Chapter 23

"Ah ha."

Li Yuanba's decoy slammed down with a hammer strike from midair; the spear in Yan Li's hand, already severed in two, snapped cleanly, and the foam hammer smashed hard against his face, sending Yan Li sprawling onto the ground.

"Good, cut. Makeup."

The director called out, and the makeup artist on set immediately rushed over with a blood pack.

Yan Li picked one and shoved it into his mouth; the rest were torn open by the makeup artist and smeared across his head.

Moments later, a large patch of blood stained Yan Li's forehead; the makeup artist left, and Yan Li bit down on the blood pack, giving a thumbs-up gesture.

The camera zoomed in for a close-up: Yan Li lay back, falling with his half-spear tossed aside, spewing copious blood, his face twisted in agonizing pain, his body convulsing several times before his head lolled to one side, motionless.

"Good, cut."

As soon as the director called cut, Yan Li—who had just been mortally wounded and "killed"—sprang up nimbly, took tissues from the makeup artist, and frantically wiped the blood from his head and face.

With this scene finished, he had officially wrapped his role in "The Heroes of Sui and Tang"!

No flowers, no applause to see him off—a minor supporting actor doesn't have that kind of clout.

The idea of an actor-exclusive wrap party was out of the question; the production was focused entirely on cutting costs. Unless you were a top star, even the male and female leads didn't get this treatment—just a bouquet of flowers, a cake cut, and some photos would be more than enough.

So Yan Li's wrap was quiet: only a few familiar faces nodded and greeted him; everyone else was busy with their own tasks.

Yan Li didn't mind—he went to find the production manager and asked for a "shock-recovery red envelope" for filming a death scene.

It was a set rule, likely originating from Xiangjiang.

Actors portraying corpses, filming funeral portraits, or dying on-screen would usually ask the crew for a red envelope—small money, usually one or two yuan, purely for good luck.

Of course, this applied only to actors with roles—at least those with lines and close-ups; extras were left to the crew's discretion.

Yan Li himself had once played a corpse as an extra, but never received a red envelope.

So this was his first time receiving a 【Shock-Recovery Red Envelope】—and it felt meaningful. Yan Li planned to keep the envelope and the money as a memento.

After removing his makeup and changing clothes, Yan Li greeted his friends Wang Xiu, Wang Decai, Nie Yuan, Tong Lei, one by one; he also stopped by to say hello to the director and producer; finally, he went to Ma Dui and fed Sai Long a few carrots before leaving the set.

Back at the hotel, Yan Li packed his luggage and then left his room.

Though he'd had a farewell meal, he was leaving tomorrow, so he still needed to inform Qin Lan.

Yan Li arrived at Qin Lan's hotel, had just called her, when he saw Huang Xiaoming step out with a girl who looked like his assistant—his face immediately lit up, and he walked over to greet them.

"Bro, no scenes today?"

Seeing Yan Li, Huang Xiaoming was flooded with memories of that night—he felt worse than swallowing a dead fly.

But he was a smooth operator who avoided conflict, and Yan Li had always greeted him with a smile, so he forced a smile.

"Hmm, you here to pick up Qin Lan?"

Yan Li nodded sharply in confirmation, then began chitchatting: "Yeah, Qin Lan's got light shooting these days—I'm taking her out. By the way, I haven't been in Hengdian long—any good spots you'd recommend?"

"..."

Huang Xiaoming had zero interest in chatting, brushing him off: "I don't go out much."

"That's no good. As actors, we just sit in the hotel after shooting—it's bad for body and mind. You've got to get out and have fun; it's a great way to relax. I'll take Qin Lan out later—when I find something fun, I'll recommend it to you."

Huang Xiaoming's smile cracked: "... Thanks."

Yan Li kept beaming: "No problem."

When Qin Lan came downstairs, she saw Huang Xiaoming's back retreating even more hurriedly and flustered than that night—she was puzzled.

"What did you two talk about?"

"Nothing, just ran into him and chatted a bit."

Yan Li added: "This guy's got a good temper—I like him."

Qin Lan had seen exactly how Yan Li interacted with Huang Xiaoming—she didn't believe him for a second.

"I think you just like picking on him."

As they spoke, Qin Lan noticed Huang Xiaoming glancing back toward them—he'd turned around. She instantly buried her face into Yan Li's chest; Yan Li, practiced and smooth, wrapped his arms around her waist and returned her earlier jab.

"You didn't let him off either."

Qin Lan ignored him, resting her head on his chest: "Is he gone?"

Yan Li watched Huang Xiaoming turn and quicken his pace away, and with sincere tone, tightened his hold on Qin Lan.

"Not gone. He's still watching."

Qin Lan didn't believe it—she tried to sneak a peek, but Yan Li pressed his hand against the back of her head: "Don't move. He's still watching."

Seeing she still wanted to look, Yan Li leaned down and sealed his lips over hers, muffled: "Don't rush. He's leaving soon."

Qin Lan was caught off guard again, eyes wide, struggling slightly—then slowly, under Yan Li's lead, she sank into it, responding clumsily but eagerly.

Minutes later, Yan Li reluctantly pulled away, pretending to look up.

"Hmm. He's really gone now."

Qin Lan's cheeks flushed crimson. After being released, she took a few quick breaths, licked her slightly swollen lips, then punched Yan Li several times with her tiny fist.

"You're shameless. Can't you try a different trick?"

Yan Li looked genuinely wronged: "I was helping you! Is helping people a crime?"

Qin Lan, furious, reached to pinch him—but he caught her hand, gripping it tightly.

"Let's go. He might come back."

Without letting go of her hand, he pulled her along; Qin Lan made a token struggle, then let herself be led.

A little later, without a word, she subtly changed the hand-holding into interlocked fingers—five slender fingers clasping Yan Li's large hand, refusing to let go.

They didn't go to a restaurant. Yan Li bought food and drinks, and they ran off to the shady little grove where they'd first met for a picnic.

Yan Li leaned half-sitting against a tree, sipping a canned beer, listening to Qin Lan chatter on.

"You can't pretend not to know me when you get back to Jingcheng. You've got to call me at least every two days."

"Long-distance calls are expensive..."

Qin Lan furrowed her brows, gritting her teeth: "I'll top up your phone credit."

"That's not necessary."

Sensing the killing intent in Qin Lan's words, Yan Li dared not joke further—his phone couldn't send texts, and internet access was inconvenient; he could only make calls.

Qin Lan softened her tone: "If you don't mind the trouble, you could write letters."

At this stage, phone communication was expensive and primarily used as a contact tool; text messages and the internet had just emerged and were not yet widespread, so many people still exchanged letters to express their deepest feelings—"pen pals" were more common than "net friends."

"Fine."

Yan Li thought writing letters was good—not only did it save money, but it also helped him practice his handwriting, and more importantly, it worked well.

A letter filled line by line with careful strokes, brimming with warmth and care between the words, moved a person far more than a few minutes of phone call or fragmented text chats.

He had learned this trick from his ex-girlfriend!

The intelligence system showed that every time his ex-girlfriend reread the love letters he wrote during his pursuit, her anger would ease by thirty percent and her heart would soften by three-tenths.

Indeed, Qin Lan was also taken by this method; she no longer cared how often he called, and happily said she'd wait for his letters.

They chatted back and forth until the sun set, signaling that the time of Yan Li's departure from Hengdian was drawing near.

Qin Lan's lovely face betrayed her reluctance; she took Yan Li's large hand in hers, playing with it, and rested her head against his shoulder, speaking softly.

"When I'm done with my work, I'll come to Jingcheng to find you."

"Alright."

(End of Chapter)