Chapter 50

Just as he hung up, Yu Nan knocked and entered. "Boss, the supplements you ordered have arrived."

Qu Yanting ordered them every year before the Spring Festival as gifts for his elders. He said, "Same as always, divide them into three portions."

Two portions were to be mailed out. One for Ren Shu's parents, and the other with the recipient listed as "Big Brother." Yu Nan had been responsible for mailing them for seven or eight years, yet he still had no idea who the other party was.

After being busy until the sky turned orange at dusk, Qu Yanting left the studio, taking the third portion with him to Zishan Grand Residences.

Zeng Zhen was still with the film crew, so only Wang Mingyu and the housekeeper auntie were at home. Dinner was just being served when the housekeeper spotted Qu Yanting's car through the window and called out, "Teacher Wang, Mr. Qu is here."

Wang Mingyu came down the stairs and said, "Set another place."

The doorbell rang. The housekeeper went to open it first. Qu Yanting came in and called out, "Master," then hung up his coat and washed his hands with practiced ease before taking a seat in the dining room.

He had arrived right at dinnertime. Wang Mingyu said, "You certainly know how to time your visits."

Qu Yanting rolled up his sleeves and ladled some soup, placing the bowl gently in front of Wang Mingyu. There were three dishes, not large portions. He asked, "Is this enough to eat?"

Wang Mingyu instructed the housekeeper, "Steam a plate of Sichuan Sausage."

"Thank you, Master," Qu Yanting said. "Auntie, please add scrambled eggs with tomato."

It was a similar scene to the last time the master and disciple had been at odds, but today's atmosphere was quite good. After quietly eating half a bowl of rice, Wang Mingyu said, "The first ten episodes of the new year's drama are finished. Come upstairs and take a look later."

"Okay," Qu Yanting said expectantly. "I brought a script with me too. I'd like Master to take a look as well."

It was that unfinished independent work. Wang Mingyu had heard Qu Yanting talk about the concept before and was very interested. She put down her chopsticks and wiped her hands. "Here, let me see."

Qu Yanting took it out of his bag. It had been printed before he left work and had been kept warm inside his bag the whole way, the ink giving off a faint residual warmth and smell.

Wang Mingyu put on the reading glasses that hung on her chest, took the script, and began to read, letting her soup grow cold. The table fell silent for a moment. She said, "Eat your food. It's not like I'm grading your homework."

Qu Yanting lowered his head and continued to eat, swallowing his emotions along with his food. He idolized this master of his. The plays Wang Mingyu wrote, her spirit of delving into screenplays, the integrity of the characters she created—all these had made him worship her for many years, even setting aside the gratitude he felt for her kindness.

But the matter of the screenwriting credit was like a piece of grit in a bowl of white rice—dirty, hard, and painfully grating. Qu Yanting picked up his bowl and poked at the last mouthful of rice with the tip of his chopsticks. When he looked up again, all complex emotions had vanished.

Wang Mingyu sighed, "It's been a long time since I've read a film script."

Her husband was a famous film director; she was in a privileged position. Qu Yanting avoided talking about Zeng Zhen and said, "If Master wants to read any, just let me know. I'll have the film scripts from the studio sent over."

Wang Mingyu turned a page, satisfied. "How long have you been writing this?"

Qu Yanting replied, "Over a year."

Wang Mingyu: "Progress?"

Qu Yanting: "More than halfway done."

His fingertips rubbing the delicate porcelain handle of his soup spoon, Qu Yanting took a risk and probed, "I've been too busy. The studio's projects take priority, so I can only write this in my spare time. And now they've thrown another terrible drama at me."

Wang Mingyu showed no reaction, seeming too focused to hear him. After finishing the script, she brought the topic straight back, "There aren't many screenwriters your age who choose to write period dramas."

Qu Yanting asked, "What do you think of it?"

"I quite like it," Wang Mingyu evaluated objectively. "It's suited for the big screen. Some of the scenes will be spectacular, I can feel..."

Qu Yanting licked his thin lips.

Wang Mingyu said, "You're writing this with a director's mindset."

A brief silence fell over the table. Wang Mingyu looked up like an old pedant, her gaze passing over the top of her glasses to the person opposite her, hiding an impassive trace of what was probably regret.

She moved on from the topic. "The gaps in the first half, is it because you haven't figured them out yet?"

Qu Yanting nodded. "I've looked up information, but I still need to do more research."

Wang Mingyu asked, "Regarding what?"

"Traditional folk crafts," Qu Yanting replied. "I mentioned it to you last year and even borrowed a book from you."

Wang Mingyu was taken aback. "Back when you talked to me about continuing their development and suggested the foundation pay attention to projects in this area?"

Qu Yanting smiled. He had indeed mentioned it. At the time, he was looking for materials for his script and was moved by what he found. What he didn't know was that Wang Mingyu had taken his suggestion and had the foundation act on it.

The circle of traditional crafts and intangible cultural heritage was gradually shrinking. Relying solely on public welfare was like using a cup of water to put out a burning cart of firewood. Therefore, The Writers and Filmmakers Foundation collaborated with a television station to produce a program to promote them, expand their reach, and attract public attention.

Qu Yanting asked in pleasant surprise, "What program?"

Wang Mingyu said, "It's called Utopia."

Qu Yanting froze in his chair, stunned. It was actually the same Utopia that Lu Wen was participating in!

Wang Mingyu took off her glasses and spoke with the air of a big shot, "You should have said so earlier. For producing a program and doing public welfare, the research is very detailed. I'll have the foundation give you some materials."

Qu Yanting came back to his senses. "Okay... Thank you, Master."

The meal lasted longer than expected. It was getting late. Qu Yanting copied the first ten episodes of the script to take home and read. As he came down the stairs, Wang Mingyu didn't see him off but stood leaning on the railing in the small second-floor hall.

Stepping onto the last stair, Qu Yanting looked up. "Master, rest early."

"Yanting," Wang Mingyu called out to him suddenly.

Qu Yanting waited quietly. After a long moment, Wang Mingyu lowered her head, her expression obscured by her hanging hair. She belatedly responded to his probing at the dinner table, saying only, "Master won't harm you."

After leaving the villa, the wind picked up. The layers of clouds in the night sky were blown away, revealing twinkling stars.

Qu Yanting drove away. The car's headlights brilliantly lit up a stretch of road. As he turned a corner and passed the white house at 3-19, he glanced over casually and saw that it was brightly lit.

The main gate was open, and Lu Wen was hanging a wreath made of eucalyptus leaves. Hearing a car horn, he turned his head and was nearly blinded by the familiar bright light.

"Damn, what kind of manners is that."

Lu Wen ran outside as if to launch a defense of his doorstep, still clutching two long leaves. He ran out, saw it was a Bentley, and then the window rolled down. Qu Yanting, with a prim expression, whistled at him.

"Teacher Qu?!"

Qu Yanting crooked a finger. "Quite alert, aren't you? No need to get a big dog."

Lu Wen trotted to a stop by the curb, bent slightly at the waist, and rested both arms on the car door. "Who are you calling a dog? This is called threat awareness. I learned it in a self-improvement class as a kid."

"Just how many useless classes have you taken?"

"I take them when I've got nothing better to do," Lu Wen quipped. "You went to your master's house again?"

Qu Yanting grunted in affirmation. He remained in the driver's seat, turning slightly to face Lu Wen and make small talk. "Have you officially moved in?"

Lu Wen replied, "Pretty much. The reality show will be filming at home, so I came over to arrange things a bit."

Just as he spoke, a slightly chubby figure chased after them. Qu Yanting saw her first from his angle and shrank back into the car. Lu Wen turned for a look and explained that it was the housekeeper auntie who was helping out.

Sister Lingling stopped at the garden gate, politely keeping her distance. "Xiao Wen, you scared me, suddenly running out like that."

Lu Wen didn't move away, blocking the car window from view. "It's nothing. It's... it's the screenwriter teacher passing by. I just came out to say hello."

Hearing this, Sister Lingling said, "It's so cold, why don't you invite the teacher inside? I'll make coffee for you both."

Lu Wen lowered his eyes and winked at Qu Yanting. The hand resting on the window frame also reached inside and poked at the shoulder seam of the other's overcoat. Qu Yanting, his heart as firm as a rock, shook his head to decline the invitation.

"Who drinks coffee this late at night? Are we planning to sleep or not?" Lu Wen said unhappily, with a hint of indirect complaint. "He's busy, you know. Passing his own home without entering. His idol must be Yu the Great, the one who tamed the floods."

Qu Yanting almost laughed out of anger. Did this illiterate fool even know what "home" meant in that context? He also reached out and pinched Lu Wen's stomach through his sweatshirt, but unfortunately, there were only firm abs, impossible to get a good pinch.

Lu Wen shooed Sister Lingling back inside and stopped messing around. His hands still restless, he started wrapping a eucalyptus leaf around the side mirror. Qu Yanting didn't stop him, letting him be. "Be mindful of your limits during the show's recording. Take it easy."

"Oh." Lu Wen remembered the instruction and cleverly took it a step further. "What if those big shots bully me?"

Qu Yanting ignored his act. "What does that have to do with me?"

Lu Wen didn't get the response he wanted. After finishing the wrapping, he took a step back, stretching out a long leg diagonally under the starlight and moonlight. "There's a famous model, Yi Chuan. I heard she's gorgeous in person, with super long legs. We'd make a good match."

Qu Yanting said faintly, "That's not bad."

The car window rose, and the sound of the engine promptly pierced the night of the villa district. Qu Yanting stepped on the gas and sped off. Dazed in the exhaust fumes, Lu Wen quickly chased after him for two steps. "Can't I even brag a little?! Slow down!"

The back of the car turned a corner and disappeared. Lu Wen returned to the villa. Sister Lingling had been watching from the doorway the whole time and followed him inside. "Why were you shouting at the screenwriter teacher?"

Lu Wen said irritably, "I was born with a loud voice."

Sister Lingling asked, "What's a screenwriter's status, more or less?"

Lu Wen crossed the living room. "Someone I can't afford to offend, anyway."

"Then is the screenwriter teacher good to you?" Sister Lingling had the air of a long-time nanny. "I think you two are quite familiar. You don't know how to talk, but he doesn't seem to mind."

Lu Wen could have stomped the stairs into collapse. "What do you mean I don't know how to talk? You haven't seen me when I'm coaxing him to be happy!"

Sister Lingling looked skeptical. "You coax people?"

"For my career... I flatter and fawn." Lu Wen's mouth wasn't connected to his brain. "Is it easy for me? Different professions are like different worlds. Stop asking so many questions!"

The coffee table in the living room was covered with fresh flowers. Sister Lingling said disdainfully, "Well then, I'll just continue my flower arranging. Being a housekeeper is hard work too. Without me bustling about, would you be able to just waltz in with your bags?"

Lu Wen had already entered his bedroom, but hearing this, he turned around and shot back out to settle the score. "You have the nerve to say that? Why did you stuff condoms into my bedside drawer?!"

Sister Lingling was surprised. "You've used them so quickly?"

Lu Wen said angrily, "Like hell I used them!"

"What are you so angry about?" Sister Lingling trimmed the flower stems elegantly. "Safety first in all things. You can't be looking for them when you're in urgent need."

Lu Wen blurted out, "But they appeared when I didn't need them, causing Teacher Qu to misunderstand me!"

Sister Lingling said, "You're overthinking it. Only a girlfriend would misunderstand something like that. Who else would care? Xiao Wen, don't be so prudish about sex."

Steam was coming out of Lu Wen's ears. He gritted his teeth. "I'm not being prudish about sex, I just lack someone to talk about sex with, understand?"

Sister Lingling used a soft approach to counter his hardness. "Just say things like that at home. You're not a kid anymore. Others have someone and you don't. If they heard you, they'd feel uncomfortable."

Lu Wen finally broke down, rushing into his bedroom and slamming the door.

Sister Lingling gathered a bouquet of Eustoma into the mouth of a vase, raising a hand to arrange the leaves. She suddenly paused and wondered, "Huh? Who is Teacher Qu...?"

In the blink of an eye, it was almost time for the official recording of Utopia.

The company arranged a small team for Lu Wen. Besides his manager, a personal assistant and a stylist were added. The latter was just for show, because Lu Wen didn't need a stylist to borrow new clothes; his own collection of big-name brands and haute couture was more than enough to work with.

On the day of the recording, Sun Xiaojian and his assistant arrived early in the morning. They wandered aimlessly around Zishan Park for a while before finally finding the villa district.

Sister Lingling had packed his luggage—three large suitcases. Lu Wen was changing in his spacious walk-in closet. He wore a dark gray Balmacaan Coat over a French cuff shirt with metal insignia cufflinks. Slim-fit black trousers were tucked into modified long military boots.

The only splash of color on his body was the Bloodstone Jade Dial of the watch on his wrist. Lu Wen looked at the hands and said, "The camera crew should be here by now."

No sooner had he spoken than the doorbell rang. It was the Utopia production team—two cameramen for follow shots, a coordinator, and a group leader. Four people were in charge of Lu Wen's segment.

No one had expected this little-known star to live in a grand mansion. They had originally planned for just a simple shoot, but the cameraman couldn't resist doing a full panoramic sweep after entering.

The staff stayed off-camera. Lu Wen pushed the suitcases himself and said, "I'm all ready."

The cameraman brother asked, "So much luggage?"

Lu Wen: "Actually, only two cases are mine."

The cameraman brother: "Then what's in the third one?"

Lu Wen wasn't too sure himself; he had asked Sister Lingling to buy the stuff. He said, "We'll be staying with villagers in the ancient town, eating and drinking with them. These are some small gifts I brought for the local villagers."

A reality show wasn't an interview, and the cameraman wasn't a host; he had to film and speak for himself. Lu Wen adapted well, chattering away as he led the camera on a tour. "Is there heating in the ancient town? I didn't bring any thermal underwear."

"I actually prepared red envelopes too, also for the villagers, but then I thought, your production team will definitely give them money, right? Right?"

"Oh, this painting was from an auction. My dad appreciates it, but I think it's just so-so."

After a long tour, they returned to the living room. The cameraman had to fight the urge to chat several times, which was very difficult, but the group leader couldn't hold back anymore. He asked, "I heard Director Zeng Zhen also lives here?"

Lu Wen stood still, leaning lazily against a wine cabinet. "Yes, that's right."

The group leader said, "Do you ever run into him?"

"Of course," Lu Wen joked improperly. "I ran into him during my morning run yesterday. Director Zeng and I even went for soy milk together."

Sun Xiaojian was so anxious he could have vomited blood. He desperately tried to signal the guy to pull back from the brink, mouthing a reminder: Persona! Cool guy!

Lu Wen's heart skipped a beat. He reined in the script he had tossed to the winds, wiped the smile off his face, and covered it up with a cough. "Just kidding. I only drink ice water in the morning."

After filming the pre-departure scenes, the group headed to the airport.

Lu Wen brought a book to look cool, but since filming wasn't allowed on the plane, he didn't read it. He just covered his face with it and took a nap. Each guest was coming from a different city, and they would all meet up at the destination.

After a two-to-three-hour flight, they disembarked and transferred to a minivan. Alongside the highway were the rolling green mountains of the south, shrouded in a thin mist, with houses and plumes of cooking smoke dotting the mountainsides.

The coordinator got a message and said, "We're about to arrive at the service station. All the teams will meet up there."

Lu Wen pulled off his headphones and looked out the window. After passing through two long mountain tunnels, the view suddenly opened up. The Lanshui Service Station was situated at the foot of a mountain not far away.

The production team's commercial vans, seven or eight of them, were parked together.

Their van pulled up and parked at the end of the line. Lu Wen slipped out of the vehicle and took a deep breath of the fresh, humid air. His legs had been cooped up for a long time, so he strolled toward a less crowded area up ahead.

Just then, the door of a commercial van slid open—

Jin Yanyu, wearing huge sunglasses and surrounded by assistants and bodyguards, stepped one leg out of the van. After getting out, he preciously patted the creases on his coat. This dark gray Balmacaan Coat was the latest model given by the brand.

"Fuck."

Jin Yanyu heard the sound and looked up, freezing.

A few steps away, Lu Wen also froze.

On the very first day of work, he was wearing the same outfit as a top celebrity.