiu to an eye clinic to get a fresh pair of contact lenses.

Tao Zui waved his hand. “Don’t mention it. Your eyes are sensitive. To build a proper atmosphere in period dramas, the wind machines blow non-stop all day long, which puts a massive burden on the eyes. If anything feels uncomfortable while filming, you must tell Feifei and Zhu Zheng immediately, understand?”

Su Jiqiu nodded like a woodpecker, sitting beside Long Feifei as obediently as a student in a classroom. “Okay.”

Smoothly redirecting Su Jiqiu’s attention without a trace, Tao Zui stole a glance at Long Feifei, who was buried in her meal, then tilted his chin at Su Jiqiu. “Hurry up and eat. We’re doing look tests in a bit.”

After breakfast, the group of four headed to the dressing room. The last time they came here, there were only rows of garment racks packed with clothes. Now, it was stuffed with over a dozen makeup tables, piled high with all kinds of cosmetics and hairpieces.

One of the makeup tables was already surrounded by a crowd. Yao Qiang, the male lead’s agent and assistant, and the head of the styling team were all huddled there, watching the stylist fit a hairpiece onto the lead.

Look tests and finalizing a style were highly tedious processes; sometimes just adjusting the tightness of a single hairpiece required multiple tweaks. Because three separate parties—the actors, the core crew, and the styling team—were all involved, the opinions were vast and difficult to unify. If they ran into a particularly overbearing party, the process became even more agonizing.

Fortunately, this crew was entirely composed of relative unknowns. Even the male lead, who had been designated by the producer, didn’t dare act too out of line, offering his suggestions with absolute caution.

“I think this is mostly fine, but will the hair look too plastered to the scalp…” the male lead’s agent muttered under his breath.

Yao Qiang nodded. “A bit, yeah. Should we tuck a hair pad near the crown?”

The styling head furrowed her brow, examining the look closely for a moment before speaking to the stylist: “Loosen up the hair near the crown a bit. Right, loosen the topknot a bit too. Okay, keep it like that.”

Having finally sorted out the hair, the next step was makeup, followed by costumes, before they could finally take photos to finalize the look. Tattering around a principal actor alone could burn a whole day. If there was even a minor dispute anywhere, it wasn’t impossible for it to drag out over several days.

Tao Zui first exchanged a greeting with Yao Qiang, then led Su Jiqiu to find an empty makeup table to sit down. A stylist immediately stepped over to fit Su Jiqiu’s hairpiece first.

And the very first step of fitting a hairpiece was shaving the sideburns.

Even though Su Jiqiu hadn’t gone through this process before, he knew a thing or two about it, so he didn’t show much of a reaction. He sat perfectly still in his chair throughout the entire process, letting the stylist do her work.

Tao Zui and Zhu Zheng watched from the side, occasionally chatting about how they should help Su Jiqiu beat the heat once filming officially commenced.

Long Feifei watched for a bit, realizing that fitting this hairpiece would take quite a while. Furthermore, judging by the situation on the male lead’s side, Yao Qiang and the styling head likely wouldn’t be free anytime soon. Even if Su Jiqiu’s hairpiece was fitted, they would still have to wait a while before it was their turn for the look test. After a moment’s calculation, she turned and quietly left the dressing room.

Tao Zui caught a glimpse of her retreating back, continuing his instructions to Zhu Zheng: “Make sure to buy cooling sprays in advance to keep them stocked, plus mini fans and mosquito repellent…”

A dozen minutes later, Su Jiqiu’s hairpiece was finally secured. The black hair, which reached all the way to his shoulder blades, cascaded over his shoulders, making his already somewhat feminine face look a fraction more delicate. One could only trace hints of masculine crispness from his sharply defined jawline and high brow bone.

The stylist who had finished the hairpiece ran her comb through the wig with an attached look of reluctance, marvelling under her breath: “Simply beautiful… I’ve done makeup for quite a few stars, but to look this amazing even without makeup—I can count them on one hand.”

Su Jiqiu felt somewhat embarrassed by the praise, pursing his lips shyly. “Thank you… thank you for your hard work.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all! I love doing makeup for people with a flawless foundation the most. A few strokes of the brush and the effect pops out—it couldn’t be easier!” The stylist covered her mouth, letting out a sharp cackle.

Right at that moment, Long Feifei returned. She handed a bottle of eye drops to Zhu Zheng, murmuring an instruction: “If Qiu-qiu’s eyes feel uncomfortable, have him apply two drops to relieve the dryness.”

Watching from the side, Tao Zui raised his eyebrows with a smile. “As expected of a girl; you are indeed more thoughtful.”

Hearing this, Su Jiqiu looked over, catching sight of Zhu Zheng slipping the eye drops into his bag. He flashed a grateful smile at Long Feifei. “Thank you, Sister Feifei! My eyes get terribly dry when I wear contact lenses for too long. With this, I won’t have to worry at all. Thank you so much!”

Long Feifei gave an uncomfortable, light cough. “It’s what I should do…”

Seeing this, Tao Zui lowered his head and smiled. Su Jiqiu had been nearsighted since childhood. While he rarely wore contact lenses due to his sensitive eyes, he naturally couldn’t avoid wearing them for long stretches since he was filming now. How could he not have prepared for it? In reality, there were already eye drops inside the bag he carried around with him. His reaction now was, first, genuine gratitude for Long Feifei’s thoughtfulness, and second, an unwillingness to brush off her gesture, much like the compliment Tao Zui had just offered.

This was merely a minor occurrence, but starting from this minor incident, Tao Zui believed that Long Feifei had already begun to shift her mindset, and her collaboration with Su Jiqiu would steadily fall into the right track.

As for any potential pitfalls that this harmonious, progressing partnership might bury for the future, Tao Zui decided to temporarily toss them to the back of his mind, dealing with them only when the signs emerged. After all, it was far too early to worry about such things now.

Tao Zui remained with The Case Files of Dali Temple crew until early July. During this period, he didn’t forget to keep tabs on Gu Nan in Qing City and the three younger boys back in North City.

The Afterlife crew had also successfully held its opening ceremony on June 21, with the shooting schedule progressing at a steady pace. Gu Nan adapted exceptionally well to crew life, and his coordination with his assistant, Li Shengping, grew increasingly synchronized.

The three younger boys successfully finished their final exams. Chen Xing’s results for the Senior High School Entrance Examination weren’t out yet, but he felt good about his performance, though whether that was true or not remained to be seen. As for Diwu Zou and Zeng Yinuo, they performed within their standard parameters. Diwu Zou had indeed made progress, climbing from absolute dead last in the class to third from the bottom, while Zeng Yinuo maintained his standard mid-tier placement—neither high nor low, perfectly average.

The moment their exams concluded, the three younger boys completely cut loose. They practically lived in the dance studio and the recording studio every single day. With the help of their vocal tutors, they finalized three tracks, which would be ready for release the moment Chen Xing’s exam results came out. Diwu Zou had even fully choreographed a dance routine, claiming it was to prepare for an unforeseen need.

Tao Zui didn’t object to their tinkering. To be perfectly blunt, during a long two-month summer vacation, the fact that these three chose to pour their sweat into the dance studio and recording studio rather than going out to run wild was something he was more than happy to see; how could he possibly object? In fact, to keep them even busier, he threw out a mention about composing the promotional tracks and ending themes for The Afterlife and The Case Files of Dali Temple, making the three younger ones howl with sheer excitement.

“Since The Case Files of Dali Temple is a period drama, the style will definitely lean toward traditional Chinese elements. We haven’t tried that style before!” This came from Chen Xing, who spoke several times more than usual whenever composing tracks was brought up.

“I’m not worried about Qiu-qiu’s side, since the style is fixed. The issue is that Brother Nan’s side is a bit tricky,” murmured the relatively grounded Zeng Yinuo.

“What’s so tricky about it? Isn’t The Afterlife a sci-fi movie? Using electronic music is bound to hit the mark!” declared Diwu Zou, who had only recently picked up music arrangement.

Zeng Yinuo & Chen Xing: “……Shut your mouth.”

Diwu Zou: “Huh? What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”

Zeng Yinuo: “We still need to look at the script, right?”

Chen Xing: “Maybe we need to watch some footage?”

Zeng Yinuo: “Mm… let’s ask our teacher tomorrow how to handle film and television scoring.”

Chen Xing: “Okay.”

Double Zou: “……Hello?”

Listening to the voices coming through his phone, the corners of Tao Zui’s lips curved upward as he let out a silent, contented sigh of relief.

Not far ahead of him, Su Jiqiu stood tall and elegant before the camera, dressed in a white, round-collared robe and sporting a futou cap. Yao Qiang sat behind the monitor right beside him, raising his megaphone to shout:

“Alright, let’s do a test take. Background extras, watch your positioning. Action!”