Qi Bailu spent three days in Hebei, one of which was consumed entirely by the journey. The author had returned to his hometown in a small county for the Lunar New Year, so after Qi Bailu got off the high-speed rail, he had to transfer to a short-distance train and finally board a bus to the county seat. It was late January, the height of winter, and since he had always been sensitive to the cold, he wrapped himself in a down jacket that reached his knees. To avoid being recognized, he wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses and kept the hood of his jacket up almost the entire time. Perhaps because his disguise was so thorough, no one recognized him along the way, save for the railway staff who checked his ID.
Winter in the north was almost always the same. Looking out through the mist-condensed glass windows, between the frozen, pallid sky and the earth, vast stretches of desolate fields rolled on endlessly. It was as if the world outside never moved; what hung upon the window was an eternally frozen painting.
Qi Bailu’s sleep had always been poor, but strangely, he managed to get a full two hours of rest on the green-skinned train. When he woke up naturally, it was eleven at night. The carriage was pitch black, save for the person diagonally across from him playing on a phone, casting a small patch of cold light. He pulled back the thin green velvet curtain by the head of the bed to look out. The plains stretched for a thousand miles, frost and snow filling the view. Tiny snowflakes drifted in mid-air, occasionally striking the glass and melting against it.
Silence reigned all around, broken only by the soft snoring and coughing of travelers. Qi Bailu pressed his face against the pillow. In that state between wakefulness and sleep, he remembered that this was the first time he had traveled a long distance alone since dropping out of school. Usually, he was accompanied by assistants or his manager, or he was with Zheng Kunyu. On a night like this, those turbulent people and affairs seemed to suddenly fade, becoming as faint as the snowflakes outside, melting away one by one.
When he arrived, the author drove over to pick him up. The man said that although many people had called, this was the first time someone had personally traveled all this way for the sake of a role. The author was curious about Qi Bailu, assuming he wanted to leave a good impression so he could ask for a favor with the production team. However, after spending two days together, he realized that wasn't the case. Qi Bailu didn't proactively ask about anything, and he rarely mentioned the role; he simply followed the author as they wandered aimlessly across the land.
They went hiking, and on the way back, they passed a field. The author mentioned he had harvested wheat there when he was young. Qi Bailu asked if he wanted to go down and take a look, so the two of them parked the car by the roadside and stood on the ridge of the field to smoke. Cars sped past on the road behind them. The two stood in silence for a while before heading back.
The author asked him why he wanted to play Pan Xiaoyun. Qi Bailu said that Pan Xiaoyun was a liar. The author listened patiently as he continued. Qi Bailu spoke slowly, his words clearly the result of deep reflection. He said, "Acting might be like writing; sometimes it has to be private. But I don't want to show the private part. At least, when I do show it, the audience shouldn't know that part is me. Some people wish their lives were a lie. Acting is equivalent to lying."
These words were somewhat difficult to grasp, but the author understood. He asked Qi Bailu if he was also a liar. Qi Bailu paused for a moment and said calmly, "My profession and my life are both a lie."
Or rather, in Qi Bailu’s heart, this industry was built upon countless lies. That was roughly the extent of their conversation before the author’s wife came out to call them for dinner. When it was time for Qi Bailu to return, the author drove him to the station. Neither of them mentioned the movie, and they bid each other a polite and friendly farewell.
Zheng Kunyu did not ask about Qi Bailu’s trip to Hebei, but on the day the weather cleared, he still drove to the lakeside villa. Zheng Kunyu didn't go inside; he waited in the car. He was there to take Qi Bailu to the audition for *Fierce Spring Water*. The manager followed Qi Bailu out, and as soon as the two of them got into the car, the manager took out the audition notice to go over the details of the itinerary with him.
The car drove steadily and fast. For most of the way, only Cheng Wenhui spoke. They didn't yet know which scene would be used for the audition, so Cheng Wenhui asked Qi Bailu if he wanted to look at the script again to familiarize himself with the character. Qi Bailu said it wasn't necessary. They soon arrived at the hotel where the film’s preparation team was stationed. Qi Bailu lowered his head to tidy the messy script outline on his lap. When he looked up, Zheng Kunyu had already stepped out of the car and walked straight over to pull open the door on his side.
The door swung wide. Qi Bailu stepped out, avoiding Zheng Kunyu’s gaze as he stood to the side. Behind him, Zheng Kunyu closed the door with moderate force and casually pressed the car key. Qi Bailu didn't look at him, waiting for Zheng Kunyu to walk ahead before following. Cheng Wenhui trailed behind, his eyes darting between the two. Although the situation didn't look optimistic, he felt that Zheng Kunyu at least still cared about Qi Bailu; otherwise, why would he make a special trip to accompany him to the audition?
While waiting for the VIP elevator, they happened to run into Cai Tongyue and his manager coming down. When the elevator doors opened, the two groups stood face to face. It was Cai Tongyue’s manager and Cheng Wenhui who reacted first, exchanging greetings and pleasantries. Then, as one group exited and the other entered, they went their separate ways. As Cai Tongyue walked out, he caught a glimpse of Qi Bailu’s forehead and noticed that the scar had faded significantly.
These few days were dedicated to auditions for the second male lead. To find the actor best suited for the role, the producers were open to almost anyone who fit the age range. Many unknown minor actors had also come, hoping to try their luck. Consequently, the first-floor lobby of the hotel was filled with students from various drama departments, their faces carrying a characteristic innocent and vigorous vitality.
The elevator doors slowly closed before them. Zheng Kunyu watched the students who were casting glances their way, then turned his head to look at Qi Bailu beside him. In truth, Qi Bailu was the same age as them, but he had become famous at twenty, walking the red carpet of an International A-list film festival alongside Lin Yuewei. Although he didn't yet have a solid award to his name, he was the young actor the film industry was most optimistic about. After all, with Zheng Kunyu backing him, his resources and popularity had reached another level; the glory of Cannes would not be a mere flash in the pan.
Qi Bailu seemed to know what he was looking at. He glanced at Zheng Kunyu’s eyes, and their gazes met. Neither spoke. Cheng Wenhui felt that the look they exchanged was cold and heavy, like the glint on the tip of a raised blade. Because Zheng Kunyu was looking down, he carried an even greater sense of downward-pressing intimidation. The elevator "dinged" as the doors slid open, but neither of them looked away.
Cheng Wenhui stepped out of the elevator first and said, bracing himself, "We're here."
This time, it was Zheng Kunyu who withdrew his gaze first, slowly stepping out of the elevator. Qi Bailu stood inside for a few more seconds. As the doors were about to close, Cheng Wenhui hurriedly reached out to hold the automatic door, looking at Qi Bailu helplessly as he whispered a reminder, "Bailu..."
Qi Bailu followed him out, and the two walked one after the other to the room door. Zheng Kunyu had just knocked when someone immediately came to open it, and they were welcomed inside with smiling faces. Before Qi Bailu even reached the living room, he heard the laughter and chatter of the film’s production manager and Zheng Kunyu. The production manager said, "President Zheng, you've arrived early." Zheng Kunyu also smiled. "Is everyone here?"
"They're here, we've already gone through one round..." After some noise inside, the production manager called for the executive producer and the director. Qi Bailu stood at the edge of the living room. He had worked with Director Xue Fang before, so they naturally knew each other. Xue Fang stood up from his chair behind the monitor, saw him, and walked over after greeting Zheng Kunyu.
The room was large, with several people walking about; it seemed they were still busy with an audition. Two people standing and talking had been blocking Qi Bailu’s view, but after they moved away, Qi Bailu saw someone else sitting on a single-seater sofa. The production manager’s voice rang out again: "...Qiuji, look who's here?"
Sitting on the sofa, Ruan Qiuji looked up at the sound. Zheng Kunyu had already walked over to the sofa, resting one hand on the backrest as he exchanged pleasantries. One sitting and one standing, they chatted and laughed with polite ease. Zheng Kunyu placed a hand on Ruan Qiuji’s shoulder and patted it. As Ruan Qiuji spoke, he casually turned his face; after finding Qi Bailu, his wandering gaze flickered for a second before he quickly turned back.
After the auditions ended, the group inevitably gathered for a meal. Along with the production manager came another popular young actor who had auditioned, Chen Xiangfeng. Once they were in the private room of the restaurant, Chen Xiangfeng was still praising Qi Bailu’s performance during the audition, saying his own was lacking. Qi Bailu didn't respond, but Chen Xiangfeng didn't mind, instead giving Qi Bailu a generous smile.
At that smile, Cheng Wenhui, sitting nearby, was momentarily stunned. In truth, Chen Xiangfeng didn't look like Qi Bailu at all, but when they smiled, both had a refreshingly sweet quality, giving them a slight similarity in temperament. Chen Xiangfeng was the same age as Qi Bailu and had a very handsome, clean-cut look. He had debuted two years ago in a drama produced by Zheng Kunyu, playing a graceful gentleman in white in a period piece. Although he was the second male lead, his image as a devoted, unchanging lover made him an overnight sensation across the country. For the past two years, he had been active in television, starting to play lead roles.
Though young, Chen Xiangfeng was extremely adept at social interaction—sophisticated, warm, and tactful. Before the food even arrived, he had the production manager and the others laughing heartily. He looked so fresh and beautiful as he stood up to toast everyone in turn, his posture humble and pleasing. Even Ruan Qiuji, sitting to the side, cracked a smile.
Although Qi Bailu hadn't made any mistakes, compared to Chen Xiangfeng, he was like a motionless "vase" beauty, almost entirely different from his vivid and lively performance during the audition. He sat beside Zheng Kunyu, appearing as faint as a thin silhouette amidst the lively, bustling atmosphere of clinking glasses.
Ruan Qiuji sat directly opposite them. Qi Bailu never looked up; in fact, they hadn't spoken a single word all afternoon. Because they were in a private room, many people had cigarettes between their fingers, puffing away without restraint. Ruan Qiuji leaned against the back of his chair, talking to the director beside him while also lighting a cigarette. Just then, a server came over to serve wine. Ruan Qiuji straightened up, and as his gaze followed the pouring liquid, he caught a glimpse of Qi Bailu, who had remained mostly silent across from him.
Chen Xiangfeng, sitting on the other side of the director, smilingly took the wine bottle. He glanced at the label and turned to Zheng Kunyu, who was peeling a crab, to announce the name of the wine. "This is your favorite."
He didn't use a formal title, which gave his words an indescribable sense of intimacy. He even held the bottle out for Zheng Kunyu to see. Zheng Kunyu looked up at him and tilted his chin, indicating his hands were occupied. Chen Xiangfeng smiled, stood up, and walked behind Zheng Kunyu. He moved Zheng Kunyu’s wine glass closer and leaned down to pour the wine for him.
Chen Xiangfeng stood between Zheng Kunyu and Qi Bailu, half his body leaning against Zheng Kunyu’s shoulder. After pouring, he didn't leave; instead, he held Zheng Kunyu’s shoulder and whispered to him. The production manager nearby said displeasurably, "What secrets are you two whispering?" Chen Xiangfeng smiled. "Talking about work."
"We're eating, why talk about work?"
The two exchanged a few more words. Zheng Kunyu had already picked up a napkin to wipe his hands clean, so Chen Xiangfeng focused on whispering into Zheng Kunyu’s ear, "Last time you only mentioned it over the phone; this time you have to explain it clearly."
Zheng Kunyu gave a faint smile and picked up his glass to drink, deliberately staying silent. Chen Xiangfeng then lightly pinched his shoulder, his voice even lower, his mouth almost touching the tip of Zheng Kunyu’s ear. Qi Bailu could vaguely hear them discussing a new drama in preparation, but he truly couldn't stand Chen Xiangfeng’s ambiguous laughter. He put down his chopsticks, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, turned his face away, and lit one. As he looked up to exhale the first puff of smoke, he saw Ruan Qiuji directly across from him, staring straight at him. Ruan Qiuji was flicking ash into the ashtray by his hand, his face devoid of a smile.
Unexpectedly, after only a few puffs, Zheng Kunyu, who had been talking to Chen Xiangfeng, raised the back of his hand to signal Chen Xiangfeng to stand up a bit. Then, looking at Qi Bailu’s profile, he said in a very forceful tone, "Put it out."
Zheng Kunyu’s voice wasn't loud, but he clearly adopted a posture of authority over him. Chen Xiangfeng, standing between them, was stunned for a moment, looking at Qi Bailu with an unidentifiable emotion. Qi Bailu didn't speak. His hand holding the cigarette rested on the table; he took two more unhurried puffs before ruthlessly stubbing the unextinguished cigarette into the ashtray in front of him.
After doing so, Qi Bailu didn't give him a single glance. He simply picked up his chopsticks and continued eating as if nothing had happened. Chen Xiangfeng’s gaze flickered as he poured another glass of wine for Zheng Kunyu, saying something with a smile. Amidst the pitter-patter sound of the wine being poured, his lowered shoulder once again blocked Zheng Kunyu’s line of sight.
