Chapter 46 General Kitchen Category?
Crew, temporary lounge.
Wu Suowei sat on a plastic stool, holding a few sheets of printed paper in his hands, his eyes fixed, and he didn't turn the page for a long time.
On the paper are the scenes to be filmed today.
Little Fish, Big Thunder, and the honeymoon period.
The words were like tiny needles, pricking his temples and making them jump.
Love? Kitchen play?
This bastard Chi Cheng... definitely did it on purpose!
Wu Suowei slammed the script on his knee in annoyance, making a soft "pa" sound.
In my mind were still Jiang Xiaoshuai’s words last night, and Chi Cheng’s words “I miss you” when he squatted beside the bed in the morning.
It’s a mess. Too messy.
He was angry at him for lying and blamed him for playing tricks on him, but the scene of Huang Long being killed was forced into his mind... It made him feel very upset.
The door was pushed open with a creaky sound.
Wu Suowei didn't need to look up; he knew who was coming just by the oppressive aura.
His back tensed instantly, and his fingers gripped the script so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Chi Cheng walked in and closed the door behind him.
He changed into a clean black T-shirt, shaved his chin, and the redness in his eyes faded a little, but that heavy and somewhat stubborn energy was still there.
He glanced at Wu Suowei's tense profile and the tightly clenched script, and he knew what was going on.
"Have you read the script?" Chi Cheng walked to the opposite side of him, pulled a stool and sat down, his voice neither too loud nor too low.
Wu Suowei said nothing, his eyes fixed on the script paper on his knees, as if flowers could bloom on it.
Chi Cheng didn't urge him, just looked at him.
The air was a little stagnant.
After a few seconds, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, twisting his fingers unconsciously.
"Let's... give it a try today?" His tone sounded quite normal, as if he was discussing a rehearsal.
Wu Suowei suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with a hint of wariness and barely suppressed anger: "What are you trying? What's there to try? Can't you just shoot it directly?"
Stay away from me! I'm annoyed when I see you now!
Chi Cheng seemed not to hear the sting in his words, and looked at him calmly: "If you are not in the right mood and force the shot, Brother Nian will call cut, and it will be a waste of time."
He paused and added, "It's also a waste of money."
He knew what Wu Suowei cared about.
money……
Wu Suowei choked.
The instinct from the depths of his soul made him instantly weigh the cost of NG reshoots.
He grabbed his hair in frustration and pushed the script towards Chi Cheng: "Okay, okay, okay! Try it! Hurry up!"
Get out of here after trying it!
Chi Cheng took the script, his gaze lingered on Wu Suowei's face for a moment, then he lowered his head to read the contents on the paper.
He pointed to one section: "From here on, turn your back to me and pretend to cut vegetables."
Wu Suowei pursed his lips, took a deep breath, then stood up reluctantly and walked to a table in the corner that served as a "stove", with his back to Chi Cheng.
He picked up an empty prop bowl from the table and pretended to cut the air.
He could clearly feel Chi Cheng's gaze on his back, making him feel uncomfortable.
Damn, hurry up!
I feel inexplicably irritated.
The footsteps approached, very light, stepping on Wu Suowei's tense nerves.
He could feel that familiar heat source approaching, very close.
Then, two strong and powerful arms passed through his waist and embraced him.
My back slammed into a hot, solid chest.
Wu Suowei's body stiffened and the prop bowl in his hand almost fell to the ground.
Really hug?!
Chi Cheng's body temperature burned his skin through the thin T-shirt, and the familiar, slightly cold breath enveloped him completely.
His heart was beating wildly in his chest, making his eardrums buzz.
Chi Cheng's chin was almost resting on his shoulder, his hot breath spraying on his sensitive earlobe. His voice was low, with a hint of deliberately subdued gentleness: "What delicious food are you making? I can smell the fragrance from far away."
She’s really thin…it hurts my hands when I hold her.
Chi Cheng tightened his arms, holding the person tighter in his arms, greedily absorbing the lost and regained touch.
Only he himself knew that the palm of his hand pressed against his waist was slightly sweaty.
The breath and touch were too aggressive, and alarm bells went off in Wu Suowei's mind.
The fear of the previous life, the deception of this life, and the panic of being forcibly imprisoned at this moment exploded in an instant.
Without thinking, he struggled almost instinctively, and his voice came out hard, full of resistance: "Slippers stewed in sheets, okay?!"
Let me go!
In the script, Xiaoyu was speaking with a coquettish and angry tone, but when Wu Suowei spoke, it sounded like a knife tempered with ice.
Chi Cheng's arms around him stiffened noticeably.
In the script, Da Lei should have said, "Murdering her own husband?", but Chi Cheng did not read the line immediately.
He felt the stiffness and resistance of the body in his arms, and that moment of struggle pierced him like a needle.
Still angry... or scared?
His throat tightened and his chin rubbed against his shoulder, as if to comfort him, but also as if to unconsciously possess him.
He tried to ignore the stinging pain in his heart and forced himself to return his attention to the script. He lowered his voice, trying to convey the threatening tone required by the script, but if he listened carefully, he could still hear a subtle hint of bitterness underneath: "Murdering your husband?"
Wu Suowei's scalp was numb from being rubbed by him, and the call of "dear husband" just added fuel to the fire.
He stiffened his neck, his voice cold and hard, completely deviating from the demeanor Xiaoyu should have in the script: "Who are you? I don't know you!"
Whose husband are you? Get out!
"Hmm?" Chi Cheng's tone rose dangerously.
This line ignited something suppressed in his heart.
It's time for Da Lei to scratch his itch in the script.
Chi Cheng took action almost immediately - he did not loosen his hand around Wu Suowei's waist, but his other hand quickly reached the sensitive part of his waist, and with a hint of punishment and venting, he scratched it lightly.
"Ah!" Wu Suowei was completely unprepared. His waist was one of the places he was most ticklish about.
An intense, uncontrollable tingling sensation instantly spread throughout my body.
He screamed in surprise, his body jerked, and he twisted desperately to avoid the restless hand.
"Stop... stop it! Chi Cheng, you bastard! Let go!" His voice changed in tone, filled with panic and exasperation.
Chi Cheng didn't let go, but held him tighter and scratched his waist twice quickly with his fingers.
Watching him twisting and hiding in his arms, his cheeks flushed slightly from the struggle and itchiness, and the corners of his eyes seemed to be oozing a little physiological moisture from the stimulation just now, the depression in Chi Cheng's heart strangely dissipated a little, and even a little bit of evil satisfaction arose.
Finally I feel a little angry.
He lowered his head, his lips almost touching the tip of his red ear. His voice was low and hoarse, with a strength that was not in the script, belonging to Chi Cheng himself: "What do you say? Do you recognize him?"
"I'm wrong, I'm wrong, I'm wrong!" Wu Suowei couldn't stand the itch any more. He just wanted that damn hand to stop. He begged for mercy with a tearful voice, "Stop it! I was wrong! Let go!"
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