Chapter 24: Chance Encounter

Wu Yuchen responded without much reaction; he had come hoping Jiang Qin had calmed down after several days, and today he intended to meet her and clear the air about what had happened.

He hadn’t expected the girl to be so stubborn—well, he’d wait a bit longer, and deal with it after finishing the production.

“Thanks, Qiaoqiao Senior Sister, it was just a minor technical issue, nothing serious.”

Wu Yuchen smiled in reply; since Jiang Qin hadn’t told anyone, he certainly wouldn’t mention it to outsiders.

“Could you please tell Qin Qin for me—once she’s calmed down and in better spirits, I’ll come back to apologize in person. Senior Sister, goodbye!”

With that, Wu Yuchen turned and walked away with effortless grace.

“Hey, what’s all this cryptic nonsense?” Yin Qiaoqiao, left without an answer, pouted and stomped her foot in annoyance, then turned back toward the dorm.

Back in the dorm, Yin Qiaoqiao told Jiang Qin:

“I sent him away. I left a message saying he’ll come back when you’re in a better mood.”

Jiang Qin immediately bristled at those words:

“When I’m in a better mood? After what he did, he expects me to be in a better mood?”

She sprang up from the bed, her previously cold, composed face flushed red:

“I’ve never met such an arrogant person! Who does he think he is?!”

Her outburst startled Chen Shasha and Yin Qiaoqiao—they’d lived together over a year and had never seen Jiang Qin so worked up.

Chen Shasha cautiously moved closer, patting Jiang Qin’s heaving shoulder, and asked tentatively:

“Qin Qin, are you okay?”

Jiang Qin realized her reaction had been excessive, but the memory of the humiliation she’d suffered at Wu Yuchen’s hands made her chest tighten—she simply found him unbearable!

Wait until I’m in a better mood? Dream on!

…

Youth Film Studio.

“Done washing?”

The old master nodded with a smile. “All cleaned up. Take it straight to editing.”

“Thank you so much, Uncle Li!”

Wu Yuchen hurried to thank him; it was only Thursday, so he could finish editing the short film in the next two days, and by the weekend he could take it to someone for music and sound effects—fast enough, perhaps even next week, “Car 44” could be done.

Some might think having the original version from his past life would make editing easiest. But there were still differences—the actors were different, and their performances didn’t match exactly.

The original version wasn’t perfect either; honestly, Wu Yuchen thought Jiang Qin’s solo performance surpassed Gong Beibi’s, and Sun Honglei’s bandit was also spot-on.

Still, knowing the original greatly helped his editing—he just needed to pick out the shots from the footage that satisfied him most.

He wasn’t alone in editing; Old Jia, Wu Fat, Chen Er, and others who were interested had all come—after all, it was also a learning opportunity—but as director, Wu Yuchen held final authority.

On Friday night, everyone waited with eager anticipation, barely able to contain themselves.

Although editing was complete, they still couldn’t see the final result; they had to transfer the film to videotape before they could view the edited movie in full.

When the transferred videotape was handed to Wu Yuchen, everyone immediately rushed to find a VCR and started playing it.

Ten minutes later, as the screen went dark, Jia Zhangke’s face flushed red.

Though it hadn’t yet been mixed, scored, or had sound effects added, even this “rough version” had already made the group’s blood race!

“Is this really our movie? Wu Dao, you’re incredible!” Jia Zhangke excitedly hugged Wu Yuchen, using the formal title from the set.

“Cool! So cool!” Wu Fat clapped his thighs beside him.

When their excitement subsided slightly, Wu Yuchen smiled and said:

“Don’t get carried away—we’re not done yet. This weekend, we divide the work: I’ll find the right music, you handle subtitles and sound effects. Let’s finish post-production this week!”

“No problem, leave it to us!”

“I just can’t wait to see the full version of ‘Car 44’ finally released!”

…

The next day, Saturday, in Beisantiao Hutong, DC District, Wu Yuchen walked with Qi Jing, the clanging bell of a vintage bicycle and vendors hawking breakfast weaving through the air.

Today Wu Yuchen had come with Qi Jing to find music; she studied audio recording and worked with sound, so her circle included many musicians.

“We’re almost there. Wu Yuchen, don’t worry—I’ve connected you with someone who graduated from Zhongyangyinyuexue Academy, plays both electronic and traditional instruments, and now does rock—definitely powerful!”

Qi Jing walked ahead, introducing him as she went.

The hutong wasn’t long; soon they stopped before a dilapidated sihe Academy gate, a public toilet a few meters away, the faint odor of waste lingering in the air.

Many hutongs in Jingcheng used shared toilets—one per alley, none inside courtyards; Wu Yuchen was long used to it.

The door was worn, bricks and plaster exposed on both walls. Inside, the small courtyard held a few potted plants—all dead. Wu Yuchen paid no mind, following Qi Jing inside as she called out: “Peng Ge!”

The room door swung open, and a man in a black woolen beanie poked his head out: “Xiao Jing, you’re here.”

He glanced at Wu Yuchen and grinned, instantly familiar: “Bro, you’re handsome!”

Qi Jing introduced: “This is our director, Wu Yuchen. This is Dou Peng—he’s the one for music!”

Qi Jing gave a thumbs-up.

Wu Yuchen smiled and greeted: “Peng Ge, thanks for helping with the score today.”

“Haha, no trouble. I’ve composed for others before, but this is my first film score—let’s learn from each other, give each other feedback.” Dou Peng smiled, easygoing.

He ushered Wu Yuchen and Qi Jing inside.

Wu Yuchen sat down, pulled out the videotape, and handed it to Dou Peng: “Peng Ge, I want to convey absurdity and satire—so the background music needs a sinister edge.”

Dou Peng nodded and placed the tape into the player: “Alright, let me watch the film first.”

When hiring someone to score a film, you usually let them watch it first and specify where you need music, so they can create something satisfying.

As Dou Peng turned on the TV, a rough, hoarse voice came from the doorway:

“Ugh, why’s it suddenly so cold outside?”

Dou Peng didn’t turn around: “I told you the weather changed—wear a coat when you go to the toilet. You didn’t listen.”

Wu Yuchen turned to look: at the door stood a woman in a thin shirt and shorts, hair messy as if just woken, small and delicate in frame, with a fresh, clever charm, arms wrapped around herself shivering.

Wu Yuchen’s eyes widened—Xun Ge?!