Shrine - Chapter 47
Chapter 47
Ruan Ruan's face instantly flushed. "What are you talking about?" she said, sniffling softly as she lowered her head to prepare the vegetables.
Wu Mei looked at Ruan Ruan, who had woken up early just to cook noodles for Shi Ran, and corrected herself. "Then how about we're both her palace maids? You're the head maid, skilled in all the fine arts, and I'm just a servant girl for the menial tasks."
She teased Ruan Ruan with a line that sounded like it was from one of her rushed historical drama shoots: "I am not worthy to serve at her side. Please, just grant me leave to return home."
"Pfft." Ruan Ruan flicked some of the vegetable water at her.
"So, will you be able to find a place to stay?"
"Hey, I'm the one who found our last place, remember?" Wu Mei said cleverly. "I'll rent a room in an old apartment block in an alley back there. It's only a few streets away. When we have to work, I'll just ask the driver to pick me up on the way."
Ruan Ruan thought that would work. With her premiere just around the corner, it was inconvenient for her to move. Wu Mei knew this, which was why she had to leave Ruan Ruan here alone to face Shi Ran's icy demeanor.
She mulled it over. Shi Ran was a top-tier celebrity with tens of millions of followers, whose posts easily garnered over a million reposts. Every time Wu Mei faced Shi Ran, she felt like she was seeing a million-strong army waving banners and roaring behind her. If she were to accidentally offend Shi Ran, that iron cavalry of fans would tear her to shreds.
The thought made Wu Mei chuckle. She propped her elbow on the kitchen counter and turned with a smile, only to find herself looking right at Shi Ran.
Shi Ran had come to the fridge for a yogurt, her eyes still heavy with sleep. Before she could even say hello, her tall shadow fell over Wu Mei, as if asking what was so funny.
Wu Mei swallowed hard, feeling like she couldn't stay in this house for another minute.
After they ate, Wu Mei left, as if she had never been there at all.
Ruan Ruan was once again leaning against Shi Ran, watching cat videos. They sat facing each other and chatted. Ruan Ruan mentioned that while she was rehearsing, An Lu had booked her two promotions for some trendy fashion brands. In her experience, that kind of work only paid a few thousand to tens of thousands of yuan. She worried it wasn't a well-thought-out career plan, but she was too embarrassed to ask An Lu about it.
Shi Ran asked in return, "Do you normally search for yourself online?"
"Rarely." When she'd handed over her social media accounts to the new company for a background check, they had warned her to stay offline as much as possible and not let public opinion affect her state of mind.
Shi Ran nodded and explained, "There are two aspects to it. First, the connections behind the brand." This part was self-explanatory; a trendy brand that quickly gained public visibility either had an industry background or was backed by money and connections.
"Second, a mature management team rarely relies on a single-pronged plan. I'm guessing the brand promotion is just the first step. The publicity team will release promotional articles featuring your photos alongside those of several other actresses wearing the same outfits. The brand's target audience, as well as the fanbases of the other actresses, will most likely overlap heavily with your own fan demographic."
Right now, Ruan Ruan didn't have any significant work to her name, so the publicity team had to do everything they can to get her face out there. When a face appears in the public eye in various contexts, it's much more likely to be remembered.
"Impression, recognition, affection, understanding. You're at the first step," Shi Ran said.
Ruan Ruan found it strange that "understanding" came after "affection," but she didn't ask.
Cupping her face in her hands, she sat on the carpet across from the coffee table, still thinking how wonderful Shi Ran's voice sounded, especially when she was so generously sharing her knowledge.
"Shi Ran, have you ever acted in a play?" she asked softly.
"No."
"However, taking the opportunity of you being in this play, I imagine Dianxing has already gotten in touch with Tao Jin to discuss the possibility of developing IP-tie-in stage productions in the future."
Ruan Ruan opened her mouth, then pressed it shut. She suddenly realized that with every step Shi Ran took to pave the way for her, she was also—just as she'd said—quietly expanding her own business empire. The thought thrilled her; it felt like she was conquering new territory alongside Shi Ran.
They looked at each other in silence, high above the bustling Bund of Jiangcheng. Shi Ran, sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed, lowered her head slightly and gave her a faint smile. Ruan Ruan, still cupping her face, returned a soft, warm smile. Their eyes met, and at that moment, words felt entirely superfluous.
The following Saturday, the stage adaptation of Dream of the Red Chamber premiered in Jiangcheng.
There were seemingly endless rows of congratulatory flower baskets. Audience members flowed into the theater like a river. The stage curtain, made of red velvet, parted to reveal seats of the same hue. Tickets for this play had been impossible to come by in Jiangcheng, and the audience was filled with anticipation. As people found their seats, the only sound was the rustle of clothing; there was no loud chatter, not even much whispering.
Lights and shadows intertwined as cries of sorrow arose. Petals filled the air, and a myriad of beauties wept as one.
The play opened with the sorrowful cry of a young woman. Amidst the splendor of golden halls and jade horses, a faint background sound could be heard, like intermittent sobbing.
The theater was packed, without a single empty seat—save for two in the very center of the front row. A cold light shone on the dark red chairs, making them look like lonely props.
At the end of the first act, during the scene change, a figure in a hat and mask was led in, stooping low to fill one of the empty seats. Xiao Lin sat down next to her. Shi Ran, holding her coat, fixed her eyes on the stage and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, making no sound at all.
Xiangling made her entrance in the fourth act. Her braid was woven from real hair, and her heavy, colorful makeup was washed out by the stage lights, leaving her skin looking like a translucent lychee. Her posture was graceful as she flicked her water sleeves, her shapely eyebrows arched. Holding a scroll of poetry, she looked utterly entranced.
Her bright eyes, with the signature red mole between them, were bathed in the spotlight, bathed in the verses of poetry, and bathed in the splendor of a girl in full bloom.
Tonight, she had become Xiangling, performing in a temple of the arts where tickets were impossible to come by, acting opposite giants and titans of the industry.
The actress playing opposite her was the very image of Daiyu, her every frown and smile imbued with an elegant spirit.
When the play concluded, the theater erupted in thunderous applause. The entire cast stood center stage for the curtain call. Xiangling stood charmingly to one side, her breathing quick and shallow, unable to conceal her excitement.
This performance was a special one, as several officials were in attendance. After the curtain call, the director led a few of the main actors to the front row to shake their hands. Once the handshakes were done, fans rushed forward with flowers, and the actors were instantly mobbed. To ensure their safety, staff members began ushering them toward the exit on the right. Amidst the sea of people, Ruan Ruan, clutching an enormous bouquet of flowers, struggled to turn back and find Shi Ran.
It looked like a few audience members were already raising their phones to take her picture. Shi Ran stood up, keeping her head down, and hurried toward the exit, flanked by Xiao Lin and other staff.
One was heading left, the other right, with a surging crowd between them.
Just as Ruan Ruan was about to look away, she saw Shi Ran turn and glance over at her. Ruan Ruan smiled. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before they each continued toward their separate exits.
Shi Ran's glance was strikingly similar to the one she'd given on the day of her audition. She had passed by Ruan Ruan and silently mouthed: I'm off.
And now, the meaning was much the same. She was saying: Let's go home.
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