Provoking Fire [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 40

The fireflies’ faint glow illuminated only a small patch of ground, yet it spread recklessly, like stars fallen from the sky, scattering into clusters that wove together into a brilliant constellation of twinkling lights.

Despite running along mountain paths for so long, Chu Xiyue remained full of energy, her gaze darting back and forth between Su Yan and the floating fireflies. She watched Su Yan, who had her hands cupped over her mouth, breathing into her palms. The half of her face visible was lit by bright, entranced eyes.

This was the first time Chu Xiyue had seen Su Yan like this, rarely witnessing such a childlike side of her. Before she knew it, she found herself smiling.

Her tone teasing, Chu Xiyue looked at Su Yan, her smile almost uncontrollable:

“Teacher Su, you really love fireflies, don’t you?”

What does it mean to “love” something?

Su Yan’s fascination with fireflies stemmed from a long-ago conversation. When a young girl described the dazzling city lights at night, she used fireflies as a metaphor. At the time, Su Yan was too young to grasp the reality of urban illumination, so her longing transformed into the familiar sight of summer nights in the countryside.

But back then, she was strictly supervised at home, and summer nights were plagued by mosquitoes. Every time she ventured outside, she’d end up covered in bites, never experiencing the romance she’d imagined.

In this setting, with someone beside her, Su Yan felt her heartbeat racing wildly, pounding fiercely against her chest. She quietly stepped back, as if the person next to her could hear her heart pounding.

Her voice was strained as she stood upwind, the cold breeze subconsciously shielding Chu Xiyue:

“I just mentioned it casually before. Why are you taking it so…”

…to heart?

Su Yan didn’t finish the sentence, but Chu Xiyue read it in her eyes. Knowing Su Yan’s personality well, she smiled brightly:

“I didn’t want to at first—it’s so much trouble. But after all—”

“The injured person gets priority.”

Chu Xiyue’s clear, bright peach blossom eyes, which should have conveyed deep affection, instead carried a hint of mischief in her smile. Against the backdrop of dancing fireflies, Su Yan suddenly wanted to press the shutter and capture this moment—a moment she couldn’t quite define.

But this wasn’t a dating show. Despite her racing heart, she had no reason to take Chu Xiyue’s hand and naturally intertwine their fingers. All her excitement remained hidden.

In the end, Su Yan simply patted Chu Xiyue lightly on the back of her head.

Chu Xiyue turned around, seeing a smile on Su Yan’s face as well. Knowing her efforts had been reciprocated filled her with contentment.

After spending half the night watching fireflies on the mountain, both women caught colds. The next morning, as they prepared to move locations, Director Yang, who had rested well overnight, looked at Chu Xiyue’s dark circles with a puzzled expression.

“Xiao Chu, did you go robbing someone last night?”

The entire crew had to wake up at 5 AM to catch a flight to the provincial capital. Chu Xiyue and Su Yan only returned at 3 AM, barely getting any sleep before it was time to gather.

Chu Xiyue wanted to reply, but she couldn’t help yawning.

“Where’s Su Yan? Wasn’t she with you last night?”

Just as he finished speaking, Su Yan arrived, dragging her suitcase. Though she wasn’t yawning as much as Chu Xiyue, her own dark circles were like a buy-one-get-one-free deal.

“Morning,” Su Yan greeted lazily, her usually meticulously styled long hair hanging loose. It was clear she had only managed to wash her face before rushing out.

Director Yang: “……”

She was about to mention that they hadn’t drunk much the night before, but a sudden thought made her feel uneasy, so she quickly changed the subject and called out to the others.

The entire film crew finally finished packing up and preparing to leave.

During their stay, they hadn’t eaten boxed meals. Instead, they hired local villagers to cook and run errands. Generous with their money, they often paid hundreds of yuan for even the smallest tasks, earning the deep affection of the locals. As they departed, villagers helped carry their luggage, reluctant to see them go.

The firefly-lit hillside Chu Xiyue had discovered earlier was pointed out by a local girl. Impressed by her generosity, Chu Xiyue gave her a red envelope containing 888 yuan, making the girl overjoyed.

“Goodbye, pretty sister!”

As the car pulled away, watching the village recede into the distance, Chu Xiyue felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as if she were reliving her childhood days of traveling with her family.

But she had long known that sometimes “goodbyes” were merely polite formalities, and most “goodbyes” simply faded into forgotten corners.

Time flew by on set. Chi Yao visited again, this time generously treating the entire crew to milk tea and desserts. Everyone knew about Chi Yao and Chu Xiyue’s close relationship, and they even teased the pair. Seeing the warm atmosphere, Chi Yao felt reassured and chatted with Director Yang before leaving.

A month passed in a blur. On the final day of filming, Bei Yaoyao cried for a long time before reluctantly leaving the set. Due to other commitments, she couldn’t linger and had to depart on time. However, two weeks later, when the entire crew wrapped up their scenes, Chu Xiyue didn’t rush to leave the filming location. There was still a wrap party to attend.

Midway through filming, Chu Xiyue had overheard Su Yan’s phone call with her manager, learning that Su Yan had already booked other engagements, including a fashion show. These commercial endorsements were crucial for artists; even the most dedicated actors couldn’t afford to focus solely on acting at a young age. Building commercial visibility was essential. Chu Xiyue had assumed Su Yan would skip the wrap party, but when she asked, she received a definite “yes.”

Gazing into those deep, dark eyes, Chu Xiyue nearly blurted out a joke, but sensing the danger, she swallowed it back.

“Good, good. Just don’t end up missing the premiere because the lead actress can’t make it.”

“The premiere is still a long way off,” Su Yan corrected her earnestly. “I’ll definitely clear my schedule by then.”

A film premiere involves the lead actors and director attending screenings to interact with the audience, answering questions and engaging in more formal promotional activities. This practice has only gained popularity in recent years. Su Yan’s previous films hadn’t featured such events, and while she would cooperate with publicity efforts, she rarely participated in these kinds of activities.

Commercial films rely heavily on promotion, and the In Character crew had already worked hard on this, having agreed on the terms with Su Yan well before filming began.

With this arrangement, the duo’s CP would remain temporarily bound, ensuring a significant boost in popularity during the film’s release.

Lately, Chu Xiyue had almost forgotten the feeling of “living on the edge.” Only occasionally did she remember to check her bl00d bar, discovering it had extended to over three years—a far cry from the initial three-month urgency.

At the age of 22, Miss Chu felt quite satisfied.

At least I can make it to 25 without any trouble, she thought.

Negotiating the terms was one thing, but Su Yan’s personal promise to come was another. Chu Xiyue, in high spirits, sprawled on the plush sofa and snapped several selfies, planning to include them in tonight’s wrap party photo series. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she crept up behind Su Yan, who was preparing coffee.

“Teacher Su?”

Su Yan’s hand jerked, accidentally dropping a sugar cube into the cup. The splashing coffee nearly stained her clothes, but she quickly stepped back, only to bump into Chu Xiyue. With a startled “Aiya!” Chu Xiyue instinctively wrapped her arm around Su Yan’s waist to prevent her from falling backward.

Chu Xiyue, tall and athletic, possessed considerable strength. The women around her, including her assistant, were mostly shorter than 1.7 meters, and she was accustomed to performing small acts of care for them almost unconsciously. This habit kicked in automatically when she was around Su Yan.

But she forgot that Su Yan wasn’t exactly petite. By the time she realized her mistake, she was already being pulled backward. The bed was behind them, and Su Yan landed on top of her, pressing Chu Xiyue down with enough force to elicit a soft groan.

The vulnerable, tender spot had been struck perfectly, and a physiological sheen of tears welled up in Chu Xiyue’s eyes. Su Yan seemed to notice something was wrong and scrambled to her feet, pulling Chu Xiyue up with her.

The bed had already been made, but the white sheets still bore the lingering traces of their recent entanglement. In the charged atmosphere, the marks seemed particularly suggestive and intimate.

Though Su Yan hadn’t meant to fall on top of her, seeing Chu Xiyue clutching her chest made her throat go dry. Her gaze shifted awkwardly away.

Chu Xiyue, who had been bent over like a mosquito coil, didn’t realize Su Yan’s discomfort. Perhaps Su Yan’s “straight girl” persona had become so deeply ingrained that Chu Xiyue simply grumbled, “Watch it! Did you spill any coffee?”

Su Yan had been standing there not for any particular reason, but to make coffee for Chu Xiyue. For some reason, the coffee Su Yan brewed was always more fragrant than anything Chu Xiyue could buy at a café, and it was perfectly customized to her taste.

The coffee concentrate had been prepared in advance, ground from beans Su Yan had ground earlier. When Chu Xiyue first learned that Su Yan could grind coffee, she had thought to herself, “This woman truly lives up to her ‘old cadre’ persona.”

Everything Su Yan did was methodical and meticulous, taken with deadly seriousness.

Chu Xiyue had once been interested in making coffee herself, but like all her other attempts at manual crafts, she quickly abandoned it, likely because she simply lacked the talent.

Su Yan probably hadn’t expected Chu Xiyue to be concerned about this first. Her gaze finally returned to the spilled coffee, showing no regret for the wasted concentrate she had brewed:

“Sit down. I’ll make you another cup.”

In the past, Chu Xiyue would never have imagined that her former rival would obediently sit down and make coffee for her at her request. Now, she accepted the gesture with a clear conscience.