Chapter 49
The atmosphere on Director Yuko’s set today was exceptionally good, filled with the warmth of spring and the peace of the world.
This was because the female lead was visibly happy, and she did not hesitate to let everyone feel her joy.
If Fan An had a faint “work vibe” when she reported to the set yesterday, today, the look in her eyes as she faced the camera was one of adoration.
Director Yuko had a flash of inspiration. She tried to film the scene where the male and female leads fall in love today, and the effect was surprisingly good.
“Excellent,” Director Yuko breathed a sigh of relief. “I was worried you and the male lead wouldn’t have any chemistry. It seems I was overthinking it.”
Ohara Ryusei had been chosen to play the male lead, so his looks were naturally not bad. He was witty and charming, and it was easy for people to like him.
It was only natural for one to be moved by a handsome, actor-level man’s great attentiveness. But just like in yesterday’s scene, the dark-haired girl was unmoved by the young master’s diligent service, treating him as a tool with an attitude that was even more pronounced than the female lead’s in the drama.
Fortunately, today’s filming had been surprisingly smooth. Director Yuko was very pleased.
“Is Miss Fan An really a rookie actress? Your gaze in this scene made me feel ashamed of my own skills.”
Ohara Ryusei praised, “I was pulled into the scene by you before I even realized it.”
Fan An usually read her script during the mid-scene break. Ohara, who was standing in front of her, was blocking the light, so she had to close her script.
“You praise me too much,” the girl said politely. “Mr. Ohara is also very excellent.”
Ohara’s eyes flickered.
As far as he knew, Fan An was a typical, naturally talented actress. As long as the role was suitable for her, her natural performance would surpass everything.
For example, a suspect, a murderer, a mastermind, a killer, and so on, were all within Fan An’s comfort zone.
The female lead in this drama was no exception. All the plots about revenge, retaliation, and an eye for an eye were very simple for her. So easy.
There was only one thing she was not good at.
—Romance scenes.
Despite having the face of an idol drama heroine, with impeccable beauty, none of Fan An’s representative works were related to romance, which showed how short her short board was.
Director Yuko had dared to invite Fan An to play the female lead because the romance in this drama was very special. The one responsible for loving to death and loving even in death was the male lead. The female lead only needed to respond a little.
Director Yuko: It’s also fine if she doesn’t respond at all… at worst, I’ll just change the script later and let the simp get nothing in the end. It’s a female-lead revenge drama anyway. Men are not important.
The director could think this way, but Ohara couldn’t. He knew with his toes the huge difference in highlight between a “devoted, simple, and sweet simp” and the “sole wavering of a cold-hearted avenger.”
The latter would make the audience cry and shout, “I’m dying from this ship! Leopard Cat, you must be happy!”
The former would only make the audience disgusted. “Do you have to do this kind of bundled sale? Who wants to watch a simp? Can you just let my girl be beautiful on her own?”
Such a future was too terrifying. Ohara was unwilling to accept it.
“The thing between a man and a woman is just whether there’s chemistry or not.” Having been in the industry for many years, Ohara knew this well.
Sometimes, just a single glance could create a heart-pounding, ambiguous atmosphere.
It’s hard to force yourself to look at someone you have zero feelings for with deep affection. But if both parties are interested, it’s a different story.
Ohara couldn’t help but savor the scene just now.
The girl had looked up, her beautiful eyes focused on him. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty red. She had gently pressed her lips together, which were moist and glistening.
She had looked both surprised and delighted, a little shy, but also frankly wanting more.
Ohara had almost ignored the “trick-angle kiss” in the script.
He had never found Director Yuko’s “CUT!” so jarring.
Ohara, who was in character, had completely ignored the fact that he was filming on a set, surrounded by a large group of people.
After hearing “cut,” Fan An had instantly broken character. She had casually walked to the side to drink water and read her script. On the other side, Ohara had absent-mindedly taken the water glass from his assistant and chewed on the straw without any taste.
Didn’t they say she wasn’t good at romance scenes?
Didn’t they say she only looked at people as if they were dogs?
She’s clearly a pro!
To be able to charm a person to death so casually. Was this kind of talent innate? It was too terrifying.
No, that’s not right. Ohara cleared his head a little. His judgment of people was still quite sharp. The girl was probably really not good at romance scenes.
Not good at it, yet she had performed so well. There could only be one situation.
“Was she channeling something?” Ohara said to himself. “Not as the female lead, but her own feelings…”
It must be that! He was definitely not wrong!
Ohara’s eyes lit up. Developing feelings from acting!
He feigned composure and walked over to Fan An, who was reading her script with her head down, and praised her acting.
Hearing Ohara’s voice, the girl closed her script and praised him as well.
The corners of Ohara’s mouth curled up. He glanced at the crowded set and suppressed his excitement.
The man who had been blocking her light had finally left. Fan An didn’t understand why he had come over just for a commercial exchange of compliments, delaying her script reading.
She followed Director Yuko to review the footage. The self in the shot was a little unfamiliar even to Fan An.
“Last night… did I really have that kind of expression?”
It was just a kiss on the cheek. Why did my earlobes turn red?
The next second, her earlobe was also kissed. The soft flesh of her earlobe, such a small area, was burning hot as if it were on fire.
“Can’t take it anymore?” the blond young man had asked in a low voice. “That’s it for today?”
Who was he looking down on? An’an was indignant.
“This side too,” she had said, her fingertip tapping her un-kissed left cheek and left earlobe.
It was like a game. Wherever An’an’s fingertip landed, his kiss would follow.
…
“Because I have to film today, it can only be considered a light taste.”
The girl flipped the script on her lap with a rustle. “I didn’t expect it to be a great help during today’s filming.”
The male and female leads’ first kiss. Just thinking about this scene made Fan An’s scalp tingle.
The only romance scene she was good at was a lovers’ suicide.
Whether it was smothering the male lead with a wet cloth, drowning him in water, or hanging him from a tree, it was all perfectly fine. A guaranteed one-take. If the screenwriter lacked inspiration, Fan An would enthusiastically recommend the famous Yokohama suicide scholar, Master Dazai Osamu, to come and give guidance.
The kiss was a trick angle. That wasn’t a problem. But Director Yuko wanted Fan An to “show her true feelings,” which was a difficult task for her.
Fan An only knew how to release her killing intent.
She had quickly searched online for some acting tips. A kind netizen had told her that the most important thing for an actor is a sense of belief.
If you have to cry, you have to cry as if your own father had just died. Even if you had just won five million, you have to cry like a storm. You can do it!
Fan An was filled with solemn respect and no longer mentioned backing down.
She had glanced at her co-star, Ohara, silently looked away, and then forced herself to look back.
Show her true feelings… in short, as long as she shows that she likes him and loves him, it’s fine. It’s not specified who she has to be facing, right?
…
“It was a very smooth one-take,” An’an sent a message to her boyfriend, proud of her flexible and clever mind. “I’m a genius.”
Work at Café Poirot wasn’t busy. Amuro replied quickly. “Is this considered eating a substitute, An’an?”
His tone was a little teasing, and also a little jealous.
“It’s more like drawing a cake to satisfy my hunger,” An’an typed with a straight face. “I have to film more romance scenes later, but I have no inspiration. What should I do?”
The other party is typing…
The image finished loading. A blond young man in a waiter’s uniform was taking a mirror selfie, a apron with a cat pattern tied around his slender waist.
[I rejected the manager’s request for a one-day maid café, and as a price, I had to wear a cat-patterned apron… Does it suit me?]
To think that thirty-something-degree fingers could type such fiery words. An’an suddenly didn’t want to go to work anymore.
The bad man who had sent the photo to bait her unhurriedly sent a message. “Inspiration. Do you have it now?”
“Good luck with work (smile).”
An’an silently turned off her phone. She walked over to Director Yuko and said sternly, “Why are we still on break? Didn’t you say we had to rush the schedule?”
Director Yuko, a well-known workaholic in the industry who had only ever rushed others and had never been rushed herself, was speechless. “???”
Why has the female lead suddenly rebelled?
“We have to film a romance scene later,” Director Yuko reminded her cautiously. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry,” the dark-haired girl said with a calm expression. “I’m so charmed right now I can’t speak.”
The Director: Huh?
…
An’an, who had finished filming with astonishing efficiency and astonishing acting, was just like yesterday. The moment it was announced that they were done, she disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Ohara, who had been immersed in the romance scene and had only just snapped out of it, found that he had lost his target again.
He: “…”
Fan An didn’t care what her co-star was thinking. She ran straight to Café Poirot.
“Can I take the cat apron home?” the girl asked, her arms wrapped around Amuro’s waist, her eyes pleading. “I’m willing to pay for it.”
“Miss, this is a limited-time offer for today,” the blond butler shook his head regretfully.
His expression was non-negotiable, but just as An’an was about to let go, he pulled her back.
The café was already closed. The sign on the door was flipped to “CLOSED.” There were only the two of them and the aroma of coffee beans in the shop.
“What would the miss like to order?” the butler asked dutifully.
An’an said without thinking, “You.”
Her forehead was tapped. Amuro almost had the words “I’m doing a proper job” written in his eyes.
Then you shouldn’t be walking around in front of her in a cat apron. The girl felt wronged. It was too mean to be so delicious but not let her eat. A big bad man.
“I’ve also experienced the feeling of quenching my thirst by looking at plums,” An’an said, twirling her spaghetti with a fork and sending it into her mouth, while glancing at her boyfriend.
(T/N: An idiom for consoling oneself with an illusion.)
Amuro was calm under his girlfriend’s accusing gaze. He could have taken off the apron long ago, but he didn’t. He wore it openly.
The apron strings were like a ball of yarn in front of a cat. An’an’s fingertips twitched, secretly approaching the target.
The blond Public Security officer took in all of the suspect’s small movements. He smiled, waiting for the girl to walk right into his trap.
The phone that An’an had casually placed on the table lit up.
Amuro glanced at it.
[Today’s filming went so smoothly. I feel like our chemistry has grown. Please take care of me in the future as well. —Ohara Ryusei]
[I was thinking, with our relationship, isn’t it too distant to still call each other by our surnames? Can I call you An’an in the future? Such a cute name. —Ohara Ryusei]
The phone screen lit up and then went dark. The corners of Amuro’s lips flattened.
He and An’an were not the kind of couple who checked each other’s phones, mainly because an undercover Public Security officer’s phone couldn’t be seen by anyone. So Amuro wouldn’t interfere with his girlfriend’s privacy.
He just had very good eyesight and read very fast. It was just a casual glance.
An’an hadn’t seen the message yet. She was busy picking out the shrimp from her pasta and eating them. But the unread message was there. She would see it sooner or later.
…How would she reply?
The words were filled with a subtle ambiguity and suggestion, yet on the surface, they didn’t seem to have much meaning, and the request was not excessive.
Like a thin wooden splinter stuck in the flesh. Not obvious, but its presence was exceptionally annoying.
What if he turned it into a spam message?
It should be easy to hack into An’an’s phone. Technically, there was no problem. In that case, he might as well just block and delete Ohara in one go.
No, no. Amuro quickly rejected his own wild thoughts. That would be going too far, very disrespectful. Besides, Ohara had to work with An’an until the end of filming. They would see each other every day.
A relationship where they saw each other every day would sooner or later develop to the point of calling each other by their first names… If he showed that he minded, wouldn’t he seem very petty?
The dark-haired girl finished picking out the shrimp from her pasta and ate them. She twirled the remaining pasta and, using the same trick, ate it while looking at her boyfriend’s face.
“Hm?” Following Amuro’s gaze, An’an saw the phone next to her. “Is there a new message?”
She freed a hand to unlock it. The landscape photo on the lock screen switched to the desktop wallpaper.
The cat waiter and Amuro came face to face.
He: …Eh?
The photo she just received today. She’s already using it as her wallpaper?
The girl had indeed seen the message. She clearly hadn’t read into Ohara’s meaning. She casually typed, “Okay.”
Before she could hit send, An’an’s hand was suddenly held down, enveloped in the man’s palm.
“What’s wrong?” An’an was taken aback.
The blond young man’s handsome face showed a hint of conflict. His gaze was fixed on the phone’s wallpaper.
The blatant favoritism from his lover made the difficult-to-say words seem not so bad after all.
“I mind a little,” Amuro said frankly. “Can An’an reply to him with ‘no’?”