The Lines? Recite Them

The prep period was tentatively set at two weeks, and the first week had already slipped by without anyone noticing. The actors, who hadn’t known each other all that well at first, were now getting along like old friends.

Ke Wei liked seeing a harmonious crew, and after each table read she often kept everyone behind to play a few games together.

As they grew more familiar, the games got a lot more fun too. What had started as cautious probing turned into playful trash talk and sabotage.

That night, Xi Zhen was also “dragged” into the games by Bai Mo. Calling it dragged was a bit much, though; Bai Mo had only run over and said, “Sis, come on,” and she had already put down her phone and sat over.

Li Xingqing noticed where she sat; not too close, not too far, just diagonally across from her.

The King’s Game soon began. Xi Zhen looked at the number three card in her hand and quietly pressed it onto the table. Her fingertips tapped the card twice, lightly; her expression was faint, giving away nothing.

Bai Mo had been unlucky for a long time, and this time he drew the King card on the first try. He jumped up from his chair, thrilled.

He looked back and forth over the people around the long table, scanning from left to right and then from right to left, before finally grinning and stating his demand.

“Number Three has to ask Number Seven one truth-or-dare question, and you have to answer honestly.” Bai Mo looked around. “Who’s Number Three?”

Xi Zhen, sitting nearby, flipped her card over. “Number Three.”

“So it’s Zhen-jie,” Bai Mo said, his voice rising half an octave before he hurriedly lowered it again. His eyes were bright. “And who’s Number Seven?” He looked around the table, saw no one move, and asked again, “Number Seven, Number Seven, are you there? Number Seven?”

“It’s me.” Li Xingqing had been spacing out just now, and by the time she came back to herself, she realized she was the “missing” Number Seven. She turned over her card, glanced at it, then flipped it back, the tips of her fingers a little hot.

“Alright, then Zhen-jie should ask Xingqing-laoshi a question.” Bai Mo put heavy emphasis on the words “one question,” then added, “Sis, ask something explosive; don’t make it one of those ‘what do you like to eat’ questions.” As he said it, he even winked at Xi Zhen.

“An explosive question?” Xi Zhen repeated, her tone lifting slightly at the end, as if she were seriously considering what that meant. She lifted the cup of water in front of her, took a sip, then set it down and raised her eyes to meet Li Xingqing’s.

“Yeah, Sis is really good at asking questions, right? Ask properly!” Bai Mo fanned the flames from the side, his voice full of the kind of excitement that came from enjoying the spectacle at someone else’s expense.

“That’s too much; Xingqing-laoshi won’t refuse to answer, will she?” Xi Zhen still hadn’t looked away. She was speaking to Bai Mo, but her eyes stayed on Li Xingqing.

Li Xingqing felt a little uneasy under her gaze, but she still straightened her back and immediately raised a hand to show she could handle it. “I’m fine.”

“Alright, then my question is—” Xi Zhen deliberately drew out the last syllable. “Can Xingqing-laoshi talk about your past relationships? And if you don’t have any, then what’s your ideal type?”

Everyone here was an adult, and all of them were young; when it came to emotional matters, gossip was always irresistible.

The table fell quiet for a moment, then several pairs of eyes snapped toward Li Xingqing all at once, carrying that restrained, embarrassed, but impossible-to-resist curiosity.

Bai Mo was very satisfied with the question. He nodded repeatedly as he listened, almost banging his chin against the tabletop, then looked at Li Xingqing with an eager expression.

“I... don’t have any past relationships.” Li Xingqing spoke stiffly.

“Xingqing-laoshi is so beautiful, and you’ve never had a boyfriend?” Xi Zhen added lightly, as if she were making small talk.

“No.” Li Xingqing answered even faster than before.

“Then... a girlfriend?” Hearing Li Xingqing’s answer, Xi Zhen immediately changed the question. This time, her gaze was clearly probing, fixed straight on Li Xingqing.

“No... n-no.” Li Xingqing’s ears began to turn red, the color spreading up from her earlobes.

“Oh? Then Xingqing-laoshi can tell us your ideal type.”

“You’ve already asked several questions,” Li Xingqing protested in a small voice.

“But this is because Xingqing-laoshi doesn’t have any romantic experience,” Xi Zhen said, as if it were only natural, making herself sound like the one being innocently forced into this.

“Fine. My ideal type...” Li Xingqing paused, then said, “Love doesn’t have an ideal type. I just need to love her and for her to love me.”

“Is that considered dodging the question?” Xi Zhen tilted her head, amusement in her voice.

“No, no,” Bai Mo hurriedly interjected from the side, smoothing things over as he moved on to the next round of card drawing. “Sis, you’ve asked several already. Xingqing-laoshi is just too nice to argue with you.” While shuffling the cards, he muttered under his breath, moving so fast it seemed like he was afraid someone would change their mind.

In the next round, the King card ended up in Zheng Yuyu’s hand.

He didn’t react nearly as dramatically as Bai Mo. He casually chose two numbers and reused Bai Mo’s question from before.

By pure coincidence, the turn now fell to Li Xingqing asking Xi Zhen.

When everyone saw that the two revealed cards were once again Li Xingqing and Xi Zhen, Bai Mo let out a surprised sound.

“You two... are really fated.” He blinked, then added, “But Xingqing-laoshi, your chance for revenge has come.” He looked between them with keen interest, clearly anticipating how Li Xingqing would “strike back.”

Seeing this, Xi Zhen immediately raised both hands in surrender.

Li Xingqing looked at Xi Zhen and suddenly felt her throat go dry. She cleared it, and when she spoke, her voice was steadier than before. “Xi Zhen... jie, do you like people older than you, or younger?”

“Mm... younger, I guess.” A look of interest appeared on Xi Zhen’s face. Today she was wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans; the loose, comfortable clothes only made her relaxed figure seem even more unrestrained.

Xi Zhen leaned back slightly in her chair and looked at Li Xingqing again. She added casually, “Younger people have simpler thoughts; they’re like a blank sheet of paper... Being with them, watching them grow because of you, isn’t that interesting?”

As she spoke, she lowered her head and smiled first.

It had clearly been Li Xingqing asking someone else a question, yet now it felt more like she was the one being interrogated. Under Xi Zhen’s scorching gaze, Li Xingqing even felt her own face heating up, the burn spreading from her cheeks all the way to the roots of her ears.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but she didn’t know what to say. In the end, she only stood up; the chair legs scraped a short, sharp sound against the floor. She said, “I’m going to the restroom,” and left first.

Once she was out of the conference room, Xi Zhen’s voice was still ringing in Li Xingqing’s head. Likes younger people? What did Xi Zhen mean by that?

She leaned against the hallway wall and closed her eyes, then opened them again. The corridor lights were sound-activated; if she didn’t move, the light dimmed, leaving only the green emergency exit sign at the far end glowing faintly.

She felt like everything in her was a mess now; her thoughts were a mess, and so was her heart.

Li Xingqing quickly went to the vending machine nearby and bought a cold drink. The metal can was icy against her palm, making her shiver. She pulled the tab open and took a gulp; the liquid slid down her throat, cold all the way to her stomach. Leaning against the vending machine, she took another drink and forced that hard-to-describe restlessness downward, until her breathing finally steadied a little.

Maybe Xi Zhen had just been answering the question. If she took it so seriously, didn’t that just make her look strange?

Who doesn’t like younger people? She... she could like them too.

Li Xingqing gripped the can of iced water so hard that her fingertips went red from the cold, but she still didn’t let go. The can had been squeezed out of shape in her hand, making a faint creaking sound.

By the time she finally felt the hotel air-conditioning was working normally again, Li Xingqing returned to the conference room. As she pushed the door open, she subconsciously glanced toward Xi Zhen’s direction. Xi Zhen was looking down at her phone; the glow from the screen lit her face, outlining her eyelashes in a soft, fuzzy rim of light.

The King’s Game continued, and now they were playing even bigger.

This time, the one chosen was Bai Mo, and his demand was that he had to recite, to someone else, a line they had read that morning.

That line was strange and embarrassing. When Bai Mo read the script, he’d already thought something was off and figured it was some little trick from the writer. But that morning, when director Ke Wei heard it, she also felt it was a little too jarring, so she marked it down and asked Li Xingqing to revise it later.

Still, even if the script needed to be changed, using the original line as a punishment now was perfectly fair.

Everyone here was familiar with each other, and Bai Mo had completely thrown caution to the wind. The moment he opened his mouth, he blurted, “Chi Zengshen-gege, I want to buy a piece of land.”

“Hm? What kind of land?” Zheng Yuyu, who was playing along with him, took up the line.

“Y-your unwavering devotion. AHHHHHH, that’s so embarrassing, next, next.” Bai Mo couldn’t hold it in and covered his face in shame.

The whole table burst into laughter.

Li Xingqing laughed along too, but her gaze couldn’t help drifting toward Xi Zhen again. Xi Zhen was smiling too; her lips were curved, her eyes were curved, but somewhere along the way her gaze had moved off the phone screen and was now on Li Xingqing. The corners of her mouth still hadn’t fully relaxed.

Seeing that, Li Xingqing quickly looked away and lowered her head, pretending to study her own cards.

...

It was getting late, and Ke Wei called a stop, telling everyone to go back and rest first.

In an instant, the sound of chairs scraping, things being packed up, and people saying goodbye all mixed together into a lively din. Li Xingqing still had the task of revising the script, so she didn’t bother with anyone else and left with her bag on her back. She walked quickly, as if afraid someone might call her back.

After most of the people had gone, Xi Zhen slowly sat down beside Ke Wei.

“Tuesday, for the location scouting, I’ve already made an appointment with people from Prism’s side.”

“Out to that old arts district in the suburbs?” Ke Wei immediately grew interested. She really hadn’t expected Xi Zhen to actually get in touch with them. When she saw the script mentioning both Country A and Country B, her head had practically split open.

Later, she’d found a suitable location, but Prism had always had a reputation in the industry for being very cold and hard to contact. She’d asked several people to help, but none of them had been able to get through.

“Yes. A friend of mine knew someone over there and made the connection.” Xi Zhen’s tone was casual.

“That smoothly?” Ke Wei couldn’t help being surprised. “Don’t tell me, not only did you handle the investors these last two days, you handled this too.” Xi Zhen had been gone for less than three days in total, and she’d even made a trip to A City. Was she made of iron?

“That’s not your concern. Tuesday at three in the afternoon; don’t forget.”

“How could I forget?” Ke Wei was already pulling out her phone to check the calendar. “Do you have photos? Let me take a look first. I’ll bring lighting and camera with me then.”

“I sent the photos to your cloud drive. Take a look first.”

“Alright.” Ke Wei nodded, her fingers already flicking rapidly across the screen.

---

Li Xingqing returned to her room, switched on the light, and the white glare made her narrow her eyes for a second. She set her bag on the table and took out everything she needed one by one: the script, a pen, her phone... Then she opened the notebook she usually used to record things, and a piece of pink candy wrapper fell out.

—It was the wrapper from the candy Xi Zhen had handed her that night.

She didn’t know why she had kept it, but subconsciously, she’d wanted to.

Her fingertips brushed over the flattened creases, and Li Xingqing suddenly remembered what it had felt like this morning when Xi Zhen’s breath had brushed against her ear.

Moist, warm breath; it had landed by her ear as if Xi Zhen were whispering to someone closest to her.

This morning, Xi Zhen, who had disappeared for three days, had once again joined the script table read.

As usual, she sat in a small corner, silently observing the people in the room.

But unlike before, Xi Zhen had sat next to Li Xingqing today. Very close; close enough that if she reached out, she could touch her.

The table read had already been going on for several days, and they were no longer just reading lines.

The actors had already started working with the director to design blocking and movement so that actual filming would save time later.

Only then did Li Xingqing finally realize that this crew seemed to be rather short on money.

Actually, she’d had a sense of it before. If not for a funding problem, the crew probably wouldn’t have rushed to bring in an on-set writer who hadn’t even seen the script at all.

But because Ke Wei took the overall work so seriously and kept carefully selecting suitable actors throughout pre-production, striving for perfection, Li Xingqing had temporarily ignored the issue.

During the movement design, several actions in the script weren’t written clearly.

Li Xingqing could picture the posture in her head, but when she tried to describe it out loud, it always felt a little off. She tried explaining it twice, but Bai Mo and Zheng Yuyu both looked completely lost.

Li Xingqing sighed and had no choice but to step in and correct them directly.

But she was a girl, and the movements she needed to demonstrate all carried a bit of intimacy; every time she reached out and then pulled back, it felt inappropriate. Just as she was struggling with it, the usually taciturn Xi Zhen stepped forward and volunteered to be her model.

She stood up, walked over to Li Xingqing, and said, “I’ll do it,” her tone so flat it was like she was commenting that the weather was nice today.

Li Xingqing, who had her mind entirely on work, naturally didn’t think too much of it and quickly accepted the arrangement. After all, there really wasn’t anyone else nearby.

“Here, Chi Zengshen is holding Yu Qing around the waist from the side, something like this.” Li Xingqing reached out and slowly wrapped an arm around Xi Zhen’s waist. When her palm made contact, she could feel the warmth and softness of skin beneath the thin layer of clothing. Her fingers paused for a beat, then continued. This was work, she told herself.

“Then he rubs slowly here, and finally pulls him over with force.” Li Xingqing’s fingers tapped lightly at Xi Zhen’s waist before pressing gradually harder. “At this point, Yu Qing should be tense all over, then, because his waist is being held, he leans forward.”

She pointed at the spot on the floor and used the hand already resting on Xi Zhen’s waist to apply force.

Her fingers pressed lightly at Xi Zhen’s side, signaling her to lean forward. Xi Zhen obediently followed the instruction and fell forward, burying her head in the crook of Li Xingqing’s shoulder; her hair brushed against Li Xingqing’s neck.

The scent of brewed rice wine suddenly grew thick around them, and Li Xingqing paused before continuing. “Here, the hand Chi Zengshen had around the waist slowly moves upward, slides to the shoulder, and then he just bends down and lifts the person up.”

Li Xingqing did her job diligently and lifted Xi Zhen in one motion.

“After lifting the person up, you can start saying the lines.” Li Xingqing was like an emotionless demonstration machine, roughly repeating that somewhat ambiguous passage.

—“I think at this time, you should be thinking of me.”

Suddenly lifted off the ground and then hearing that line, Xi Zhen’s usually calm expression showed a trace of surprise. Because of the weightlessness, her arms tightened around Li Xingqing.

But she quickly adjusted her expression; once the movement demonstration was done, she leaned her head close to Li Xingqing’s ear.

“You’re very good at this.”

Warm breath touched Li Xingqing’s ear, making her entire body tremble.

Her hand loosened, and she set Xi Zhen back down steadily on the floor.

Author’s Note:

Li Xingqing: I got to hold someone!

Xi Zhen: A little strange? But pretty comfortable!