Chapter 80

Chapter 80

Chi Tuo slept until noon that day.

When An Ye woke up, he was actually already awake, or rather, he hadn't fully fallen asleep yet.

In her drowsy state, An Ye felt her watch vibrate, and after a while, she got up.

She used to be slow in the mornings, especially in winter. When they were younger, before they had to worry about propriety, they would go to school together. In the winter, he would have to run several laps downstairs just to wait for her to come down. They even fought about it a few times, and later, he stopped waiting for her. He would just go upstairs when he reached her house, find something cold to press against her forehead, and then chaos would ensue.

But now, she no longer lazes around in bed.

After getting up, she quietly got out of bed and even took Old Bai, who was lying on his legs, away.

Chi Tuo let out a sound.

An Ye patted him gently, her voice soft: “You can continue sleeping, it's still early.”

Chi Tuo didn’t open his eyes and just fell back to sleep. In the end, he didn’t even know when An Ye left.

When he woke up, there was a sticky note on the fridge telling him to rest at home today and not to visit the set. She was going to jump off a building all day.

She wrote on the note: "It's not good to have you here, I would feel burdened if you came."

The note was hurriedly written, the handwriting messy.

Chi Tuo didn’t know how others experienced love, but he was deeply fascinated by the feeling he had now. The sense of complete trust and security made even his worries feel like a kind of enjoyment.

All the drifting thoughts now had a place to land, and he felt grounded.

Days passed like this, one after another.

In the filming crew, An Ye seemed like she lived in an ivory tower, feeling somewhat detached from the world. She spent days shooting, and when she wasn’t filming late into the night, Qi Wei would come over to discuss the post-wrap promotion for the film.

It had been a whole month since she last fell asleep in Chi Tuo’s arms.

During this month, she hadn’t had any long breaks that allowed her to return to Bai Gang City. Chi Tuo had come twice, but with so many eyes watching at the crew, he mostly came for business, holding meetings in the RV with Qi Wei and others.

Even holding hands would get noticed by Lan Yifang, who would send her cute expressions like "blushing cheeks," so An Ye didn’t dare to be too intimate.

Over the month, An Ye still seemed the same as before. She was invested in her acting, remained emotionally calm after shooting, had regular psychological consultations, and occasionally posted on Weibo. Her relationship seemed like just daily video calls.

But when An Ye was filming the scene with A Jiao, her gaze toward the model was the same as the one Chi Tuo gave her.

That complex, intense emotion caused the model to forget his lines four times. In the end, he blushed, bowed to An Ye, and said, “An Ye, you’re too good at acting, I just couldn’t keep up.”

It also made Yang Zhengyi smile whenever he saw her. The old man, very curious, asked if she was in love, saying that her whole demeanor had changed, and she was in a much better state.

An Ye didn’t deny it.

Sometimes, she felt a bit useless, as though she never really had a firm anchor. She used to think that Wang Shanshan could hold her up, even when life was so difficult, and she never thought of withdrawing.

But when Chi Tuo returned, she replaced that anchor with him.

Chi Tuo was more reliable than her mother, and because of him, her life had become better than before.

This thought, she subtly mentioned to Chi Tuo.

Chi Tuo, still waiting to board, only asked her to think about what Qing Ze would do if she were in her position, wanting to break the contract with Huanyou. What could he do to help her?Chapter 80

Without acting skills, without the position of a leading actress who can support herself, or in other words, if during these ten years, she had only once listened to Wang Shanshan’s advice about how female celebrities live off their youth and should avoid delving into acting, and had gone ahead and acted in a bad movie, opened that door, and then met someone like Yan Wan, what kind of actor would she be now?

If she hadn’t made these persistent efforts, Chi Tuo might not have been able to help her at all.

"Your anchor is yourself." Chi Tuo said to her before boarding the plane, "Being able to turn down Director Yang Zhengyi’s invitation, choosing to slowly cultivate someone like Lan Yifang, who’s not particularly suitable to be an assistant, and being able to firmly tell me to try and not let go — all of this confidence comes from you, not from me or your mother."

After they reunited, Chi Tuo had praised her many times, and she always took it as a form of comfort. But this time, perhaps because Chi Tuo had to turn off his phone and wait for the flight, giving her time to think, or perhaps because he had continuously been telling her how amazing she was, this cumulative effect finally brought about a shift in her perspective.

This time, she really felt a little bit of pride.

After being an actress for so many years, even after winning major domestic acting awards and almost completing the rounds of international ones, even when the media, fans, and strangers praised her acting to the skies, she never felt this kind of pride.

Because in her heart, she knew how much she had given to achieve this "unmatched" acting. She thought that those awards and praises were just the result of her efforts. After all, very few people would act in a way that consumed their life, and even fewer would treat acting as a safe haven for survival.

That’s why she was a genius in the film industry and why she could dominate.

She had thought that her efforts were just to prove Wang Shanshan wrong, just like Wang Shanshan was still desperately trying to prove she was right.

She hadn’t considered that these efforts might eventually pull her out of the mire.

It seemed, she was actually a little bit amazing.

After finishing her final scene and makeup, An Ye made a victory sign in front of the mirror. It was rare for her to post a selfie on Weibo, though she didn’t add any words, only two sun emoji. Before posting, she thought of Qu Xiang Xiangtian Ge, so she added one more sun emoji.

She had to post a multiple of three, or else the obsessive-compulsive disorder would make him uncomfortable for a long time.

The final wrap-up scene.

The set was lively, Qi Wei had booked a luxury catering van, with coffee, cakes, and all kinds of desserts. The set also had posters of the actors' character photos hanging up.

Yang Zhengyi, who usually didn’t care much about publicity, lowered his head for this transformation project. There were quite a few media present at the wrap-up scene, and because there were so many outsiders, Yang Zhengyi seemed especially irritable.

Thankfully, this scene wasn’t difficult.

The last scene in City of Sunlight.

The police officer played by Zhao Linjun finally found out that the person who killed his niece wasn’t A Lin, but by the time he got the information, he had already gone too far in search of his niece's remains. Taking off his police uniform, he made one last visit to the Ninth Hospital before being handcuffed.

A Lin, standing with the model in the garden, held a huge bouquet of sunflowers, almost unable to hold it, smiling at each other, with no one else left in their eyes.

At this moment, A Lin was both A Jiao and A Lin herself.

To shoot this scene well, Yang Zhengyi specially chose the time at around 4 pm, when the sunlight was perfect and slightly slanted. The warm slanting sunlight illuminated A Lin’s face, and she smiled, burying her face in the sunflowers.

One take.

Yang Zhengyi shouted "OK."

Lan Yifang rushed up to hand An Ye a huge down jacket.

The entire set applauded, some people sent flowers, some whistled, and others cried.

An Ye smiled as she hugged each of the main creators, many of them in tears, but her eyes didn’t redden.

She had put in so much effort to portray A Lin. She had run to the Ninth Hospital in the freezing cold early mornings to observe, immersing herself so deeply in the role that she became stiff. She even argued with Wang Shanshan about how to act. In the four months of filming, she put every bit of her own flesh and blood into the character of A Lin, shaping and activating her into a real person in another world.

Now, it was all over.She was still tightly holding the bouquet of sunflowers the model had given her. The actress playing the model was a newcomer slightly taller than her, whose main job was modeling, and it was her first time acting in a movie. At that moment, she stood next to An Ye, crying like a tearful mess.

Every time An Ye found herself in such situations, she always felt out of place.

She didn’t want to let go of A Lin, but with everyone around her so emotionally charged, her complex reluctance seemed hard to express.

Many actors, crying with red eyes and hugging each other, took group photos. But when they saw An Ye standing in the middle of the crowd, holding the sunflowers, they instinctively avoided her, even though she was the lead.

The only actor who approached her was Zhao Linjun. He slapped An Ye on the shoulder in a friendly manner and said, “Kid, see you in our next movie!”

An Ye tore off a sunflower and handed it to him.

Then, slowly, she took apart the entire bouquet and handed the flowers to everyone who passed by.

The expressions of those who received the sunflowers varied—some were surprised, some were shocked, and some were delighted. An Ye remembered every one of their expressions, a reflection of ordinary people’s feelings toward A Lin, who had already "fallen."

At a usual wrap-up event, it’s the creators who receive the flowers, but An Ye, as the lead, had never seen anyone dismantle props and hand them out to others.

This was something she would never have done when she was still with Fantasy Dawn. Back then, Yan Wan had been waiting for her emotions to completely unravel. She would never have dared to act in such a seemingly crazy way.

Now, she dared a little.

Everyone had been exhausted after working together for months. Yang Zhengyi wasn’t just strict with her; he demanded perfection from everyone. Every final take that he confirmed required multiple attempts. The props team had worked so hard they had bald patches. This time, the 16-year-old girl who played Zhao Linjun’s murdered niece had a lot of flashback scenes. Originally, multiple camera angles would’ve sufficed, but Yang Zhengyi insisted that each shot had slightly different visual elements, so the girl had to be on standby every day. What was supposed to be two weeks of filming stretched into five months.

Then there was the girl who played A Lin’s split personality, Jia Jia. Her scenes had already wrapped up, but the girl didn’t even understand what she was acting. Most of her scenes were shot with green screens indoors.

Today, at the wrap-up, her mother had dragged her here. Jia Jia stood in a corner while her mother busied herself handing out her daughter’s promotional photos to the director and staff.

An Ye squeezed through the crowd and handed a sunflower to Jia Jia.

She patted her head, but in the end, didn’t say anything.

When she handed out the sunflowers, she hadn’t really thought much. It was because A Lin had smiled in the movie when she smelled the sunflower's oily fragrance, so she decided to share that feeling with everyone who had been part of the film's production.

This moment was captured by the promotional team, and after confirming with Qi Wei, Sunlight City's official Weibo account posted a separate update. A 30-second video was shared, showing An Ye still in A Lin's costume—her slender figure, a faint smile on her face, quietly moving through the bustling crowd and handing sunflowers to everyone. The background in the video was colorful, but An Ye and the sunflowers in her hand were edited into cool tones with lower saturation. The video ended with a monologue from A Lin in the movie.

"I stand on the street, feeling like I'm wearing an invisible cloak. No one looks at me. I can’t feel their joy, anger, or sadness."

"I can’t find the meaning of my existence."

Qi Wei also reposted it on An Ye's Weibo in her style—no words, just a simple repost.

An Ye's emotion, expressed so differently from the crowd, was captured in such a straightforward manner. The promotional effect was unexpectedly good, and soon, Sunlight City's wrap-up became a trending topic.

An Ye didn’t know any of this.

Screenwriter Zhu cried again. Watching An Ye hand out sunflowers all over the set, her tears, which had already stopped, started flowing again, and she cried loudly.

Yang Zhengyi, standing nearby, rolled his eyes while looking for tissues, and casually pointed at An Ye, saying, "The wrap-up dinner is at the hotel tonight. I’ve sent the address to your agent. Go wash up and rest, then come over."

"I’ve got the script for you," he added.

"I’m not doing your movie anymore," An Ye said decisively.

Yang Zhengyi almost wanted to hit her. His cigarette shook a little as he replied, "It’s someone else's movie. Aren’t you supposed to be doing a romance movie?"

An Ye smiled.

Her phone vibrated.Chí Tuò: [Turn around, I'm on your right.]

Ān Yě paused, then turned around.

Chí Lǜ was dressed in an all-black down jacket, which she found quite unattractive. Beside him was a black suitcase, and in his hands was a bouquet of flowers, not roses—seems like lilies.

Chí Lǜ, who insisted on maintaining a retro black-and-white photo style, actually looked quite appealing at this moment.

Ān Yě smiled, still holding the last sunflower in her hand.

"Here." She ran towards Chí Tuò and handed him the flowers.

That was the feeling of A Lin removing the invisible cloak, given to the person who made Ān Yě begin to face Ān Jiǔjiǔ properly.