Chapter Thirty: Fainted While Acting as an Extra

Song Nian'an looked at the photos on her phone screen and hesitated for a moment whether to tell Wen Jing about being an extra today.

Sending a WeChat message saying, "Honey~ I went to work as an extra on a film set today," feels a bit like showing off, and makes me seem too childish.

I don't say anything, and I feel like we're not very close. When I go home, I always feel like I've done something wrong, like I've been hiding something from him.

Why have we become so cautious when chatting? We're afraid of saying too much, afraid of saying the wrong thing, and even more afraid of running out of things to say.

He paused his swiping on his phone, then tapped on Wen Jing's profile picture at the top of his screen. On a whim, he posted a selfie.

This is probably the worst possible solution.

Wen Jingzheng had just finished a meeting and returned to his office when he saw the WeChat message from "Dear Little Mr."

They rarely chatted after adding each other on WeChat. Either Song Nian'an accompanied him to work, or they were already inseparable, so there was no need to use WeChat.

Either he's busy, or he doesn't reply to your message.

Wen Jing stared at the large head on his phone, zooming in repeatedly to admire it.

He visited various places and listened to Song Nian'an's innermost "cautious" thoughts.

I noticed a familiar figure on the steps behind the face in the selfie, also staring at him taking the selfie.

Wen Jing replied, "I understand," and then locked her phone and stuffed it into her coat pocket.

After briefly explaining the remaining tasks to my secretary and assistant, I drove to the school.

Sunlight streamed down through the soft clouds. Although it was autumn, the weather was still muggy and the blazing sun made people drowsy.

The staff were busy working, sweating profusely, with veins bulging on their foreheads from the sun.

The outdoor set is finally set up.

Song Nian'an had seven or eight books stuffed into his elbow. This scene was filmed as him rushing into the library with the books to grab a seat in the study room.

All he had to do was run with a few other classmates from the entrance to the grove to the library, and his role as an extra was complete; after that, he was done.

Song Nian'an was starving. She had only eaten a piece of bread in the morning, and this physical labor was a bit too much for her.

The director reshot this simple scene at least ten times.

Everyone, from the staff to the extras running alongside, was starting to feel the strain.

They had to show the enthusiasm to grab a seat, ensure that Song Nian'an was the first one to run in, and really sprint like lightning.

The director was coaxed by Shen Zhuangyue, who was sitting next to him, to reshoot the scene again and again, just to win the beauty's approval.

Under the blazing sun, Song Nian'an, who had run so far and so many times, was already exhausted. He gritted his teeth until fine beads of sweat trickled down his neck.

Even though Song Nian'an knew that it was Shen Zhuangyue, that green tea bitch, who was messing with him, he didn't lose his temper with the staff and director.

Until that last time he ran to the library, he used all his strength to breathe, panting, and suddenly felt dizzy, nauseous, and wanted to vomit.

With a thud, Song Nian'an fainted.

Only then did the director realize how unprofessional he had been, being led by the nose and giving wrong instructions.

The director took off his headphones and ran over, his palms sweating. If a scandal involving the bullying of extras were reported during filming, it would be a huge disaster.

A figure landed, and Wen Siyan wrapped one arm around his arm from behind, lifted his leg with the other, and carried him to the infirmary.

Shen Zhuangyue looked up and her heart skipped a beat.

Wen Siyan's gaze was cold and cruel, as if he wanted to skin her alive.

Even a clueless person could see that Shen Zhuangyue was making things difficult for the college student extra. Previously, Song Nian'an's makeup artist had also spoken up for him.

“I overheard it when we were filming interior scenes. I asked the director to remove the floor mat for him so he would actually fall. What a malicious thought that was.”

The prop master asked curiously, "Do they have some kind of grudge?"

He's placed those items in front of the library under the blazing sun more than a dozen times already; he's about to collapse from the heat. Not to mention the college students running alongside him, they'd practically turn into dried-out husks from the sun.

An extra approached him, saying, "I know, I know," while the people around him stared at him with wide eyes.

He continued, "Do you know why the scene with Song Nian'an was filmed before the interior shots were even finished?"

Everyone: "I don't know."

"Our Miss Shen went to fawn over Professor Wen, but Professor Wen remained unmoved, turned around and led Song Nian'an away. Can you believe how angry he was!"

Everyone: "Angry!"

Director: "What are you all doing standing around like this? Are you not going to film anymore? Let's continue."

Everyone: "The director is here."

They exchanged knowing glances, as if they'd just heard something.

The director instructed his assistant to tell each staff member and extra not to say anything about what happened today.

He went over to Shen Zhuangyue and kindly reminded her not to let other things affect her professionalism.

Shen Zhuangyue continued to feign innocence, emphasizing that she was doing it for the sake of the filming effect and had no personal grudges.

The director sighed inwardly. He had acting skills, but he had used them in the wrong place.

After the incident of an extra fainting, the director and actors stopped causing trouble, and filming went smoothly.

The director also kept Song Nian'an's two scenes, and looking back, the effect was actually quite good.

In the infirmary, Song Nian'an woke up from her bed, feeling completely drained and weak.

He struggled to sit up, with a syringe still inserted in his hand. He looked up and saw glucose.

My throat felt parched, and just as I was about to look for water, I caught a glimpse of "Introduction to Design" on the bedside table, along with a glass of steaming water.

Song Nian'an's thoughts were in disarray. He had just fainted while running and was in a daze. He vaguely remembered that someone had carried him away.

"Awake? Have some water." Wen Siyan brought in a straw, put it in a glass of water, and handed it to him to feed him. "Don't drink too much at once, drink slowly."

Song Nian'an was stunned, but still said "Thank you".

I thought Wen Siyan had changed his personality and was showing signs of improvement.

But a madman will always be a madman.

Wen Siyan pulled out Song Nian'an's syringe, grabbed his hand, and squeezed his originally well-defined fingers until they were engorged with blood. Blood flowed from the veins on the back of his hand, causing Song Nian'an to clench his teeth in pain, his brows furrowed.

Wen Siyan grabbed Song Nian'an by the neck, roughly lifted her chin and said, "My carrying you here doesn't mean I'm letting you go. It's just that my things can't be bullied by others so easily."

Song Nian'an snorted coldly and spoke slowly and deliberately, her tone no less forceful than Wen Siyan's: "Then I'll tell you again, I am Wen Jing's wife, your aunt."

After saying that, he coughed twice. It's really uncomfortable to have someone choking you.

Song Nian'an kept calling Wen Jing's name in his heart, hoping that Wen Jing would come and take him home.

The blood seeping from the back of her fair hand dripped onto the bed, looking truly vivid.

Wen Siyan released his grip, regaining his composure.

Taking advantage of the break, Song Nian'an hugged her neck and breathed heavily.

Before the two could catch their breath, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside, and Wen Jing burst in.

His face was somber, and his eyes held a deep, cold intensity.