IBKAWB Chapter 46

**Chapter 46: Filming <April in the Human World>**

Re-translated by Namizaki

****************************

Chi Zhongqiao had heard the company’s gossip, but he never took it to heart. After all, the rumors were always the same. As long as they weren’t said to his face, he didn’t care.

Unfortunately, his good attitude crumbled when he realized Lu Yuzhou was showing excessive favoritism, leaving no room for compromise.

Especially since Chi Zhongqiao was the one being favored.

Lu Yuzhou’s position wasn’t secure. Although the Old Chairman favored him, this very favoritism made him a target of prejudice and suspicion. He had climbed to his current position almost entirely under the cold scrutiny of the entire company.

And now, Lu Yuzhou was showing favoritism toward him again.

Chi Zhongqiao could ignore the whispers about “clinging to power” and “sucking up to the sugar daddy,” but he couldn’t ignore how others were using this to attack Lu Yuzhou, accusing him of blurring the lines between public and private interests and abusing his authority for personal gain.

As the saying goes, “Many mouths can melt gold, and accumulated slander can destroy bones.” A few casual remarks might not cost Chi Zhongqiao anything, but for Lu Yuzhou, such gossip was a liability. Lu Yuzhou was trapped in a den of wolves, where everyone wanted to pull him down and take his place. How could leaving such an obvious weakness exposed be anything but disastrous?

After days of contemplation, Chi Zhongqiao devised a strategy to gain leverage: If he wasn’t the “short end of the stick,” who could accuse Lu Yuzhou of favoritism?

The problem was his lack of fame. Without it, any perceived favoritism would be dismissed as shady backroom deals or personal affairs. But if he were to become a top-tier star—a Film Emperor, a Television King, an A-list celebrity—who would dare make such accusations? The narrative would shift entirely, praising Lu Yuzhou’s exceptional foresight and talent for nurturing talent.

If not for this ambition, why would Chi Zhongqiao be in such a hurry? Although his work schedule last year had been poorly planned, preventing him from capitalizing on his momentum and achieving true stardom, he still held the trump card: The compelling role of Shang Tang. Rekindling his previous momentum wouldn’t be difficult. His frantic rush to fill his entire year with projects wasn’t for his own sake.

Chi Zhongqiao gently stroked Lu Yuzhou’s shoulder and back, soothing him. “The old man said you were petty. I thought about it all night, but I still don’t agree.”

Lu Yuzhou slowly reached out, his hand hovering over Chi Zhongqiao’s palm.

In Chi Zhongqiao’s eyes, Lu Yuzhou could do no wrong. A simple act of affection would melt his heart, and his hand, which had been stroking Lu Yuzhou’s cheek, slid down to gently squeeze his fingers. “How did you develop such a temper? Your eyes are always darting around, focused on a few people. You bristle at the slightest touch—doesn’t that make you seem ill-tempered?”

Lu Yuzhou murmured in agreement, “En.”

Chi Zhongqiao continued, “If you only cared about yourself, that would truly be narrow-minded. But you’re not like that. You need to withdraw your attention and focus on yourself. Stop rushing back from every trip—go explore the scenery, wander wherever the sights take you…”

Lu Yuzhou listened quietly, gradually understanding why Chi Zhongqiao had chosen the bodhi seed bracelet for him.

See your true self, see all living beings, see the world.

It was a wish that he wouldn’t confine himself to a self-imposed prison, trapped in one place with no way out.

After a long string of advice, Chi Zhongqiao shook Lu Yuzhou’s hand. “Are you listening?”

Lu Yuzhou replied softly, “I’m listening. I’ll remember everything.”

Chi Zhongqiao couldn’t resist pinching his cheek again.

Because it was just the flu, Chi Zhongqiao rested for two days before returning to the set despite the lingering aches.

The male and female leads had tight schedules, so all scenes were meticulously planned in advance. There was no room for adjustments due to Chi Zhongqiao’s illness. Fortunately, his role wasn’t extensive, requiring only a few scenes per day, which he could finish quickly.

“I’ll rest properly after filming, I promise.” Chi Zhongqiao murmured.

Lu Yuzhou put a mask on him, his expression grim.

Chi Zhongqiao softened his tone. “I’m actually feeling much better now. Besides, it wasn’t that severe to begin with.” He’d spent the past two days at home in constant anxiety, terrified of infecting Lu Yuzhou. Thankfully, Lu Yuzhou’s stronger constitution and preventative cold medicine had kept him safe.

Lu Yuzhou fastened Chi Zhongqiao’s hat, paused for a moment, then said, “Alright. Just take care of yourself.”

Chi Zhongqiao’s voice, muffled by the mask and nasal congestion, sounded particularly docile. “I won’t stay up late anymore. Once the movie’s done, I’ll have time to read scripts.”

Lu Yuzhou’s expression brightened considerably. “Good. Go on, Brother Qiao. Come back early after filming.”

Chi Zhongqiao nodded.

The male and female leads of <April in the Human World> were both A-list actors with decent acting skills.

Nie Rong’s personality was completely different from Fu Jingshen’s. Even if an actor’s performance fell short, he would never throw the script and yell at them. He was reasonable and understanding, granting Chi Zhongqiao two days of leave without hesitation when he learned he had a severe cold.

Today, Du Yusheng drove Chi Zhongqiao to the set. As he navigated the road, Du Yusheng said, “You’re feeling much better now, right? You still need to rest more. You’re not used to being so busy yet; this sudden workload must be exhausting.”

Zhong Yin, who had been relegated to the passenger seat by Chi Zhongqiao, nodded vigorously. “Exactly! Even someone made of iron couldn’t handle this pace. I was terrified when you got sick, Brother Qiao. President Lu was even more worried than I was. You wouldn’t believe how scared I was when he called me the day before yesterday.”

Chi Zhongqiao looked up. “Did he scold you?”

Zhong Yin scratched his head. “Not exactly. He just told me to keep a closer eye on your health and make sure you don’t overwork yourself.” Come to think of it, the boss seemed to be in a pretty good mood when he called.

Chi Zhongqiao finally lowered his head. “I’ll take care of myself.”

Du Yusheng interjected, “Focus on yourself, and leave the rest to Zhong Yin. He’s your assistant, not your little master. President Lu said your flu was quite severe. I was even considering giving you a couple more days off, but it wouldn’t be fair to hold up the entire team’s progress.”

Chi Zhongqiao had insisted on filming despite his illness precisely because of this concern. “Actually, I’m almost fully recovered.”

Du Yusheng shook his head. “The flu doesn’t just disappear like that. It’s contagious. Just take it easy on set later. I’ll go greet the Director and the others. Don’t worry about anything.”

Chi Zhongqiao nodded. “Okay.”

Contagious illnesses were a nuisance. If it weren’t for the need to catch up on the schedule, he wouldn’t have left the house.

He closed his eyes, determined to catch a quick nap in the car.

***

**Film Set**

After Nie Rong finished shooting a scene, the Assistant Director approached him and whispered, “Director Nie, Chi Zhongqiao has arrived on set.”

Nie Rong nodded. “He called yesterday to say he was coming. Prepare to reshoot his scenes from the past two days.”

He rubbed his temples and sighed. “Has Fei Xi arrived yet?”

Fei Xi, the female lead of <April in the Human World>, was a rising starlet rumored to have powerful connections. Known for her aloofness, she rarely interacted with others.

The Assistant Director shook his head. “No.”

Noticing Nie Rong’s grim expression, he tactfully added, “With her connections and popularity, there’s nothing we can do.”

What else could you expect from a newly famous starlet?

Nie Rong sighed. “Forget it.”

After entering the set, Chi Zhongqiao first apologized to Nie Rong before heading to the dressing room.

Du Yusheng stayed with Nie Rong, looking apologetic. “We’re so sorry for the trouble Zhongqiao has caused you, Director Nie. He had a slight fever yesterday and felt too dizzy to come. We’ve wasted your time.”

Nie Rong, known for his good temper, shook his head. “Illness strikes like a landslide. Who hasn’t felt unwell before? How is he now?”

Du Yusheng frowned. “It’s not serious, just a cold. He’s taking medication, but even though it’s mild, it’s still…”

Nie Rong understood. “I know—contagious.”

There was no other choice. The male and female leads’ schedules were too tight; they needed to finish filming quickly to move on to their next projects. They couldn’t delay production for Chi Zhongqiao.

Du Yusheng said, “Zhongqiao will minimize contact with others outside of filming, but we can’t guarantee anything. I’d appreciate it if Director Nie could remind the crew to take extra precautions. We’re truly sorry for the inconvenience.”

His considerate words put Nie Rong at ease. Nie Rong smiled and shook his head, assuring him it was no problem.

Just then, Chi Zhongqiao arrived, fully made up but still wearing a mask. He stopped several steps away from the group. “Director Nie,” he greeted.

Nie Rong liked Chi Zhongqiao. He admired the young actor’s talent, good temper, and professionalism. Even though his illness had slowed down the production schedule, Chi Zhongqiao’s considerate behavior made it impossible for Nie Rong to feel any resentment.

Chi Zhongqiao sincerely apologized to Nie Rong again before taking his script and finding a quiet corner to memorize his lines.

Du Yusheng, confident in Chi Zhongqiao’s self-discipline, glanced at him before instructing Zhong Yin to take a batch of hot drinks to greet the rest of the crew.

His meticulous attention to detail saved Chi Zhongqiao the trouble.

Chi Zhongqiao sat quietly on his small stool, and before long, the male lead emerged from the dressing room, fully transformed.

The male lead was Li Jinghong, a seasoned idol actor considered the most skilled among the “four young stars.”

He had initially intended to head toward Nie Rong after leaving the dressing room, but a glance at Chi Zhongqiao made him reconsider. He changed direction and approached Chi Zhongqiao instead.

His assistant whispered, “Brother Li, he…”

Li Jinghong nodded. “I know.”

Seeing him approach, Chi Zhongqiao set down his script and nodded. Though his smile was hidden behind a mask, his eyes crinkled with warmth.

“Good morning, Teacher Li.”

Li Jinghong smiled. “I heard from the Director yesterday that you took a day off. Are you feeling better now?”

Chi Zhongqiao replied, “Much better than yesterday.”

Li Jinghong nodded. “That’s good. We’re about to start filming, so get some rest while you can.”

“I will. Thank you for your concern, Teacher Li.”

Li Jinghong chuckled. “It’s the least I could do.”

As Li Jinghong walked away, Zhong Yin, who had been waiting nearby, immediately darted over.

“Teacher Li seems really nice and approachable. He even showed concern for Brother Qiao,” Zhong Yin murmured.

Chi Zhongqiao simply smiled. “Next time, don’t talk about people on set.”

Du Yusheng rolled his eyes and slapped Zhong Yin on the head. “Less talking, more observing. Learn from your Brother Qiao.”

Zhong Yin: “…Oh.” If it’s a good thing, why can’t I say it?

Chi Zhongqiao glanced around and whispered, “Praise people to their face, but don’t talk about them behind their back.”

Zhong Yin looked utterly bewildered.

Du Yusheng sighed, pulled Zhong Yin aside, and whispered, “Tell me, did Fei Xi just go into the dressing room?”

Zhong Yin looked blank. “Yeah. She arrived late, didn’t greet anyone, and went straight to makeup.”

Du Yusheng: “She couldn’t even bother to greet Zhongqiao. If she heard you praising Li Jinghong’s good temper, what do you think she’d think?”

Zhong Yin’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh!”

He mulled over Chi Zhongqiao’s words—”Praise people to their face, but don’t talk about them behind their back”—and muttered, “Speaking really is an art.”

Chi Zhongqiao quietly stepped behind Zhong Yin. “Praise people to their face, but not necessarily in front of the person you’re praising. Don’t talk about people behind their back, but it depends on “whose” back. In this industry, reading the room is everything. If someone shows you a little kindness, return twice the favor. But if you think they’re genuinely good-hearted, you’re a fool.”

Zhong Yin struggled to process this.

Chi Zhongqiao sighed. This kid’s even denser than I am. “This isn’t <Invisible Crime> or <Campus Prince and Campus Belle>. Keep your mouth shut most of the time. We’ll finish filming and get out of here.”

Not far away, Li Jinghong sat down, and his assistant immediately handed him a cup of cold medicine. Li Jinghong frowned at the smell. “When did you buy this?”

“I didn’t buy it,” the assistant replied. “Chi Zhongqiao’s assistant sent it over.” He opened a small package containing several packets of ginger tea and cold medicine.

Li Jinghong hummed in acknowledgment.

The assistant grumbled, “Honestly, you knew he had the flu and you still went over? That illness is so contagious.”

Li Jinghong paused. “How could I just ignore him after seeing him? Wouldn’t he think I was being arrogant?”

“But still… was that really necessary?” The assistant quickly swallowed the rest of his sentence.

Li Jinghong sighed. “Politeness isn’t just for show. Still… it’s a shame.” Chi Zhongqiao had only half-risen to fame before losing momentum. It won’t be easy for him to recover now.

The entertainment industry is full of newcomers who shoot to stardom only to fade into obscurity just as quickly. Chi Zhongqiao seems destined for the same fate.

Li Jinghong might never get to act with Chi Zhongqiao again.

Remembering the other man’s acting skills, Li Jinghong felt a pang of regret.