ASFSODS 25

Director Xu looked at Jiang Siheng thoughtfully, then cautiously asked, “Is he your…”

Jiang Siheng locked his phone screen and turned to Xiao Pang. “Go downstairs and bring him up,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard the question at all.

Director Xu: “…”

When Jiang Siheng turned back and saw Director Xu still staring at him, he asked, “What?”

Director Xu took a sip of tea, sighed comfortably, then repeated his earlier question. “That boy, is he your what?”

Jiang Siheng had been about to say “friend,” but remembered something Wen Chi had said before. The words shifted as they came out. 

“…Good friend.”

Director Xu looked skeptical. Somehow, those two words didn’t sound quite right coming from him.

Ignoring the look, Jiang Siheng said, “There might be a variety crew’s camera following us later. If there’s anything in here that shouldn’t be on camera or shouldn’t be seen by Aunt Pan, you might want to put it away now.”

Director Xu’s focus shifted immediately. He gave a short laugh. “What do you mean ‘shouldn’t be seen by your Aunt Pan’?”

Jiang Siheng shot him a look as he reached for a cigarette box on the table and tucked it back into a drawer.

“I thought you were quitting.”

“I am, I am,” said Director Xu, a man in his fifties, now looking slightly sheepish in front of Jiang Siheng. “Quitting takes time. There’s a process. You brat, what kind of look is that?”

Jiang Siheng looked away without responding.

Not long after, Xiao Pang returned, knocked on the door, and peeked inside. “Jiang Ge, Director Xu.”

Director Xu noticed the visitor didn’t come in right away and with Jiang Siheng already on his feet, his curiosity grew. “Let him in.”

Xiao Pang opened the door fully and stepped aside to make room.

Wen Chi walked in, gripping the straps of his crossbody bag. Xiao Pang had already told him in the elevator that this “friend” Jiang Siheng mentioned yesterday was none other than Director Xu Yulin. The very director who made him famous with one film, and who’d gone on to direct several box office smashes.

Wen Chi might still be a small-time actor, but when he was filming his very first role, his manager Jin Ge had literally taped a photo of Director Xu on his forehead and said, “This is your goal.”

Back then, Wen Chi had panicked. Sure, he was gay, but he wasn’t trying to seduce someone’s husband!

Jin Ge had thrown a pillow at him for that.

Remembering all this, Wen Chi sighed. Then quickly reminded himself, he wasn’t here to audition. What was he even nervous about?

As he stepped into the room, his eyes locked instantly onto Jiang Siheng. It was as if no one else existed. He walked right over and leaned in. “Teacher Jiang.”

The cameraman, Xiao Zhou, followed behind him, gave Director Xu a nod and a polite bow. He’d been briefed: film what Director Xu allowed, skip what he didn’t.

Even though one directed variety and the other film, Director Xu held more clout and seniority than Variety Director Ma Chuanbai.

Jiang Siheng reached for Wen Chi’s wrist and pulled him a little closer. “Tired?”

“Not at all,” Wen Chi replied. He had barely walked today aside from getting in and out of the car.

Xiao Pang, used to their livestreams, wasn’t fazed—but Director Xu, who never watched them, looked completely stunned.

Jiang Siheng made the introduction. “This is Wen Chi. Wen as in warm, Chi as in pond.”

Wen Chi greeted politely, “Hello, Director Xu.”

Director Xu beamed. “Hello, Xiao Wen.”

He subtly examined Wen Chi. What was it about this boy that caught Jiang Siheng’s eye?

Well, the looks were decent. Voice, too. Dressed neatly, fresh and clean, like a college kid who had just graduated.

Wen Chi’s Livestream Room

[He really brought him to meet Director Xu?!]

[Wait, is he trying to get him a role or something?]

[Wow this is wild.]

[The second I knew they were a CP, I suspected something like this.]

[Xiao Chi’s living the dream.]

[Am I the only one uncomfortable?]

[Is Director Xu going to cast him just because of Jiang Siheng?]

[Can Wen Chi even act?]

[Actually, he’s pretty good.]

[Front row critic, who even are you to say that?]

Fan Sang Sang was just about to reply to a doubter in the comments, but stopped herself. Stirring things up would only bring more trouble to Wen Chi. She let it go.

Meanwhile, fans from other celebrity streams who had wandered in to “check things out” were now fully immersed, munching on the drama.

But the big CP-sell moment fans had anticipated—Jiang Siheng recommending Wen Chi to Director Xu—never came. Jiang Siheng didn’t let their conversation go deeper.

He checked the time, then turned to Director Xu. “We’ll get going.”

Director Xu raised an eyebrow. “That’s all you came for?”

“We’ll talk another time.” Jiang Siheng reached out and gently squeezed the back of Wen Chi’s neck. “Let’s go.”

Wen Chi noticed that the man really had a habit of touching him. His wrist, his neck…

“Okay.” He turned back and said, “Goodbye, Director Xu.”

So well-behaved it was almost comical.

Director Xu waved them off. “Go on, go on.”

Wen Chi had been in the office less than ten minutes. Fans waiting for a dramatic recommendation scene were left with nothing.

Once they were in the elevator, surrounded by familiar faces, Wen Chi began to chatter. “Teacher Jiang, that Director Xu just now, is he the one from your first movie?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Siheng replied.

“He looks so young. Doesn’t feel like someone in their fifties at all.”

Jiang Siheng chuckled. “What do you think people in their fifties look like?”

He had asked casually, but Wen Chi took it seriously, even gesturing as he answered. “Definitely older than Director Xu. He could easily pass for early forties. Still looks really young.”

“Forty-something’s still young?”

“Of course!” Wen Chi grinned. “My dad’s in his forties too. He looks about the same as Director Xu.”

Jiang Siheng laughed. “Then your dad must be really young.”

“Exactly,” Wen Chi agreed enthusiastically.

Xiao Pang, standing beside the cameraman, beamed. He wasn’t on camera, so he watched them openly with a full-on auntie smile blooming across his chubby face.