Traffic jam. Traffic jam.
Jia He felt stifled as she looked at the time on her phone, her heart beating faster and faster. The press conference had already started, but she was still stuck in traffic, the destination nowhere in sight. Who would have thought there’d be so much traffic on Valentine’s Day? All the taxis in Shanghai were filled with couples, and it took her an hour just to get a taxi, not to mention the traffic jam. She’d be lucky if there was anyone but the staff left at the venue by the time she arrived.
The driver seemed to sense Jia He’s mood and kept reassuring her with a smile that they’d arrive soon.
“Don’t worry, men are supposed to wait, especially today.”
Jia He looked out the window grievously: “I just hope he’ll actually wait.” Screenwriters usually didn’t have much to do at press conferences, she wasn’t an actor or director after all. Who was waiting for her?
“You brought luggage with you, and he’s still not going to wait?”
Jia He glanced at the driver through the rearview mirror, noticing his bright expectant eyes. She had wanted to explain, but simply wasn’t in the mood to talk. The press conference would end and the crew would head to Hengdian right after, so of course she brought luggage. But the idea of a woman dragging a suitcase into the Hilton Hotel on Valentine’s Day…anyone would get ideas.
The traffic lights turned from red to green to red again, changing for no one since not a single car could move.
By the time the taxi crawled its way to the hotel entrance, it was almost 6 pm.
Jia He dragged her luggage as she walked to the hotel entrance, noticing a few young girls waiting prettily for their idols despite the cold wind. She wondered which group were Yi Wenze’s fans, and felt a bit embarrassed realizing she would soon see him in person. By the time she noticed the doorman eyeing her suspiciously, she finally snapped out of her daze.
After two years of screenwriting, she had always been able to keep her cool, but her disguise had completely crumbled.
The elevator doors opened and Qiao Qiao almost threw her phone at Jia He. “I can’t believe you’re only just arriving now,” she said as she snatched Jia He’s luggage and briskly walked into the event hall.
The backdrop was wall-high, with dozens of rows of seats and lights illuminating the room.
They were currently in the individual interview stage, with the main cast scattered around the venue, surrounded by cameras and recorders. The female lead had claimed the prettiest backdrop, striking a perfect pose. As a newly risen idol in mainland China, her smile was still a bit awkward. When they were casting the role, Jia He didn’t even know her name and had to look her up online. She really couldn’t imagine how this girl could play a noble Tang dynasty lady, but looking at her now, at least her figure…matched.
Qiao Qiao suddenly pulled Jia He and pointed to the right side of the stage.
Naturally, that spot belonged to Yi Wenze.
Behind him was a backdrop of the brightly lit Ming dynasty palace under the night sky.
Despite being surrounded by over a dozen reporters, his height allowed glimpses of his side profile in between the cameras. His short black hair and piercing gaze looked so real that Jia He found herself staring blankly.
At that moment, a very young reporter was asking him questions. Perhaps from nervousness or some other reason, her words stumbled a bit and her face flushed slightly. But he only smiled gently and listened patiently until she finished asking, then politely answered her questions. From this distance, Jia He could vaguely hear his voice – the imperfect Mandarin was so familiar yet so foreign.
“After the interviews, I’ll have the director introduce you two,” Qiao Qiao whispered. “It won’t mean much coming from a small producer like me if I introduce you. A famous director like him will make more of an impression.”
Before Jia He could react, Qiao Qiao had already squeezed herself into the reporter crowd, a big smile plastered on her face.
Jia He watched as Director Jiang walked over to Yi Wenze’s side. Yi Wenze had just finished taking group photos with some young reporters and politely sent them away when he saw the director. Only then did the polite, distant look on his face soften a little as he exchanged a few words with Director Jiang in Cantonese. From her limited grasp of the dialect, Jia He gathered they were discussing the script.
Just as she was wondering how to discretely slip away, a reporter had already rushed over, eager to interview Director Jiang.
Yi Wenze looked at her. “Let’s go get some drinks.”
With no excuse to escape, Jia He awkwardly followed him to the side of the long table and accepted the orange juice he handed her.
He also took an orange juice, long fingers wrapped around the glass. His joints seemed well-maintained, but like all actors, the palms of his hands revealed fine scars and roughness accumulated over many years.
“Any issues?” he asked suddenly.
Jia He looked up and met his questioning gaze, only to realize she had been staring blankly at his hand. She quickly smiled. “Nothing much, just lamenting the hardships you actors endure.”
Yi Wenze understood what she meant and chuckled. “It’s not too bad actually. The actresses have it a bit tougher since no matter how well they maintain the backs of their hands, the palms still roughen up over time, especially in ancient costumes.”
Jia He smiled. “That’s true. Fighting with swords, reins and armor every day, even the best hand cream is useless.”
Humble, polite, low-key – these were the evaluations from many who had worked with him. And it did seem to ring true now.
Jia He was just casually chatting with him, awkwardly holding her orange juice. She had only dared to drink half before not taking another sip. It felt like her first job interview after university graduation – outwardly calm but inwardly chaotic, afraid of leaving any bad impression with a wrong look or gesture.
Moreover, the person before her was her decade-long idol.
When Yi Wenze first debuted, she had just graduated middle school. The teenage Yi Wenze was a youth idol. In that era when Chinese films were still rare, he unexpectedly got an opportunity and became popular across the Strait for many years. Although he had semi-retired behind the scenes now, his works were still thriving.
Suddenly, Qiao Qiao’s voice rang out, urging everyone to hurry with the interviews since the crew would be leaving soon.
Because of those words, many reporters who had been watching from afar swarmed over, politely interrupting the two of them in hopes of getting a private interview. Jia He tactfully moved aside and walked out of the banquet hall, grabbing some desserts from the long dining table to quickly fill her stomach. Then she sat in an inconspicuous corner, waiting for Qiao Qiao’s assistant to come bring her onto the vehicle.
After some unknown amount of time, her phone suddenly vibrated. Surprisingly, it was Qiao Qiao’s voice: “Help me find Yi Wenze. His assistant is next to me but dumb as a wooden block, doesn’t even know where he is,” her voice was muffled by the wind as if she were outdoors, and she sounded extremely unhappy. “That divorced wife of his is being interviewed right now. Hurry and bring him onto the car before reporters catch wind of this. My boss hates malicious hype. This is so annoying!”
As Qiao Qiao spoke, she told people to drive the car over.
Jia He was shocked by everything she heard. After hanging up, she realized this screenwriter had been ordered around like an assistant by Qiao Qiao.
But she also knew it was best to find Yi Wenze now. Not only did Qiao Qiao’s boss detest malicious hype, Yi Wenze himself had always avoided such news. Even as his diehard fan, Jia He only learned about his two-year marriage from the breakup announcement that happened over half a month ago.
She had come here several times and was relatively familiar with the place. Leaving her glass behind, she inconspicuously weaved between the actors and reporters, examining every corner but unable to find a trace of him.
After circling the event hall two or three times, Jia He finally remembered the stairwell that few people passed through.
Pushing open the door, the only light inside the stairwell was a dim white. It was very quiet. Yi Wenze stood at the corner, phone completely off. The white light from his phone flashed briefly between his fingers before he fell silent, only looking up when Jia He appeared at the door.
Jia He felt strangely guilty under his gaze. “Qiao Qiao asked me to bring you down.”
He nodded. “Alright, thanks.”
The polite, smiling Yi Wenze of the press conference was gone. He just silently smoked his cigarette, no longer looking at Jia He.
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