All loving unions, impermanent, cannot last long. Life is filled with fear; a life more fragile than morning dew.
From love arises sorrow; from love arises fear. For one who is free from love, there is neither sorrow nor fear.
— The Diamond Sutra
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Just before dawn, Nan Chu jolted awake from a dream, her body drenched in cold sweat.
The room was unlit, the curtains drawn tight, everything pitch black. She pushed herself up and leaned against the headboard, reaching out to feel for the cigarettes and lighter on the nightstand.
Scritch — a flame flickered to life in the darkness, then quickly died. Smoke drifted and spread; the ember at her fingertip pulsed between bright and dim.
Nan Chu smoked, her eyes half-closed, thinking.
After a moment, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and tapped out a few quick words.
“I dreamed about him again.”
It was four-thirty in the morning. The reply came fast: “What were you dreaming about him doing?”
“Making love.”
“Stop overthinking. You’re just pent up — you need a man.”
Nan Chu read it calmly, cursed at the phone under her breath, tossed it aside, leaned back against the headboard, and closed her eyes. She began replaying the dream.
A man, bare-bodied. Bronze skin. Muscles taut, lines clean and fluid. A buzz cut — short, jet-black hair. And those eyes: seemingly effortless, yet deep and fathomless.
……
At six-ten, her manager Shen Guanzong arrived with an assistant. “Get up, time for makeup.”
Nan Chu climbed out of bed and bent down to find her slippers. Shen Guanzong kicked one over to her. “You’re joining the crew today. Have Xi Gu help you pack up.”
As he said it, he nudged a young girl forward.
Nan Chu squinted at her while slipping on her shoes. An unfamiliar face. She said lazily, “New?”
Nan Chu had originally worked as a model. Earlier that year, she’d been signed by Jiahe. She wasn’t particularly famous, and she’d already gone through three or four assistants — it was unclear whether the previous ones simply hadn’t gotten along with her, or whether Nan Chu herself was just difficult to work with.
“Intern assistant and makeup artist.”
Shen Guanzong had done nothing for the past three months except hunt for assistants on her behalf. Just thinking about it made his blood boil. He rolled his eyes and warned her: “Could you please try to get along with people? Is that too much to ask?”
An assistant who was also a makeup artist — after all, you couldn’t find a deal that good anywhere else.
Nan Chu shrugged and studied the young girl for a moment. Straight-cut bangs, a baby-doll top and short skirt. She asked pleasantly, “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“What’s your name?”
“Xi Gu.” The girl answered each question honestly and directly.
Nan Chu raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Xi Gu blinked, caught off guard by such directness. “Not… yet.”
“You look so little.” The girl was still quite shy — a single compliment and her face went red. Nan Chu pinched her cheek. “Off you go.”
Xi Gu, unable to handle the teasing, fled with a flushed face.
Shen Guanzong finished his phone call and turned around. Seeing this, he assumed Nan Chu had pulled some mischief again. He puffed up and shouted, “Director Han personally found her for you — if you scare her off, I really won’t be responsible for you anymore!”
Nan Chu spread her hands. “What are you getting worked up about? I’m not going to eat her.”
Xi Gu, still packing Nan Chu’s bag, quickly looked back. “Guanzong-ge, Nan Chu-jiejie is really very nice.”
Nan Chu winked at her.
The girl truly couldn’t handle being teased and didn’t dare look at Nan Chu again.
“I don’t care about the rest of it — I just ask one thing: stop picking fights with Director Han. If you really push him too far and he blacklists you, can you even survive in this industry?”
Nan Chu tossed her lipstick into her makeup bag, checked herself in the mirror, pressed her lips together a couple of times, and said, “Sure.”
Two clean, crisp syllables — yet somehow they made Shen Guanzong’s skin crawl.
Just before heading out the door, Xi Gu was pulling the suitcase when Nan Chu suddenly said, “Hold on.” She turned back into the room, pulled something from the nightstand drawer, and told Xi Gu to open the suitcase.
Xi Gu held the pack of condoms, unsure where to put them, until she heard from above: “Tuck them in the side pocket.”
Xi Gu did as she was told, blushing furiously, then quickly zipped the suitcase shut.
Only then did Nan Chu say with satisfaction: “Let’s go.”
Later, in the car, Nan Chu explained to Xi Gu: “If someone drags you into the bushes and assaults you, and you can’t escape — what do you do?”
“……”
“Hand him a condom. Safer than anything else.”
Xi Gu: “……”
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Three days into joining the crew, and even Xi Gu could see it — the cast still hadn’t fully assembled, and this was a thoroughly unprofessional production.