Lady By The Pillow - Chapter 37

Chapter 37: Mommy (Part 3)

“‘Shi’ of time, and ‘Qing’ of ‘beauty.'”

The RV was parked in an empty lot outside the performance area, without a proper parking spot, simply pulled over by a tree.

The door was shut, and inside, Wei Jiuqi’s ear was being vigorously pulled. Her entire body was lifted a few centimeters, making her stand on her toes as she leaned towards Wei Shu.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch…”

The great Best Actress was having her ear pulled by her own mother, and she didn’t even dare to talk back. How pathetic was that?

Having found the root of the problem, Wei Shu completely lost it. She pulled Wei Jiuqi to the sofa and made her sit down. She let go of her ear and poked her forcefully on the shoulder several times (she wanted to poke her head, but was afraid of messing up her makeup).

“You are just so outrageous! You don’t know your own limits, and you’re not even afraid of how unpredictable people can be!” Wei Shu said in Cantonese.

Wei Jiuqi rubbed her red ear and grumbled, “What’s wrong with you? That hurts so much.”

Wei Shu looked at her, and she did seem much more mature than when she first left home, but it was far from enough to survive in this murky world.

After a moment of hesitation, she decided to tell her about Wen Yi’s voice recording. Otherwise, with her impulsive nature, she would eventually fall into someone else’s trap.

“Luckily, the newspaper was afraid of causing trouble and contacted me early to deal with it. Otherwise, they would have exposed all your bad deeds already, do you know that?” Wei Shu said in Cantonese.

Wei Jiuqi was stunned. No wonder Wen Yi looked like she was ready to fight her to the end that day, only to turn her attention to Tang Bin the next day. It turned out that what truly scared Wen Yi wasn’t Wei Jiuqi standing up for Shi Qing, but Wei Shu standing up for Wei Jiuqi.

Instantly, her rebellious demeanor disappeared. She rubbed her red ear and flashed an ingratiating smile at Wei Shu.

A person’s life in this world is all about knowing which way the wind blows.

“Mommy, I didn’t know you worried about me so much!” she said, now in Mandarin.

Her domineering eyes instantly turned into those of a small animal, her eyelashes fluttering. She grabbed Wei Shu’s forearm with both hands, using every possible means of coquetry and flattery.

Wei Jiuqi was an expert at being adorable. Despite her 173cm height, she could hold a long spear in one hand and a horse’s reins in the other during action scenes. When the behind-the-scenes footage was released, the comment section would be filled with “my sister is so cool” and “I’m on my knees.” But when she was genuinely being cute, her eyes would roll around, looking at Wei Shu. Her hands would pull on her mother’s arm like a cat’s paws or tug at the corner of her clothes, looking so pitiful and wronged that it was a crime.

Wei Shu was immediately won over. She stared at her for a long, long time, letting out a deep sigh. “Forget it.”

What was there to be angry about with a child?

“If you used the same tricks on her, you would have gotten what you wanted a long time ago.” Wei Shu said in Cantonese, referring to Shi Qing.

“I can’t. I can only charm you because I know you love me, but she doesn’t love me,” Wei Jiuqi said in Cantonese, her confidence gone. The willow branch of her demeanor drooped, and she mumbled.

“That kind of deep, passionate love isn’t something you’re born with like family love.”

A person chooses who they love. The sweetness or bitterness, the love or hate, the decision to give up or persevere, are all personal choices.

Wei Jiuqi was visibly dejected. Wei Shu’s eyelid twitched. She said in Cantonese, “If she doesn’t love you, just find someone else.”

Wei Jiuqi tried to force a smile, but she found it incredibly difficult. Only the corners of her mouth twitched, and every muscle in her face seemed to be out of place, making her look strange.

“It’s not that easy,” she said in Cantonese.

Wei Shu’s heart ached. She called out, “Puppy.”

Wei Jiuqi waved her hand and subconsciously switched to Mandarin. “Oh, whatever. Things will work out in the end. It’s not great now, but it’s not bad either. We’re in the same crew, and I get to see her every day, so I’m happy.”

She would speak Mandarin whenever she was talking about something serious. Even though her expression was light and carefree, her feelings for Shi Qing had already seeped into her bones.

In her early twenties, love is at its most intense, so intense that it can outweigh her own life.

Wei Shu had experienced that feeling, and because of that, she couldn’t bear to take away Wei Jiuqi’s right to pursue love.

The most beautiful part of love isn’t getting it; it’s the exploration.

Exploring every shining spot on your loved one, collecting those stars, and putting them in a beautiful box. When the box can no longer hold them, you simply open the lid completely, and the starlight instantly fills the entire room. Then you count them one by one, seeing which one lit up a certain place, and which one lit up another. This one might be a little flawed, that one has a little imperfection, this one is too sharp, and that one cut her hand. But it doesn’t matter, every single one of them shines. And the bl00d that drops from the cuts will eventually turn into rubies.

Happiness, pain, excitement, exhilaration… A collection of details that come together to form love.

“That’s true.”

Wei Shu nodded to her. She didn’t judge her views on love or her methods of pursuing it. She chose to show her respect in a calm and gentle way.

“It’s pretty good that you can film together.”

She understood her daughter. She knew what was important and what wasn’t. So there was no need to emphasize, “You can’t abandon your career,” or to warn, “Don’t mess up your career.” Her child was grown up; she should let her make her own choices.

She was just a little curious. What kind of person could captivate her arrogant daughter like this?

She stood up, pulling at the hem of her long skirt. “Let’s go. Let’s go watch her film.” Wei Shu said in Cantonese.

Wei Jiuqi looked troubled. “Why are you going? Don’t interrupt their filming!”

Wei Shu didn’t like what she said. “What’s wrong? Am I a monster?” Wei Shu said in Cantonese.

Wei Jiuqi said, “The way you stare at people, they’ll think you’re here to cause trouble.” Wei Jiuqi said in Cantonese.

Wei Shu scoffed. “Why would I stare at people? I don’t even like her. Who would be able to tell? You’re the one. Aren’t you afraid of being seen through?” Wei Shu said in Cantonese.

Wei Jiuqi explained, “The script requires me to like her, so no one will know if I’m just acting for real.” Wei Jiuqi said in Cantonese.

Wei Shu nodded. “Then that’s fine.” Wei Shu said in Cantonese.

She started to walk toward the door. Wei Jiuqi quickly grabbed her.

“Then promise me you won’t stare at her all the time and won’t ask her any weird questions.” Wei Jiuqi said in Cantonese.

Wei Shu gave her a look like she was watching a gorilla dance.

“Madam, not everyone is as interested in her as you are. She’s not that charming, okay?” Wei Shu said in Cantonese.

Wei Jiuqi swore that if anyone other than Wei Shu had said that, she would have pierced them with a single look.

A short while later, the interior set was ready, and all the actors were in position.

This scene was mainly a face-off between Wei Jiuqi and Shi Qing. It was the part in the middle of the story where Princess Ji Lan discovers that the Empress, Jiang Ke, has sharp claws and a vast network. She rushes to the Empress’s palace to confront her and is ultimately slapped by her.

Shi Qing and Wei Jiuqi had both memorized their lines beforehand, and the rehearsal went very smoothly. After Director Fan Erhua confirmed the final positions of the main characters on the monitor, the clapboard sounded, and the show began.

Shi Qing, as Jiang Ke, was sitting down. The round table in front of her was filled with dishes. When Wei Jiuqi, as Ji Lan, rushed in, a maid was still serving her.

“Your Majesty, I have something to ask you.”

Wei Jiuqi was wearing a red and white palace robe, not her formal attire, but the one she would normally wear at the princess’s mansion.

In contrast, Shi Qing’s Empress attire was particularly grand. The reason was simple—she had just returned from a morning court session.

In the script, a morning court session over the issue of establishing an heir had lasted until noon, so the table was already set for her when she returned.

Shi Qing looked up at Wei Jiuqi and pointed to the nanmu chair across from her.

“Perfect. Sit down. Dine with me.”

Wei Jiuqi stood still. “I’m not hungry, Your Majesty.”

Shi Qing paused, briefly lowering her eyes. The movement was quick, and she immediately looked up again, her gaze returning to that of a mother of the country. She then picked up a wine pot.

“Then have a drink.”

This was a brilliant bit of acting.

The trend in historical dramas is to be increasingly dramatic. Even in the deep palace, where all eyes are on you, an actor would show they’ve “had an idea” by theatrically rolling their eyes, looking left and right, as if they were a thinking robot. After a full five seconds, they would finally say their next line.

If these people were really living in ancient times, they would have been killed off in the first episode.

Shi Qing didn’t do that.

With just a quick lowering of her gaze, she had already thought of a solution. It seemed unintentional, but her mind had already worked out her plan. This was the true demeanor of a powerful person who had climbed to the Empress’s position by cunning and plotting in the palace.

From outside, Wei Shu, who was watching the entire scene, nodded slightly. The acting was decent, but it was just average and not memorable. She wondered what Puppy liked about her.

As the plot progressed, the conversation between the two became more and more intense. When they got to the part where Princess Ji Lan says, “I ask to go to the imperial tombs and mourn for my father for three years,” wanting to escape Jiang Ke’s control through filial piety, Jiang Ke angrily slaps her.

The script only had one line for this: Jiang Ke, enraged, slaps Ji Lan.

“Let me talk to you about this part,” Director Fan Erhua’s voice came from the loudspeaker.

Shi Qing raised her hand, signaling for her to wait. She then took the walkie-talkie from a stagehand and said to Fan Erhua, “Director Fan, I have an idea for this part. I want to try it first. Is that okay?”

Fan Erhua asked, “Did you two rehearse this?”

Shi Qing glanced at Wei Jiuqi. “Not yet.”

Wei Jiuqi, however, happily leaned in. “It’s fine. Let’s do it. In the script, Ji Lan gets slapped out of nowhere. I don’t know anything either. It’s perfect.”

Shi Qing and Wei Jiuqi were both very creative actors. Sometimes they would create unexpected chemistry, which Fan Erhua greatly appreciated and encouraged the entire cast to learn from them. Every time Shi Qing had a new idea, she would agree and let her try it her way.

“Alright, let’s do one take.”

The slate clapper was held in front of the camera.

“Scene 108, take 13, shot 1, Action!”

Wei Jiuqi knelt by Shi Qing, respectfully bowed her head, and didn’t rise. With her forehead touching the ground, she said, “This servant asks to go to the imperial tombs to mourn for my father for three years. Please grant me permission, Your Majesty!”

After that line, it was Shi Qing’s turn to act angry.

But she didn’t. She only frowned quickly before picking up a piece of crystal perch with her chopsticks. She slowly put it in her mouth, swallowed it, and then took a sip of soup.

Wei Jiuqi waited for several seconds but received no response. Did Shi Qing forget her lines? No, she wasn’t the type to mess up at a crucial moment.

So, staying in character as Princess Ji Lan, she repeated, “Please grant me permission, Your Majesty.”

Shi Qing still ignored her and ate another piece of sticky rice cake, then placed her chopsticks on the jade rest.

Wei Jiuqi was a little confused. She slowly lifted her head and upper body, tentatively asking, “Your Majesty?”

Suddenly, everything was a blur. A slap landed, a loud smack. Her face was knocked to the side. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked back, only to find that Shi Qing still wasn’t looking at her. If it weren’t for the stinging pain on her cheek, she wouldn’t have known Shi Qing had hit her. It was as if the slap was merely a punishment for interrupting her meal. Her attention was always on the feast on the table.

This was the demeanor of a person in power toward a disobedient subordinate.

There was no yelling or screaming, no flushed face or bulging neck, because these subordinates weren’t worth the emotional effort. Even if they were angry, they wouldn’t show it on their faces.

“Cut! That was great. That’s a wrap for this scene!”

Director Fan Erhua’s voice came from the loudspeaker. Wei Jiuqi was still on her knees, but Shi Qing had already stood up and was helping her up, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at her slapped cheek.

“How are you? Does it hurt a lot?” Shi Qing, still immersed in her role, hadn’t held back her strength. Even with the foundation, the red mark had already appeared.

Wei Jiuqi instantly felt wronged and exaggerated. “It hurts. It hurts so much.”

With so many people watching, Shi Qing would have to show concern whether she wanted to or not. And if she played it up and acted pitiful, Shi Qing might even get her an ice pack.

From the sidelines, Wei Shu, who had witnessed the entire scene, her eyes shifted slightly, as if she had discovered a colorful fish in the deep sea. She turned around and made a phone call.

“Xiao Yu, help me get the information of an actress named Shi Qing. ‘Shi’ of time, and ‘Qing’ of ‘beauty.'”