Chapter 81: A Gift Arrives

Chu Luoxi had no idea who Liu Yun really was, but she once saw him in deep conversation with Leng Daji, and he was exceedingly mysterious. Still, she wasn’t particularly curious about it. Their friendship wasn’t built on status—so long as it caused her no harm, anything was acceptable. Her family had three generations untouched by the entertainment industry, so there ought to be no entanglements of interest, and naturally, it was no concern.

There hadn’t been a welcoming banquet when she joined the crew, but the celebration at the end of filming was lively and warm. She never touched alcohol in front of outsiders, and no one deliberately provoked her, so everyone toasted with soft drinks and called it a night.

The only one truly frustrated was Huang Zixue, who had been banned from drinking for a long time; he wasn’t allowed a drop now either. It wasn’t that he particularly fancied a drink, but as a grown man, carrying a soft drink around felt embarrassing.

Yet it was Director Qiu Xian’s words that truly moved Chu Luoxi: “Little Chu, do a good job. I’ll ask you for my next project, so don’t refuse me!”

She nodded eagerly, agreeing at once. “Of course, Director Qiu, your summons, and I’ll come at once.”

She could tell Qiu Xian wasn’t merely encouraging her—he genuinely meant what he said. Others might not know, but she was quite aware: once “Rivers and Mountains” was released, Director Qiu Xian’s reputation would soar and he would be crowned a legend. Even if she wasn’t the lead in his next film, being part of it would still be an honor!

Moreover, regardless of fame or popularity, Qiu Xian always made excellent films with high standards. She was far from arrogant—why would she turn up her nose at that?

Chu Luoxi, lively and energetic at the banquet, wilted as soon as she returned home, making Ding Ju snicker to herself. After more than a month of living and working together, Ding Ju had come to know Chu Luoxi’s habits well. It must be an actor’s trait: always wearing different masks in front of others, but once the door closes, her true self emerges. She cared nothing for appearances, living like a perfectly normal person.

“Do you want something to eat?” Ding Ju asked out of habit, knowing Chu Luoxi would never touch anything during such times, but would usually make up the meal later.

Chu Luoxi waved weakly, slumping on the sofa in a daze. “My stomach’s full of water, there’s no room for anything else.”

“Tomorrow you’re leaving the crew. School hasn’t started yet—where are you planning to go?” Ding Ju set aside the food she’d prepared and, after a moment’s thought, asked.

“Tomorrow, hmm!” Chu Luoxi responded slowly, her expression adorably vacant. “With a few days left of summer, I plan to go home for a bit.”

The school was certainly empty now; Zhu Xue Shuang and Liu Yu Jia were still slogging away on set, enduring the grind. They’d joined the crew around the same time as Chu Luoxi, but as leads, their workload was far heavier. Naturally, Chu Luoxi would stay home and relax...

“Going home, huh!” Ding Ju was a little disappointed—not that she wanted Chu Luoxi to stay, but she realized she’d be left with nothing to do, unsure how Leng Daji would arrange her tasks.

Over the past month, she’d tried to help Chu Luoxi get used to her presence, but Chu Luoxi was fiercely independent. Unlike the artists who couldn’t get by without their assistants, as Leng Daji described, Ding Ju hadn’t sensed the slightest dependency. Had she really encountered a rare outlier among actors? Was her luck really that miserable?

The next morning, Chu Luoxi bid farewell to everyone in the crew before dragging her luggage straight to the airport.

Only Ding Ju watched her leave with wide eyes, then slowly took out her phone to report in.

“So, she went home?” Leng Lu said in a tone of surprise that was anything but surprised, coldly stating the facts. Ding Ju found him intimidating to converse with.

“Yes, she went home. I don’t know when she booked her ticket,” Ding Ju replied, feeling she’d failed as an assistant. Why didn’t Chu Luoxi rely on her like other artists?

Leng Lu paused, seemingly thinking it over, then finally answered, “You can take a break too, until Imperial Shadow Academy starts up again.”

“Really?” Ding Ju’s eyes lit up in excitement—so there was such a benefit!

“If you don’t want a vacation, I can arrange work for you,” Leng Lu replied icily, rolling his eyes inwardly. Was this assistant too dense? Did Chu Luoxi dislike this sort of help? Otherwise, after a month or two, progress was still so slow.

“No, I’ll leave the crew too then!” Ding Ju hung up at once, fearing Leng Lu would change his mind. She quickly packed her things, ready to retreat.

“Hmm, this girl’s gotten bolder—she actually dares to hang up on me?” Leng Lu stared at his phone, muttering. After a pause, he added, “She’s gone home, that little woman really is attached to her family!”

He flipped through his notebook as usual. Xiao Jingxuan’s ethereal voice drifted over: “Having a home to miss is a kind of happiness. Those who know how to cherish it are even happier.”

Leng Lu was exasperated, glancing at him with resignation. “Hey, who talks like that?”

The plane was swift; Chu Luoxi was soon home, enjoying a delicious meal cooked by her father. Then she lazily climbed onto her computer, ready to embrace her days as a homebody. No sooner had she opened her chat software than, unsurprisingly, she found a message from the great Bai Yun: “I heard you’re home today. Luckily, the timing was right—I sent something to you, nearly mailed it to the crew. Be sure to check for it!”

Chu Luoxi was full of questions, double-checking that the message was indeed from Bai Yun. It wasn’t New Year, nor any festival, not even her birthday—why send a gift? Wasn’t that a bit odd?

She asked, but after waiting a long time with no reply, she guessed Bai Yun must be locked away writing, so she gave up. Though receiving a gift was delightful, she still preferred to know what it was—otherwise, she couldn’t rest easy.

She also called Zhu Xue Shuang and Liu Yu Jia, chatted about their experiences, and felt her days were going quite well.

But life that was too pleasant never lasted. The next day, Chu Luoxi was dragged by her mother to go shopping, and after hours of battling the crowds, her legs were cramping, making her suspect her aversion—and mild phobia—of shopping was caused by her mother since childhood. Truly, it was a tale of bitter tears!

She complained to Bai Yun, only to be mocked for not being like a typical woman, nearly sending Chu Luoxi into a rage.

Chu Luoxi seized the opportunity to ask what Bai Yun had sent, but Bai Yun refused to say, insisting she’d know once she saw it, leaving Chu Luoxi annoyed.

She wasn’t hoping for a surprise—she just hoped it wouldn’t be a shock.