Chapter 8

This reshoot wasn’t as smooth as the last one. The main issue was that there were too many large-scale scenes, causing difficulties in coordinating the equipment and managing the extras. Chen Man was cursing every day, and Meng Kaiyan had to take a detour whenever she saw her, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire.

On top of that, the shooting schedule was tight—they filmed day and night. Meng Kaiyan had to shoot for more than ten hours daily, not to mention everyone else.

“Staying up late every day like this, no wonder the crew feels like a powder keg, constantly crackling,” Jian Zhenzhu said, having endured two days of late nights before deciding she couldn’t take it anymore and staying out of the chaos.

Meng Kaiyan vigorously applied sunscreen. “I heard the producer is coming today; maybe the budget is a bit over.”

Jian Zhenzhu replied, “Director Chen is so obsessed with details that they have to use real equipment from the factory. The transportation costs alone are huge. Plus, with so many extras, the daily expenses must be enormous. No wonder they keep saying we should learn from foreign film industries.”

Meng Kaiyan was doing her best to cooperate. At times like this, being cooperative might not earn you recognition, but being difficult would definitely leave a lasting impression on the director and producer.

Soon, her final scene arrived.

This was another pivotal scene. What made it so important?

They had to catch the light—the sunrise.

In other words, if she messed up this time, they’d have to shoot again the next day.

Meng Kaiyan was incredibly nervous. It wasn’t just about her staying an extra day; the extras and crew would have to work overtime as well.

At dawn, with the sky just beginning to brighten, Meng Kaiyan arrived at the set. Chen Man and producer Mei Rijia had already been working for some time.

“You’re in good shape, Xiao Meng,” Fang Qun said, wrapped in a down jacket and sitting in a chair, holding a warm cup of coffee. Two opened cups of coffee at her feet showed she had pulled another all-nighter.

“Teacher Fang, you’ve been doing night shoots for three days straight, haven’t you?” Meng Kaiyan asked, genuinely surprised.

Fang Qun accepted it casually, sipping her coffee leisurely. “That’s nothing. I’ve done half a month of night shoots. You’re still young. After working with a few more crews, you’ll experience it too.”

Her assistant came over with breakfast, smiling. “At least two more years. Xiao Meng is only sixteen, still a minor.”

Fang Qun said, “Some crews don’t care if you’re a minor. Xiao Meng, you have to be careful picking crews in the future. Girls like you without agency contracts are the easiest to be exploited. Being treated like a beast of burden is already good compared to those crews that bully actors on purpose—pay barely anything and make you wear thin clothes to soak in icy lakes in winter.”

Meng Kaiyan shuddered. “Wouldn’t that cause hypothermia?”

Fang Qun laughed, “If it does, they just send you to the hospital. It’s all for the sake of the shoot. If you complain, they just say the show must go on. But don’t be too nervous. Things have gotten much better these years. With the internet so developed, crews fear bad reviews online. A bad reputation is terrible for business.”

Before long, the assistant director came to call everyone.

Meng Kaiyan checked her phone. It was almost sunrise. Her nerves surged again—this time, there was no Fang Qun to perform opposite her.

The camera crew and sound team were ready, and the assistant director was directing the extras’ movements.

Meng Kaiyan stood in front of the camera, tapping her feet. She was wearing cloth shoes, and her toes felt like ice cubes. She feared she might get frostbite after this shoot.

“Xiao Meng,”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s get this right in one take. This scene is a nightmare,” the assistant director said, patting her shoulder.

Chen Man scolded him, “Don’t pressure the young girl. I didn’t even dare to rush her, and you’re rushing?”

Then she said to Meng Kaiyan, “Go at your own pace. I believe in you.”

Her rare kindness only made Meng Kaiyan even more nervous—so nervous she was almost terrified. She thought, maybe it would be better if she just yelled at me a bit; that’s at least intimidating.

The clapperboard snapped, and filming began.

Learning that Qiao Hua had left, Cui Cui hesitated, unsure whether to see her off.

“Click—”

Suddenly, Chen Man called “Cut!”

Meng Kaiyan’s heart jumped. Half a second later, Chen Man shouted angrily, “Why is the shot shaking? Is the camera not mounted properly?”

Relieved that it wasn’t her fault, Meng Kaiyan exhaled.

The camera crew immediately treated it like a serious threat and hurried to check the equipment.

---

Soon, the second take was about to begin.

The morning sun rose, its fiery light piercing the sky and bathing this land welcoming new life.

Learning that Qiao Hua had left, Cui Cui’s expression twitched slightly. The newspaper in her hand was crumpled from her gripping it tightly without realizing.

“Aren’t you going to see your aunt off?” a colleague asked with curiosity and envy. “Your aunt is really good to you—bringing you quilts and eggs. At first, I thought she was your mother.”

Cui Cui was at a loss for words. “I... I...”

Her colleague pressed on, “Well? Aren’t you going? The bus to the city leaves promptly at 6:30. If you don’t go now, you won’t catch it.”

Cui Cui said, “But I have duty.”

“I’ll cover for you for a while.”

“Click—”

That segment was finished.

No time to dawdle—the next scene had to start immediately while the momentum was hot.

This next part was the hardest to shoot. Meng Kaiyan stomped her foot, hoping she wouldn’t fall during it.

Filming resumed.

Meng Kaiyan took a deep breath and slipped back into character, first walking slowly and hesitantly, then quickening her pace after leaving the office.

Chen Man watched the monitor screen and nodded with satisfaction. She praised to Mei Rijia, “This girl has spirit. She thinks while acting and knows how to design her own shots.”

Mei Rijia asked, “She looks young. What grade is she in?”

Chen Man answered, “She’s only sixteen, still in high school. The makeup artist makes her look mature—can’t tell, right?”

Mei Rijia was genuinely surprised. “Sixteen? That’s a good age. The industry really lacks kids in that range.”

It was true.

Twenty was too old; fourteen was too young. Actors in that middle age group were perfect to play the teenage versions of leads in big productions.

Mei Rijia studied Meng Kaiyan carefully on the monitor. She saw Meng Kaiyan jog out of the factory gate and sprint down the road.

Behind her, the rising sun cast a myriad of rosy rays across the sky.

The wind came at just the right moment, scattering the wisps of hair at Meng Kaiyan’s forehead, giving her a wild yet beautiful look.

The rosy light bathed her face, and her vibrant vitality was like a tender sprout breaking through the soil after winter, emerging in early spring.

At that moment, Cui Cui was born anew.

Meng Kaiyan completely forgot everything around her. She seemed to fuse with Cui Cui, instinctively running forward, releasing Cui Cui’s emotions and inner world.

Cui Cui, the sun has risen again.

Mei Rijia sighed regretfully, “Such a great performance—so much spirit. Many actors with seven or eight years of experience can’t achieve this feeling.”

“Exactly...” Mei Rijia shook her head. “It’s just that her face isn’t quite right—not leading-role material.”

Chen Man couldn’t argue. She always believed acting skill was the most important thing for an actor.

But in today’s entertainment world, looks were the door opener. If your face wasn’t strong enough, many projects wouldn’t even consider you. You’d be eliminated during the first screening.

Chen Man stood up. “She’s still young, will grow more. Maybe she can make a comeback.”

Mei Rijia wasn’t so sure. Few child actors ever made a comeback. Maybe a trip to the plastic surgeon would help. She didn’t say more but after a moment asked, “Is this the last scene for her?”

“Yes, why?”

“Chen Yu’s project is short a person. If she has time, I’ll recommend her. She’d fit well.”

Chen Man said, “Oh, Chen Yu’s movie is starting filming?”

Mei Rijia nodded. “Yeah. He begged high and low, even mortgaged two houses to raise the money. But filming won’t start right away—after the New Year. Before then, it’s just spending money.”

Chen Man said, “Ask Xiao Meng later, her mom’s on the crew too.”

In the end, Cui Cui caught up with Qiao Hua, who stood in the truck bed, waving incessantly, signaling her to go back.

---

The wind stung the face painfully. Cui Cui gradually slowed, hands on her knees, panting heavily.

“Click—”

“Congratulations, Xiao Meng, wrap!”

“Congratulations! Later, let Old Xu give you a bouquet.”

Meng Kaiyan’s efficiency and politeness on set had earned her a good reputation among the crew.

“Thanks!” Meng Kaiyan smiled, though her heart felt empty.

Another wrap.

The chief cameraman was kind and took several photos of her, sending them to Jian Zhenzhu.

Jian Zhenzhu loved them. “These are great! Print them out and hang them at home. For every wrap, hang a photo. Let’s fill the walls with them.”

Meng Kaiyan didn’t refuse. “Mom, then you’d better buy lots of frames.”

“Buy! Buy a whole sack!”

As the mother and daughter headed to the hotel, the director’s assistant called out, “Jian Jie, does Xiao Meng have a moment?”

Jian Zhenzhu replied, “Yes, what is it?”

The assistant said, “Mei Jie is looking for you.”

The two exchanged glances. Meng Kaiyan blinked. “I’m not close with the producer.”

Jian Zhenzhu said, “Me neither. Never spoken.”

So what could it be about?

Mei Rijia was now in her RV. She smiled and asked, “What time’s your flight?”

Jian Zhenzhu answered, “Not sure if we’ll finish today, so we haven’t bought tickets yet. Planning for the one just before eleven.”

“Oh, then I’ll get straight to the point,” Mei Rijia said, pulling out her phone. “Xiao Meng, do you have time after the New Year? I want to recommend you for a crew.”

Jian Zhenzhu was stunned for a moment. “Yes.”

Mei Rijia opened WeChat. “Add me, and I’ll pass your contact to Chen Yu.”

Meng Kaiyan’s eyes widened. “Chen Yu? Chen Yu who played Wu Zetian?”

“Yes. She’s preparing to shoot a movie she’s directing and starring in.”

After adding Jian Zhenzhu, Mei Rijia forwarded her contact card to Chen Yu, then studied Meng Kaiyan closely.

Her looks weren’t quite up to standard in her eyes, but her figure was good—tall enough, with decent proportions.

Mei Rijia said, “Xiao Meng, you must be about 1.68 meters tall now?”

Meng Kaiyan replied, “Yes, measured 1.69 last month.”

Mei Rijia said, “Wow! You might grow another two or three centimeters. That’s enough—too tall isn’t good for acting.”

Jian Zhenzhu sighed, “That’s a worry. You can’t let a growing teen lack nutrition, but we also fear she’ll shoot up too tall. Her dad’s very tall.”

Mei Rijia said, “Best to keep her under 1.76 meters. But don’t worry too much. Things are different now. Kids get proper nutrition. Big tall actors are everywhere in schools like the Central Academy of Drama, Beijing Film Academy, Shanghai Theatre Academy. Standing in front of you, they’re like walls—you won’t have trouble finding co-stars.”

They didn’t talk long. It was almost eight o’clock, so Jian Zhenzhu hurried Meng Kaiyan back to the hotel.

Jian Zhenzhu was very organized and had already packed their luggage. They just needed to pick it up.

After another three hours, mother and daughter returned to Shanghai.

The melancholy from wrapping this project vanished from Meng Kaiyan’s heart, replaced by eager anticipation for the next role.

Would she be chosen? She must be chosen.