Chapter 101: The Daily Routine of Seniority and Rank

Screenwriter Liu and Director Li were quite satisfied with Gu Cheng’s interpretation of his character. After asking a few foundational questions, they finalized the entire cast.

Director Li told everyone to make their final preparations and to meet at the Jinmen Film and Television Base in two days for the official start of filming.

Gu Cheng officially became the male lead of "The Golden Powder Family," playing Jin Wangxi. Dong Jie took on the female lead, Leng Qingqiu, while Liu Feifei was cast as the second female lead, Bai Xiuzhu. The originally intended male lead, Cheng Kun, was reassigned to play Ouyang Yujian, the male rival.

Cheng Kun was considered a skilled actor and couldn’t afford to be reckless; at least he could still convincingly portray the pride of a poor scholar. Having graduated less than two years ago from the Beijing Film Academy and with two art films under his belt, he wasn’t yet a top-tier star, so playing the second male lead wasn’t a demotion.

As for whether Cheng Kun would secretly resent Gu Cheng in the future, Gu Cheng couldn’t be bothered. He had been forced into this role; he never sought to snatch Cheng Kun’s part.

Leaving the CCTV building, Gu Cheng pondered whether to have the driver take the highway straight to Jinmen and then find accommodation once there.

After all, the smog in the capital was notoriously oppressive, and Gu Cheng had little desire to linger there. It would be better to arrive in Jinmen early and enjoy some fresh seafood.

Just as he headed toward the parking lot, a young woman called out from behind.

“Hey, Mr. Gu, do you have any plans?”

It was Dong Jie and Liu Feifei.

Gu Cheng replied casually, “What’s up? I don’t have any plans; I’m just planning to head to Jinmen early.”

“Oh, nothing, just checking,” Dong Jie said. Being older, she noticed Liu Feifei’s youthful face and took the lead confidently. “I’m somewhat of a newcomer myself and haven’t worked with CCTV producers before. I’m worried about being seen as arrogant. Since someone as big as Mr. Gu is going to Jinmen today, Feifei and I naturally want to be proactive, too.”

Gu Cheng didn’t immediately catch on but soon realized they were worried about being accused of showing attitude by arriving late to the crew.

This was common in the entertainment world. For example, if a crew had ten roles with agreed start dates, the less established actors would arrive earlier, and the biggest stars would arrive last.

Gu Cheng, who never thought of himself as an actor, didn’t have that mindset. “Hey, what’s the big deal? Director Li said we start filming the day after tomorrow. As for seniority, I can be the last to arrive and be your cushion.”

Dong Jie blushed and quickly waved her hand. “We really didn’t mean that; please feel free.”

Not wanting to engage in false modesty, Gu Cheng said confidently, “How about this? My car’s spacious; if you don’t mind, pack your things and come with me tonight. Of course, if you need to bring assistants, my car might be too small.”

The girls found Gu Cheng’s invitation sudden but knew he was rich and wouldn’t mistreat women, so they lowered their guard. Refusing might seem like they found his car too cramped.

Dong Jie politely said, “We’re just minor roles; we don’t have assistants. We’ll go pack and meet you shortly.”

Though they had planned to take a taxi, not wanting to delay Gu Cheng, he casually instructed the driver to pick them up. He himself sat in the back, pulling out his Nokia phone to check emails and opening his laptop to handle work, seemingly unaffected.

The Skoda was stable, and they drove to near the Beijing Film Academy. Both Dong Jie and Liu Feifei had residences in the capital, conveniently close to the film academy. After packing their luggage, the car took the highway straight to Jinmen.

At Liu Feifei’s home, her mother, upon hearing her daughter was going with a colleague’s car to Jinmen, anxiously came to check. After confirming Gu Cheng’s identity, she let Liu Feifei go, reminding her to stay with Dong Jie that night.

During the drive, Gu Cheng was busy working, occasionally making calls. Dong Jie initially tried to socialize politely but saw he was engrossed and refrained. Thus, the two girls chatted noisily among themselves.

Liu Feifei, only fourteen and new to television, was timid and cautious. After chatting with Dong Jie for two hours, the conversation began to trail off.

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Gu Cheng was the kind of person who forgot to eat when busy working.

After arriving in Jinmen and checking into a hotel near the film city, he suddenly remembered he hadn’t eaten lunch since the morning’s audition and had been rushing all day. It was nearly four in the afternoon.

The two girls were already running out of energy from their chatting.

Gu Cheng felt a pang of guilt. “I’m really sorry. I got so caught up in work I lost track of time. If you don’t mind, let me treat you to some seafood.”

Dong Jie pouted in protest. “You know I’m on a diet, but Feifei is still growing!”

Gu Cheng smiled awkwardly. “You didn’t warn me earlier. Are you familiar with Jinmen? If so, lead the way—I’ve never been here.”

Dong Jie, twenty-one and freshly graduated, still subconsciously saw Gu Cheng as a younger brother. So she accepted the role of guide without hesitation.

She led them to a nearby specialty restaurant known for charcoal-grilled seafood and reserved a private room. Though they were newly acquainted, Gu Cheng’s wealth meant the girls felt comfortable and didn’t hold back.

He ordered a huge spread: fish, shrimp, scallops, vegetables, and mushrooms. Under the charcoal fire, he and Liu Feifei quickly became foodies, each devouring a saury and a yellow croaker; Dong Jie elegantly wrapped grilled matsutake mushrooms in lettuce and ate daintily.

After finishing two scallops and several sea cucumber skewers, Gu Cheng noticed Dong Jie’s unusual restraint. “Why are you only eating vegetables?”

Dong Jie grimaced and joked helplessly, “Ah, it’s a sad story! When Director Li was casting, he wasn’t quite sure. They called the book the ‘Republican Era Dream of the Red Chamber,’ and since Leng Qingqiu is a resilient woman who embraces poverty, they wanted someone like a mature Xue Baochai. Bai Xiuzhu is sensitive and delicate like Lin Daiyu.

“But when they found me, they realized the original text described Leng Qingqiu as very thin—how unfair! A girl with Baochai’s ‘silver plate face’ can’t possibly be as skinny as Lin Daiyu. So they insisted I lose weight. I’ve been on cucumbers and tomatoes for two months, nothing else allowed.”

Gu Cheng felt a sudden tenderness, recalling his own early days after crossing over, watching Kwon Bo-ah suppressed by her dance coach simply for wanting a plate of cheesy pasta in a Korean French restaurant.

He naturally said, “Seafood isn’t meat; an occasional meal won’t hurt.”

Dong Jie smiled and declined, “Don’t do evil even if it’s small.”

Seeing persuasion fail, Gu Cheng tried another angle, “Matsutake mushrooms are even more expensive than seafood! If you’re trying to ruin me, just say so.”

Dong Jie was teased and playfully snatched a grilled pomfret she’d been eyeing, biting off half the fish and revealing steaming white bones.

“Hmph, I grew up in Liaogang; I’ve eaten more seafood than you’ve eaten meals.”

The three had their fill.

Once the meat was eaten, Dong Jie, unusually talkative, steered the conversation back to the story.

“Hey, Mr. Gu, when Teacher Liu asked you this morning, how did you come up with that interpretation of Jin Wangxi? We’ve all read the original many times and never imagined Jin Wangxi could be like that.”

Gu Cheng took a sip of baijiu to rinse his mouth. “Don’t call me Mr. Gu. I work in the internet industry and hate formalities. Just call me Cheng-ge... wait, you’re older, so call me Ah Cheng, and I’ll call you Sister Dong.”

Dong Jie smiled faintly. “Alright, whatever you like. But don’t dodge the question — could it be your experience with scoundrels is particularly rich, so you’re good at excusing them?”

“What a joke! I’ve never even had a girlfriend. How could I be a scoundrel?” Gu Cheng laughed. “I just have a deep understanding of ‘freedom,’ so naturally, I thought of using ‘sacrificing love for righteousness’ as a guise.”

Dong Jie fell silent, seemingly lost in thought.

Liu Feifei, who had been quietly eating and listening, seized the moment to ask, “Brother Gu, do you lack ‘freedom’ a lot? Are your family members very strict with you?”

Gu Cheng smiled, gently stroking her hair. “Kids don’t understand. This is my occupational hazard. It’s complicated; you wouldn’t get it. We’ll talk more some other time.”