Chapter 29: Spring Mist

After that, Li Siwei never saw Fu Xiaoyuan again. He heard from others that Fu Xiaoyuan had gone to Beishi. But where he ended up, Li Siwei didn’t know.

After the cold early spring, Li Siwei started auditioning again. But no matter how busy he was, he and Yu Chuan still met once a week. Most of the time, it was Li Siwei who took the initiative to find Yu Chuan, wherever he was. Long-distance buses, unlicensed taxis, trains, three-wheeled motorcycles, he had taken almost every mode of transportation.

In Li Siwei’s mind, he was the one indebted in this relationship. It had been this way ever since Yu Chuan saved him from the school equipment room.

That year, Li Siwei signed with a small agency, so small that he still had to find audition opportunities himself. Including him, there were only five artists in the entire company. The only one with some fame was a young actor who had played a supporting role in a historical drama.

But this time, he hadn’t expected the agency to actually find him a decent project.

The project was being filmed on the outskirts of Beishi. His role was the fifth male lead, with twenty minutes of screen time in the entire film. This was almost the most substantial role Li Siwei had ever landed.

The resume submission, audition, and contract signing all went smoothly. Li Siwei even wondered if his bad luck had finally ended.

On the first day, Li Siwei filmed a falling scene, falling over and over again on set, covered in dust. But with so much screen time, he didn’t feel tired. By the end of the day, his knees and elbows were so dirty that his skin was no longer visible.

There were no showers on set, so Li Siwei had to go back to the hotel to wash up. But before he even reached the hotel, his phone rang.

He checked and saw a voice message from Yu Chuan.

—I’ll be there in half an hour.

Li Siwei was startled and quickly called him back.

“Why are you coming?”

“I just finished work and have a day off. You’re filming nearby.”

Li Siwei paused.

“What? Is it inconvenient?”

“No, no.” Li Siwei quickly denied it. After hanging up, he rushed back to the hotel.

He quickly showered, dried his hair, and had just changed his clothes when there was a knock on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

He was only halfway through pulling up his pants and rushed to open the door.

Yu Chuan stood outside, looking windswept.

Li Siwei ruffled his messy hair and stepped aside.

Yu Chuan entered, looked around the room, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Seeing that he wasn’t getting up, Li Siwei quickly understood what he meant. He straddled him, sitting on his lap, facing him.

“Not today.” Li Siwei rubbed his head.

“Why?” Yu Chuan looked up at him.

“I have a night shoot tonight!”

“Tsk.” Yu Chuan nuzzled his face against Li Siwei’s. “Big star now, busy schedule, huh?”

Li Siwei laughed and pushed his face away: “What do you want to eat? I’ll take you to dinner.”

“Whatever Mr. Movie Star wants.” Yu Chuan teased him.

Half an hour later, they were sitting in a small mutton soup restaurant near the film studio.

“Mutton will be out of season next month, let’s eat it while we can.” Li Siwei rubbed his cheeks and ordered a bowl of mutton soup for Yu Chuan.

The small restaurant was filled with extras waiting for work, every table buzzing with conversation.

A TV on the north wall was permanently tuned to the entertainment channel. While they were waiting for their mutton soup, the evening entertainment news came on.

Hearing the sound, Yu Chuan looked up: “Director Jing’s movie is out.”

Li Siwei turned around and saw a movie poster on the TV screen.

“Yes. His movie is doing well.”

Director Jing was a renowned director in China and a visiting professor at the film academy. He was Yu Chuan’s idol. He had once been invited to give a lecture to the performance department, and Yu Chuan had queued all night to get a seat in the front row.

His new film, just released, had already grossed over 100 million yuan in its first week, and industry insiders predicted it might become the year’s box office champion.

On the blurry TV screen, a reporter held a microphone and asked: “Director Jing, do you have any plans for your next film?”

Director Jing, wearing a dark gray wool hat, smiled and nodded: “The next one is in preparation. I believe we’ll have the opportunity to share it with everyone next year.”

The audience gasped. There was a commotion outside the TV as well.

The owner brought their mutton soup. Li Siwei took a sip, the hot soup soothing his exhaustion.

“I heard his next film is ‘Assassins’.” Yu Chuan said.

“Assassins?” Li Siwei looked up from his bowl. “That popular wuxia novel?”

“Yes. Director Jing bought the rights. I heard he’ll stay true to the original and make it an ensemble film.” Yu Chuan nodded.

“You really like that character, what’s his name, Bai something.”

“Bai Qi.”

“Right, right.” Li Siwei finally remembered. In the original novel of “Assassins,” Bai Qi was a skilled swordsman, ruthless and deadly, but also chivalrous, only robbing the rich to help the poor.

“If I could act in one of Director Jing’s films, I could die happy.” Yu Chuan, a light eater, looked at him.

“Don’t talk about dying, it’s bad luck.” Li Siwei looked at him. “If you really like it, go audition. Maybe you’ll get the part.”

Yu Chuan shook his head: “Big projects like this don’t hold open auditions. The cast is probably already decided.”

Seeing his downcast expression, Li Siwei didn’t say anything more.

That night, when Li Siwei returned to the hotel after his night shoot, Yu Chuan was already asleep.

He was lying flat on his back, breathing evenly. Li Siwei carefully lifted the blanket and got into bed.

He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t fall asleep. Five minutes later, he sat up, leaned against the headboard, and turned on his phone.

Li Siwei searched for “Assassins.” This classic wuxia novel had been adapted many times. Ten years ago, a famous comic artist had even turned it into a comic book.

Li Siwei scrolled for a while and found an illustration of Bai Qi. He held up his phone and compared it to the person sleeping beside him.

Their features were actually six or seven points similar.

After this drama wrapped up, Li Siwei stayed on set for two more days. The producer was quite kind and didn’t give them any trouble. He specifically told the main actors to stay an extra day for a wrap-up dinner if their schedules allowed.

It had been days since Yu Chuan’s surprise visit, and Li Siwei was eager to see him again.

Yu Chuan told him that he could rest for a week after finishing his photoshoot, and they had planned to go camping.

Li Siwei had even bought a bunch of camping gear online; several packages were on their way.

Li Siwei barely touched his food at the wrap-up dinner, putting down his chopsticks after a few bites.

He was sitting in the corner, lost in thought, when he suddenly heard the producer at the next table mention “Assassins.” He perked up and walked over.

“Sir, are you saying ‘Assassins’ is holding open auditions?”

The producer turned around and saw Li Siwei standing behind him, startled: “You scared me.”

After a few seconds, he continued: “Not entirely open. The director will probably choose the two leads himself. The remaining important supporting roles will be selected from newcomers. But don’t underestimate the supporting roles. It’s an ensemble film, and there’s a lot of screen time. Especially the role of Bai Qi, whoever plays him will definitely become famous.”

Li Siwei nodded.

“Are you going to audition?” The producer asked him.

“No, no.” Li Siwei shook his head. He had finished reading the original novel of “Assassins,” and there were no suitable roles for him.

“I thought so. You’re good-looking, but the male characters in the novel are all burly, tough guys, not suitable for you.” The producer laughed.

Li Siwei laughed along: “If I have a friend who wants to audition, could you recommend him?”

“I can’t promise a recommendation, but I’ll let you know when the open auditions are held.” The producer seemed to remember something, opened his bag, rummaged through it, and took out a business card, handing it to Li Siwei. “This is a casting director I know. You can contact him.”

Li Siwei’s heart pounded. He quickly took the card with both hands and carefully put it in his wallet.

Half an hour later, the wrap-up dinner finally ended. Li Siwei had originally booked a train ticket for the next morning, but now he didn’t want to wait a minute longer. He took a taxi and rushed back to their small apartment.

The taxi ride took over an hour, and the fare was exorbitant. But Li Siwei paid without hesitation and got out of the car.

Their first-floor apartment had a small courtyard. It was dark when Li Siwei entered.

He opened the door and found the apartment pitch black. He called out, but no one answered. Yu Chuan wasn’t home.

Li Siwei felt a lump in his throat. He took out his phone and sent Yu Chuan a WeChat message. But after ten minutes, there was still no reply.

He was afraid of missing Yu Chuan, so he waited on the living room sofa, wrapped in his coat. He waited for an hour, two hours, but there was still no sound from outside.

He fell asleep on the sofa at some point. When he woke up, it was still dark outside, and there was a sound at the door.

Li Siwei jolted awake and sat up. He looked up and saw Yu Chuan just entering the apartment.

“You’re back!” Li Siwei’s coat was wrinkled from sleeping on the sofa all night.

“Didn’t you say you were coming back tomorrow morning?” Yu Chuan was surprised to see him.

Li Siwei was about to say something when he saw Yu Chuan take out a paper bag from behind him. It seemed to contain a large box.

“Cake?” It was spring, and neither of their birthdays was near.

Yu Chuan took out the cake.

Li Siwei remembered why he had come back. While Yu Chuan was opening the box, he said: “Oh right, do you still remember—”

“I’m going to Fucheng for filming.”

Yu Chuan suddenly spoke, a rare smile on his face.

He held up the cake: “Let’s celebrate.”

Li Siwei froze.

“…Fucheng?”

“Yes, it’s a good project.”

Li Siwei stammered: “What?”

“Do you know Shenghe? That big agency. They have a new drama in production, and the second male lead had an accident, so they need to replace him urgently. One of their agents knows the editor-in-chief of the magazine I work with. They came to me last night and talked to me all night, asking me to audition.”

Li Siwei knew Shenghe, a famous star-making factory in China, with excellent film and television resources. If he could sign with Shenghe, he wouldn’t have to worry about finding work.

After a few seconds, he asked: “How long will you be gone?”

Fucheng was over a thousand kilometers away from Beishi, a ten-hour high-speed train ride.

“Three months.” Yu Chuan took out a cake knife.

“Three months… when are you leaving?” Li Siwei clutched the hem of his coat, frozen.

Yu Chuan put down the knife, went into the bedroom, and pulled out a suitcase.

“I’m leaving soon.”

“What?!”

Li Siwei saw that he had already packed his luggage, as if he had been anticipating this role for a long time.

He had rehearsed this conversation countless times in his mind. He wanted to ask why Yu Chuan was only telling him now, why he was leaving in such a hurry, if he could stay one more day. But in the end, he realized he had no bargaining chips.

The business card of the casting director for “Assassins” was still in his wallet, pristine and uncreased. His phone notified him that his camping gear was about to be delivered, reminding him to keep his phone on.

Yu Chuan was immersed in the joy of joining the new production: “It’s a crime drama, a good team, if I do well, I might become famous. Siwei, I’ll be making big money soon.”

Li Siwei forced a smile and took the cake knife. He cut the cake in half and put the best-looking piece on a plate.

He should be happy for Yu Chuan. Li Siwei thought to himself.

“Congratulations.” He forced another smile and pushed the cake towards Yu Chuan.

Yu Chuan took a bite of the cake, a smear of white cream on his lips. He didn’t finish it. He looked down at the time on his phone: “I have to go. My ride is waiting outside.”

Li Siwei looked out the window. A black van was parked under the streetlight.

Yu Chuan turned around, then looked back: “Oh right, were you about to say something?”

Li Siwei’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He shook his head: “No.”

Li Siwei didn’t even have time to say goodbye. He watched Yu Chuan leave with his suitcase. In the early spring morning, before sunrise, in the thick fog, Yu Chuan, in his black coat, got into the black van, the automatic door closing with a whir.

The car quickly accelerated and disappeared from his sight in seconds.

Only the sound of departing footsteps echoed in Li Siwei’s heart.