WAM CH30

“It’s like this, explaining it is a bit troublesome, so I just won’t explain it.” Shao Si sat on the toilet lid and changed his position, lowering his bent leg again. “I’ll just stream for half an hour first… There’s another stream tonight. Let me ask a question, if I livestream myself sleeping, will you guys watch?”

“Don’t spam so fast; I’m going to go blind… You’ll all watch, right? Then I’ll stream it tonight.” Shao Si narrowed his eyes, picking and choosing through the countless crazily scrolling comments. “…Sleep with whom? What do you mean, sleep with whom? Your thoughts are quite rich for such young ages.”

Shao Si automatically filtered out the three words ‘Gu Yanzhou’ and then sadly discovered there were barely any comments left to read.

He finally found one, which was asking if he was cold.

Shao Si looked down at the large, completely unwarm sweater he was wearing, then raised his head and said, “I’m cold. Here, I would like to grandly introduce my stylist, Miss Lisa. Her Weibo is ‘Lisa Little Dog Egg’. If possible, please help me pass on a message to her: I really want to wear a down jacket.”

Bringing up his stylist, Shao Si found a topic to chat with them about: “She discriminates against me by wearing a miniskirt in the dead of winter, saying things like wearing a down jacket makes you less of a man. She’s simply being unreasonable.”

Li Guangzong knocked on the stall door. “Watch what you say. Lisa got her hands on a see-through top a while ago, and she’s been coveting you, wanting you to model it for her for a long time.”

“…She won’t get the chance.”

Some fast-typing comrades had already reached the battlefield, and they returned to the livestream with a mixture of tears and laughter to comment: Daddy Shao! What ‘Little Dog Egg’! Her name is clearly ‘Little Fairy’!!

You’re done for! Just wait to wear that see-through top!!

Although Lisa’s Weibo was also a verified big-V account, everyone usually assumed she was a beauty and fashion blogger. She never used Shao Si to hype herself up, and even when she posted about him, she used the pronoun ‘he’. The more netizens dug, the more amusing they found it, because her Weibo was filled with roasts about Shao Si.

For example, this post: I’m so angry today. What kind of ridiculous suggestion is it to wear long johns under ripped jeans?! Are these two crazy? Everyday I want to resign [/shrug].

As a result, Lisa’s Weibo was instantly overrun.

The livestream time passed quickly. Shao Si reminded them, “There are five minutes left—”

—Don’t ah QAQ! Stream a bit longer ahhhhhhh! 

—Has anyone noticed Daddy Shao’s expression? He looks extremely impatient to finish. 

—Friendly reminder: To all the friends who just arrived, this toilet stream is about to conclude successfully. See you tonight for the sleep stream.

“Five minutes left, what should we talk about?” Shao Si thought for a moment. “Aren’t livestreams supposed to include saying things like ‘Thank you so-and-so for the little rocket’…”

Ignoring the vast netizens’ objections.

Shao Si acted as an announcer: “Thank you ‘Salted Fish’ for the rose…”

However, after saying a couple of sentences, he felt incredibly silly. He finally rubbed his nose and said, “How about this? I learned a couple of lines of traditional opera this morning; I’ll sing them for you.”

Shao Si’s opera singing wasn’t professional; one could tell from his breath control that he was quite amateurish. However, he had just entered the field, and his natural talent was considered quite good. Especially those few winding, clear notes that sounded like a zither—rather than sounding mournful and resentful, they actually carried a bit of the unique coldness inherent in Shao Si’s voice.

When Shao Si sang, he habitually closed his eyes slightly.

Only when the final note concluded did he slowly open his eyes, making people feel that the slight upward curve at the corner of his eyes was just like his voice, ironing out into a ripple.

Millions of netizens: Even though I don’t understand what he’s singing… it sounds so good!!

After singing a short snippet, Shao Si checked the time again and said without any lingering attachment, “Time’s up. I’m closing the stream; goodbye.”

“Are you really going to livestream yourself sleeping tonight?” As the two walked out of the restroom, Li Guangzong still found it hard to imagine the scene.

Shao Si: “What else? Should I livestream myself playing Honor of Kings?”

Li Guangzong: “…”

“By the way, there’s a jacket in the nanny van. If you’re cold, I’ll go get it for you.”

After saying this, Li Guangzong turned and jogged towards the garage.

Shao Si didn’t stop his steps, wandering unsteadily toward the classroom where his lessons were held. However, just as he was about to reach the door, a few barely audible sounds came from the ajar door of the adjacent room.

—It was Ye Xuan.

He tentatively pushed the door open and peeked inside but didn’t see anyone.

Following the sound, he walked to the door of a small room in the corner.

It was a small storage room used for props. Its location was hidden, and without looking closely, it was hard to notice there was a small door in the corner at all. Sometimes, when things piled up too much on set, they would be shoved in there.

Shao Si stopped at the door, not daring to go any further—because the voice was already very close. Although separated by a door panel, making some syllables blurry and hard to distinguish, the general meaning could still be inferred from the louder, fragmented words.

Ye Xuan sounded like she was in a very bad mood, yet she was trying to suppress this excessive excitement, asking with feigned calmness, “Then when can I see him?”

He couldn’t tell what was said on the other end. Ye Xuan paced back and forth inside in silence.

Several times she paced to the door and stopped, making Shao Si think she was going to push the door open and come out. However, every time he braced himself, her footsteps retreated again.

“…I didn’t mean that,” Ye Xuan calmed down, her tone returning to its usual soft and melodious cadence. “Alright, then please pass on a message to the Old Gentleman for me.”

This Old Gentleman…

Who was he?

Shao Si silently memorized this title in his heart.

Just as he was pondering, the door clicked open with a clack.

Ye Xuan’s forward momentum instantly halted, and she took two steps back, a hint of concealed scrutiny in her eyes: “Why are you here?”

Shao Si blinked, lying without changing his expression: “I’m looking for Gu Yanzhou.”

After speaking, he noticed Ye Xuan was still observing him.

Shao Si knew exactly how to act to make her believe him. A perfectly measured amount of helplessness and confusion flowed into his eyes: “I just came in. I heard some noise here and wanted to come over and take a look, and then you opened the door… Sorry, did I scare you?”

Sure enough, Ye Xuan relaxed. Although she was still a bit stiff, she managed a polite smile and said, “No.”

“That’s good then.”

Just as Shao Si was about to say something else, he saw Ye Xuan raise her hand and point behind him. The way her pale, slender fingertips tapped twice in the air was like a butterfly about to spread its wings—the poise cultivated from years of singing opera was no joke.

He mused internally, wondering if after shooting this film, he would become a ‘veteran actor’ who trembled his fingers in the air every time he pointed at something.

Then Ye Xuan said, “Mr. Gu is at the door.”

“…” Speak of the devil, and the devil arrives.

Gu Yanzhou walked over carrying a script. Because the indoor temperature was relatively high, he had taken off his coat, wearing only a single black shirt underneath. He bent down and casually placed the script on the table, saying, “I heard you’re looking for me?”

Shao Si thought to himself, Why did you come so fast, I haven’t even finished making up an excuse yet.

“Yeah, that’s right.” He braced himself, walked forward, and stood opposite Gu Yanzhou.

Under Gu Yanzhou’s up-and-down scrutiny, Shao Si pulled a fifty-yuan bill from his pocket, then fished out a few coins, and stuffed them all into his hand: “Here… or do you prefer an Alipay transfer?”

Gu Yanzhou: “You’re really picking a fight with me, aren’t you?”

Shao Si: “Of course not, I don’t mean that at all.”

After speaking, he secretly glanced at Ye Xuan again, feeling that this girl was truly unfathomable.

She was extremely adept at drawing boundaries with people.

In her twenties, yet she possessed a maturity completely incongruous with her peers. She could avoid all enthusiasm with just a few words, as if forever immersed in her own world.

It seemed that getting close to her would definitely require fighting a protracted war.

However, the shooting schedule for Mask was set for half a year. Within this half year, there would be plenty of opportunities.

What he didn’t expect was for this opportunity to arrive so quickly.

In the afternoon.

Shao Si put on his costume again, following the teacher and learning the movements one by one.

He had some foundation in dance, but precisely because he previously learned modern dance, he had many small habits at the movement transition points that he hadn’t noticed himself.

“Right here, when you swing your elbow out, it’s too stiff. Don’t tense your wrist; be softer.” Teacher Mei was already over seventy, with gray hair, but when reprimanding people, his imposing manner hadn’t diminished in the slightest. It was said he was even a descendant of the venerable Mr. Mei Lanfang.

“Practice this movement some more. We’ll continue whenever you’ve mastered it.”

The scene Shao Si was currently learning was the highly famous “Farewell My Concubine.”

“I urge the King to drink wine and listen to Yu’s song, to relieve your sorrow while I dance gracefully. The Qin dynasty was tyrannical, tearing the mountains and rivers apart; heroes rose up in arms from all four directions… Since ancient times, the saying does not deceive me: success or failure, rise or fall, happens in an instant.”

It wasn’t just the movements; while reciting and singing, one also had to weigh those intricate, winding emotions. On top of that, the gaze was also exceedingly important.

For just this small segment, Shao Si practiced until he didn’t even know how many times it had been. By the end, a fine layer of sweat had formed on the tip of his nose.

Old Mr. Mei sat to the side, brewing a pot of tea, slowly drinking a few cups, as if he were in a theater listening to a tune.

After about an hour, Old Mr. Mei finally said calmly, “That’s enough.”

Then he took another empty teacup, the color of the cup matching the translucent green of the tea.

The old gentleman lifted the teapot and poured a cup. Instantly, steam billowed out, and the fragrance overflowed.

Old Mr. Mei was wearing an old-fashioned cotton padded jacket, the cuffs loose and slightly drooping. As he spoke, he raised his hand and pushed the cup of tea across the table: “Have a cup of tea, rest for a bit.”

Taking advantage of the time Shao Si spent drinking tea, the old man sat opposite him, his hand covered in deep brown wrinkles tapping casually on the tabletop. He hummed an unnamed tune under his breath, babbling and crooning, as if crumbling into ruin, indulging in the sound and color.

When Shao Si put down his teacup, the hand Old Mr. Mei was using to tap the table paused slightly. He seemed to be looking through Shao Si at someone else, a hint of pity and melancholy in his eyes: “Did I ever tell you, you bear some resemblance to a student I taught in the past?”

Shao Si didn’t pay much attention at first, until Old Mr. Mei sighed and said his name.

—”That child was named Ye Qing.”