Drifting on a String - Chapter 59
Chapter 59
When the male lead arrived, they had already been rehearsing for seven or eight days.
He was called the male lead, but he only had about ten minutes of stage time. He becomes entangled with Chen Piaopiao midway through the story, and then they separate. This is followed by a long process of severance and withdrawal, where the stage lights dim to a freezing point, a stark contrast to the scorching heat of when they were in love.
Chen Piaopiao would curl up and sleep on the stage, a full minute of stillness, while her understudy, projecting her inner self, performed a drowning sequence behind a giant glass tank.
The sound system only picked up Chen Piaopiao's breathing. One, two, three, four, five.
"Okay, that's good."
Tao Jin tapped the base of her left palm with the fingertips of her right hand, her gaze shifting to the side. "Yang Yi is here."
Yang Yi was the name of the male lead, a young theater actor who had just joined the People's Art Theatre. His fundamentals were solid, and he was highly talented and quick to learn. He had been recommended by industry veterans.
He wore a white T-shirt and simple rehearsal pants, and had set a bottle of mineral water to the side for himself. He first confirmed his mark, then went on stage. His every movement showed the physical discipline of a dance school graduate. He began with a crisp, slight bow and said, "Teacher Wu, I'm ready."
Then he walked in from the side of the stage. "Everyone must learn to lie in love. Some lies are at the beginning, some at the end. When you love the wrong person, you listen to their lies. When you love the right person, you listen to your own."
"Because in this world, there's no such thing as loving the right person."
Chen Piaopiao instantly understood why he was the male lead. Voice, delivery, physicality, expression—he excelled at them all.
His voice was like a built-in amplifier, resonant, broad, and with immense penetrating power, making the air vibrate slightly.
When she used to act in short dramas, they all knew there would be post-production dubbing. The sets were noisy—the rumbling of camera tracks, the bustle of the props team, the walkie-talkies coordinating actors' movements, and sometimes even onlookers pointing and commenting. The conditions were simply not suitable for synchronous sound recording. Besides, her own line delivery skills at the time meant the production team never even considered using her original voice.
Therefore, when acting, even if she mumbled through her lines, the director would say, "OK, cut."
Later, when she acted in a long-form web series, her line delivery was decent, and she had hoped to use her original voice. But the investors were ridiculous, insisting on hiring a voice actor for a certain role because that person's voice was supposedly "lucky" and could make the show a hit.
So, to this day, Chen Piaopiao didn't have a single project that used her original voice.
Just last week, Teacher Wu had pointed out directly that her line delivery lacked power, her enunciation had a slight southern accent, and her phrasing and emphasis lacked texture.
At the time, she didn't understand. How could phrasing have texture? After watching a few videos, she slowly figured out that line delivery was similar to writing; it required a combination of long and short sentences, and the control of tension and rhythm was what they called texture.
Yang Yi's delivery was impeccable, with perfect enunciation and excellent texture.
Chen Piaopiao froze for a moment, unable to continue the scene.
On a film set, if she flubbed her lines, she could laugh it off, and it might even be edited into the blooper reel for promotion. Sometimes, if there were too many NGs, they could even be made into parody videos. But the theater was different.
Perhaps because it was so quiet, and the people below were watching them with the eyes of craftsmen, she felt a sense of shame.
After several years in the industry, Chen Piaopiao was only now belatedly developing a sense of shame and reverence for acting.
She lowered her head to look at the script again, feigning concealment. In her peripheral vision, Tao Jin was watching her intently, arms crossed.
"Sorry, can we go again?" Chen Piaopiao steadied her breathing, put down the script, and said to Yang Yi.
"Sure, no problem."
Full of youthful energy, Yang Yi stepped back. He stood up straight, looking toward Tao Jin and Teacher Wu. Tao Jin nodded. Yang Yi took a light breath, stepped forward again, delivered his lines, and gazed at Chen Piaopiao with deep affection.
"Perhaps we don't need to love the right person at all. The object of love should be a pair of eyes upon waking in the morning, and a kiss amidst the neon lights after a night of intoxication."
Chen Piaopiao stepped forward, full of flirtatious charm. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze, both innocent and hazy, meeting Yang Yi's.
Then they were supposed to kiss. A stage kiss.
Yang Yi stepped forward, loosely wrapping his arms around her. Chen Piaopiao used her eyes as hooks, and amidst her swaying movements, she lightly pursed her lips.
Turn to the side. The script indicated the lights would dim.
Close eyes. The script indicated the music would fade.
Yang Yi's ears turned red. He forced himself to remain calm as he leaned in. Before making a move, he whispered repeatedly, "Sorry, sorry."
The colleagues below the stage started to laugh, and Teacher Wu laughed too. "Yang Yi, what are you doing?"
The two separated, and Yang Yi scratched his head. "I said it quietly. You could still hear that?"
"Your body language," Teacher Wu frowned. "Your body language just faltered, you know that?"
Yang Yi covered his face and rubbed it in anguish.
"What are you doing, being so dramatic," Arick joked. "The girl is being so composed."
Yang Yi's neck was beet red. He took a deep breath. "Again."
"I'm so sorry, so sorry." Yang Yi bowed to Chen Piaopiao, not daring to look at her.
"It's fine." Chen Piaopiao smiled. She had sometimes encountered co-stars who were shy about intimate scenes on set. She was fine, her face as calm as a breeze on the moon.
She had to admit, seeing the co-star who had just outshone her in every aspect of acting show a moment of weakness made her feel less defeated. Her own performance experience was finally helping a little; she had her own area of expertise.
During their second embrace, Yang Yi leaned in, casting a shadow across Chen Piaopiao's neck.
He was a bit stiff, fighting his own uncomfortable heartbeat as he held his face near Chen Piaopiao's chin, maintaining a distance of a few centimeters in a not-so-skilled stage kiss.
Chen Piaopiao skillfully turned her head, coordinating with him to move the staged part of the kiss into the audience's blind spot.
Teacher Wu let out a soft "tsk."
After the move was over, the two stood in a line. Yang Yi bit his upper lip and said, "Hiss… that was… not very good."
He had broken character, completely out of the moment.
Chen Piaopiao glanced at him. His face was as red as a dragon fruit. She suddenly remembered her grandma telling her not to film with men who have mango-faces in the future. Now she'd found a dragon fruit, and she wondered if Grandma would be satisfied.
Unable to hold it in, she looked down at the wooden floor and smiled, pursing her lips.
Sniffling, she swallowed her laughter and gave a low cough.
Below the stage, Teacher Wu ran her hands through her hair, mulling over their physical performance, about to offer some guidance.
Suddenly, she heard Tao Jin, who was leaning against the edge of a table, look down at her script and say softly, "Too stiff."
"It doesn't look good. Cut it."
She pressed the cap of the ballpoint pen with her thumb, the tip popped out, and she drew a circle on the script.
After drawing it, she habitually made a dot in a blank space.
Teacher Wu crossed her arms, thinking. Arick picked up a nearby script and flipped through it. Chen Piaopiao watched Tao Jin's gentle expression as she looked down, and her heart thumped.
It was as if the kiss had truly happened in the air.
Ten seconds later, Teacher Wu shook her head. "The male and female leads already have so little stage time together. If we cut this, the scene won't have enough tension."
"And the music is supposed to swell at this point," Fay added.
"Think of something else." Tao Jin blinked calmly and turned her face, letting Arick come up with a solution.
"I also think we can cut it," Arick said, staring at the script in contemplation. "The way they kiss is different from what I imagined. It's pretty awkward to watch."
It was very direct. Teacher Wu laughed.
Chen Piaopiao suddenly felt a small fire of irritation ignite at their relaxed expressions.
She had been working very hard these past few days—memorizing the script, practicing her lines, doing her homework—spending more time than anyone else because she could feel that the crew didn't really approve of her. She couldn't help it; her acting was indeed average, otherwise Zhuang He wouldn't have sent her here to learn.
In Xilou, the work came first. For the sake of a good stage presentation, everyone was very direct. It was normal for the directing team to point out that someone's movements were awkward, for the music team to be told their work sounded bad, or for the props team to be told something was ugly. If it wasn't good, it was changed. No one was overly sensitive.
Chen Piaopiao wasn't overly sensitive either, but she got hung up on Teacher Wu's laugh. Just a moment ago, she was saying that cutting the scene would reduce the tension.
But after laughing, she swallowed her words. It seemed like an admission that Chen Piaopiao and Yang Yi couldn't pull it off, that there was no other way, so they might as well cut it.
Chen Piaopiao didn't like this feeling. This was her profession too, and she was capable of performing the scene without it being cut.
She said, "I can make the kiss look better."
Tao Jin looked up, gazing at her.
"How?" Arick asked.
"He might not have much experience," Chen Piaopiao said, fluffing her hair. "I'll take the lead. The whole scene is about the female lead seducing the male lead anyway. If the man initiates, it doesn't fit the logic, which is why it's awkward."
"If I grasp his hand and lean in while holding his shoulder, it will look much better."
It seemed to make sense. Arick wanted to let her try.
He glanced at Tao Jin, but she didn't accept the suggestion. With her eyes lowered, she turned a page to look at what came next. "Cut it."
Chen Piaopiao hesitated, wanting to say more. After a brief pause, she asked, "Was there anything unreasonable about what I just said?"
Tao Jin didn't answer.
The flame inside Chen Piaopiao sizzled, about to burn its way up her throat. She had just mustered the courage to offer a professional opinion based on the scene's logic and flow. A normal person, even if they didn't accept it, would at least give a reason.
But Tao Jin had never taken her professionalism seriously.
Deep down, she didn't believe that Chen Piaopiao, an influencer who filmed short dramas, had any professionalism to speak of.
"I don't want to cut it." Chen Piaopiao stood center stage, opposing the crew's decision for the first time.
It was as if the air was threaded with needles and thread, pulled so taut that even the light seemed strained.
Arick and Fay exchanged a look of obvious surprise. Chen Piaopiao's tone was quite cold; she was on the verge of openly challenging them on stage.
The colleague squatting down to check the sound equipment couldn't help but assume the worst. This type of celebrity actress was indeed different from the theater people they usually worked with. They were a little afraid she would start acting like a diva.
No one spoke. The only sound was the sound team pulling cables.
"Slap."
Tao Jin tossed the script in her hand back onto the table. It was a small movement, but the toss was so casual it looked as if it had been gently thrown down.
She didn't look at Chen Piaopiao, only turning her head to look at Teacher Wu beside her.
She gave a slight movement of her right shoulder, smiled with a complex expression, and got up to leave.
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