Chapter Twenty-Three: The Guest Role

“Not bad, kid.” Zhang Kai praised Wen when he saw Bai Chenxi take out the heart-shaped box—this was a job well done.

At some point, Zhang Kai, Lan Tian, and Wen had gathered together.

“Wow, a spot check! You see that? I didn’t expect Chu Muyun to be so henpecked,” someone exclaimed as they watched Chu Muyun hand his phone to Bai Chenxi, assuming Bai Chenxi was “checking up” on him.

While these three reveled in gossip, someone else was gnashing their teeth in disappointment. The director looked at Lan Tian, not only failing to step forward, but even joining in the gossip with the others. The director’s heart was in pieces—what could he do if the main player wasn’t putting in the effort?

Ah, who could understand the pain of shipping the wrong couple?

“Director, who’d have thought! First, there was a rumor about our lead actors, and now Chu Muyun’s making a cameo. Looks like our drama is going to be a hit,” the assistant director said, eyes squinting with laughter.

The director instantly scolded him, “Hit? The audience isn’t stupid. If the drama isn’t good, who’s going to buy it? Instead of wasting time, focus on filming.”

“Yes, yes!” The assistant director nodded repeatedly, silently wondering what had gotten into the director lately—his temper had become so short. I’d better keep my distance.

Just as the assistant director was about to leave, he was called back. “Give Chu Muyun’s script to his agent; his agent wants to look it over first.”

“Got it!” he answered, but couldn’t help feeling uneasy. “Director, is that script of yours really appropriate?”

“What’s inappropriate about it? The audience wants to see them face off, but we already have a male lead. More ambiguous scenes wouldn’t be right. This works perfectly,” the director said, waving him off to deliver the script—after all, he’d stayed up all night writing it.

After Bai Chenxi and Chu Muyun added each other on WeChat, an awkward silence settled between them. What made it worse were the curious glances from all around, making the two feel even more uncomfortable.

Bai Chenxi kept flipping through the script in her hands while Chu Muyun stared at his phone. How much either absorbed was anyone’s guess.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Zhang Kai said, approaching with a script in hand, his smile full of mischief.

“Not at all—not at all!” Bai Chenxi was more than grateful for the interruption. She stood up, hoping to escape this awkward place.

But Zhang Kai pressed her back down. “No need; just sit. I’ll only say a few words. I’ll be quick.” He even shot her a reassuring look.

“Muyun, here’s the script. Take a look—if there’s no issue, we’ll film as written.” Chu Muyun took the script, but had a feeling Zhang Kai’s smile was up to no good.

“Script? What script?” Bai Chenxi blurted out her question before she realized it.

“Obviously, the cameo script for your drama. What, Muyun didn’t tell you?” As Chu Muyun was still reading, Zhang Kai kindly explained.

Bai Chenxi shook her head—how would she know?

“My, so you kept it a secret! Did I ruin your surprise?” Zhang Kai said, though there wasn’t the slightest hint of apology on his face.

Chu Muyun didn’t bother with him; what gave him a headache was the script.

His part was the female lead’s older brother—not a problem in itself, but the brother was a doting, overprotective type. In this scene, the brother catches his sister with her boyfriend.

He was to play Bai Chenxi’s brother, and a doting one at that. He didn’t have the acting chops for this—he’d probably break character in no time.

“Zhang Kai, do you really think this script is fine?” Chu Muyun gave him a sidelong glance—wasn’t he just waiting to watch him make a fool of himself?

“I think it’s great. Push yourself and try something new!” Zhang Kai was clearly here for the drama.

“Why don’t you try something new yourself?”

“What’s wrong, is the script too difficult?” Bai Chenxi thought, since he mainly sang, he probably didn’t know much about acting.

She lowered her voice and whispered, “Don’t worry—if you think the script is too hard, just tell the director. Cameo scripts are usually very flexible.”

Chu Muyun didn’t respond, so she assumed he was too embarrassed to say anything. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. The director probably gave you a tough scene just for the publicity. The fact that you agreed to the cameo is already a big deal—he’ll change it if you ask.”

Zhang Kai looked at Chu Muyun. “Your girlfriend is pretty interesting!”

Bai Chenxi was about to explain, but Chu Muyun spoke first. “Kai, the script’s fine by me.”

“OK, then… I’ll leave you two alone. Goodbye!” He even waved at Bai Chenxi before leaving, and she instinctively waved back.

Once Zhang Kai left, Bai Chenxi couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Chu Muyun.

Chu Muyun put down the script and called her name. “Since just now, you’ve looked at me at least seven or eight times. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me.” Though he said it in jest, there was an undeniable trace of flirtation in his tone.

“Brother Chu, can you not be so narcissistic?” Usually he acted so serious, but when he got conceited, no one could top him.

“So why do you keep looking at me?” Chu Muyun watched her, as if daring her to explain.

Bai Chenxi hesitated. “It’s just… your agent called me your girlfriend earlier. What’s that about?” Her voice grew softer toward the end.

When Chu Muyun heard this, he covered his mouth and coughed awkwardly. “Last time, when I was sick and you were at my place, my assistant saw and misunderstood.”

Bai Chenxi grew anxious. “Then why didn’t you explain?”

Seeing how eager Bai Chenxi was to clear things up made Chu Muyun inexplicably uncomfortable. Instead of clarifying, he asked, “Did you explain everything to Lan Tian?”

At this, Bai Chenxi’s shoulders slumped. “I tried for ages but it was no use. I was hoping you’d help explain to him.”

“Same here.”

At that, Bai Chenxi looked at Chu Muyun, feeling a sense of shared misery. She reached out and patted his shoulder. “See? It’s the same for both of us. Not easy, huh! Why do they just…”

As she spoke, she noticed Chu Muyun staring at her… or rather, her hand. Only then did she realize she was still resting her hand on his shoulder and hurriedly withdrew it.

She was about to say something when Chu Muyun spoke first.

“You’re so anxious to explain—do you have a boyfriend and you’re afraid he’ll misunderstand?” There was a hint of nervousness in Chu Muyun’s voice, so faint even he didn’t notice.

“Of course not.” Her answer made Chu Muyun unconsciously let out a breath of relief.

“I know you don’t like being caught up in rumors. Even though I didn’t do it on purpose, I still dragged you into this.”

“It’s nothing between friends. After a while, they’ll understand.”

Bai Chenxi seemed genuinely surprised. “This is the first time I’ve realized you’re not so bad after all. You can be reasonable, too.”

The words slipped out before she could help herself.

“Am I really that unlikeable?” Chu Muyun’s expression darkened.

Bai Chenxi mentally kicked herself. She unscrewed a bottle of water and handed it to Chu Muyun in a gesture of goodwill. “Brother Chu, have some water.”

Chu Muyun said nothing. He took the bottle, drank, and set it down.

Bai Chenxi breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing Chu Muyun reading the script, she quickly sidled closer. “Brother Chu, if there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask me.”

Chu Muyun glanced at her, then looked back at the script, his body shifting away as if he could turn his back entirely.

Bai Chenxi thought to herself: What do you do when the cat at home gets all aloof and ignores you? Asking for advice, urgent!