FLME Ch4: Cool Guy

Although Yu Wen claimed to have lousy acting skills, his two-hour crash course in crying scenes was quite effective. Combined with his looks, the result was pretty good, and Director Gao’s furrowed brow finally relaxed.

In front of the monitor, Yu Wen watched from the first second to the last, feeling he didn’t drag everyone down, and let out a sigh of relief.

Director Gao, true to his sharp-tongued nature, dragged the progress bar back and sneered, “What kind of acting is this? Your lines are mumbled, you don’t even open your mouth! With your skills, you dream of being a big star? In your next life maybe!”

The last time Yu Wen was here, he only felt familiar. Later, he overheard crew members discussing, and the assistant director kept mentioning Yu Wen, so it was hard to forget.

Not only did he remember this good-looking production assistant, but he also heard from the makeup team about his grand ambitions.

Yu Wen felt a weight lift off his shoulders and his expression relaxed, not taking the mockery to heart at all.

“Not necessarily, don’t speak too soon—”

Director Gao: “?”

Yu Wen: “What if I can’t become one even in my next life?”

Director Gao: “…”

The cameramen nearby struggled to hold back their laughter.

Yu Wen said it casually, but he actually thought he had some talent. The emotions he struggled to evoke in the bathroom came naturally in front of the camera. After Director Gao called cut, he even felt he could have done more.

Maybe he was born for this job, Yu Wen shamelessly thought.

The phone rang, and Director Gao glanced at it, his expression changing instantly. He seemed to hesitate whether to answer or not. Yu Wen inadvertently glanced over and saw the name:

Xie Jiamao.

Yu Wen: “…”

In an instant, the recent rumors in the crew, the boss’s “old friend,” the new company that needed backing… all connected in Yu Wen’s mind, forming a coherent and logical picture.

Two minutes later, Yu Wen naturally looked away, pretending not to hear Director Gao’s suppressed and irritated voice.

What did the boss’s wrongdoings have to do with the employees?

“I’m not having dinner… No nonsense, you didn’t cook yourself, every time it’s Xiao Xie who cooks and you just serve it… Serving dishes counts as cooking? If I get nominated for the Magnolia Award, does that mean I’ve dominated the TV industry?”

“You dare mention the PPT! You exaggerated yourself like that, making Xiao Xie write such conscienceless stuff… Without Xiao Xie, your lousy company would’ve fallen apart long ago!”

“Xie Jiamao, playing around is one thing, but signing a contract with the company is no small matter. It’s impossible for me to sign just because you say so. Everyone knows you like to meddle. What if this is another of your three-minute fads… Anyway, if you want me to sign, you have to show some results first…”

The call ended, and Director Gao noticed Yu Wen hadn’t left yet, resting his chin on his hand and listening to him rant.

“Enjoying the show?”

Director Gao’s face was dark, his brows furrowed, a sign of impending anger.

Yu Wen said, “You make it sound like I eavesdropped on purpose.”

Yu Wen added, “You put it on speaker.”

Director Gao licked his back teeth, glaring at Yu Wen with his lantern-like sharp eyes, trying to intimidate him. Yu Wen, unafraid, blinked his own big, round cat-like eyes.

Director Gao thought: Provoking me!

Director Gao bit his cheek, then laughed angrily.

This brat had no idea of his limits, always ready with a comeback, but surprisingly likable.

Gao Kaiyu was impatient by nature, but it didn’t mean he liked people being overly deferential. Yu Wen had a knack for being just the right amount of cheeky, making their interactions comfortably balanced.

Whether by accident or by shrewdness—if it was the latter—he was very perceptive and had high emotional intelligence.

Maybe he really was born for this.

—

After returning from the “Fenghua” crew, Yu Wen temporarily had no work and enjoyed being a happy, idle fish at home, living on a base salary.

But he still attended acting and vocal lessons, since he had paid for them. When Xie Jiamao heard he wanted to excel in both acting and singing, he immediately wanted to hire a dance teacher for him, but Yu Wen refused—having had a few years of ballet training, it was hard to change his muscle memory, so it was more cost-effective to focus on acting and vocals.

Unless necessary, he didn’t even want to learn street dance, as changing styles was a painful process.

Xie Jiamao felt it was a pity but had to agree, though he suggested getting a teacher to give him some introductory lessons.

Yu Wen readily agreed.

That afternoon, he rode his beloved electric scooter to the company. StarLight Media, though newly established, had all the necessary facilities. The newly renovated 10th floor had a dance studio, and when Yu Wen arrived, the door was slightly ajar, with lively music coming from inside.

The dance studio’s large floor-to-ceiling windows faced the building opposite, without any privacy film, emphasizing transparency. The people warming up inside had to draw the thick black curtains on both sides to block out the bright daylight, leaving the studio lit by the dim yellow lights above, creating a hazy, ambiguous atmosphere.

Yu Wen pushed the door open a bit more and, in the dim light, saw the person’s superior side profile and the fleeting glow around their ears.

Xie Jiamao had said that today’s teacher, who came to give him a private lesson, was surnamed Xie.

At this moment, Yu Wen should politely address the person as “Teacher Xie,” but instead, he said, “It’s you? Cool guy.”

Cool guy turned his head, his gaze resting on Yu Wen’s face for two seconds, his dark eyelashes thoughtfully lowered. After a moment, he said, “It’s you.”

The cool guy walked over, casually lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe away sweat, revealing his six-pack abs and slender waist, making Yu Wen envious—he had lied to the assistant director; his real dream since childhood wasn’t to become a big star, but to be a tall, lean, muscular cool guy.

For various reasons, this dream remained just a dream with no signs of coming true.

“Yu Wen?” the cool guy inquired.

Yu Wen nodded, “So you’re the dance teacher Mr. Xie hired for me. What a coincidence.”

“…No.” The cool guy bent down to pick up a water bottle, tilted his head back to take a drink, his Adam’s apple moving sensuously.

“Ah?”

The cool guy lowered his eyelashes, pursed his lips for a moment, and said, “I only danced for a year, I’m not a professional dancer, and certainly not a teacher.”

Yu Wen showered him with compliments, “You’re so humble. I know, you must be the company’s specially appointed choreographer, right…”

The cool guy continued to shake his head, too lazy to answer more questions. After some more small talk, Yu Wen finally learned his name—Xie Heyu, derived from the phrase “Cranes speak atop the pines, flowers brighten in the clouds,” which sounded very cultured.

Xie Jiamao had said today’s class was just to get a feel for the atmosphere. Yu Wen was to sit and watch, which he gladly did, finding a small corner while Xie Heyu put on music to find his rhythm. Meanwhile, Yu Wen pulled out half a watermelon from his big backpack.

He even brought two spoons, in case the dance teacher wanted some watermelon but lacked a utensil.

The teacher declined his enthusiastic offer.

Xie Heyu was practicing moves in front of a video. He seemed rusty, his movements casual, occasionally missing details, but Yu Wen could see his underlying skills and could tell he hadn’t danced for at least two years.

However, some people’s talent is ingrained in their bones, their muscle memory deeper than their hippocampus. In no time, Xie Heyu delivered a dance with an 80% completion rate.

Shifts, hip twists, timing, waves… It’s often said that tall, slender people find it hard to master jazz dance, but the truth is, long limbs make dancing look good. It’s a very pleasing visual experience.

After finishing the dance, Xie Heyu stopped to drink water, and Yu Wen clapped enthusiastically like a seal. Though he refrained from more compliments, his eyes were wide and bright, filled with almost overflowing words of praise.

Xie Heyu glanced at him, lowered his cup, raised it again, then finally turned his back on Yu Wen.

Yu Wen: “?”

After two hours of dancing, when Yu Wen had finished his watermelon, Xie Heyu turned off the music and sat down against the mirror to rest.

The two were separated by a short distance, the air filled with a humid heat. Xie Heyu’s forehead was damp with sweat, his whole body looking as if he had just been pulled out of water, even his eyelashes gleaming with moisture.

Yu Wen, holding the watermelon rind, chatted with him, asking when he had learned jazz.

“After high school.” Xie Heyu’s head was lowered, his black hair covering his ear bones, with a different, understated black ear stud than last time.

“My family wanted to get someone into the entertainment industry, pushed me to participate in a talent show. I practiced singing and dancing for a while but didn’t like it, so I stopped.”

Isn’t this a humblebrag? Yu Wen thought sourly.

He had practiced ballet for a few years under his mother’s influence, but he was the type without talent. His mother had held his hand and earnestly said, “There are many roads to success, no need to stick to a single path. It’s important to have a certain material foundation in life, don’t you think?”

Implying that if he continued with ballet, he’d starve eventually.

Yu Wen had to regrettably give up the idea of inheriting his mother’s career. He knew he lacked a certain spark when it came to dance, so he never had high hopes for singing and dancing centered around dance.

Xie Heyi is a handsome guy who is quiet and introverted. If not necessary, his responses are as concise as “hmm,” “oh,” and “okay.”

Yu Wen guessed he probably didn’t like others being too warm towards him, but it was always awkward to stay silent when the two of them were together. Since they weren’t familiar with each other, the silence would only make things more uncomfortable.

Yu Wen tried to make small talk.

“Mr. Xie, what do you do?”

“…Studying.”

“Wow, Mr. Xie, you look so young.”

After a while.

Yu Wen: “Mr. Xie, are you in high school or college?”

“…”

“It should be college.” Yu Wen inferred the answer from Xie Heyi’s expression and nodded to himself.

He glanced at Xie Heyi and suddenly said, “Mr. Xie, your earrings look really nice.”

Unlike the previous dull small talk, this remark carried a bit of sincere admiration.

Xie Heyi turned his head and glanced at him.

Two minutes later, the pure black ear cuff on Xie Heyi’s earlobe was on Yu Wen’s ear. The latter looked in the mirror, a little dumbfounded, “Isn’t it an earring…”

“Today I’m wearing an ear cuff.” Xie Heyi adjusted the position for him and said softly, “It suits you.”

“Really?” Yu Wen examined himself in the mirror carefully. After a moment of stunned silence, he felt a delayed sense of beauty wash over him. He admired himself like a peacock displaying its feathers, then turned to ask Xie Heyi, “I feel like I have a bit of American street style vibe, what do you think?”

Under his strange metaphor, Xie Heyi was silent for two seconds before nodding resignedly, “Hmm, you do.”

Yu Wen was pleased.

He suddenly felt Xie Heyi was very kind and agreeable, and enthusiastically exchanged contact information, asking for all the ear cuffs in Mr. Xie’s shopping record. Finally, he solemnly said, “In the future, I’ll be relying on you for ear cuffs.”

Xie Heyi, now a sophomore, had classes in the afternoon and couldn’t stay long. After packing up, they bid each other a brief farewell.

As Xie Heyi picked up his backpack and was about to leave, he inexplicably paused, holding the doorknob with one hand and looking back at Yu Wen.

“Have we met before?” he asked.