Chapter 67

Chapter 67

When Half a Life of Splendor held its preview screening, the crew organized a fan meet-and-greet.

A few months ago, during the promotional tour for Graceful Sway, Pei Chuzhi had always had Xing Ye by her side. Now she was the sole lead of Half a Life of Splendor, with all promotional focus on her alone, and the pressure on her shoulders was obvious.

No matter how nervous she was, the preview screening arrived on schedule.

Media and audience members filled the theater; looking around, it was a sea of black, impossible to see clearly.

Thinking that all these people had come for her film, Pei Chuzhi felt increasingly uncertain. Just like no matter how successful a singer is, there’s no guarantee they won’t forget the lyrics on stage, no matter how much effort she put into filming, until the moment of audience feedback, her mood could not be truly calm.

Shortly after taking her seat, the lights dimmed.

A rich, melodious cello accompaniment slowly opened the film’s prologue.

Pei Chuzhi heard her own voice echo through the theater: “The first time I fell in love was when I was eighteen…”

This wasn’t the first time she had heard her voice in a film, but the deliberately added tone of maturity and weariness sounded especially unfamiliar to her.

The lighting gradually shifted from the mottled darkness to brightness.

Knowing the person on the screen was herself, Pei Chuzhi stepped out of the actor’s mindset and tried to view the scene from the audience’s perspective, to meet the girl seeing herself for the first time.

On a high school campus field, eighteen-year-old Zhuo Wei was playing badminton with classmates. Under the sunlight, her skin was thin and fair, and her flushed face from exercise resembled a summer peach.

Bo Ruxu beside her quietly praised, “Well acted.”

Pei Chuzhi smiled, finally feeling some relief.

As the film progressed, Pei Chuzhi witnessed with the audience Zhuo Wei experiencing joy, loss, madness, and recovery, until near the end of the movie, no longer young, but her gaze remained bright.

Forty-year-old Zhuo Wei returned to her hometown to visit family. Passing the restaurant where she once had her first-date with her first love, she walked in thoughtfully.

The restaurant’s decor had long since changed, only the row of trees outside remained unchanged, faintly recalling the scenery of those days.

Coincidentally, Zhuo Wei saw her first love pass by the window with his wife and child, laughing together as they walked away. Zhuo Wei paused, thoughtful, and eventually showed a relieved smile.

The restaurant owner placed a bowl of wontons on the table in front of her, looking at her seriously: “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.   𝕊ĦＵ᙭.¢𝔬ᗰ  ”

A new romance seemed about to begin, yet the surrounding lights quietly dimmed, focusing solely on Zhuo Wei, and gradually faded to black.

The story ended here, leaving a lingering echo.

When the lights above brightened again, the theater erupted in applause.

Pei Chuzhi heard someone behind her quietly sobbing, perhaps recalling personal experiences through Zhuo Wei’s growth.

Her tightly clenched fingers had unknowingly relaxed. When the host invited the entire crew on stage, Pei Chuzhi stood, turned around, and bowed deeply to the audience.

She had dressed especially elegantly today, wearing a smoky pink blouse under a crisp black casual blazer, exuding both charm and vigor. The contrasting qualities surprisingly harmonized on her.

When she lifted her head, the confident smile on her face further enhanced her beauty.

Several crew members were invited on stage to share insights and experiences from filming.

During the audience Q&A, the host handed another microphone to Pei Chuzhi: “Then let’s have our Zizi choose the first audience member.”

Pei Chuzhi took the microphone, scanned the audience, and was about to call on a girl in the front rows, when she noticed many audience members in the farther rows pointing to a corner: “Here!”

Following their direction, Pei Chuzhi looked and was momentarily stunned.

A man wearing a baseball cap dressed very inconspicuously, the brim pulled low, his face barely visible.

Yet no matter how bundled up he was, Pei Chuzhi could recognize him by his figure alone.

Only Xing Ye could dare such a bold action.

A smile appeared on Pei Chuzhi’s lips: “The audience member in the seventh row, far left, is that okay?”

Front-row audience members turned around, and the moment the man removed his baseball cap, a collective gasp erupted.

Xing Ye revealed his sharply handsome face, expression calm as still water.

He seemed unconcerned about the small commotion he caused, and when he took the microphone, his voice remained clear and magnetic: “Hello, teachers.”

His tone was quite polite, as if he were just an ordinary audience member.

The crew, having experienced initial surprise, now all smiled and greeted him in turn.

Pei Chuzhi looked at Xing Ye from afar, thinking of how he had also been busy with his own film promotions lately, sending her densely packed schedules every day, yet somehow managing to carve out a few hours of free time to secretly blend into the audience and watch a midnight screening.

Could it be because she had said she wanted to see him yesterday?

Pei Chuzhi momentarily lost focus, then asked,

“Do you have any questions you want to ask?”

“One,” Xing Ye raised an eyebrow, a smile hidden in his voice, “Are you still worried that someone might think a film starring a sheep would make more box office than you?”

Pei Chuzhi: “…”

Others: “???”

What had they just heard?

The host, full of question marks, represented everyone and asked, “I feel like there’s definitely a story behind this. Zizi, do you want to share it with us?”

Pei Chuzhi hadn’t expected Xing Ye to remember that line, nor that he would bring it up publicly. Without caring whether he could see her, she couldn’t help but glare at him from afar.

Unexpectedly, others interpreted this moment as gossip, and even Bo Ruxu urged her to speak.

Pei Chuzhi had no choice but to omit the parts inappropriate for public sharing, and said that when she first planned to take on Half a Life of Splendor, she had been so nervous she had a nightmare.

Before she finished, laughter erupted throughout the theater; no one had ever seen an actress with such a peculiar way of thinking.

Amid the continuous laughter, Xing Ye’s calm voice sounded again: “So, are you still worried now?”

After seeing the lead actress’s first film, was she still worried she would waste the efforts of the entire crew?

Worried that she was just an unknown actress, incapable of stepping into the spotlight for everyone to see?

“No more worries,” Pei Chuzhi replied softly. “I am honored to have participated in this film, to meet so many outstanding colleagues, and of course, I am grateful for the recognition and support of the audience. I will always remember the applause you gave when the lights came on just now.”

She slightly turned her body to look at the crew who had accompanied her growth, then turned again to the audience, her tone sincere: “Thank you, everyone.”

The applause from the audience grew even louder than before.

Xing Ye handed the microphone back to the staff, standing among the crowd, lightly applauding her.

No one understood better than him that the girl on stage, though appearing glamorous and confident, was often nervous and insecure.

That nervousness did not stem from a lack of self-confidence, but from the reality that an actor’s performance is affected by too many objective factors; until the final moment, no one could guarantee the film’s result.

Xing Ye felt immensely fortunate that he had personally chosen Half a Life of Splendor for her.

And his expectations were not disappointed.

Today, Pei Chuzhi had transformed into an even more dazzling presence.

The meet-and-greet ended about ten minutes later. Back in the backstage makeup room, Pei Chuzhi didn’t have to wait long before the enthusiastic audience member Xing Ye was brought over by the staff.

Once the staff left, Pei Chuzhi stepped forward, hugged Xing Ye, and kissed him.

Xing Ye wrapped his arms around her waist, lowering his head to kiss her slowly.

“How did I do?” After a kiss, Pei Chuzhi softly asked.

Although phrased as a question, her tone was drawn out, soft and sweet, more like a girlfriend seeking praise.

“Better than I imagined,” Xing Ye looked into her bright eyes. “Finally able to relax now?”

In the past few days, Pei Chuzhi had been fretting every time she mentioned Half a Life of Splendor.

Although it was her first true film role, with Graceful Sway already shining before it, if she failed to impress this time, her audience’s favorability would be greatly reduced.

As a result, even battle-hardened Xing Ye couldn’t help but care.

Pei Chuzhi blinked in his arms: “Are you annoyed with me being naggy?”

Without waiting for a reply, she poked his chest and playfully said, “Even if you’re annoyed, it’s useless—I’m clinging to you anyway.”

Xing Ye chuckled softly, letting her playfully exaggerate.

Pei Chuzhi, not a true drama queen, finally satisfied her little spoiled-girlfriend urge, released him, and asked, “Director Bo and the others said they’re going out to celebrate later. Do you want to come?”

Xing Ye shook his head: “I have to leave soon; the car’s waiting outside.”

“So rushed?”

Pei Chuzhi remembered that his schedule for the past couple of days had him in nearby cities. Driving now, he could still reach before dawn. But thinking that he had traveled so far just to come, her joy was half replaced by concern.

Her toes tapped the ground intermittently: “Forget it this time, but don’t do this again. And when will you fix this habit of sudden surprises? Every time you come to see me without a word.”

Though her words were scolding, her eyes were full of tender affection, and even the gaze she met his with felt like a subtle caress.

Xing Ye lowered his eyes, a trace of a smile flickering at the corners.

“I like giving you surprises. Is that not allowed?” His smile lazy, his voice relaxed. “This habit’s lifelong; deal with it.”

Pei Chuzhi blushed at the meaning behind his words, quickly looking away, biting her lip to calm herself, then turned back and retorted, unwilling to yield: “Young and already suffering from a chronic illness, and someone like you—only I would put up with it.”

Xing Ye paused, then leaned against the wall, laughing.

After he’d laughed enough, he pulled Pei Chuzhi close and kissed her again, as if trying to memorize her taste. Only after her lipstick was smudged did he finally relent.

“Feeling much better. Looks like this illness of mine really needs you to cure it.”

As he spoke, Xing Ye lifted the back of his hand and leisurely wiped the lipstick she’d left on him.

Pei Chuzhi watched the lipstick fade from his lips, every movement slowed as if intentionally filmed, handsome and enticing, making her reluctant to blink.

After a few words in the makeup room, Xing Ye received a call from Xiao Zhou and had to leave.

Pei Chuzhi saw her boyfriend off, then sat before the makeup mirror, unable to fully face her reflection.

Her lips glistened after being moisturized, the vintage red color slightly spreading past the lip line—a clear sign of how wild her boyfriend’s style was.

She reapplied her makeup and, once her cheeks cooled, took her phone to find the rest of the crew next door.

As soon as she opened the door, lively conversation filled the room.

The producer nearest the door glanced back at her: “Where’s Teacher Xing?”

“He still has work to handle, so he left first,” Pei Chuzhi asked, “What are you all talking about?”

The producer replied: “We just finished the preview. Audience feedback was great. I was betting with Director Bo on whether you can get a Best Actress nomination.”

Pei Chuzhi froze, suddenly realizing a tricky problem.

Given the quality of Half a Life of Splendor, it was sure to earn multiple festival nominations. And Graceful Sway had a box office hit on Valentine’s Day, so it was guaranteed to be in this festival’s competition.

So when the time comes…

Which crew would she walk the red carpet with?