Chapter 4: A Morning in 2014
At six in the morning, inside the sea-view suite of the Tianyuan Hotel in Xiamen.
Jiang Ye awoke on the luxurious two-meter-wide bed and stretched comfortably.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow across the entire room, while a subtle, high-end fragrance lingered in the air.
“Comfortable!”
He sighed with satisfaction. No wonder this was the executive suite reserved for lead actors—far superior to his cramped double room.
Jiang Ye rolled off the bed, his bare feet sinking into the soft, plush carpet as he performed several standard stretches.
As for why he was sleeping here...
Of course, it was to keep an eye on his good brother, Ou Hao!
Jiang Ye considered himself a man of loyalty.
And this task was ridiculously easy for him: as long as he stayed put in Ou Hao’s room, his brother was safe.
So, as soon as he got the key card last night, he finished his wash-up early and happily slept on this expensive bed.
“I really am a good person...”
Energized, Jiang Ye finished a set of push-ups and hummed a tune as he headed toward the bathroom.
Suddenly, his steps halted abruptly.
On the sofa in the living room, Ou Hao sat up groggily, rubbing two large dark circles under his eyes.
Their eyes met, and the air instantly froze.
Jiang Ye: “......”
Ou Hao: “......”
“Brother, you worked hard!” Ou Hao suddenly charged over and gripped Jiang Ye’s hand tightly. “That stakeout last night must have been exhausting. I came back in the middle of the night and couldn’t wake you no matter how hard I tried.”
Jiang Ye’s expression instantly became priceless.
He had just been sleeping deeply...
“Uh...” Jiang Ye, unusually embarrassed, scratched his nose. “It was nothing, just doing my duty...”
Ou Hao’s eyes welled with tears: “I knew I picked the right guy! No one went into your wife’s room last night, right?”
“Nope... Don’t worry, Brother Ou. I kept watch until midnight, didn’t even blink. I guarantee not a single fly flew in!”
“Then, same again tonight?”
Looking into Ou Hao’s sincere eyes, Jiang Ye suddenly felt a pang of conscience...
Lucky he wasn’t twisted enough; otherwise, this ‘stakeout’ would have meant sleeping not only in his bed but with his woman too...
That would be just plain bullying!
Who knew if Ou Hao found out, whether he’d jump straight off the balcony...
After a quick wash, Jiang Ye bid farewell to Ou Hao, who went back to sleep, slipped on a sports jacket, and began his morning run along South Island Road.
In the morning mist, Xiamen carried the salty sea breeze; phoenix trees shed fiery red petals on the roadside. A few elderly men carried radios as they exercised on the boardwalk, where “The Most Dazzling Ethnic Style” played.
This had become a habit since he was reborn and joined the crew: five kilometers daily, starting from the Tianyuan Hotel, passing through the artistic streets of Zeng Cuo An, and ending at the Huangcuo seaside.
In 2014, Zeng Cuo An hadn’t fully commercialized yet. At the alley entrance, an old grandmother was frying oyster pancakes, the aroma mingling with the salty sea air.
After his run, Jiang Ye habitually ducked into “A Ling’s Vermicelli Soup” near the Huangcuo market.
Compared to the hotel’s exquisite buffet, he preferred the everyday vitality here.
On the weathered walls hung a faded poster of “Transformers 4,” and several motorbike taxis were parked outside, their drivers chatting in Minnan dialect about last night’s football match.
“Young man, same as usual?” The landlady, wearing an apron printed with “Top Taobao Seller,” deftly ladled vermicelli soup into ceramic bowls.
“With oysters! And an extra fried dough stick!”
Jiang Ye pulled out his newly bought Xiaomi 4, paused Pu Shu’s “Ordinary Road” playing in his earphones.
As the steaming bowl arrived, Jiang Ye nibbled on the crispy fried dough stick while scrolling through Weibo:
[Chen Sicheng and Tong Liya’s wedding in Xinjiang]
Netizens reveal: Tong Liya’s father performed the dongbula, and the wedding favors included specially made naan.
[Wu Jing welcomes a son]
Xie Nan gave birth smoothly; Wu Jing posted a photo of footprints titled “Wu Suowei.”
...
As he ate, two young men wearing blue vests came in: “Grandma, you can get a 20 yuan red envelope if you accept payment via Alipay!”
“What’s Alipay?” The landlady waved them off cautiously. “I only know cash!”
“Just scan this code to receive payment...”
“No, no! What if my money gets scanned away?”
Jiang Ye couldn’t help but laugh, placing ten yuan under his bowl.
Stepping outside, a nearby store played “Little Apple,” while several girls circled a life-sized cardboard cutout of “Swords of Legends” for selfies.
He glanced at his phone: 7:30 a.m., time to head to the set.
“So this is 2014...” Jiang Ye tossed his empty Silver Deer peanut milk bottle into the trash and jogged toward the bus stop.
Bus number 22 slowly pulled in, its side brightly advertising “China Mobile 4G.”
At eight in the morning, Jiang Ye arrived at the set, where only the lighting crew and stagehands were moving equipment.
“Jiang Ye, you’re early!” The script supervisor, a friendly older woman, handed him a cup of soy milk.
“Nothing better to do.” Jiang Ye downed it in a few gulps, helped the lighting guys carry softboxes, then organized the costume racks for the props team.
Within half an hour, the whole crew was praising, “This kid is really hardworking!”
After finishing, Jiang Ye slipped to a corner to find a power outlet, and suddenly spotted a familiar figure behind the makeup room door.
Chen Duling, dressed in a light blue school uniform skirt, her long black hair tied in a ponytail, was making faces at the makeup mirror.
She widened her eyes and used her fingers to hold her upper and lower lids, frozen like a startled fawn.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on her snow-white skin.
“What kind of secret skill is this?” Jiang Ye approached curiously.
Startled, Chen Duling nearly dropped the mirror.
Seeing it was him, she immediately resumed her cool expression: “Director Su said I blink too fast in close-ups, so I’m practicing!”
“You better move away before you get hurt!”
Jiang Ye recalled Su Youpeng’s complaint yesterday: “Chen Duling blinks so often, even flies flying by get trapped in her lashes.”
“Oh, is this the early bird catching the worm?”
“Well, Dudu,” he deliberately dragged out her nickname, “need some professional coaching?”
Chen Duling instantly lost her icy composure and glared at him in mock anger: “If you keep acting so disrespectful, I’ll—”
“—kill me with your eyelashes?” Jiang Ye mimicked her exaggerated blinking. “I heard you knocked out every little bug that flew by yesterday?”
“You!” Chen Duling raised the mirror as if to hit him but couldn’t help laughing first.
She wore a light tint of lip gloss today; when she smiled, a faint dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth.
Like magic, Jiang Ye pulled out a bottle of eye drops from his pocket: “Try these? A professional actor’s secret. After using them, you get a ‘never-rest-in-peace’ kind of mission feeling.”
“...”
Chen Duling took the drops, then suddenly tiptoed closer to his eyes: “Let me see if you’ve practiced too.”
A faint scent of gardenia drifted from the girl, catching Jiang Ye off guard. He stepped back but bumped into a prop rack, causing a loud clatter.
“Jiang Ye!” A stagehand shouted from afar, “Don’t break the equipment!”
Taking advantage of the moment, Chen Duling shoved the eye drops in her pocket, her ponytail brushing his chin as she turned: “You little brat, you better mind your own business first.”
The sunlight was just right, making her ear tips blush faintly—whether from the morning light or something else, Jiang Ye couldn’t tell.