Chapter 53: Whimsical Thoughts

"Who cares what others say? Everyone has weaknesses; just work on improving yourself," Fang Hong said.

This remark resonated with Liu Tianxian; she held much the same attitude toward gossip and rumors.

She looked at the man beside her—he was seriously teaching her acting, encouraging her, perhaps genuinely hoping she'd improve her performance and elevate herself.

"Hey!" Liu Tianxian slapped his arm. "Do you have any weaknesses?"

"No, I'm perfect," Fang Hong shook his head.

"You just said everyone has weaknesses, but now you're perfect? So all that motivational crap was just for me to drink, not for you?"

Liu Tianxian sneered—so hypocritical.

"Alright, fine, I do have weaknesses," Fang Hong decided to drink the soup along with her.

"What weakness?" Liu Tianxian asked curiously.

Fang Hong gestured with his hand; Liu Tianxian turned her face, pressing her ear close.

Her ear was translucent and delicate—he wanted to lick it.

Fang Hong whispered into her ear: "I'm tone-deaf. I sing terribly."

The warmth of his breath made her earlobe tingle; she turned, startled. "Really?"

"Really," Fang Hong nodded.

"But I heard you sing the theme song of Those Years—it sounded pretty good."

"That was post-produced. Every single word was fixed."

Fang Hong added: "Don't tell anyone. I've only told you this."

Liu Tianxian looked at him, squinted, and smiled. "Fine. I'll keep this secret for you."

The two now shared a little secret.

Fang Hong glanced at her—this relationship had gotten a little closer.

The apartment set was still unchanged; more shots remained to be filmed, and it took many days to finish.

While The Days of Love was still being filmed, the box office potential of Those Years had dried up, earning only tens of thousands per day.

The current box office stood at 132 million yuan, and that was it—no further growth was possible; they were just waiting for the screening to end.

Though this box office performance paled compared to big-budget blockbusters.

But as a youth-themed film with low production costs, the returns had far exceeded expectations.

Excluding Hollywood blockbusters, the highest-grossing domestic film so far was Aftershock at 649 million yuan.

This year, the little powerhouse still had If You Are the One 2 coming out.

Right now, the little powerhouse was riding high—even publicly berating the Golden Horse Awards chairman for his wife's nomination for Golden Horse Best Actress not winning.

Regardless of personal character, this couple truly loved each other.

Even though Those Years' box office had stalled, people could still download it online, so its popularity hadn't faded—it still sparked constant discussion.

One blogger posted a long article online:

"I thought I'd be moved to tears, but I wasn't; I thought I'd analyze the film's details afterward, but I didn't.

After watching, I couldn't care less about the brilliant scenes on screen—I was only tangled in the memories of my own youth. My story wasn't as dramatic as the film's, but that didn't stop me from projecting my own adolescence onto it.

I once did childish things for the girl I liked, but now we've become complete strangers.

I still keep the scarf and gloves she gave me, but I haven't looked at our old photos in a long time.

The film is good, but plagiarism is shameful. Please, Mr. Principal, stop plagiarizing."

This long review was widely reposted; Fang Hong saw it too, but he didn't take it seriously.

If I had a choice, who would plagiarize?

On set, they were now filming Liu Tianxian meeting her best friend at a café, as invited.

The two sat facing each other; the best friend looked guilty—after all, she'd stolen the other's boyfriend.

Liu Tianxian's expression was cold.

"Tianxian, I'm so sorry. Really sorry," the best friend apologized.

Liu Tianxian flew into rage, snatched the glass on the table, and smashed it hard on the floor with a "Bang!"

"You extras—what's wrong with you? Why no reaction at all?" Fang Hong suddenly shouted.

When Liu Tianxian smashed the glass, the background extras had acted as if nothing happened.

"Sorry, Director."

The extras thought sitting quietly was enough—they hadn't realized they needed to react.

"Extras are actors too. Treat it seriously."

Fang Hong didn't scold harshly—he continued: "When Yifei smashes the glass next time, you need to show surprise, give the proper reaction."

"Understood, Director," the extras replied.

"Yifei, your intensity isn't enough. Make it stronger."

Fang Hong thought for a moment: "After she finishes speaking, don't smash it right away. Pause slightly, build it up, then smash it hard—like a calm explosion. Understand?"

"Got it," Liu Tianxian said.

During this time, this man had been teaching her acting hand-in-hand, breaking everything down meticulously—truly attentive.

The crew replaced the glass on the table.

Filming resumed. Liu Tianxian followed Fang Hong's instructions—she paused slightly, staring intently at the best friend she'd once been close to.

When she glared, there was real menace in her eyes!

"Bang!!"

Liu Tianxian snatched the glass and smashed it violently to the floor—without warning.

A calm explosion was the most chilling kind.

This shot is fine, but we need that killing intent from Liu Tianxian.

At night, Fang Hong was organizing footage with Wang Ran; all daily shooting material had to be sorted for later editing.

His equipment wasn't complete enough for on-site editing, but he could at least number and organize it.

Wang Ran hurriedly said: "Principal, you work until three or four every night—how do you still have energy the next day?"

"Pushing through!" Fang Hong replied offhandedly.

"Seriously, Principal, I admire you. If it were me, I'd have cracked long ago," Wang Ran said.

"What can I do? I can't let the people who believe in me down!" Fang Hong said.

As the two were talking, a phone ringtone went "beep beep beep."

Fang Hong glanced at the number, signaled Wang Ran to be quiet, and answered: "What?"

"Are you busy? Come over," Liu Tianxian said on the phone.

Fang Hong assumed Liu Tianxian had something urgent, so he hung up, nodded to Wang Ran, put on his coat, and left.

Liu Tianxian had rented a room at a nearby five-star hotel—this room was her own, not provided by the production crew.

That way, commuting for filming is more convenient!

On the last drama, we were out in the suburbs; here, in the city center, it's much more convenient.

Fang Hong entered the hotel, arrived at Liu Tianxian's suite door, and knocked "knock knock knock."

The door opened. Liu Tianxian had her long hair loose, a hair clip on her head, wearing a silk robe, and shorts that reached just above her knees, revealing pale, slender legs.

This version of Liu Tianxian carried a touch of laziness, a touch of sweetness, a touch of allure, and a touch of wanting to think of Feifei.

"Come in," Liu Tianxian said, stepping aside at the doorway.

"Ah?!"

This was too direct—night, hotel, suite, dressed like this—happiness came too suddenly.

Fang Hong's mind wandered; he ventured cautiously: "Can a guy like me even come in?"

Please vote for me, thank you!!!

(End of Chapter)