“Older Sister Jiang!” Fortunately, Tong Jing Nian discovered her in the corner first.


Jiang Tiao turned around and slightly smiled, “Little Tong.” She looked over at the man next to her, “Mr.
Fu.”

Her greeting to him is, as always, awkward and formal, as if she had just met him for the first time and not his personal makeup artist.

The wind rustled the red maple leaves outside the pavilion.
Fu Ting Chuan gave a sound of acknowledgment.

The script in his right hand hung naturally by his side.

He is wearing an ancient costume, looking like a handsome scholar.

If he was really in the Tang Dynasty, with just a glance, all the young maidens in Chang’an will faint from excitement.

Fu Ting Chuan glanced at Jiang Tiao’s hands and saw that she still has the gloves on even though he is not present.

Really obedient.

He has a masculine ideology that prefers well-behaved women.
No trouble, no rebellion, and can do things herself.

Last year on a talk show, a female host pestered him about his ideal type.
In the end, he got so impatient that he spit out the word ‘obedient.’

After standing there in silence, Jiang Tiao said, “I’m gonna go.
You two need to rehearse right so I won’t bother you.”



“No.”

“Don’t go.
Just sit here and watch us rehearse.”

Xue Shao and Young Taiping spoke at the same time.

Jiang Tiao, “…” So are they going to rehearse or not?

Tong Jing Nian looks at Fu Ting Chuan, “Brother Fu, we don’t need to rehearse?”

“No,” Fu Ting Chuan walked to the side of the pavilion and sat down, “If we practice in advance, then the initial feeling and mood will be gone.”

“True.” Tong Jing Nian followed suit and found an empty seat to sit in.
Then she took out her phone and began to play with it.

Fu Ting Chuan looked at his makeup artist, “Jiang Tiao, you should sit too.” It would be rude to tell her to leave and let her continue standing.

So, the three people sat on each side of the pavilion and stared at each other.

Tong Jing Nian must be looking at Weibo.
The sound of refreshing the page is familiar in her heart.

“Ai, so annoying….” The girl muttered and complained, “Brother Fu, some of you fans have very bad attitudes.”


Jiang Tiao’s heart was shocked.
She suddenly had the urge to put them in their place.

“What?” Fu Ting Chuan asks.

“A lot of people came on my Weibo page and began to criticize me.
They’re calling me a pretty vase, bad at acting, and am not a good CP with you….” Tong Jing Nian rubbed her forehead, feeling helpless.

Fu Ting Chuan frowned, “What is CP?”

Jiang Tiao couldn’t help but laugh.
Three years of a generation gap.
It looks like he is not in the same generation as them.

“It’s character pairing, duo, couple.” Tong Jing Nian gave a professional answer.

Fu Ting Chuan replied, “Oh.” From what he has observed these past few days, Tong Jing Nian’s acting with the other female characters wasn’t great, but the romantic scenes are quite well.

He comforted the young lady, “Some of them are young girls.
They are young and act without thinking.
If you are a pretty vase then I am an old porcelain.”

When she heard Fu Ting Chuan talk about his young fans, Jiang Tiao suddenly became a little embarrassed.
When she was twenty, as a fan, she would follow the trend and curse at the actresses acting alongside Fu Ting Chuan.
Later as she got older, her mind matured and her hobby of criticizing others also diminished.

Only today does she dare to say that she is a rational fan.

When she heard his words of comfort, Tong Jing Nian laughed, “Brother Fu, I am also your fan but I don’t follow blindly.”

“Really?” Fu Tong Chuan raised an eyebrow, “Then there are two fans in this pavilion.”



“Oh, Sister Jiang is also your fan?” Tong Jing Nian asked.

Jiang Tiao was still immersed in her process of chasing after her idol through the years.
When she heard someone mention her, she snapped out of her thoughts, “Hm?”

Tong Jing Nian grinned and smiled sweetly, “Brother Fu said that you are his fan.
Is that true?”

Jiang Tiao glanced at Fu Ting Chuan and saw him looking at her expressionlessly.

She truthfully replied, “Yes, I like all of the projects he is in.”

The two fans quickly formed a discussion.
Tong Jing Nian suddenly asked, “What is your favorite work? Mine is ‘Warring States.’ Those battle tactics are very fascinating to watch.
It is better than those palace intrigue plots.
I have rewatched it five times!”

“Warring States” is the classic costume film that Fu Ting Chuan acted in when he was thirty.
In the film, he played Guan Zhong who has a love-hate relationship with Duke Huan of Qi.
In the end, he assisted this young monarch in becoming the most powerful in the Central Plains.

Jiang Tiao thought about it.
When someone mentions Fu Ting Chuan, everyone would associate him with the “Period Costume Great God.” She would say that her favorite is a modern film to show her deep devotion and her wide spectrum of films.

Therefore, she said, “It would be ‘Hai Zi’.”

Fu Ting Chuan softly smile, “That earned the lowest in the box office.”

Jiang Tiao felt guilty but stubbornly persisted, “…..But I still like it.”


She knows that it earned the lowest at the box office.

However, you must have liked the script as well or why else would you pick it up?

She whispered in her heart.

Jiang Tiao really liked “Hai Zi,” even if it is a literary film and the audience is small.
Fu Ting Chuan’s version of the poet Hai Zi completely showed the hero’s spirit of “emotion is blood.” His performance in the movie is like being soaked in blood, fired up, crazy, spiritual, warm, and slightly tragic.

Therefore, at the end of the movie, in the deep twilight, through the far stretch of the mountain, Hai Zi slowly laid down on the railroad tracks, the pampas grass swinging freely in the wind.

T/N: Info on Hai Zi.

A sensitive and pitiful poet.
He is going to another ideal country.
The next morning when he wakes up, he will become a happy person, feeding horses, chopping wood, and facing the sea.
Spring will blossom and he will be filled with love and hope.

She still remembers that scene before the ending credits rolled in.

White words over a black screen.
Hai Zi’s last words.
In the background is the sound of a huge roar of a train, long and unceasing.

“I am a professor at the Department of Philosophy at China University of Political Science and Law.
I am Zha Hai Sheng.

My death has nothing to do with anyone.”

 

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