Male Sing and His Pet Owner: Chapter 87

Zhao Kaile stood at the doorway for a moment, mentally figuring out how to broach the subject, when the woman inside spotted him first, her expression somewhat surprised.

She broke into a smile, her words still carrying an accent: “What’s up, little brother? You need to use the kitchen?”

“Ah…” Caught red-handed, Zhao Kaile could only offer an awkward smile: “Yes, yes. Is this yours? May I borrow it?”

The woman chuckled: “It’s not mine. I came over to cook for my husband. He said there’s a small kitchen here we can use, so here I am.”

Zhao Kaile: “Oh, oh. Are you the director’s wife?”

“No.” The woman lifted the pot lid to check, speaking casually: “My husband is the one who argues with the director.”

Zhao Kaile: “…”

What? Someone who argues with the director?? The assistant director? Some big name artist? Forget it, whatever…

“Come in, it’s cold outside.” The woman said hospitably: “I’m almost done. There’s still rice and noodles here, just use them directly. Oh, the eggs are in this box, figure out the rest yourself.”

Not only that, but the stovetop was equipped with a full set of pots, bowls, and various seasonings, and common fruits and vegetables were readily available.

Zhao Kaile was practically overwhelmed with gratitude. He wanted to ask for her payment code to send some money, but the woman firmly waved her hand in refusal.

“You’re here to act too, huh?” As she packed food into the lunch box, she said warmly: “Did you wait all day without getting any scenes? Oh my, that’s how it is being an extra. Not easy, very hard work.”

Zhao Kaile was rolling up his sleeves, and finally understood where her sympathy came from. He could only offer a bitter laugh: “I… it’s fine, it’s fine.”

The woman picked up the lunch box and waved goodbye: “Remember to turn off the fire when you’re done. Leaving the light and door open is fine. Sister’s off to deliver food first.”

“Okay! Thanks, sis!” Zhao Kaile nodded repeatedly, watching her leave with gratitude, thinking to himself, how wonderful, there really is kindness in this world.

With no one to disturb him, Zhao Kaile quickly cooked a small pot of stomach-soothing congee and two small side dishes. He borrowed a lunch box to pack them, cleaned the pot, then carried the food happily off to find Zhan Hang.

During the break from work, it was too cold outside. Zhan Hang sat in the car, bored out of his mind reading the script, his thoughts constantly interrupted by staff running back and forth outside the window. He threw the script aside in irritation.

He covered his face with one hand, let out a long breath, and thought to himself, why is Zhao Kaile taking so long to throw out the garbage?

Speak of the devil, and he appears. Zhao Kaile yanked the car door open with a whoosh, and the cold wind instantly froze Zhan Hang half to death.

“Close the door!” Zhan Hang barked with a ferocious expression: “Where did you go?”

Zhao Kaile placed the lunch box on the extendable table like he was presenting a treasure, grinning from ear to ear: “Ta-da!”

“…Ta-da your head.” Zhan Hang’s mouth said one thing but his body betrayed him. His nose caught the scent first, and he leaned over to open the lid, looking at Zhao Kaile in confusion: “You made this?”

Zhao Kaile nodded, helped him set everything out, and urged: “Eat, eat. When you’re done, I’ll return the bowls to them.”

“Well, aren’t you something.” Zhan Hang couldn’t help but let out a hum of laughter, holding the bowl and taking a small sip. He offered a simple evaluation: “You’ve improved. Better than that bowl of noodles you made.”

“…” Zhao Kaile said with a deadpan expression: “Thanks.”

“How did you manage this?” Zhan Hang asked: “There’s a small kitchen next to the garbage recycling station?”

Zhao Kaile thought for a moment, briefly recounted what just happened to Zhan Hang, and asked with a puzzled expression: “She said her husband is the one who argues with the director. Who argues with the director for no reason? The screenwriter?”

Zhan Hang nearly sprayed out his congee upon hearing this. It took him a while to recover, caught between tears and laughter: “That’s the producer’s wife. Lucky for you she has a good temper and didn’t catch you for a scolding. Did you thank her?”

Zhao Kaile learned the truth, and said with lingering fear: “I did…”

He had thought that woman was quite kind, spoke with an accent, and wasn’t dressed particularly extravagantly. He assumed she was the wife of some grassroots staff member. He never expected she was the producer’s wife!! Good heavens, he nearly offended someone again. Luckily he hadn’t revealed his identity, otherwise one wrong word might have dragged Zhan Hang down with him…

Zhan Hang asked: “Is anyone else using that small kitchen?”

“Didn’t see anyone.” Zhao Kaile answered honestly.

“Don’t go borrow it again.” Zhan Hang said speechlessly: “The rumors outside are getting more and more ridiculous.”

Zhao Kaile propped his chin on his hand, looking at him helplessly: “Alright. I was originally planning to go to the supermarket outside to buy some ingredients, so we wouldn’t have to eat boxed meals every day.”

Zhan Hang looked up at him, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly upward.

Zhao Kaile hesitated, meeting his gaze with a blank expression, as if asking what was wrong.

Zhan Hang asked: “Who else have you cooked for?”

“Zhao Kaiming.” The moment Zhao Kaile mentioned this name, he had an endless desire to complain: “All he knew how to make from childhood to adulthood was instant noodles, or instant noodles with an egg, or a sausage, or some pickled vegetables… When I was at school, he ate all that random junk outside. The moment I was on break, I cooked and he ate… Although I can’t make anything impressive either, but at least it’s edible. Once he got a sudden urge to cook for me, and the meat got stuck to the bottom of the pot. When he scooped it up, it was all burnt…”

Zhan Hang nodded in admiration: “A real talent.”

Zhao Kaile remembered something, lowered his head to send a WeChat message to the caregiver. A moment later, the caregiver sent back a photo of Zhao Kaiming eating. He looked like he was recovering pretty well.

“How is he?” Zhan Hang asked.

Zhao Kaile said: “Nothing serious… He can eat normally.”

Zhan Hang: “What’s he planning to do next? What about his original job?”

“The boss is very nice, gave him a long leave.” Zhao Kaile said slowly: “Sounds nice when you put it that way… All his wages that should be settled were settled. We’ll talk about the future later. He was saying he saved up money and wanted to open an online store or something… And now this happened.”

Zhan Hang gave a noncommittal hum, expressing agreement. After all, these days, internet celebrities who open online stores and do livestream selling make way more money than non A-list artists.

After finishing this extra meal, Zhao Kaile hurriedly got out of the car to return the bowls. The door was still open, the light still on, but there were no signs of anyone having returned.

Zhao Kaile quickly washed the bowls and put them back in their original place. When he went out, he looked left and right like a thief to see if anyone was paying attention to his actions, then slowed his pace nonchalantly and returned to the set.

The night shoot began. The director gave a few instructions into the walkie-talkie, and lighting, camera, and props were all in position.

First scene. Yu Wenrong sat at the table, frowning, his expression anxious as he looked at something. The lighting gradually dimmed. A moment later, his pupils trembled, one hand painfully clutching his hair, the rims of his eyes slightly red, his throat rolling, gradually letting out a low growl.

Everyone present was captivated by his performance. Zhao Kaile’s heart tightened, silently thinking, wow, wow, as expected of a Film Emperor, tears really do come on command!

Seconds later, several drops of tears slowly slid down Yu Wenrong’s cheeks. He flipped one hand over, covering his own eyes, crying so hard his whole body shook, grieving as if he had lost someone dear and beloved in his life.

The director gestured to the cameraman, signaling him not to cut the camera, keep filming.

Yu Wenrong’s state indeed hadn’t passed. He couldn’t stop crying, muttering that person’s name. While grieving to the extreme, he also had to fiercely suppress the surging emotions given by his professional sense of mission. He clenched one fist, performing this sense of contradiction to perfection.

Zhao Kaile looked up. Zhan Hang was already in position waiting, his eyes locked dead on Yu Wenrong, clearly also having been stirred up emotionally.

The director still didn’t call cut.

Zhan Hang raised his hand to knock on the door. Yu Wenrong tried his best to rein in his emotions, hastily wiping away the tears on his face, and said hoarsely: “Enter.”

“Reporting to Company Commander.” Zhan Hang hesitated a moment, and said softly: “You…”

“Say your piece.” Yu Wenrong said coldly.

However, when he said this line, his voice wasn’t controlled well, and one word slightly cracked. But it wasn’t too obvious, at least the two people present hadn’t broken character yet.

Zhao Kaile was watching nervously when the director suddenly called cut.

“…”

This got cut too?!!

Zhao Kaile thought in disbelief, the atmosphere was built up so well and this got cut too?! It’s just one word, can’t they just dub it in post?!

“The emotion in this line isn’t right.” The director said to the two of them: “One more take. Also, Zhan Hang, don’t be so tense. In front of others you’re soldiers from the same regiment, behind closed doors you’re master and disciple. A disciple seeing his own master, don’t make that expression.”

He hit the nail on the head, walked forward two steps himself, and started acting out the scene for Yu Wenrong.

Zhao Kaile watched dumbfounded, thinking to himself, looks like this director really does have some skills, not just for show.

The artists rehearsed take after take inside the set. Assistants and staff stood outside watching, wrapped tight in their coats. In the corner, several were already yawning repeatedly. Some small extras who had waited all day without getting any scenes were taking the chance to close their eyes and catch some sleep in chairs, a picture of misery.

Second night scene. Zhan Hang and another young male artist playing a new recruit got into a conflict. The two went back and forth, arguing so loudly that soldiers passing by after finishing their drills came over to watch the spectacle. Yu Wenrong and a colleague passed by from the side, saw this, and came up to directly give Zhan Hang a kick. Zhan Hang let out a muffled grunt, immediately kneeling to the ground from the kick. When he looked up, he stared hatefully at the nemesis opposite him, then looked back at Yu Wenrong, seeming very puzzled.

That kick landed solidly on Zhan Hang’s body, practically making Zhao Kaile’s heart tremble with it. He screamed inwardly, Yu Wenrong couldn’t you have gone a little lighter?!

The director squinted as he watched Zhan Hang’s expression for a while, then called cut again. He went up and gestured animatedly: “Zhan Hang, your eyes are too sharp. Toward a soldier from the same year, you should hate, be dissatisfied, be angry. But toward your elder, your master, your eyes should show grievance, injustice, and then just a bit of hatred. Can you understand?”

Zhan Hang stood up and took a moment to recover, then nodded to indicate he understood.

Yu Wenrong went over and asked: “You okay, Zhan Hang? Did it hurt?”

“Nothing.” Zhan Hang moved the corner of his mouth: “I can take it.”