Jiang Siyang didn’t know how to respond to the praise, so he could only give a sheepish chuckle. He spread his script out before Zhang Jin’an’s eyes. “Gē, did you see the segment we just rehearsed?”
Zhang Jin’an nodded, clutching his soy milk. “Yeah, I saw it. It’s missing a bit of… flavor.”
Zhang Jin’an waved at the assistant director. “Alright, take care.”
“Take care, Director,” Jiang Siyang added.
Once the assistant director left, only the two of them remained by the monitors. The rest of the crew were chatting and resting, and the set had grown lively for the moment.
Jiang Siyang scanned their surroundings before returning to the conversation. “Right, Director Tang said the same thing—that we haven’t found the right ‘point’ yet. But I’m not sure what’s feeling off.”
“Let me see,” Zhang Jin’an said, leaning in. His finger traced a line on Jiang Siyang’s script as he lowered his head to read.
Every time Jiang Siyang saw Zhang Jin’an’s hands, his attention was inevitably drawn to them.
He mentally chided himself for his lack of focus, but his eyes still followed those fingertips line by line. By the time Zhang Jin’an finished reading, he had finished as well.
“The atmosphere for this segment might be wrong,” Zhang Jin’an said, pointing to the line: *Su Rong and Cui Chi walking down the street.*
Jiang Siyang asked quickly, “What’s wrong with it?”
“At this point, even though you and Su Rong have known each other for many days, you still don’t have much to say to one another. The atmosphere should be awkward,” Zhang Jin’an explained patiently. “When you two chat here, you can lengthen the pauses to create the feeling that you don’t know what to say. Later, when Ding Lijing appears—she’s the girl your character likes—you should look relieved to see her.”
Zhang Jin’an’s explanation was crystal clear. It was a revelation for Jiang Siyang. “So it was missing that subtle detail.” He hadn't noticed that nuance at all.
Zhang Jin’an then pointed toward the monitor. “This scene will capture the expressions of all three of you. Even though it’s short, you have to nail that emotional transition.”
“Okay, I understand.” Jiang Siyang nodded firmly. He pulled out the pen clipped to his script and began making notes. “I think I get it now. I’ll ask Director Tang later if that’s what he’s looking for.”
Zhang Jin’an stared at the small, dark brown braid—the same color as Jiang Siyang’s natural hair—and found it more interesting the longer he looked. Eventually, his mischievous hand reached out and gave the braid a little flick.
“Is it hot?” Zhang Jin’an asked.
Jiang Siyang didn’t seem to mind the touch; his eyes never left his script. “It’s not too bad this morning.”
“Don’t you have scenes with long hair later on?” Zhang Jin’an asked, watching Jiang Siyang’s handwriting.
“By then it’ll be autumn, so it won’t be hot. Oh, right.” Jiang Siyang stopped writing and looked up at Zhang Jin’an with a smile. “Gē, we don’t have many scenes together. Maybe the next time I see you, I’ll have long hair.”
Zhang Jin’an smiled back. “It’s not that few. We have a dozen or so. There’s one this afternoon, and another in three days.”
“I won’t be able to come watch you film during these three days. I have to go back to Beijing for an interview.” Jiang Siyang capped his pen, clipped it back, and sighed. “What a pity. I’m missing out on three days of learning opportunities.”
Zhang Jin’an let out a soft laugh. “It’s fine. I’ll come watch you guys rehearse whenever I’m free. There will be plenty of chances. If there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask me.”
“Really?” Jiang Siyang’s eyes lit up, but then he hesitated. “But wouldn’t that waste too much of your rest time?”
“I don’t mind. I usually just read scripts or play games in the hotel during my breaks. Qiáng-gē is practically begging me to go out for a stroll,” Zhang Jin’an said.
Hearing this, Jiang Siyang nodded, relieved. “That’s good, then.”
Just then, Yuan Yuan walked over, shouting, “I’m here, I’m here!”
Yuan Yuan was wearing a gauzy skirt that covered her ankles. It should have given her an ethereal, fairy-like aura, but because she walked like a total "bro," the effect was completely lost.
“I can’t tell at all that you’re the same person as your character,” Zhang Jin’an remarked.
Yuan Yuan laughed. “I’ll take that as the Big Boss praising my acting. I came over to ask a few questions.”
“Sure,” Zhang Jin’an stood up. “Instead of coming to me one by one, you might as well come together. Let’s go find Director Tang.”
When the three of them found Tang Shang, the director was discussing a scene with Ge Xianxu. Seeing them arrive, Director Tang asked Zhang Jin’an to help coordinate the rehearsal.
Jiang Siyang listened as Zhang Jin’an repeated what he had just said, even expanding on the subsequent scenes. By the time he finished, Director Tang was beaming like a breath of spring air.
Tang Shang patted Zhang Jin’an on the shoulder. “Good, good. You hit every point perfectly. As expected of a Film Emperor.”
Zhang Jin’an immediately smiled and demurred. “I’m embarrassed to accept such praise. It’s all thanks to Director Tang’s excellent teaching.”
Tang Shang chuckled and turned to the other three. “Is everything clear now? Let’s try it one more time. If it works this time, we’ll go for a take.”
The three replied in unison, “Okay.”
And so, the sixth rehearsal began.
The three of them returned to their designated positions. Before the dialogue started, Jiang Siyang kept replaying Zhang Jin’an’s advice in his mind.
Everyone performed exceptionally well during the sixth rehearsal. Jiang Siyang felt a "tangible" sensation, a physical realization of the difference from before. Just as Zhang Jin’an had said, adding that layer of "awkwardness" between him and Ge Xianxu made the entire scene feel harmonious.
Director Tang was very satisfied. He called a halt halfway through and told them to keep that momentum for the actual shoot.
This would be the first official take of the scene. Makeup artists and stylists swarmed in to touch up the actors.
Because Jiang Siyang was tall, he stood with his legs spread wide to lower himself for the makeup artist. The artist didn't forget to compliment him, saying, “Your legs are so long.” The stylist adjusted Jiang Siyang’s clothes and finally undid his small braid.
Jiang Siyang’s hair fell loose, reaching down to his shoulders.
“I did a good job with these extensions, didn’t I?” the stylist said with a laugh. “They look just like the real thing.”
Jiang Siyang slowly straightened up and nodded in agreement. “They do.”
Everyone moved quickly. Within minutes, the filming area was cleared, leaving only the actors. Everything was ready; everyone was waiting for Director Tang’s "Action."
The script supervisor stood before the camera, ready with the clapperboard. Director Tang stood by the monitor, shouting through a megaphone, “I’m counting down from three. Three, two, one—”
Before every official take, Jiang Siyang would feel a bit of nerves. After all, a single mistake meant a retake, and no one wanted to be the one to mess up.
Jiang Siyang mentally reviewed his lines one last time. When he looked up, he saw Zhang Jin’an sitting by the monitor, chatting with the assistant director.
Zhang Jin’an was dressed simply in a shirt and jeans, but his extraordinary temperament made him stand out instantly.
*When will I be able to be as composed and self-assured as him, able to spot the ‘key points’ at a single glance?* Jiang Siyang wondered. Just then, Zhang Jin’an finished his conversation and turned his head.
Jiang Siyang didn’t look away, letting their gazes meet. He saw Zhang Jin’an offer him a smile. It was the exact same smile Zhang Jin’an had given him from the audience during that commercial performance.
Come to think of it, even the weather seemed the same as that day. White clouds drifted lazily, the sun peeked out occasionally, and golden sunlight spilled across the ground.
However, the weather today felt even better—so good that it made his heart feel completely at peace.
“Action.”
