`Chapter 30

Chapter 30

In the early autumn of 1932, a private salon was being held in a European-style villa on Xiafei Road in Shanghai.

The living room blended Eastern and Western styles, with pearwood official chairs and Western-style sofas occupying different corners. A phonograph played Debussy’s gentle Clair de Lune. Students who had studied abroad, young talents from prominent families, and well-known literary and artistic figures gathered in small groups. The refined aroma of tea mixed with the rich scent of coffee, creating a unique fragrance in the room.

Daisy Cheng sat by the window in a rocking chair, dressed in a neatly tailored white pantsuit that made her skin appear even more radiant than snow. Her long legs were casually crossed, toes tapping gently to the rhythm of the rocking chair. She held an original edition of Ulysses, lounging lazily like a sunbathing ragdoll cat. Even the way she turned the pages exuded an effortless elegance.

“Oh, our top student from Arrowbridge reads Joyce too?” A young man in a slightly tight suit came over holding a glass of champagne, his tone dripping with mockery. “Miss Cheng, aren’t you only interested in money?”

Daisy Cheng didn’t even lift an eyelid. Her slender fingers elegantly flipped a page. “What’s wrong with liking money? Master Chen, you don’t like money, yet you pawn your family heirloom pocket watch just to rent that outfit from Rongchangxiang?”

Low chuckles rippled around the room.

Several young ladies exchanged meaningful glances, subtly distancing themselves from the “fake rich heir.”

Being publicly called out, Master Chen’s face instantly flushed red. “Daisy Cheng! Were you also this arrogant when you were studying at Arrowbridge?”

Daisy Cheng raised an eyebrow at him, her gaze clear and sharp. “Arrowbridge never taught me humility. It taught me why I should be humble.”

“You!” Master Chen trembled with anger, stepping forward to argue, but his feet felt nailed to the ground, unable to move.

Gao Zhenxiao and Shen Wangshu had already heard the commotion and approached.

Gao Zhenxiao wore a brown flight jacket. Broad-shouldered and long-legged, he firmly pressed his right hand onto Master Chen’s shoulder. His fingers tightened with irresistible force, instantly restraining the man’s impulse.

He looked at Daisy Cheng and shook his head helplessly, though there was a trace of indulgence in his eyes. “Daisy, bullying someone again?”

“I just told the truth,” Daisy Cheng shrugged.

Shen Wangshu had his hands in his pockets, shirt collar casually open, swaggering past Master Chen, deliberately bumping him slightly. He bent down as if to grab Daisy Cheng’s book, but she nonchalantly slapped his hand away with a smack.

He wasn’t offended. Instead, he grinned at Master Chen, whose face had turned pale, and spoke teasingly, “Master Chen, don’t take it to heart. Daisy’s mouth… even we have to give her some leeway.” His gaze fell on Master Chen’s wrinkled suit, his smile broadening. “Oh, your clothes are wrinkled? Should I get you a new set?”

“Cut!”

Qing Sui Xu, holding a small megaphone, shouted with satisfaction, “Good! This one passed! This is exactly the feeling!”

Shiyin immediately detached from the “Daisy Cheng” persona, hopping over to the monitor, completely abandoning her ladylike image.

Qing Sui Xu repeatedly watched the playback. Seeing her approach, she casually dragged the frame back to Daisy Cheng gently rocking the chair, her tone full of admiration: “Look here. I used a Dolly Zoom, pulled the camera back a little, and the light and shadow of the entire space extended outward. You captured the aristocratic aura raised in wealth perfectly. The shot is flawless!”

Yan Wen also came over: “The reaction during the comeback is also excellent. Physically, you’re sitting while the other person is standing, but in terms of presence and visual focus, Daisy Cheng is absolute, the dominant center. That relaxed ease, especially the ‘too lazy to argue with you’ look in the eyes yet giving no ground, is expressed perfectly!”

Shiyin blushed with pleasure at the praise, shyly covering her heating face, and after organizing her words, said, “The Daisy Cheng I understand—her arrogance isn’t a deliberately acted temperament, but comes from a deeply rooted cognition: she naturally believes the world revolves around her. All her reactions are based on this fundamental logic.”

“Well said!” Qing Sui Xu clapped her hands firmly. “That’s the innate sense of superiority we need! But this can’t just show on your face—act it, and it’s fake; force it, and it becomes arrogance. You’ve internalized it; it’s in your bones now.”

Yan Wen observed Shiyin with interest: “Where did you study to improve? The progress speed is astonishing, practically transformative.”

“I just followed Teacher Yan’s previous guidance: observe more, think more.” Shiyin blinked innocently.

“Did you find someone to observe?” Yan Wen asked curiously.

The golden eight-trigram device could be reused, though each playback segment was random. During these recent midnight reveries, Shiyin felt like an invisible ghost, observing Li Xuan three years ago, carefree and flamboyant, piecing together countless fragmented moments to form a vivid and dimensional ‘child of heaven’ template.

“…I suppose,” Shiyin’s eyes curved into a faint arc. “I met a very good ‘teacher’ and learned what it means to have ‘innate confidence.’”

Those truly favored by the world, raised in love and resources, never need to prove anything. They also never hang their superiority on their face—because they naturally live in it, like a fish in water, breathing effortlessly.

This insight, born from genuine observation, gave Shiyin’s “Daisy Cheng” the soul belonging to that era and social class.

~

Shiyin was sitting on the lounge sofa rehearsing lines when Tian Tian entered, holding hot tea and small cookies, her eyes sparkling intensely.

She opened her mouth, caught sight of the makeup artist still tidying the corner, and swallowed her words, wildly winking at Shiyin like a squirrel leaping through a melon patch.

Finally, when the room was left with just the two of them, Tian Tian closed the door mysteriously, confirmed it was locked, and slid back swiftly.

“I have a shocking scoop. Want to hear it?”

Shiyin paused with her thermos halfway to her lips, cautiously putting it back. “I’ll listen. You go first.”

“Liang Tiancai got beaten up!” Tian Tian slapped her thigh in excitement.

Shiyin: “!!”

She raised her eyebrows slightly and sat up a bit straighter. “Is this for real?”

“There’s proof!” Tian Tian pressed her phone screen in front of Shiyin’s eyes.

On the screen played a shaky, apparently secretly filmed video. In a dimly lit underground parking garage, three burly men pinned a well-dressed man in a suit firmly against the hood of a luxury car. They cursed in heavy accents while swinging fists the size of sandbags, hitting him solidly. The man being beaten had no strength to fight back, only letting out intermittent whimpers, like a chicken with its neck squeezed, looking utterly miserable.

“You can’t even see his face clearly,” Shiyin frowned. “How do you know it’s him?”

“A tech expert adjusted the lighting; you can see the facial features,” Tian Tian said confidently. “Although I didn’t save that version…”

Shiyin picked up on a suspicious detail sharply. “Liang Yicheng usually has bodyguards and assistants when he goes out. How did he get separated?”

“I heard it was in a private club. He deliberately sent his people away,” Tian Tian gossiped. “Fans are now defending him online, saying that since you can’t see his face clearly, it can’t be their brother.”

“…A man in his forties is still called ‘brother’?” Shiyin’s expression was one of helpless disbelief.

“That’s not the point!” Tian Tian stamped her foot in frustration. “The key is that Liang Tiancai suddenly skipped tonight’s Starlight Gala. Someone spotted him at the hospital, reportedly bruised all over! Online detectives linked the two incidents, and this video went viral, though it was deleted from the whole internet in less than half an hour—”

“Good thing I was quick and saved the original!” She shook the phone proudly.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Shiyin leaned back into the sofa, her tone calm. “He was going to get beaten eventually.”

She paused slightly, feeling like she had heard these words before.

Tian Tian squinted. “Why do I feel… you already predicted this, and it’s not surprising at all?”

Shiyin picked up her thermos, sipping slowly. “Reverse Scale wrapped filming yesterday, right?”

“Mm, the official account posted an announcement.”

“Director Min has a lot of patience,” Shiyin’s lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “Truly a gentleman, waited until filming wrapped to take action.”

Tian Tian looked puzzled. “Who’s Director Min?”

“Ye Peiqian’s husband.”

Tian Tian exclaimed habitually. “…Wow.”

Several seconds passed before she realized the relationships, eyes widening as she bit down on four of her fingers silently.

~

Time passed steadily into winter break. The Arrowbridge crew had been filming in Shanghai for a week.

Qing Sui Xu’s temper had grown recently, her whole demeanor in irritability mode, like a volcano ready to erupt. It was said she borrowed many expensive aerial filming lenses through connections but remained dissatisfied with the results, feeling they lacked realism. She was scouting for a new special effects team. After all, the aerial scenes were the highlights of Arrowbridge, and she insisted on maximum live-action filming.

After work that day, the director’s assistant ran to Shiyin’s lounge, knocking on the door. “Teacher Shiyin, Teacher Zhongli invited everyone for dinner tonight. He said it’s to discuss script revisions and wants you to come too.”

Shiyin paused in the middle of removing her makeup, looking at the assistant through the mirror. “Who’s going?”

“Just the crew—several main actors and the team leaders. Director Xu and Editor Yan are going too,” the assistant handed her a sticky note. “Here, I copied the list and address.”

Shiyin took the note, her tone even. “Okay, I’ll go after I finish my makeup.”

After the assistant left, Tian Tian, who was organizing clothes nearby, immediately approached. “Can I come with you?”

Tian Tian was a bit uneasy. She had been in the industry and didn’t trust these kinds of “dinner meetings.”

Shiyin thought for a moment. “Alright, you can come to scope it out. If everything’s fine, you can eat on your own and then return to the hotel.”

Tian Tian efficiently helped her pack personal items. “Okay, I’ll wait outside for a bit. Message me anytime.”

The dinner was at a private restaurant with Su-style garden aesthetics. Small bridges and flowing water accompanied the sound of bamboo instruments, the atmosphere tranquil and elegant.

The waiter opened the private room door. Shiyin quickly scanned the room—it was indeed a legitimate internal crew dinner. Of the six main actors, five were present: Zhongli Yu, Su Feibai, male three Zheng Bin, female three Xie Jiaying… Several assistant directors and core members of the filming, props, and art departments were all present. She quietly confirmed that everyone’s preferences and dislikes were within normal ranges, secretly relieved.

Qing Sui Xu sat at the head of the table. Yan Wen and Zhongli Yu flanked her on either side, like two gatekeeping generals protecting her in the center. The three were engaged in a heated discussion.

“…I think this is the best ending for him,” Zhongli Yu tapped his fingers lightly on the table, eyes firm.

Yan Wen shook her head repeatedly. “I understand your dedication to the character, but we also have to consider the audience! The main cast has already suffered a lot. If Gao Zhenxiao leaves too, I fear the audience will send me knives… Just kidding. You need to think about the show’s reputation and long-tail effect. People nowadays like satisfying dramas, and our subject matter is already heavy enough.”

Qing Sui Xu, caught in the middle, looked completely exasperated. Seeing Shiyin enter was like seeing a savior. She waved hurriedly. “Shiyin’s here! Sit down quickly. Order whatever you want. Let’s get started on the meal.”

Shiyin obediently replied “okay” and sat in the empty seat next to Su Feibai, quietly asking him, “What are you talking about?”

“Gao Zhenxiao’s ending,” Su Feibai whispered back, “Yu Ge wants him to sacrifice himself.”

Shiyin looked around quietly and asked softly, “What about Zhen Xue? Wasn’t she invited?”

“She was, but she didn’t come,” Su Feibai raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “She’s impressive too—single-handedly isolated our whole crew.”

The waiter began serving dishes, but the argument at the other end of the table hadn’t stopped, voices gradually growing louder. Shiyin was learning set design details from the art director when the conflict suddenly reached her side.

Yan Wen, unable to argue with Zhongli Yu, called over a strong young man. “Feibai, don’t just watch. What’s your opinion? Are you for or against it?”

“Teacher Yan, spare me! I was already ‘offline’ at that time, I don’t want to get involved,” Su Feibai immediately raised both hands in surrender, smiling carelessly.

Yan Wen’s gaze swept across the table like counting troops and landed on Shiyin.

“Shiyin, what about you? As a viewer, do you prefer a happy ending or a tragic one?”

Shiyin had just sent Tian Tian a “safe, can withdraw” message and received back a sticker that said, “I’m retreating, and this retreat is forever.”

She put down her phone, thinking seriously for a moment. “A happy ending gives immediate comfort, but a tragic ending often leaves a lingering impact and is remembered longer. I can’t predict what the audience prefers, but from my perspective, Arrowbridge has never been a family-friendly work, nor suitable as light entertainment. Its core is a heavy historical story, and forcing a happy ending would actually weaken its power.”

She paused, her voice clear and firm:

“It’s not a tragic ending. It’s history.”

After she spoke, Yan Wen and Zhongli Yu both looked at her.

“Shiyin, so young, yet such profound insight,” Qing Sui Xu said with a smile.

“Well said,” the assistant director beside her clapped his hands. “If Editor Yan really can’t decide, we can film two versions. Decide during editing, or even wait for audience feedback after broadcast—it’s possible.”

Zhongli Yu was about to speak, but Yan Wen pressed her temple in frustration. “Don’t speak yet… let me think more. I really can’t accept a total annihilation ending.”

At that moment, Shiyin’s phone screen lit up silently. She looked down—it was someone she absolutely didn’t expect.

Lei Cheng, Master Cheng.

“Miss Shiyin, can you send me your location? The boss wants me to deliver something.”

It was impolite to stare at her phone at the dinner table, so Shiyin quickly shared her location and gently flipped the phone face down on the table. She had previously requested leave with Luo Wensheng and reported her recent schedule in Shanghai; Li Xuan should have known. But suddenly delivering something? And Master Cheng himself coming?

The thought had barely crossed her mind when someone at the next seat spoke to her, and she immediately forgot.

Twenty minutes later, her phone vibrated again.

“Nearby.”

Gray-white smoke began to slowly fill the private room. A few veteran smokers couldn’t resist and secretly lit their cigarettes.

The younger actors, constrained by hierarchy, didn’t dare speak and held their breath silently. Yan Wen, however, had no such restraint, rolling her eyes and flicking the script impatiently. “If you’re going to smoke, do it over there. Floating around here, the smoke is suffocating.”

The men who were called out laughed awkwardly and moved seats, the shifting chairs causing a small commotion.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Shiyin picked up her teacup and moved to the window. She had just settled in the gentle breeze when Zhongli Yu, who didn’t smoke either, was also asked to move and naturally sat in the empty seat next to her.

The evening breeze drifted through the carved wooden window, carrying the scent of osmanthus and brushing the wisps of hair at Shiyin’s temple.

While discussing the camera positioning for a shot, Zhongli Yu reached for the teapot in front of him to pour water, while Shiyin simultaneously reached for a tissue. Their movements, one high and one low, had his long fingers briefly sweep over the back of her fair hand. In the warm yellow light, the brief overlap formed a fleeting shadow of intimacy.

It was a perfectly normal movement, just a minor table-side incident. No one thought anything of it.

By the time the dinner ended, it was nearly ten o’clock, and the moonlight hazily covered the streets.

Everyone stood at the restaurant entrance discussing how to return, still carrying lingering traces of alcohol in the night air.

“Shiyin, how are you getting back?” the art director asked with concern. “It’s not safe to take a cab alone this late.”

Su Feibai’s assistant had already brought the car. He spread his hands helplessly. “I’d send you, but…” He made a slashing gesture across his neck. “You know, I’m afraid the manager will rush to Shanghai overnight.”

Shiyin nodded knowingly. “I understand, I understand.”

The gap in their celebrity levels was too big; it was completely normal for Su Feibai’s team to guard against small actors like her trying to ride his popularity.

Zhongli Yu’s black business car quietly arrived. He gave a slight nod to everyone, then bent down and got into the car, driving off.

Yan Wen sat in the front passenger seat of Qing Sui Xu’s car, rolling down the window to wave. “Shiyin, get in. We can give you a ride for a bit.”

“No, no!” Shiyin quickly waved her hand. “You’re going the opposite direction from my hotel. It would be too much of a detour.”

At that moment, a brand-new white van slowly drove forward at a snail’s pace. This street clearly prohibited parking, yet it stubbornly circled around. The front bore an audacious temporary plate, and its smooth lines gleamed elegantly under the neon lights.

Shiyin glanced at it but didn’t pay much attention, only feeling that the MPV model looked somewhat familiar.

The van, as if it had found its target, stopped steadily. The electric door slid open silently. Master Cheng, wearing white gloves, leaned out from the driver’s seat, waving enthusiastically at Shiyin. “Miss Shiyin! Here you are!”

In everyone’s astonished eyes, he clumsily patted the car body. “The boss asked me to deliver the car to you.”

Su Feibai leaned closer to inspect the van’s luxurious interior and gasped. “Whoa! Top configuration, huh? You’re really showing off!”

Shiyin: “……”

A cold breeze blew, clearing her mind. She suddenly remembered the message from Master Cheng that she had ignored.

—“The boss asked me to deliver something to you.”

So by “deliver something,” he meant a car?

No wonder. Subtle Brother… you really never play by the rules.

Amid the absurdity, Shiyin felt a strange sense of relief—thank goodness it wasn’t the overly flashy McLaren Speedtail.

“Ha ha, that’s just…” Facing everyone’s scrutinizing eyes, Shiyin said calmly, without blushing or racing heartbeat, “the company’s car.”

“What company? Benefits are this good…” Su Feibai, loosened by the alcohol, asked curiously.

Shiyin’s eyelids twitched. “You’d better go back!”

Author’s Note: No company, sole proprietorship.