Zhou Yun: "It’s helpless."
Song Chi: "It’s alright, many actors accumulate and improve bit by bit."
"But you are a genius, aren’t you? It’s as if you have gone through the accumulation and improvement of these actors."
"Do you think genius means not having to work hard? That one can perform astoundingly well with a mind completely blank?"
"You dare to accept when called a genius."
Song Chi said, "It’s a deserved compliment, modesty would be too hypocritical."
Zhou Yun: "I can’t continue this conversation. This humble girl takes her leave."
"Not playing the fairy anymore?" Song Chi laughed.
"Seeing your shameless appearance, I’ve deeply reflected on myself and decided to be more modest in the future," Zhou Yun said.
Song Chi: "I doubt that."
Zhou Yun hung up the phone, her smile lingering for at least a few minutes until her face grew stiff. It was then she touched her cheeks and realized it.
Was she really that happy talking to Song Chi?
A voice in Zhou Yun’s heart asked this.
Sometimes, even when there’s no one around, one can still fall into a state of self-embarrassment.
Zhou Yun continued to read the script.
The further she read, the more her heart ached for Liu Rusu.
Such a young girl, so intelligent, so stubborn, and so tragic.
The first time she met He Mu, she was still Miss of the Lew Family, and he followed his master to her home to treat her mother.
Later, after her family’s downfall, she was sold into the brothel, still stubbornly fighting for survival.
Once, He Mu was brought to the brothel and their eyes met, their identities had overturned completely.
They sat in the room in silence until dawn, candle beans burning away, wordlessly unaware of the passing time.
The young man wanted to redeem the girl but had nothing to his name, helpless and penniless.
After that, years passed in silence.
She fell gravely ill, struggling on the verge of death, refusing to give up on life. Yet thrown out of the brothel to fend for herself, she encountered He Mu hiding his identity to avoid disaster. He took her back to his small courtyard.
A doctor and a patient, days and nights passed, glances shared and pulses read, feelings quietly growing.
Liu Rusu was trapped by her past in the brothel and once He Mu regained momentum, she thanked him and left alone.
The script meandered through twists and turns, leaving much to the imagination with just a few strokes.
The next time she met He Mu, she had become a favored concubine of Prince Heng, and upon learning that He Mu had married, she felt disappointment but also relief.
He Mu was an aide to Prince Cheng, and after several confrontations with Prince Heng, who held grudges, people were sent to kill him.
Liu Rusu learned of Prince Heng’s plan and secretly sent a message to save He Mu.
Prince Cheng learned of this and threatened Liu Rusu to meet him, but when Prince Heng discovered this, he led a pursuit. Amidst the chaos, Liu Rusu escaped and hid in a small courtyard with He Mu’s help.
For a long time, Liu Rusu lived in that small courtyard. She did not dare to leave until Prince Heng suddenly died. Then she set up a small stall and became self-reliant.
Later, when Prince Heng fell from power and He Mu was also implicated, to protect his wife and child, he had to entrust them to Liu Rusu.
Following him, there were old grievances, no days were easy.
Liu Rusu nodded with a smile.
He Mu’s wife doubted and targeted her, she had no defenses, but she promised He Mu to take good care of them, and she did.
Finally, when He Mu returned, she handed his wife and child back to him safe and sound.
She stayed in the courtyard, alone with her small stall.
Temperature plummeted overnight, He Mu came to bring her coal, but enemies followed.
Facing the cold, Liu Rusu opened the door and pushed him to run.
She clung desperately to the enemy’s legs, buying him time to escape.
He was just a doctor, weak of strength.
When he drew a blade to kill his enemy, Liu Rusu understood that the young doctor from the past had learned how to wield a knife.
Liu Rusu had once cared about her reputation, then later felt that being alive was more important than reputation, and later wished that she could have retained that reputation, but she knew that surviving was already the greatest fortune.
In fact, there was an obsession in her heart, because of which she felt that many things, even saying them out loud, were not important. So, she never voiced this obsession in her lifetime, and as she was dying, she didn’t plan to speak it either. She just smiled and said to him, "You must live well."
These six words were her last, her words ended there, one step further would be no more.
After reading the script, Zhou Yun’s eyes were already wet.
She knew how good the script was, but at the moment she finished reading, she forgot that she was an actress. She just felt a little bit of pain.
She sent Song Chi a message: I’ve finished reading the script. I think you must be crazy to think I could play Liu Rusu, but I will do my best, thank you.
That night, Zhou Yun dreamt she was sitting in the courtyard she imagined, under a peaceful sky, with tranquil people in the yard. She silently sat under a tree, enjoying the cool air, thinking of people, with a smile on her face, within that smile, regret, within that regret, indifference.
Many years later, Zhou Yun still remembered the day she joined the crew. On the way, a sudden torrential rain began, and she suddenly thought of Liu Rusu, tears flowing, even before starting, she was already feeling the pain. She told Zheng Xiaojue, "Xiaoju, when I play the scene of the first meeting with He Mu, I will cry very hard."
Zheng Xiaojue asked, puzzled, "Why, did He Mu mistreat Liu Rusu at their first meeting?"
Zhou Yun shook her head, "No, He Mu did not mistreat Liu Rusu, but when Liu Rusu first met He Mu, she said He Mu was a mute."
"Ah? Why?" Zheng Xiaojue asked.
"Because she asked He Mu many questions, and he did not speak."
"Why would you cry then, Sister Xiao Yun?"
Zhou Yun said, "Because Liu Rusu only later realizes that He Mu is mute, and she herself is also a mute."