Provoking Fire [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 39

Chu Xiyue moved so quickly that Fang Cunle and Cheng Ya didn’t even notice what she was doing before the two had already pulled apart.

Seeing that they had finished eating, Cheng Ya took out the yogurt she had in her pocket and handed one to each of them.

“Try this first. Director Yang hasn’t scheduled anything yet. He said Sister Su Yan should rest for a couple of days to let her wrist heal a bit before resuming filming. They’re shooting other actors’ scenes now, so he’s probably planning to wrap everything up in the next two days.”

“It’s kind of Director Yang to give the leads a break,” Fang Cunle added with a smile. “Oh, right! You guys came too early last night and probably didn’t notice, but when we went back to pack up, we saw so many fireflies! I didn’t expect to see them here in autumn. It was my first time seeing them—they were so beautiful!”

At this, Su Yan’s eyes flickered, and she showed a rare hint of curiosity.

“Fireflies?”

The southwestern border region enjoys a spring-like climate year-round, with humid air that makes it a breeding ground for insects and small animals. Most girls around the world have little interest in bugs, and Su Yan, despite her somewhat unconventional demeanor, was no exception.

When it comes to fireflies, most people immediately think of romance, their minds conjuring images of skies filled with twinkling lights, evoking a sense of envy. Noticing Su Yan’s rare spark of interest, Fang Cunle elaborated, primarily describing how they had spotted the fireflies. It was already autumn, and while fireflies typically thrive in summer nights, their numbers gradually dwindled as autumn approached. Only the region’s mild climate allowed them to persist.

“The villager who guided us said they’re abundant in summer,” Fang Cunle shrugged. Seeing Su Yan’s hint of disappointment, she reassured her, “Teacher Su, we’re staying here for a few more days. If I see any fireflies, I’ll let you know, okay?”

Su Yan snapped out of her reverie and smiled, “Alright.”

The yogurt was chilled, packaged in two small bottles with a thin layer of condensation clinging to the plastic. Holding them in their hands, they felt refreshingly cool. Chu Xiyue pierced the lid with a straw and savored the tangy-sweet lime flavor, which cut through the richness of the meal. She noticed Su Yan using her other hand to open her yogurt as well, sipping it slowly, just like her.

For some reason, Chu Xiyue didn’t want anyone to see her taking care of Su Yan, not even the two assistants who were quite familiar with them. They were all considered “outsiders.”

The circle of intimacy was incredibly narrow, almost a secret between her and Su Yan. At least on the surface, Su Yan remained her usual aloof self, treating Chu Xiyue with only slightly more familiarity than anyone else.

But in private, Chu Xiyue craved more of Su Yan’s “special treatment.”

This special treatment didn’t have to be intense. Perhaps it was just a longer conversation at night, an extra spoonful of sauce at lunch, or being the first to catch the woman’s faint, delicate fragrance when they sat together during breaks—small gestures like these.

Su Yan’s wrist had healed for about three days, which was the maximum time Director Yang could afford to give her off. After all, without the lead actress working, many scenes couldn’t be filmed at all. Renting the set, paying extras, transportation, meals, and staff wages all cost money. A production shutdown was like burning through the entire budget. Unless there was a major emergency, they would avoid it at all costs.

Three days later, Su Yan felt well enough to start filming scenes that didn’t involve action sequences. Over the past few days, the crew had moved to different locations for filming, requiring overnight stays. Director Yang arranged for Su Yan and Chu Xiyue to share a room.

While the official reason was for Chu Xiyue to care for Su Yan, it was more about giving the two women a chance to get to know each other better. In that regard, it had been quite successful.

Since that day, Chu Xiyue felt Su Yan had become more open with her. Previously, Su Yan had seemed like a beautifully crafted but tightly sealed seashell, its inner depths hidden from view. Now, the shell’s edges had cracked open, as if the whole world had suddenly become brighter.

In reality, Su Yan was still primarily cared for by her assistant. Chu Xiyue mostly helped by handing her things or offering support. Within a couple of days, Su Yan’s hand had regained full mobility, though she still couldn’t film scenes involving strenuous physical activity.

A week later, filming at the current location was nearing completion. The remaining scenes would be shot back at Film City. On the penultimate day, Su Yan’s hand was almost fully healed. They reshot the earlier scene, and the horse-riding sequence went smoothly this time. The props team had taken extra precautions, meticulously inspecting the set multiple times to ensure safety. Su Yan, determined to succeed, nailed the shot in a single take.

The prop team, their lanterns lit, erupted in cheers as the two horses were finally “off duty,” led away by their owners who had received their compensation. Bei Yaoyao, having finished her scenes for the day, stood nearby, her eyes sparkling as she changed out of her heavy costume. She couldn’t help but marvel to her assistant:

“Teacher Su is so cool! Even with her wrist injury, her action scenes flow so smoothly. I’m so impressed!”

Gao Lu, standing beside her, smiled and added, “After all, she’s Su Yan.”

For many young actors, the older generation was one thing, but Su Yan, the newly crowned Best Actress, remained an insurmountable, legendary figure in their eyes. Throughout the long shoot, except for the time her injury was severe, she had never once slacked off. Though her personality wasn’t as lively, cheerful, and smiley as Chu Xiyue’s, she was still a kind and approachable person.

Film shoots rarely last long. With only about a month left of filming, their time together was coming to an end. Soon after returning to Film City, Bei Yaoyao would wrap up her scenes early, making her the most reluctant to leave.

With the filming progressing smoothly, Director Yang organized a small celebration banquet before leaving the village that evening. The feast was held in a spacious courtyard capable of accommodating dozens of people, featuring locally brewed rice wine. Each table was toasted individually, the cups perpetually refilled to the brim.

By the end of the day, at least a dozen people were thoroughly drunk. The assistant director, who remained sober, organized everyone to escort the inebriated guests back to their rooms and lock the doors. Bei Yaoyao, after downing two cups of rice wine, initially felt nothing and continued joking around. But as the alcohol truly kicked in, she began wandering around in a drunken stupor.

Gao Lu, who had a sensitive stomach and abstained from alcohol, was now tasked with “rounding up” the stragglers. She grabbed Bei Yaoyao by the arm, deposited her in her room, and returned to find that the two people who had been sitting nearby had vanished.

“Huh? Where did Teacher Chu and Teacher Su go?”

Su Yan had rarely drunk alcohol, but today she made an exception.

She only had a small sip—barely a cup, under Chu Xiyue’s watchful eye—but the rice wine lived up to its reputation, flushing her cheeks. Chu Xiyue, who remained completely sober, enthusiastically helped escort the others back to their rooms. Before leaving, she made sure to tell Su Yan:

“Don’t go to sleep yet! Play on your phone, read a book, and wait for me. I’ll come find you later!”

Su Yan had no idea what Miss Chu was up to, but she didn’t deny it. Under Miss Chu’s unwavering gaze, she finally nodded.

Before long, Su Yan felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her. After returning to her room, she only removed her outer clothes, intending to lie down for a moment. Instead, she drifted off to sleep on the bed.

Her sleep wasn’t particularly restful. In her slightly tipsy state, she clung to the last vestiges of consciousness, her ears still picking up sounds from outside. The gentle breeze seemed to be rustling against the doorframe, and the person who had been beside her had vanished. Su Yan’s slender fingers tightened around the pillow, its softness comforting against her palm, the faint, familiar scent of shampoo lingering on its surface.

Later, after what felt like an eternity—just as she was about to slip completely into dreamland—she suddenly heard hurried footsteps. The person who rushed in carried the chill of the night air with them. Seeing Su Yan instinctively sit up in bed, still dressed in her midnight attire, they spoke with urgent enthusiasm:

“Su Yan, Su Yan, get up! Come with me!”

Still groggy, Su Yan blinked hard, trying to clear the mist from her eyes. Her voice was languid, her tone drawn out as she asked:

“Where are we going?”

Chu Xiyue was all fired up:

“You’ll see when we get there! Get up! You’ll regret it if you don’t!”

Su Yan glanced at her phone—1 a.m. Not too late for someone working on a film set. Besides, she had promised Chu Xiyue earlier that evening, and Su Yan wasn’t one to break her word. Resigned, she rolled out of bed.

In the next moment, Miss Chu grabbed her hand, the long-absent warmth of a dry palm pressing against hers.

Su Yan shook her head to clear her thoughts. The night breeze outside sobered her up considerably. Chu Xiyue had already removed her makeup, revealing her clear, clean face—like a snow-white camellia washed by rain, radiating a refreshing fragrance. Though lacking the flamboyant intensity of a rose, she possessed an equally delicate and graceful beauty.

Without asking where Chu Xiyue was taking her, Su Yan slipped into her shoes and let the woman lead her forward by the hand.

This time, there was no torrential rain. The night wind brushed gently against their faces, stripping away the day’s lingering heat. As they walked along the mountain path, they occasionally glimpsed nearby village houses. The crisp chirping of insects echoed through the open fields, evoking the timeless rhythm of the seasons.

As they walked deeper into the forest, Chu Xiyue’s energy seemed boundless. She continued to reassure Su Yan, whose hand she held, that they were almost there. This wasn’t a sudden whim; Su Yan seemed particularly “well-behaved” tonight, likely because she was truly drunk. Otherwise, she would have definitely called Chu Xiyue crazy for dragging her out in the middle of the night.

As they neared their destination, Chu Xiyue spotted a faint glow. Unlike the beam from her flashlight, this light was soft and filled with a vibrant, life-affirming warmth.

In a daze, Chu Xiyue felt as if she had returned to the countryside she had visited as a child. Yet even that place paled in comparison to the romantic ambiance here—a testament to Yang Ruoshui’s discerning eye for the perfect filming location.

“Look, we’re here!”

As she spoke, the ethereal glow of fireflies, nestled deep within the vast forest, suddenly came into view.