During the break, Jiang Wen bustled around the props team, roping in Xu Qiao and Si Cheng to discuss the play.
Xu Qiao saw Jiang Wen coming over with a portable player. He pressed the switch, and the screen began to play the previous scene featuring the performances of the two.
After adjusting the colors and sound, the post-processed shots were very captivating.
It started with a long shot. The camera swept across the sign of the Drunken Joy Pavilion, through the lively banquet hall, past the playful guests and courtesans, finally stopping outside Jin’er’s room window, focusing on snowflakes falling.
Laughter and banter from men and women, near or far, made this place even quieter.
The snow piled thickly on the trees, and when the snowflakes finally fell onto the branches, the breaking sound of branches and the rustling sound of falling snow became strikingly audible in the night.
Returning to the room, the camera captured Xu Qiao and Si Cheng, one seated at the table, the other on the floor.
After a while, Si Cheng spoke, “I’m asking you, are you—”
He was about to clarify his identity when he involuntarily stopped in Xu Qiao’s pleading gaze.
Xu Qiao leaned on his side, tilting his head to gaze at him, his black hair cascading behind. “Don’t speak anymore.”
“Don’t speak…” Xu Qiao’s lips moved as he slowly stood up. The eyes that had been steeped in the ambiance of Drunken Joy Pavilion, seemingly forever with a slight intoxication, were now calm. He stood in place, quietly observing Si Cheng.
Si Cheng furrowed his brows under Xu Qiao’s gaze. Those clear and bright eyes, devoid of the misty haze, made people somewhat uneasy.
Xu Qiao chuckled lightly, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Since you’ve booked me for the night, it’s not right to just sit idly. Let me dance for you. It’s something my mother taught me, and I haven’t shown it to anyone else.”
Si Cheng wasn’t interested in his dance, but his mind harbored caution, curious about what this person was up to.
Xu Qiao returned to the inner room, retrieving a dusty wooden box from under the bed. His fingers brushed over it, leaving distinct fingerprints. He opened the box, revealing a set of red attire.
The camera cut to Si Cheng. Seated at the table, he poured himself a cup of tea and took a sip to moisten his throat. Upon hearing Xu Qiao’s approaching footsteps, he looked up and his pupils constricted slightly.
It wasn’t the light, sheer fabric he usually wore. He was instead adorned in a red outfit – a red robe embroidered with flowers, a high-necked collar secured by celestial clasps, shoulders draped in a rosy veil, a pendant hanging, and a tassel. Below, the skirt adorned with a multitude of flowers, unmistakably resembling bridal attire!
As if understanding what was on Si Cheng’s mind, Xu Qiao pursed his lips and smiled. “Just a costume.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
The footage came to a halt at this point.
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“As for Chunyu Yuan, he’s a courageous and righteous young man, filled with a sense of justice, yet with a simple heart. So when he sees his enemy dead, it’s not a joyous relief but rather a compassionate sorrow.
“Let’s not shoot this scene repeatedly. It drains emotions excessively. Overdoing it might affect the impact, and Xu Qiao’s dance here requires physical effort. Let’s aim to get it done in three takes. Both of you, prepare your emotions before shooting. Find that state, and then we’ll begin.”
After hearing Jiang Wen’s words, Xu Qiao looked up at Si Cheng, noticed his furrowed brows, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Si Cheng said, “In the script, it’s written that Jin’er drinks three cups of poisoned wine and collapses in the snow. Chunyu Yuan just walks up to him, standing by and listening to what he says — this part feels strange to me.”
Jiang Wen asked, “How do you think we should handle it, then?”
Si Cheng opened his mouth but frowned even more.
“Okay,” Jiang Wen, sensing his struggle, patted his shoulder, “go with your feelings, Si Cheng. Once you immerse yourself in that emotion, become that person, you won’t need to think, you’ll know how to act.”
Si Cheng was a lively actor, a representative of method acting in performance. Once he delved into an emotion, he became intensely involved. Xu Qiao felt this during their scenes together, recognizing plenty of untapped potential in Si Cheng’s acting.
Once the set was ready, Xu Qiao changed into his costume and exchanged thoughts with Si Cheng. When both felt ready, they signaled Jiang Wen to begin shooting.
Several cameras were in position. Despite the night setting, the lighting crew provided soft illumination, casting a gentle glow under the moonlit night.
In the frame, Xu Qiao walked along the courtyard corridor with Si Cheng. The area was adorned with vivid red silk, fluttering in the cold breeze against the canvas of the expansive white snow, creating a striking contrast of red that evokes a sense of awe.
Xu Qiao glanced at Si Cheng standing beneath the beams and then walked to the open space in the courtyard.
The snow fell heavier, landing on Xu Qiao’s jet-black, inky hair, adorning his slender eyelashes.
In the courtyard, there was a small table with a cup of wine. Xu Qiao poured a glass, gazing at the wineglass on his fingertips, and began singing the lines: “The ice wheel of the island begins to turn. The Jade Rabbit is seen, already rising in the east…
“The wild geese soar together, and as I hear the voice of a maiden, the falling flower petals cast a charming spell over this scenery, tempting one to the brink of intoxication.”
Xu Qiao took a delicate sip of the wine, waved his water sleeves, and danced in the moonlit snowy night. Graceful and elegant, his figure embodied the essence of a spring mountain and the spirit of autumn water.
Jiang Wen clenched his fists, staring at the monitor without even blinking.
These lyrics were from “Intoxicated Noble Consort.” Jiang Wen originally planned to have a traditional opera teacher sing them, but Xu Qiao insisted there was no need and delivered a performance on the spot, immediately dissuading Jiang Wen from the idea of finding a singing teacher.
That voice, that singing style — why bother searching for another singer?
Xu Qiao choreographed the dance himself. Earlier, wearing a sweater, he had already impressed everyone with a run-through. Now, in a different outfit with a wig, dancing with water sleeves and flowing hair, he captivated everyone’s attention even more.
A person like this, standing quietly exuding a pure aura, was already rare. Yet, the skin, flesh, and bones were all exceptionally well-formed, making it impossible for the audience not to be captivated.
As the lyrics gradually shifted towards desolation and melancholy, Xu Qiao’s smile remained bright, but his gaze grew more somber. With a spin, he approached the table and poured himself another glass of wine.
The second glass of wine was not consumed as swiftly as the first. It went down slowly, easing sorrows with a measured pace.
The dance movements began to reveal a hint of intoxication, accompanied by a touch of coquettishness.
With the third glass of wine, Xu Qiao’s gaze shifted towards Si Cheng. Though it should have been a seductive look, it carried a trace of lifelessness. Leaning over, he picked up the glass from the table. Seemingly filled with sorrow and relief, intense emotions surged. A tear slipped from the corner of Xu Qiao’s eye, and without hesitation, he downed the drink.
Lips parted, the wine glass crashed to the ground with a resounding sound.
The last line of the lyrics overflowed from Xu Qiao’s lips: “Life in this world is like a spring dream, so let’s open our hearts and drink a few cups…”
Three glasses of wine consumed.
Destiny issued its final ultimatum.
Xu Qiao abruptly halted in place, swaying as if profoundly intoxicated. With theatrical flair, he said, “Husband, until we meet again in the next life.”
He flicked his water sleeves towards Si Cheng, spun a few times, and his body seemed about to tumble into the snowy ground.
Deviating from the script, the moment started with a shift. Si Cheng recalled the director’s words, “Go with your feelings,” dismissing all distractions. Before Xu Qiao fell, he scooped him into his arms.
The assistant director, observing, paced nervously. Jiang Wen raised a hand to signal him to be silent, urging the continuation of the shoot.
The embrace radiated warmth bordering on scalding. In Si Cheng’s arms, Xu Qiao crushed the blood pouch in his mouth, lifting his head. Seeing the blood trickling from his lips, Si Cheng froze in place.
“You…” He instantly realized something, glancing at the wine cup on the small table. “Is it the wine—”
“I am the son of a courtesan,” Xu Qiao softly spoke, silencing Si Cheng’s impending words.
“According to my mother, on the day I was born, it was just as cold as today, with the sky filled with downy snow… A courtesan’s son should also serve men. I knew this from as far back as I can remember.
“I never thought being a little attendant was bad. I was born and raised in this Drunken Joy Pavilion, witnessing smiles at the door, comings and goings, everyone spending money like dirt, courtesans summoning servants…”
Xu Qiao had powdered his face and applied red lipstick, yet he remained pale. The blood streak on his lips was disturbingly vivid.
“Who would’ve thought that I’d meet you that day, and you, you draped me in a garment. Many undressed me, but only you dressed me. But everything I could offer, you never cherished. Never cherished…”
Xu Qiao looked at Si Cheng, eyes losing focus, struggling to see his expression. Those eyes, once like a shimmering lake in summer, now in the early winter, lay silent and still. Occasionally, a fallen leaf could only stir a quiet ripple after the passage of time.
The cold wind howled, and today’s weather was splendid. Layer upon layer of snow fell in a fluttering dance.
Si Cheng held Xu Qiao, kneeling in the falling snow.
He watched as Xu Qiao’s eyes began to hollow. Opening his mouth, Si Cheng unconsciously emitted a heavy, struggling sound, a tear not belonging to Chunyu Yuan fell onto Xu Qiao’s face.
Jiang Wen stared at the monitor, feeling that Si Cheng’s tear seemed somewhat inappropriate. When Chunyu Yuan sees Jin’er’s death, he should only sigh, speak of fate’s twists, expressing some pity and sympathy.
The drop of tear at this moment, however…
After a brief hesitation, Jiang Wen focused on the monitor again. He felt that this tear added a deeper and more thought-provoking meaning. He decided to set aside his concerns and let Si Cheng continue with the performance.
Xu Qiao lifted his hand, wanting to touch the face of the man before him. Just as he raised it, the blood-stained fingers twitched, then slowly lowered.
“Enough, you never liked me touching you… Ah Yuan, it hurts so much.”
After saying this, a faint smile lingered on Xu Qiao’s lips. He closed his eyes, and his entire being fell silent.
Si Cheng looked at Xu Qiao with confusion, a sense of panic flooding his heart. He opened his mouth, revealing a helpless expression, his eyes reddened.
The wind suddenly intensified, snow blowing into their eyes. Si Cheng involuntarily shut his eyes, keeping them closed for a long while.
“Cut!” Jiang Wen took off his headphones, stood up, and applauded the two.
Thanks for the chapter! That was a beautiful scene!
Ahh it almost made me cry
Thank you for the update ☺️
Oh wow! I’m loving this! ty for the chapter 🫶
Thank you for the chapter!
Thank you for the feast. 😊