When Nanchu returned to the office after smoking, it had been determined that it was a cosmetic allergy, and Yan Dai was raising her hand and poking Xigu with her finger, shouting in a shrill voice, "You have to compensate! I can't start work these days, what if the director gets lost wages from me?!"
Although Shen Guangzong does not like Yan Dai, the face is still immobile, smiled and rounded off the scene: "Dai, we are a company, so ugly this is not to make people look at the joke?"
Yan Dai stomped her foot and pouted, "Zong! But I have this face ......"
Halfway through the sentence, the remaining light glimpsed Nanchu coming in, the latter idly leaning on the door frame to see her, her throat choked and twitched, the latter half of the sentence froze and swallowed back.
Inexplicably, Yan Dai was a little afraid of Nanchu, and a little jealous of her, a complex emotion that even she herself couldn't explain.
Nanchu only entered the company at the beginning of the year, one year later than her. Both are eighteen lines of small artists, but Nanchu has a movie queen mother, although the circle said that they have a bad relationship between mother and daughter, but it is better than those who do not have them.
Nanchu was six years old and followed her mother, Nan Yueru, to shoot advertisements and planes, making her debut as a child star. When sixteen or seventeen years old took over a few movies, popularity. The group of actresses will occasionally discuss Nanchu gossip, Yan Dai cynicism Nanchu more time, can not help but bet a moment mouth fast.
But every time he saw Nanchu walk past him with a look of unconcerned breeziness, his heart was angry and anxious, as a woman, how could she be so unconcerned about her reputation.
Sure enough, it's just like her mom.
And slutty and wannabe.
Nan Yue Ru's reputation is actually not that bad, except that at the age of twenty-six she took a one-year break from her career and gave birth to Nan Chu, and so far she has not announced who Nan Chu's father is.
Back then, the weekly entertainment gossip magazines ran through all the male celebrities in the circle who were suspected to be Nanchu's biological father, and as a result, within a couple of years, they either announced that they had come out of the closet or got married and had children.
To this day, it's, well, one of the top 10 unsolved mysteries in the entertainment industry.
......
Nanchu leaned against the door and swept a very faint glance at Yan Dai.
Yan Dai was abashed and said reluctantly with a pouty face, "You guys talk to the director, but I'm not going."
Nanchu guffawed, "Good."
Back in the group, Nanchu helped Yan Dai to ask for a leave of absence, postponing all her scenes to three days later, and the director muttered with some dissatisfaction, "She's the one with the most things to do."
In a couple of days, the words reached Yan Dai's ears again, and after passing through more mouths, they changed flavor, and somehow became--
Yan Dai's face allergies, unable to shoot the scene, delaying the progress, the director in a rage deleted Yan Dai's scenes, to Nanchu additional scenes, but also insulted Yan Dai is a matter of spirit.
Moreover, I heard that it was Assistant Nanchu who did this.
The mature, steady director in the eyes of the crowd must have been blinded by this little goblin, Nanchu, to say those words in a fit of anger.
After all, it is also a female artist who dares to openly discuss the yellow book with the director, and what shameless things can not be done!
As a result, Namchu became a target heartthrob.
Hearing about this, Shen Guangzong gas fried hair, hair a root up, almost did not strangle Xigu, Nanchu a fishing over the little girl, calmly flipping through the book, "really to get dead, luggage you carry ah."
Although Xigu was small, he was very strong, carrying several suitcases by himself without taking a breath.
Shen Guangzong loosened Xigu's collar and made a silent neck-wiping motion.
Xigu was busy covering his eyes.
Nanchu stroked her head and warned out, "Shen Jingbing--"
"You're defending her, you keep defending her it's time to pass you gay in a few days!"
Shen Guangzong walks away in anger.
Xigu looked at Nanchu and found that she continued to look down and flip through the book again.
She couldn't help but move over, "What are you looking at?"
Nanchu put the book up on her lap and showed her the cover.
"Kim Kim Kim Kim ...... Bottles of Plum."
"Uh-huh."
Xigu looked at her, a quiet face, calm and relaxed, as if there was a glimpse of a barrier to isolate the world, why the forbidden book was seen by her Xu Zhimo flavor.
On the fourth day, Ran Dongyang, the second male lead who won Best Supporting Actor last year and Yan Dai's rumored boyfriend, enters the group, and the cast finally arrives.
When Yan Dai finished shooting the last night scene and walked out of the studio, she saw two backs sitting side by side under the tent.
Ran Dongyang leaned back in his chair, "How have you been lately?"
Nanchu lowered her head to read the script and faintly said, "Pretty good, eat and sleep well."
The two worked together on a movie a few years ago.
Ran Dongyang leaned forward, reached out to fish for Nanchu's head, was immobilized and dodged by her, her hand froze in mid-air, awkwardly smiling, "What's wrong with you? Like a different person."
Nanchu didn't lift her head, sneering and hooking her lips.
Ran Dongyang dragged his chair and leaned towards her, "You weren't talkative back then, but at least the people were soft, what, after a few years of not seeing each other, the little rose has grown thorns?"
Nanchu ignored him, slapped the script on the table, took a pen and circled a paragraph, and said in a nonchalant manner, "I'll come back and pull you after you leave this paragraph, so the emotions can be a little more outgoing."
Ran Dongyang took his hand and cushioned his head, reclining and leaning back in his chair, "You, this person, is just too bad-tempered, not at all appealing to people."
Nanchu looked up and glanced at him coldly.
The afterglow caught a glimpse of a sneaky figure hiding under an old acacia tree a few meters away.
Ran Dongyang collected his smile, sat up straight, and supported his hand on the table, "Don't you look at me like that, back then ......"
Nanchu suddenly smiled at him and hooked her hand, her fingers slim and jade-like.
The summer night is dark and heavy, the studio is gradually closing, the pale white moonlight hits down, Nanchu's skin is translucent white, and the whole person seems to be glowing.
Ran Dongyang was in a complicated and difficult mood.
And yet, he ghosted over to it.
Who would have thought that the next second, "Boom--" a loud bang, the back of the head was controlled by someone, and the brain was slammed hard on the corner of the table.
"Fuck!"
When I looked up again, the corner of my forehead was swollen with a bag, like a cow's horn.
Ran Dongyang bared his teeth in pain, Nanchu had already collected her things and stood up, the script was hugged in her arms, a long black dress showed off her beautiful figure, and the way she lowered her head ni him, she was indifferent like a noble black swan.
She bent down, the man's strengths always showed in the darkness, but the darkness wrapped the woman in front of her in a more frightening way.
Nanchu is slender, small boned, with long thin eyes, pale eyebrows and meek, thin lips and shallow, seldom moves to anger, almost nothing can affect her mood.
But when she was really angry, her whole sternness came to the fore.
Like right now.
Those eyebrows especially.
"If you mention that year again, I'll make you regret knowing me."
......
Back at the hotel, Nanchu came out wrapped in a towel after her shower, and the cell phone on the bed vibrated.
An unread tweet lay on the screen.
She glanced away and ripped the towel off, the young girl's white, clean torso fully exposed, the wide floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting her gorgeous figure.
Nanchu was born white, arms thin, a pair of legs well-proportioned and straight, jade bone ice muscle, slender.
It's like the words describe--
In the mirror of the snowy luan, in front of the phoenix building of the Qi tree.
Changing into a long dark dress, Nanchu fished out her cell phone, slid the screen open, and WeChat popped up.
From a man named Lin Qi.
Lin Qi is a talented violinist, nineteen years old, whom Nanchu met while walking in a show in Milan.
"I have my violin recital on Saturday, so be sure to come."
Another one a little while later, "Be sure to come, I'll have the tickets brought to you tomorrow!"
Nanchu returned, "Arrive later."
The next day, Nanchu had just finished shooting the morning scene, sitting in the tent with a small electric fan raised and a Buddhist scripture spread out in her hand.
As soon as Shen Guangzong saw her like this, he got angry and walked over with his breath to ask for punishment, "Is Ran Dongyang's head your masterpiece?"
Nanchu admitted it graciously, "Uh-huh."
Shen Guangzong knew it, and was so angry that his nostrils turned toward the sky, "If you really don't like him, put up with it?"
Nanchu shook her head, "He chatted me up, couldn't stand it."
"...... Hey, other things you are quite able to endure, how can you not endure this thing?" Shen Guangzong drove his arm, angry eyes round, pointed at her fiercely, "This thing I first give you to hide, don't give me trouble again, know that he invites black, don't make trouble."
Indeed, Nanchu fifteen or sixteen years old acted in a play, and the terrain of acting alone has been blackened for years, coupled with the zero public relations ability of the previous agency team and love to speculate on gossip, Nanchu all the way to the present is not easy to send out microblogging, and could not find a single comment that could be read, Shen Guangzong simply closed her microblogging comments.
The black fans then turned to agent Shen Guangzong's microblogging to start cursing again.
"Nanchu get out of showbiz."
"Nanchu you stinking, fucked up piece of shit."
"Your whole family is dead."
......
Shen Guangzong sometimes look at Nanchu also feel sorry for her, so young to come out to work, but also to bear so much, but seldom listen to her complain about anything, arranged for her work, she will try to complete, do not take credit and do not bend the reward.
But she is not humble.
Possessing her own unique pride, she does not bow down to the world, the director said she is very much like a black swan, noble and independent.
But Shen Guangzong missed the second half of the sentence.
The director added that it's still the Black Swan in a Thomas the Train.
The sunlight enveloped her slender body.
Shen Guangzong sighed and sat down beside her, looking down at the scriptures in her hand, "Hey, did Buddha tell you when you'll be red?"
Nanchu didn't even lift her head, "All appearances are illusory."
"Vain my ass." Shen Guangzong rolled his eyes, "With a reputation that stinks to high heaven, and the mood to read this, why don't you just become a monk."
Nanchu flipped through a page of the book and thought with a sideways glance for half a moment, then said, "Good idea."
"It's hopeless." Shen Guangzong shook his head and left.
In the evening, Xigu walked in carrying an envelope, "Nanchu, someone just sent you this."
Nanchu glanced at it and nodded, "Uh, thanks."
The sun is hot, the top of the sun, Xigu drew a tissue and wiped his sweat while saying, "It's a handsome man, wearing a military uniform, super handsome, but it's just too cold."
There was a token shake when he finished.
Nanchu put the book down and looked up, "Uniform?"
Xigu nodded, "Well, but handsome, I asked him to wait, and he wouldn't wait, he turned around and left."
"Is it still there?"
"I just saw him heading for the commissary."
Sometimes a certain face suddenly pops into your head, so you can't help but want to verify it even though you know it's impossible, and it turns out that often a woman's sixth sense is ninety-nine percent correct.
Sure enough, when she chased her outside the studio, she saw a familiar straight-backed figure, and remembered the man's peach blossom eyes, the ends of which were upturned like he was smiling, and a pair of eyebrows that were deep and, when they were serious, intimidating, while the hard silhouette was rare and soft in the sunlight.
The lines of the body, smooth and sharp, not a minute more, not a minute less.
Carrying the water he had just finished in his hand, he screwed on the cap and casually tossed it through the open window of the backseat, having just pulled open the driver's door.
I don't know where the recoil came from, but it "snapped-" shut.
The man frowned out of habit, his brow knitting into a chuan, impatient, implacable.
I only heard from behind me, "Lin Luchu, what are you running for?"