Jiang Lai’s fingers paused for a moment.
She gently patted Chi Yingyu’s head, her eyes filled with the softness of the morning light.
“I’ll definitely send you messages—one in the morning, noon, and night. I’ll report in when I eat and sleep. And I’ll be back very soon.”
She bent down to tuck the quilt under Chi Yingyu’s chin, her fingertips lightly brushing the corner of her reddened eyes.
“Close your eyes now. Let me take one last look before I go.”
Chi Yingyu obediently closed her eyes, but couldn’t help peeking open a tiny slit, watching Jiang Lai pack her luggage quietly.
The clothes she had folded last night were already in the suitcase.
Jiang Lai only needed to stuff her charger and ID card into her carry-on bag.
When she left the bedroom, Chi Yingyu had specifically asked her not to close the door, so she could catch a glimpse of Jiang Lai through the doorway.
As she left, Jiang Lai put on her coat and shoes as softly as possible, afraid to disturb Chi Yingyu in the bedroom.
She originally intended to leave directly, but couldn’t help turning back to look toward the bedroom.
The door was slightly ajar, showing Chi Yingyu’s hair tips peeking out from under the quilt.
After hesitating for two seconds, she still tiptoed back, walked into the bedroom, and reluctantly kissed Chi Yingyu before finally leaving the house.
Once she was out the door and in the elevator, as it descended, Jiang Lai took out her phone and sent Chi Yingyu a message:
“I’m leaving now, you sleep well. I’ll let you know when I’m at the airport.”
The moment the message was sent, her phone vibrated—it was a reply from Chi Yingyu, followed by a yawning emoji.
“Take care on the road. Remember to sleep on the plane. I’m still feeling sleepy anyway. You slept just as little as I did last night, so you must be even more tired.”
Jiang Lai stared at the screen with a smile, typed “Got it, you too. Don’t be late for work,” and put her phone back in her bag.
The city where Xu Ruobing was filming wasn’t too far from Jiang Lai’s location, but it certainly wasn’t close.
If she took the high-speed rail, it would take at least six hours.
The plane was fast—other than having to wake up early in the morning, there were no downsides.
Following Chi Yingyu’s request, Jiang Lai shared almost everything she encountered on the road—except for the hour-plus on the plane—meticulously telling her about every little thing.
However, Jiang Lai had a strange arrangement: she decided not to tell Xu Ruobing that she was coming.
She wasn’t sure why, but she guessed it was meant to be a surprise for Ruobing.
So she didn’t mention her whereabouts to Xu Ruobing.
Even when they chatted, she just casually sent some daily photos and a picture of her outfit that day, subtly dropping hints.
But from their conversations, Jiang Lai roughly figured out why the studio had suddenly arranged this business trip for her: Xu Ruobing had compressed the original one-month shooting schedule into two weeks, and even planned to finish all her scenes in one week.
Through her work, Jiang Lai more or less understood the various arrangements involved in filming.
Even if she didn’t, compressing a month’s workload into a week was sheer torture for the body.
Did the studio send her here to persuade Ruobing?
On the plane, Jiang Lai kept her eyes closed, supposedly resting, but she wasn’t asleep at all.
She was thinking about Xu Ruobing the whole time.
Although the studio hadn’t said it outright, Ruobing making such a sudden decision was definitely because of her.
This matter was best handled by her, and part of the reason was her own fault.
If she didn’t go and resolve it, it would be nothing but running away.
After getting off the plane, Jiang Lai wasted no time and walked straight to the taxi queue.
There were only two people ahead of her.
She pulled out her phone and messaged Xu Ruobing’s agent:
“I’ve arrived at the airport. I checked the navigation—it’ll take about 40 minutes to get to the set. Could you please come pick me up when I arrive?”
Two seconds after sending, Xu Ruobing’s agent called back.
“Great, you’re finally here. Send me another message when you’re about ten minutes away, and I’ll come out to get you.”
The agent was about to tell Jiang Lai all about Xu Ruobing’s changes over the past two days, but on the other end of the line came the distinct noise of the set, along with a distant crew member shouting,
“Prepare for the next scene!”
The timing wasn’t ideal.
Just as the agent was about to speak, it was time for Xu Ruobing’s break.
Every minute and second of Xu Ruobing’s time was precious now.
So even though she was on the phone with Jiang Lai and hadn’t even said much, she had to hang up.
More importantly, she didn’t want Xu Ruobing to find out Jiang Lai was coming.
“Anyway, I’ll wait for you…”
The agent’s voice carried a hint of relief.
“With you here to talk to her, it might be more effective than anything we could say.”
The agent hung up, and it was Jiang Lai’s turn to get into the taxi.
She put her suitcase in the trunk, sat in the co-driver’s seat, and gave the driver the address of the set.
As she got closer to the set, there were fewer cars on the road.
When she was almost there, she messaged the agent.
After the car stopped at the location, Jiang Lai saw a woman in a black jacket not far away—Xu Ruobing’s agent.
As soon as Jiang Lai got out, the agent hurried over to take her suitcase.
“Quick, follow me. They’re shooting an outdoor scene right now. Ruobing just changed clothes, so she’ll probably shoot for another half hour.”
The two of them walked along a small path at the edge of the set, the gravel crunching under their shoes.
Not far away, a crowd had gathered around an open area.
The cameras were set up in the middle, and the lighting crew was adjusting the angles.
Jiang Lai’s heart inexplicably started racing.
Before, she had only seen sets in videos Xu Ruobing sent her.
This was her first time seeing one up close.
The agent pulled Jiang Lai behind a camera, where she could clearly see the filming area.
Jiang Lai followed everyone’s gaze and instantly saw Xu Ruobing standing in front of the lens.
At that moment, Xu Ruobing was the center of everyone’s attention, the focus of all eyes.
She wore an off-white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her forearms, her hair casually tied back.
Despite the cold weather, she was dressed so lightly.
When the filming started, Xu Ruobing’s relaxed gaze instantly changed.
Her face, which had just shown a trace of fatigue, now radiated the gentle warmth of her character.
Jiang Lai held her breath, afraid that even her breathing might disturb the set.
All she could do was quietly admire everything about Xu Ruobing before her.
She had watched Xu Ruobing’s dramas before and always thought the person on the screen was dazzling, impossible to look away from.
But seeing her up close now, the Xu Ruobing in real life was even more breathtaking.