Chapter 7 – Continuing to Boost

“When Orioles Take Flight” was the name of the TV series that Jiang Ruo had gone to audition for.

Produced by a new film company based in Feng City, these local projects typically required investment support from prominent local enterprises.

Therefore, Jiang Ruo was confident that Xi Yufeng could lend a hand with this matter.

He had pondered this all the way here, and now that it was out in the open, he felt an immense sense of relief.

He never boasted about being noble; since this had turned into a transaction, and his last shred of dignity had been trampled underfoot, why not brazenly seize this opportunity to benefit himself?

Jiang Ruo let out a sigh of relief after coming to this realization.

The rest was left to Xi Yufeng’s decision. Regardless of whether he was willing to help, Jiang Ruo had done his best to secure assistance, and he would have no regrets.

Xi Yufeng paused for a moment before posing a question, “When Orioles Take Flight…the drama produced by Jia Shi?”

Jiang Ruo thought to himself that it was indeed true — information, big or small, flowed freely in Feng City. He hurriedly nodded. “Yes, it’s a youth inspirational TV series.”

Just moments ago, he had been baring his fangs and snarling, but now he instantly became obedient, his eyes fixed intently on the person inside the car, afraid that they might vanish if he blinked.

Xi Yufeng tapped his fingers on the armrest and asked again, “Why not the lead role?”

Logically speaking, the lead role was undoubtedly the best in terms of screen time, but…

“I like the setting of the second male lead. I want to play him,” said Jiang Ruo. “Can you tell me if this favor can be granted or not?”

His tone was firm and justified, yet Xi Yufeng sensed his unease.

There was uncertainty in entrusting his fate to someone else’s hands, along with an intense desire that couldn’t be concealed.

This expression seemed familiar to Xi Yufeng, as though he had seen it somewhere before.

Unable to recall where for the moment, and not wanting to leave the person standing outside in the rain for too long, Xi Yufeng informed the person outside the window, “I’ll have someone inquire about it. I’ll get back to you when there’s news.”

The rain continued until midnight before it finally stopped. The next day, the clouds dispersed and the sky cleared up. Jiang Ruo prepared a yam and pork rib soup and delivered it to the hospital. While serving the soup to An He, the tip of his nose itched, and he turned around to sneeze three times in a row.

An He took the spoon and served himself, “I warned you it would rain and told you to bring an umbrella, but you refused to listen.”

Jiang Ruo drew a tissue to wipe his nose and mumbled, “What a hassle. If I forget to bring it back after leaving it somewhere, I’d have to buy a new one.”

“Don’t you buy an umbrella to just leave it at home as a decoration?” An He didn’t understand.

Jiang Ruo argued earnestly, “Some things can be left untouched, but you must possess them.”

An He scooped a spoonful of soup and hastily put it in his mouth, only to be scalded and draw in a sharp breath. “Like…like a dream?”

Hearing this word that hadn’t been mentioned for a long time, Jiang Ruo was taken aback for a moment before smiling. “Something like that.”

Xi Yufeng’s efficiency in handling matters was higher than expected. Around three o’clock in the afternoon, Jiang Ruo received a call from the production team of “When Orioles Take Flight,” notifying him to attend a second round of auditions the following afternoon.

It was an expected result.

After hanging up, Jiang Ruo picked up his phone and sent a message to a certain number: “Received the notification from the production team. Thank you, President Xi.”

Believing that the content of the text message was sincere, polite, and beyond reproach, Jiang Ruo tossed his phone aside after sending it and grabbed a kettle to fetch hot water.

When he returned, he accompanied An He for routine preoperative physical examinations. The surgery was scheduled for the following week, to be performed by the chief physician. Jiang Ruo had looked it up online — this hospital in Feng City, especially this physician, had considerable experience in treating heart diseases, and patient feedback was favorable.

Still superstitious, he flipped through the almanac and even studied the next week’s astrology predictions, ensuring they were all auspicious before feeling reassured.

There were numerous examination items, and they were busy throughout the afternoon. Upon returning to the ward and settling down, his phone rang.

This time, it was a call from the production team of the crew where Jiang Ruo had previously played the driver. The executive director named Zhao Sen presented a spectacular Sichuan opera face-changing performance, and his voice alone revealed his flattery and obsequiousness.

“That matter last time was due to a misunderstanding within the production team.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m making this call today on behalf of the production team to apologize to Teacher Jiang and to invite you to return to our production team.”

It was the first time Jiang Ruo had been called “teacher,” and he nearly burst out laughing. “Return for what? To continue playing the driver?”

Zhao Sen hurriedly said, “No, no, no. The driver role doesn’t offer much room for performance. We have several more significant roles…”

“There’s no need for that,” Jiang Ruo felt increasingly disheartened as he listened, making it difficult for him to maintain his politeness. “Last time, when you kicked me out, everyone in the production team saw it. Do you think they’ll view me differently if I return?”

Without waiting for Zhao Sen to answer, Jiang Ruo continued, “Besides, I don’t have the habit of eating grass that has already been chewed. Even if the grass is fresh and tender, and there’s only one such blade in the entire world.”

After hanging up the call, he happened to see the notification for a text message on the screen — it was from Xi Yufeng.

Opening it to take a look, there were only four words: “Just going through the motions.”

At this moment, Jiang Ruo’s mood could also be described with just four words — extremely displeased.

Although he had been triumphant on the phone earlier, blocking the other party to the point where they couldn’t speak, once the conversation ended, the pleasure of revenge vanished instantaneously, leaving behind only the emptiness after the release of tension.

What did he have to be proud of? Obtaining the opportunity he had yearned for and receiving special treatment was all because Xi Yufeng had helped him behind the scenes?

Rumors might already be spreading outside — Jiang Ruo, the obscure actor, had climbed onto the influential tycoon of Feng City. His future acting career was bound to take off.

Even though he had envisioned this situation and mentally prepared himself before approaching Xi Yufeng, when it actually came to pass, Jiang Ruo still felt a bit stifled.

However, he had experienced a lot and had honed his ability for self-regulation. When he picked up his phone again, there was no trace of it on his face.

He replied to the text message: “Thank you, President Xi.”

Not knowing what to say, expressing gratitude wouldn’t go wrong.

Waiting for a while, there was no further response from the other end. Jiang Ruo considered this matter to have come to a close.

Taking a deep breath as he put down his phone, he felt a mixture of lightness akin to unburdening himself and an unnamed emptiness.

Fortunately, time pushed him forward incessantly. Jiang Ruo pulled out the script and read the lines he had marked with a pen, immersing himself in the story soon after.

Under the arrangement of a powerful figure, the second round of auditions naturally went smoother and more easily than the first.

But the so-called “formality” still had to be observed. As he waited in line at the door, Jiang Ruo scanned the people in front and behind him. He thought he might develop a sense of pity, but actually, he didn’t.

When he had suffered unfair treatment, no one had pitied him. Now that the situation had reversed, he wouldn’t extend excessive sympathy to those whose futures were already determined.

There was a minor incident during the audition process.

In the scene Jiang Ruo was performing, the plot revolved around the second male lead, also known as Xie Fangyuan, contemplating the idea of returning to the stage. Memories flashed before his eyes, intertwined with his agonizing inner monologue. He walked alone on a dark road, with clear moonlight shining down. The only sound around was the wind. He gradually stopped, lifted his gaze to the moon above his head, and spread his arms on a desolate, uninhabited ground, beginning to dance.

Originally, this segment primarily tested facial expressions and diction skills. But at the end, Jiang Ruo couldn’t resist and tiptoed to perform a few simple ballet moves.

After the performance, one of the evaluators, the casting director, lowered his head to look at the resume. “Jiang Ruo, right? Have you learned to dance?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ruo said. “I transitioned from folk dance to modern dance.”

Students majoring in dance would know a little of every type of dance, and with a solid foundation, even if they learned something new, they would still have a semblance of style.

Upon hearing this, the casting director nodded. “Good.”

Jiang Ruo noticed that his originally serious expression softened, as if he had let out a sigh of relief.

It seemed he had assumed some calamity had befallen them, and a good-for-nothing had been stuffed into their well-run production team. Now, upon discovering that this person with connections had some professional skills, he was naturally grateful to heaven.

The results of the second round of auditions were announced on the spot.

Jiang Ruo subsequently became even busier. On one side, there was An He, who was about to undergo surgery, and on the other, there was the filming about to start.

The new film company was highly motivated and filled the upcoming schedule tightly once the actors were confirmed. Script readings, promotional photo shoots, filming commencement ceremonies… Originally, Jiang Ruo thought that the twenty or so days before joining the crew would be enough to care for An He until he was discharged from the hospital. However, Jiang Ruo followed the crew’s directions wherever they went, leaving early and returning late every day, barely encountering An He when he was awake.

Failing to fulfill a promise he had made, Jiang Ruo felt guilty. An He consoled him to ease his mind.

“I’m hospitalized to wait for surgery, not because my leg is broken and I can’t move. I don’t need you to stay here to take care of me all day. Besides…” An He lowered his eyes. “Besides, you’ve worked so hard to get this opportunity. You can’t mess it up because of me. Even if it’s just for the sake of money, shooting is more important.”

Regarding the surgery fees, Jiang Ruo told An He that he borrowed the money from an old classmate. An He knew that when Jiang Ruo dropped out of the dance academy, he had almost lost the support of everyone. Hearing it was an old classmate, An He almost didn’t want to undergo the surgery, urging Jiang Ruo to return the money quickly and avoid getting into trouble again.

Jiang Ruo could only say it was a middle school classmate, someone with whom he had a good relationship and no grudges.

He hadn’t thought about saying it was family who lent the money, as that would be less credible. After all, even An He knew that his family was long gone, with not a single member left.

Fortunately, An He was gullible and easy to deceive, allowing Jiang Ruo to talk his way out of it with a few words.

Thus, while Jiang Ruo was busy outside, his thoughts were with the hospital. In recent days, he would rush off immediately after the script readings concluded.

On this day, he couldn’t escape. Just as he closed the script and stood up, he was stopped by Director Sun Yao. “Xiao Jiang, don’t be in a hurry to leave.”

It turned out that a dinner gathering was arranged for tonight, involving not only the crew members present but also several major investors who had been invited.

With the director’s order, Jiang Ruo had no choice but to stay.

On the way to the hotel with the crew, Jiang Ruo took out his phone and sent a message to An He. An He expressed profound understanding of the helplessness of social obligations and instructed him to eat his fill, telling him to consume the portion he couldn’t eat on his behalf. He advised him to eat fish, shrimp, and whatever was expensive.

Craving food vividly, he didn’t seem like a patient about to enter the operating room the next day.

Upon arriving at the destination and getting out of the car, what caught his eye was the discreetly luxurious neon sign of Jin Garden. Jiang Ruo suddenly had a bad feeling.

Once inside and seated, he heard the noise in the hallway outside becoming closer and closer, with repeated calls of “Brother.” It sounded strangely familiar.

Then, the producer and director stood up in unison. Jiang Ruo’s eyelids twitched, and he stubbornly avoided looking towards the entrance.

Blocking one’s ears against the bell was a poor strategy. What was meant to happen would still occur.

Jiang Ruo heard the producer’s presumptuous arrangement. “President Xi, why don’t you sit there, in the seat next to Xiao Jiang.”

Not hearing any objections, Jiang Ruo felt a chill approaching. Immediately afterward, the chair beside him was pulled out, and someone sat down.

On his third visit to Jin Garden, Jiang Ruo still failed to savor the deliciousness of the dishes at this upscale hotel.

He couldn’t sit still, as if covering his ears could prevent him from hearing the gossip about Xi Yufeng and himself.

It was nothing more than talk of connections, resources, kept men, lovers — the sort of things that were common in the circle. Jiang Ruo hadn’t yet learned how to coexist peacefully with these disdainful yet envious gazes.

As the gathering neared its end, Jiang Ruo excused himself to go to the restroom and remained in the stall for over twenty minutes.

He spent another three minutes washing his hands, estimating that the gathering should be dispersing by now. Jiang Ruo walked out confidently.

And then he encountered the person he least wanted to see.

Alongside his brother, dressed like a gigolo.

Realizing that the actor who had just come out of the restroom was the one sitting beside Xi Yufeng, Xi Wangchen whistled lewdly. “Brother, your little lover is here. How did you say he had already left?”

Jiang Ruo was caught between a rock and a hard place. He was considering whether to ignore this pair of brothers and walk away straight or to grit his teeth and greet them. His wandering gaze inadvertently met with a gaze directed at him, causing him to subconsciously inhale sharply.

Jiang Ruo knew he couldn’t escape.

No one could overlook Xi Yufeng, even if he merely stood there, with neither pleading nor warmth in his eyes, gazing at passersby calmly.

His tone was as indifferent as ever. “I didn’t know he was still here.”

Analyzing the situation swiftly based on what he had witnessed previously, Jiang Ruo sighed inwardly and resigned himself to his fate. As he approached and stood beside Xi Yufeng, he already put on his best acting skills.

Squeezing out an impeccable smile, Jiang Ruo said, “I was originally going to leave but wanted to see him one more time. After all, I won’t be able to see him often once filming starts.”

These words undeniably confirmed their relationship.

Jiang Ruo noticed the uncontrollable delight on Xi Wangchen’s face, similar to a failing student at the end of the semester who unexpectedly heard good news about the top students in the class being late.

“I didn’t expect you to really like guys, Brother…” Unable to resist his doubts, Xi Wangchen sized up Jiang Ruo, looking at him as if he were a commodity. “But since he’s an actor, how come I’ve never seen him on TV?”

These words struck a chord in Jiang Ruo’s heart. Having mixed in the entertainment circle for two years without gaining any recognition, his smile almost faltered.

Just as he was about to say something to counterattack, he was preempted by Xi Yufeng. “After finishing this drama, you’ll be able to see him.”

Xi Wangchen continued to pour cold water. “Brother, you might not know this, but the plot is too straightforward, like a period drama. It’s also a female-centric drama, so it won’t boost the male actors…”

Jiang Ruo could hardly bear to listen anymore. He thought to himself that if he had a brother who was so tactless and mouthy, he would have beaten him senseless with a stick long ago, leaving him unable to distinguish east from west.

As he was lost in thought, he didn’t notice the actions of the person beside him. Jiang Ruo’s shoulder was hugged by a strong hand, which then led him in a certain direction.

In that instant, when he collided into Xi Yufeng’s embrace, the scent of cool cedarwood, only perceptible at close range, invaded his nostrils, accompanied by a faint aroma of tobacco.

It gave Jiang Ruo a rare sensation that he was a living, breathing human being.

His voice became much closer due to the shortened distance, and he could even feel the vibrations emanating from his chest when he spoke.

A deep and resonant voice, even when speaking the indecent words of a rogue, sounded pleasant to the ear.

“Then I’ll invest in a few more productions, and continue to boost him,” said Xi Yufeng.