Author: 反舌鸟 / Mockingbird
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 20
Xu Ye voiced her suspicion. “When I went to your place before, I noticed cigarette butts several times. You don’t smoke, and you’re an anti-smoking ambassador. It’s unlikely that just a regular friend would smoke in front of you. Also… you’ve nearly replaced everyone on your team except for me.”
At first, she thought Yu Ruoyun had some dissatisfaction with her, but he never acted further on it. Once she realized almost all were Jiang Yu’s studio people, Xu Ye became even more puzzled.
“They’re quite capable, aren’t they?” Yu Ruoyun chuckled at the memory. “They have lots of marketing connections, for instance.”
Jiang Yu’s rise to fame was far more arduous than Yu Ruoyun’s. Few could debut as the male lead in their first film like Yu Ruoyun. Jiang Yu started as a minor character in TV dramas and achieved fame almost on par with Yu Ruoyun. Part of this was due to Jiang Yu’s relentless effort, working nearly every day of the year, seamlessly moving from one project to the next, even appearing on New Year’s TV shows. Part of it was also due to his team’s effective publicity, turning an eight into a ten and consistently keeping his name in the public eye, often alongside Yu Ruoyun’s. Jiang Yu never committed any serious mistakes. Even his temper could be marketed as genuine, a mix of praise and criticism that kept him relevant.
“So it really was him?” Xu Ye confirmed once more.
“Yes,” Yu Ruoyun replied.
Xu Ye sighed. “If this were before, I might have had something to say to you. But now, I don’t even know how to start. Ruoyun, I understand how you feel, but Jiang Yu is dead. You don’t need to…”
“Maybe he’s not,” Yu Ruoyun said softly. “Seeing is believing. I never saw it, so it might not be true.”
Xu Ye initially wanted to tell Yu Ruoyun he didn’t need a low-grade stand-in for Jiang Yu, just for a slight resemblance. But after Yu Ruoyun said that, she didn’t continue.
She remembered when Jiang Yu died, Yu Ruoyun was abroad. She didn’t think much of it at the time, feeling some regret but seeing no connection to Yu Ruoyun. She just mentioned to Yu Ruoyun that they should send a condolence wreath. Yu Ruoyun replied quickly, “No need.”
She explained it wasn’t about personally going, just leaving his name, but Yu Ruoyun reiterated, “No need.”
Fine, no need then. Xu Ye gave up. After all, there were plenty of elegiac couplets wishing Jiang Yu a smooth journey to the afterlife; it wouldn’t miss Yu Ruoyun’s contribution. Jiang Yu’s death was a hot topic for several days, with the media digging into his past, but it soon blew over. Some people trended on social media, some fell in love, some played Honor of Kings and chewed gum on set. The entertainment industry and the world kept spinning, unchanged.
But for Yu Ruoyun, it wasn’t the same. If Jiang Yu had truly been with Yu Ruoyun, then Yu Ruoyun’s outward normalcy was the most abnormal thing. Returning as scheduled, completing pre-arranged work, hanging out with friends during breaks, discussing investment projects, and taking his dog to the vet.
Xu Ye had managed Yu Ruoyun for almost twenty years. He had reshaped her entire life. Back when the mainland entertainment industry was still immature, everything was in a state of exploration. Yu Ruoyun’s family feared he’d suffer as a minor, so they sought someone to look after him. Eventually, Xu Ye, a distant cousin who didn’t excel academically but had gone to art school and entered the workforce early, was chosen. With a bit more experience than others, she transitioned to being Yu Ruoyun’s agent. She endured many hardships but never suffered any grievance from Yu Ruoyun, who never made unreasonable demands and was always strategic about his career. Xu Ye later started her own company, branching into other industries, and Yu Ruoyun had helped her considerably.
“Ruoyun,” Xu Ye said, “Maybe I’m getting old and nostalgic. Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about the past. Do you remember when you went to Hong Kong to shoot a movie?”
That was quite a while ago, when Hong Kong cinema was declining but still far more developed than the mainland market, boasting a more professional film industry. Co-productions were mostly Hong Kong crews with mainland actors, but under those circumstances, there were occasional unpleasant experiences.
“That seems to be the first time I saw you get angry. In the crew, there was a supporting actress with a significant role who was also from the mainland. There was a guy in the camera crew, just a track pusher, who always made fun of her, calling her ‘Beigu*’. She didn’t understand and asked what ‘Beigu’ meant. He laughed, and the other men laughed too, saying, ‘You’re from the north, a northern girl, right? Beigu.’ She was so naive that she believed it. When they were eating, the guy called her that again, and she responded. You were sitting next to her, stood up, took a bottle of wine, and walked over. People thought you were going to toast him. As soon as he raised his glass, you poured the entire bottle over his head.”
*Northern Girl. It’s a derogatory term that was historically used to refer to women from Northern China who came to Hong Kong or Macau to work as prostitutes. It’s considered outdated and not commonly used, which is probably why the actress didn’t know the negative connotation behind it.
“That was a long time ago,” Yu Ruoyun said.
“I never knew what you said to him, but he came out and apologized to the girl. When I asked you what happened, you said, ‘I used to wonder why anyone would care about others’ opinions. Now I know no one can truly ignore them.’”
That was when Xu Ye realized Yu Ruoyun was human, capable of empathy and impulsive actions, because he too had been looked down upon despite doing nothing wrong. Early fame brought harsher criticism from the public, who enjoyed watching a prodigy’s potential downfall. No matter how diligently Yu Ruoyun worked on his films, there were always detractors until he won a second Best Actor award, which gradually silenced them. So much pressure, yet Yu Ruoyun rarely showed it unless it became a burden to progress, allowing Xu Ye to see that even a perfect statue could have cracks.
“Ruoyun,” Xu Ye asked softly, “Are you very sad?”
Have you still not accepted Jiang Yu’s death?
But Yu Ruoyun seemed to read her mind. “I don’t need a psychologist.”
He said, “Maybe I needed one before, but not now. I’ll be fine.”
He thought about how Long Xingyu had accepted his key. He never gave Jiang Yu a key, believing he’d always be there to open the door for him.
Now, whenever Jiang Yu wanted to come, whether he was there or not, Jiang Yu could freely enter his world.
The author has something to say:
“Beigu” refers to mainland Chinese women working as sex workers in Hong Kong, as seen in the movie “Golden Chicken”. According to CEPA regulations, the proportion of main creators from Hong Kong in co-productions is not limited, but mainland actors must account for no less than one-third of the main cast.
<<< || Table of Contents || >>>
Kinky Translations 