Chi Feiran spent the entire night savoring his portrayal of Ji Yunsheng, feeling immensely satisfied watching the final cut of his performance. Any potential embarrassment or nervousness was overshadowed by his exceptional execution.
He relished the ability to appreciate himself, a feeling he had lacked for a long time. His family’s brilliance had often overshadowed him, making him forget that he too could shine. He had once thought he lacked others’ approval, but later realized that external validation was only part of the equation.
Over the years, he had received countless compliments, but he found it hard to believe they were genuine. He was trapped by his past, losing the ability to appreciate himself.
Now, he had finally rediscovered that feeling and was almost indulgent in his enjoyment of it.
Rong Jin was the perfect companion at this moment, understanding Chi Feiran’s emotions deeply as both a past performer and his lover.
They opened a bottle of red wine, cuddling together, quietly savoring the moment until they were slightly tipsy. No words were needed; just being together was enough.
It was a night of heartfelt connection, with Chi Feiran feeling the warmth and sweetness of the moment, wishing it could last forever.
Rong Jin also felt content but soon regretted that they had only engaged emotionally that night. Chi Feiran was suddenly whisked away to the set of “Sweet and Sour,” where the entire crew was ready, only missing the male lead.
Chi Feiran quickly shifted his focus from Ji Yunsheng to retrieving the essence of “Sweet and Sour” protagonist Cheng Chen. Without this, how could he act?
On his first day on set, Chi Feiran felt his performance was subpar. Although he had prepared thoroughly for months, the emotions of Ji Yunsheng resurfaced after watching the premiere of “Dewei Restaurant,” making it hard to transition naturally into his new role.
He was dissatisfied with his first day’s performance, but the director was lenient, attributing it to the first-day jitters. They filmed two transition scenes and wrapped up without needing retakes.
Chi Feiran was unsure whether to feel relieved or worried about the director’s leniency, making him more concerned about his performance.
The atmosphere on set was relaxed, with many young actors, but Chi Feiran couldn’t blend in. His colleagues jokingly complained about the secrecy around his casting, saying they had no time to prepare.
Chi Feiran tried to chat with them but soon felt exhausted. Chen Mengyang and Xiang Fei noticed and suggested he rest.
He hadn’t expected a successful role to bring such a negative impact, feeling like reconnecting with an old friend and neglecting a new one, creating an awkward situation.
Back in bed, he worried about adjusting his mindset to continue filming. The worst-case scenario was the movie stalling due to his performance, but he feared the director’s leniency would lead to an irredeemable film.
He thought of Rong Jin, feeling a bit embarrassed by his desire to ask for help. Covering his head with the blanket, he scolded himself for thinking of Rong Jin over the fresh-faced female lead in the film.
Most of the “Sweet and Sour” cast were industry newcomers chosen for their fresh appeal. The female lead, Lu Jiajia, was a long-haired beauty, her presence making the air feel fresher, as his colleagues joked.
However, Chi Feiran couldn’t help but imagine Rong Jin with long, flowing hair. He laughed at himself, thinking, “Is this what it means to be a steadfast lover?”
Strangely, recalling his scenes with Rong Jin brought clarity, easing his state of mind.
Chi Feiran chuckled at the thought of relying on Rong Jin’s support, realizing it was amusingly effective. He messaged Rong Jin, wanting to admit he missed him, but remembered Rong Jin’s dramatic cross-country visit and restrained himself, sending a casual “What are you doing?” instead.
Rong Jin replied quickly with a voice message, knowing Chi Feiran was alone. He responded, “Missing you.”
It was overly sentimental, but Chi Feiran loved hearing it. He listened repeatedly before replying, “Well, reciprocation—I miss you too.”
Rong Jin then called him directly, and they couldn’t help but smile at each other.
Rong Jin asked about the film set, ensuring no one mistreated Chi Feiran. Hearing his reassurance, Rong Jin felt at ease.
Chi Feiran said everything was fine, his expression mischievous as he adopted traits of Cheng Chen. He drawled, “Too bad…” intending to mention missing his boyfriend, but two fluffy cat heads appeared on Rong Jin’s screen, making him say, “I miss my two cuties~~”
Realizing his mistake, Chi Feiran watched as Rong Jin, with a world-weary tone, said, “This is what it means to be forgotten once you have children.”
Chi Feiran decided it was best to sleep early and abruptly ended the call, feeling oddly satisfied with the day’s events.
As he focused on his role and cut off external distractions, Chi Feiran’s dedication impressed his younger colleagues, who couldn’t imagine life without the internet.
Chi Feiran’s isolation was honed from years of solitary composing. With everything provided on set, he kept in touch only with family and Rong Jin.
Rong Jin, staying home, threw himself into video editing, learning from scratch and creating a fan edit of “Dewei Restaurant.”
The film’s release had sparked a wave of fan content, and Rong Jin refused to be left behind, ensuring his relationship with Chi Feiran stayed relevant.
Chang Haoqing was astonished by Rong Jin’s dedication, deeming it excessive. Rong Jin dismissed him, focusing on creating a compelling edit.
Rong Jin’s unconventional approach involved amplifying the official romantic subplot between Ying Duyuan and Bai Fengxian, using his editing skills to highlight their tragic love story, thus diverting attention from the bromance angle.
Chi Feiran found solace in Rong Jin’s dedication and his own renewed focus on his role, preparing to immerse himself fully in the film.
Rong Jin might lack in other areas, and his technical skills needed improvement when he first started, but one thing he never lacks is creativity. The little stories he came up with were so intriguing that they could easily captivate young girls. While taking breaks from editing, he would even discuss the storyline with Chang Haoqing.
Initially, Chang Haoqing thought Rong Jin was wasting his time. However, after listening to a couple of the mini-stories, he was taken aback. He began to look at Rong Jin with a thoughtful gaze, even wondering why he hadn’t noticed Rong Jin’s potential as a screenwriter before. This was definitely a talent worth developing!
But this thought only lingered in Chang Haoqing’s mind for a moment. He figured that Rong Jin’s good looks were enough to make a living, and trying to take on too much might push Chang Haoqing’s psychological limits. He wanted to live a few more years peacefully!
So, he asked Rong Jin, “You think you can finish all this by yourself? Why don’t you hire a studio to edit according to your instructions?”
Why bother doing it all yourself?
Without lifting his head from his editing, Rong Jin replied, “Who says I haven’t?”
Chang Haoqing was speechless.
He gave Rong Jin a double thumbs-up. This time, he was genuinely impressed. With such dedication and energy, Chang Haoqing couldn’t help but respect him.
“The Taste of Lou” had a star-studded creative team, but it wasn’t the type of blockbuster fit for a summer release. The genre wasn’t purely entertaining, making it somewhat awkward. Even Director Zheng didn’t have particularly high expectations for the box office. The goal wasn’t to break box office records but to make a modest profit and aim for awards.
Director Zheng included fan-service scenes mainly to secure the film’s basic audience. So, when the box office started strong and then stabilized, with both audience and critical reception being positive, she felt assured.
Then, unexpectedly, the box office saw a surge.
Zheng Lin initially didn’t pay much attention, thinking it was just the summer holiday effect. But after looking into it, they discovered a sudden influx of promotional videos for “The Taste of Lou” on Weibo. She thought she understood the reason and called Director Zheng, saying, “Director Zheng, you should have told us about the marketing efforts. It gave us quite a scare!”
Director Zheng replied, “No one informed me either.”
Everyone was confused. Who would do such vigorous marketing for free? Was society really this harmonious now?
Director Zheng even worried that a competitor might be trying to sabotage them. After all, aiming for awards often invited envy and trouble. If someone was plotting against them, it was no joke!
This suspicion created a tense atmosphere among the core team, who were all on high alert, ready for any signs of trouble.
Finally, a certain producer surnamed Rong came forward to clarify, “No, don’t worry, it was me.”
Director Zheng was so relieved she passionately cursed out Rong Jin’s family, repeatedly. She had been quite frightened before. After calming down, she continued, “Are you crazy? Couldn’t you have informed us earlier?”
Rong Jin responded, “…”
Chang Haoqing, overhearing from the side, genuinely felt sorry for Rong Jin’s innocent ancestors.
Ignoring his ancestors’ unwarranted involvement, Rong Jin humbly said, “I didn’t expect that a little effort would have such a good effect.”
This was truly a case of “humblebragging.”
Director Zheng was at a loss for words. The misunderstanding was cleared up, and Rong Jin had boosted the box office, making it hard to criticize him. So, she could only say, “Keep going! If you need money or people, just let me know!”
Rong Jin, being one of the producers of “The Taste of Lou,” was in a position to handle such promotional activities and budget adjustments.
Even Rong Jin didn’t expect that he could later get reimbursed for his efforts, which left him with mixed feelings.
Chang Haoqing observed the whole process, watching as Rong Jin stirred up discussions on Weibo, transforming the romantic storyline between Ying Duyuan and Bai Fengxian into an iconic, tragic love story. This drove many to buy tickets and support the film.
Those who watched the film, moved by its tragic ending, felt compelled to drag others into experiencing it too, creating a growing wave of support.
Originally, the film’s fans promoted it with a refined, literary style, discussing societal woes and character details. But after Rong Jin’s efforts, many started using an enthusiastic tone.
“Go watch ‘The Taste of Lou’!!! You’ll want to recommend it after watching!!! Trust me!!!”
“Can’t believe at my age I’m still crying over this beautiful love story!!! Highly recommend!!!”
“I watched it because of the recommendation above!!! I’m back!!! I strongly urge everyone to watch it too!!!”
The tone was consistently exuberant. Chang Haoqing asked, “What’s with this direction?”
Rong Jin replied, “It shows that the market can be unpredictable. For instance, I didn’t foresee it taking such a lighthearted turn.”
Chang Haoqing patted Rong Jin on the shoulder, conveying the sentiment, “I think you’re a bit of an idiot,” with his gaze.
Rong Jin managed to boost the box office, but he couldn’t completely quash the fan shipping between the senior and junior disciples, proving the collective power of fans wasn’t easily overcome.
Seeing the rising discussions about the characters, fueled by increasing viewership, Rong Jin fell silent.
Chang Haoqing almost laughed out loud and comforted him, saying, “At least you honed your editing skills.”
If only he didn’t chuckle so obviously, his words might have been more convincing.
Rong Jin glanced at him, then quietly logged into an account and started uploading a video.
Still laughing, Chang Haoqing asked, “If you had focused on your own tag earlier, wouldn’t there have been fewer problems?”
Rong Jin simply smiled and replied, “You don’t get it.”
At that moment, Chang Haoqing truly didn’t understand. He thought Rong Jin was just being stubborn and unwilling to admit defeat.
The joy of mocking Rong Jin overshadowed everything else, making it hard to think about anything else. But after mocking him, while alone in his room much later, Chang Haoqing suddenly realized why Rong Jin took that approach.
In this critical period of “The Taste of Lou” being released, drawing attention to himself wasn’t a good idea. If the audience’s focus shifted, it would be hard to reignite their interest in the movie.
“The Taste of Home” is very important. It’s a film that many people have poured their hearts into. It’s also the first movie that his beloved has truly participated in.
Chi Feiran put in a lot of effort, was involved in the entire process, and that’s why we have “The Taste of Home” today, and that’s why we have Ji Yunsheng.
Chang Haoqing, having figured out the key points, turned his mockery of Rong Jin into a sigh and a mocking remark: “Crazy…”
Would it kill you to be honest? Why did he have to figure it out himself?
Chi Feiran, who was offline, learned from his friends that he had a new CP (couple pairing) again, and he was utterly embarrassed.
Xia Wen, one of the parties in this new CP pairing with Chi Feiran, commented, “Nowadays, young girls are really hard to understand.”
Chi Feiran thought he was referring to the random CP pairings and nodded in agreement. Xiang Fei and the others also felt the same.
But Xia Wen was clearly not on the same page as them. He raised his voice in frustration, “Look at me and Feiran. Forget everything else, just based on our looks, am I not more ‘gong’ (dominant)?”
Chi Feiran: “…”
Huh?
Xiang Fei looked at Ding Jie, Ding Jie looked at Ba Shan, and Ba Shan looked into the distance.
Xia Wen exclaimed, “Hey… What do you guys mean! Even though my combat prowess isn’t as good as Brother Chi’s, I look much more reliable and secure than Brother Chi, don’t I?”
Chi Feiran had no idea that he didn’t look reliable or secure enough…
Xiang Fei and the other two stopped exchanging glances. Ba Shan bravely stepped up, patting his strong chest, “I’m the one who looks the most reliable!”
Before Xia Wen could finish his complaints, he went on mumbling to himself, “But those girls say I’m a cheerful and sunny ‘shou’ (submissive)! I don’t accept this!”
Chi Feiran sincerely said, “Actually, there’s nothing wrong with being either ‘gong’ or ‘shou’.”
In these roles, it’s about personal preference; there’s no need to be so particular.
Xia Wen shouted, “This concerns my dignity as a man!”
Chi Feiran felt his dignity was quite intact…
Ding Jie asked, “Aren’t most people concerned about being seen as straight or gay? Why are you worried about ‘gong’ or ‘shou’?”
Xia Wen was at a loss. He then realized that was the bigger issue.
The world fell silent for a moment. Everyone silently patted Xia Wen’s shoulder, probably trying to convey with their actions, “Buddy, you’re really silly,” and Chi Feiran just followed suit.
Then he voiced the question on his mind, looking at his friends, “What’s your opinion on homosexuality?”
None of them suspected any reason behind Chi Feiran’s question; they just answered naturally.
Xia Wen, who grew up in such circles and had seen a lot, said, “Let me be clear, I’m not gay, but I think it’s no big deal. As long as it’s not chaotic, it’s a personal choice. Just like I like eating meat, I can’t stop people from liking vegetables.”
Xiang Fei and the other two had straightforward views, bluntly saying, “None of our business.” Others can like whatever they want, as long as it’s legal, it has nothing to do with them.
Chi Feiran laughed and asked, “What if it’s someone close to you, like a relative or friend? Still none of your business?”
The guys looked at each other, and Ding Jie dramatically put on a frightened expression, “Oh my, don’t peep at my beauty!”
Xiang Fei hugged him tightly, sincerely saying, “I’ll protect you, Jiebao!”
Ding Jie was playing along quite well, but after hearing “Jiebao,” he got so mad he shouted, “Get lost!”
They started fooling around, chasing each other with great enthusiasm, even attracting the attention of the crew.
Chi Feiran joined in. The character he played in “Sweet and Sour” had a more outgoing personality, and he genuinely felt happy because his friends clearly didn’t mind homosexuality. This meant that if he ever came out, it wouldn’t cause a big stir among them, and their friendship wouldn’t change because of it.
This feeling was wonderful.
They messed around so much that they were all drenched in sweat, as if they had been fished out of water, but they were all laughing.
Chi Feiran thought, this must be what youth feels like.
Although “Sweet and Sour” encountered some minor troubles at the beginning, once Chi Feiran grasped the character’s traits, he felt that this was the easiest movie he had ever filmed.
Aside from Rong Jin’s occasional relaxed visits, despite the scorching heat, their costumes were season-appropriate. During shooting, the fans in the classroom blew cool air, and they could have popsicles from the small shop.
Not all scenes were easy, but most of the cast were true friends, creating an unspoken camaraderie.
They grew together on and off the set, striving towards their dreams together.
Chi Feiran thought this kind of movie was wonderful. No scheming, no betrayal, just warmth, light, and sweetness.
They played basketball together, improving their skills, just to catch the eye of the girl they liked passing by the court. If they could hand their jacket to the girl they liked before going on the court, they could make a basket effortlessly. If they could get a bottle of water from her, it was priceless!
Cheng Chen showed off his skills on the court, but unfortunately, Qu Yue never came to the court.
The art studio Qu Yue frequented wasn’t far from the basketball court, so his buddies urged him to go over.
Cheng Chen was actually quite shy, but as a young man, he couldn’t afford to lose face. No matter how shy he was, he couldn’t show it! He, Cheng Chen, wasn’t a coward!
Without realizing it, Cheng Chen walked towards the art studio with a bit of an awkward gait. His friends laughed behind his back but stopped as soon as he turned around, urging him not to be a coward and to go quickly.
The art studio Qu Yue was in was in the old teaching area. The facilities were a bit old, but it was cool and quiet. The downside was that it was a long walk across the campus, so it was usually quite empty, especially on a hot afternoon. Not everyone was as energetic as Cheng Chen and his gang, playing basketball in the heat as if they were immune to heatstroke.
The closer Cheng Chen got to the art studio, the more he felt that running over there might have been a dumb idea. He was sweaty, dressed sloppily, and carrying a basketball.
Cheng Chen glanced at the basketball in his hands and then at the roses in the nearby flower bed, feeling a bit tempted. Would it be so bad to pick one?
He stood there hesitating for a while, not even realizing he was standing in the sun. Finally, Cheng Chen looked around, saw no one was watching, and plucked the best-looking flower, mumbling to himself, “Isn’t the school supposed to be like home? I’m just taking one…”
This foolish boy, having picked the flower, held it carefully to avoid damaging it, but ended up pricking his hand on the thorns, grimacing in pain but not daring to make a sound for fear of alerting Qu Yue in the art studio.
Although he wasn’t dressed his best and looked a bit disheveled, at least he had a flower now.
Unfortunately, he didn’t want to leave his basketball on the side for fear that someone might take it while he wasn’t looking, which would break his heart.
So, Cheng Chen, holding the basketball in one hand and the stolen rose in the other, quietly approached the art studio.
When he got closer, he saw that Qu Yue was leaning against the window!
She must have seen everything! Stealing a flower to give to her was one thing, but being caught in the act was different!
Cheng Chen was so startled that he stumbled, nearly falling flat on his face. He managed to steady himself and realized that Qu Yue was actually asleep, leaning against the window…
The art studio had large windows for good lighting. Qu Yue was peacefully sleeping by the window.
Cheng Chen thought she looked so fair and lovely…
He approached her quietly, even holding his breath to avoid waking this sleeping beauty.
Cheng Chen stood there silently, just watching her, feeling as if time had stopped, with only the cicadas on the branches continuing their relentless chirping.
He wished time could stop at that moment. Cheng Chen felt he could watch Qu Yue forever.
But gradually, he wanted more than just to look at her. Perhaps because of the heat, Qu Yue’s fair cheeks had turned a cute shade of pink. Cheng Chen swallowed, bent down slowly, and leaned in closer.
Cheng Chen, usually mischievous and annoying, had a completely different expression now. With his eyes slightly closed, he kissed the glass lightly, almost reverently, as if afraid of breaking the dream.
The camera captured the handsome boy, sweat still on his forehead, not sure if from nervousness or something else, his eyes tightly shut, unaware that the girl in the studio had opened her eyes and was quietly watching him.
The contrast of light and shadow, the differences in skin tones, and their expressions made this scene look like a painting.
When he opened his eyes, the awakened sleeping beauty closed hers again.
Cheng Chen didn’t notice that Qu Yue’s face had turned even redder. He stepped back abruptly, feeling as if he had done something wrong, his face turning as red as if it could drip blood. He stumbled backward but remembered the flower in his hand, hurriedly placed it on the windowsill, and then ran away like the wind.
Qu Yue opened her eyes, looked at the rose on the windowsill, and blushed even more.
The director called “Cut!” and Chi Feiran and Lu Jiajia came over to watch the playback. Director Niu Hai seemed very satisfied with the scene, patting Chi Feiran’s back vigorously and praising him, “Good job, young man!”
Chi Feiran felt that if he weren’t in good physical shape, he might have gotten internal injuries from all the patting.
Director Niu Hai, also known as Director Niu, was as strong and imposing as his name suggested. However, his directing style was completely at odds with his appearance. Chi Feiran couldn’t believe this man was the director of “Sweet and Sour.” He seemed more likely to be a bodyguard his dad had hired.
But Director Niu had made his name with youth films. Although he mainly worked in Country T rather than in China, his recent film “First Love” had become a hit in both countries, proving his expertise in this genre. Otherwise, RAN wouldn’t have recruited him from abroad.
Despite the risk of being patted into injury, Chi Feiran insisted on watching the playback. Once he confirmed that the scene was really good, he felt relieved.
Having worked with Director Niu for a while, Chi Feiran knew that he was highly professional and wouldn’t compromise on the quality of the film, which was reassuring. Still, it felt a bit unreal that they had nailed the scene so easily.
Because during the shoot, Chi Feiran had unintentionally imagined Lu Jiajia as Rong Jin. Rong Jin, shameless as he was, loved to rehearse this scene, saying he needed to mentally prepare or he might not be able to handle it when the film was released.
So Chi Feiran had rehearsed it with him countless times, kissing again and again.
Perhaps because it was so hot, he had momentarily mistaken Lu Jiajia for Rong Jin!
Director Niu was saying, “The look in your eyes after opening them was perfect, full of warmth and a sense of cherishing.”
Chi Feiran kept a straight face and nodded, wondering if he should tell Rong Jin that Director Niu thought he looked at him with warmth and cherishing.
Thinking this, he couldn’t help but smile, which nearly dazzled Lu Jiajia standing next to him. The girl looked at him expectantly, her eyes shining.
Chi Feiran swallowed and quickly ran away.
Xia Wen and the others laughed at Chi Feiran, teasing him for running away so quickly when a girl showed interest in him. It was so hurtful!
Chi Feiran thought if he didn’t run fast, it would hurt even more. If he confronted it directly and issued a “good person card,” future encounters would be awkward.
Initially, Chi Feiran hadn’t noticed anything until Xia Wen and the others pointed it out. He realized Lu Jiajia had been watching him all along. At first, he thought it might be a misunderstanding, but after two months, it seemed too deep to be one.
Since then, avoiding the female lead had become a part of his schedule, something he hadn’t anticipated before the shoot.
In the final high school scene, Cheng Chen cornered Qu Yue in the art studio, finally mustering the courage to ask if she would be his girlfriend. If she agreed, they would go to the same university.
Qu Yue said, “Cheng Chen, don’t choose your future because of one person. Such affection is too heavy.”
Cheng Chen thought his girl was so cool and vowed to chase her for life.
In reality, Chi Feiran was blocked on the road by the girl who might like him and felt very nervous.
Lu Jiajia looked at him, her eyes full of a light that made Chi Feiran’s heart race, making him want to run away.
But Chi Feiran knew that avoiding the issue wouldn’t solve it. Lu Jiajia, normally very shy, had gone as far as to block him on the road, indicating she needed to talk.
Given the situation, Chi Feiran glanced at the passing crew members and said, “Let’s go somewhere else.”
Lu Jiajia, looking more nervous than him, nodded vigorously.
They moved to the crew’s tea stand, which had a few tables and served as a public resting area. It was empty now, and Chi Feiran had Chen Mengyang help keep an eye out for anyone approaching. They planned to resolve the issue quickly and avoid drawing attention, as it was just a conversation in a public space.
Sitting together, both felt awkward. Chi Feiran handed Lu Jiajia a bottle of mineral water, which she accepted but then fell silent.
