The next day, Shu Nian left home half an hour earlier than the specified time. The character she was voicing didn’t have many lines, so she completed all her work in less than two hours.
Li Qing was quite satisfied with her and had her try voicing another small girl character.
Creating a fake voice was not difficult for voice actors.
Shu Nian made some adjustments, raising her pitch, emphasizing the nasal sounds, and making her voice sound more childish. With only a few lines, it was just a minor role, and she passed it directly.
This was her daily routine.
Meeting Xie Ruhe again.
For her, it was like walking down the street and suddenly hearing a song with a beautiful melody. After going home, wanting to listen to that song again, but not remembering the lyrics, trying everything possible but never finding the song again.
It was a brief interlude that, once passed, would never be encountered again.
In the long, monotonous days, there needed to be some surprises.
Meeting him again, regardless of how it happened, was still something that made Shu Nian happy.
Even if he seemed unhappy.
Shu Nian had thought about sending him a text message to ask why he was suddenly unhappy. She pondered for a long time, picking up her phone and putting it down, then picking it up again.
In the end, she gave up.
She felt that this intersection of their lives didn’t need to be prolonged.
He wasn’t willing. And she no longer had as much enthusiasm to expend as before.
“Young Master.”
Fang Wencheng stood at the doorway, habitually knocking three times, though he knew Xie Ruhe probably couldn’t hear. He called out again, then pushed the door open.
The room was soundproof, so only a faint sound could be heard from outside. But as soon as the door opened, deafening rock music burst out.
It was almost ear-splitting.
Inside, the lighting was dim. The wooden floor had no furniture except for speakers, making the room look empty. On the ground were neat domino tiles, compulsively arranged in a specific pattern.
Several dozen mango candies were scattered around.
Xie Ruhe wore a loose hoodie with long sleeves. His collarbones were exposed, giving him a dejected air. A wheelchair was placed nearby. He sat on the floor, lazily setting up dominoes.
Fang Wencheng walked to the speakers and turned off the music, then said, “Young Master, have you written the theme song for Huajing’s film that you promised earlier? They called to ask about it.”
Xie Ruhe gave a barely audible “mm.”
Fang Wencheng said, “Good.”
Having no other business, Fang Wencheng was about to turn the speakers back on and leave the room when Xie Ruhe suddenly spoke up: “Tell Huajing that I’ll specify the singer, and I’ll write the promotional song for them as well.”
Hearing this, Fang Wencheng was stunned. “But they didn’t request—”
Xie Ruhe’s expression remained unchanged as he continued, “No charge. If they’re not satisfied, they can change it.”
Fang Wencheng found this strange.
This was the first time Xie Ruhe had offered to let others modify his songs; normally, he would get angry at the mere suggestion. But Fang Wencheng didn’t ask further. “Alright, which singer do you want to specify? I’ll communicate with them.”
“The theme song is sung by the female supporting character in the film,” Xie Ruhe said, looking down, his slender fingers picking up a domino tile and gently placing it in position. “So let’s use the voice actress for the female supporting role.”
Fang Wencheng thought he had misheard. “Voice actress?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t seem right.” Fang Wencheng advised, “I think it’s more appropriate to find a singer. The two don’t necessarily have to be the same person. Voice acting and singing can be separate. The songs you write aren’t easy to master; you should find a professional.”
Otherwise, they’ll be berated to death trying to sing it the way you want.
Xie Ruhe was insistent. “Just the voice actress.”
Knowing he wouldn’t listen to persuasion, Fang Wencheng’s expression became troubled. “Besides, this is a film. They usually don’t use voice actors; they record on set. If there’s too much background noise that can’t be used, they’ll have the actors themselves dub it in post-production.”
After being rejected multiple times, Xie Ruhe suddenly looked up, staring at him silently.
Fang Wencheng immediately dropped his troubled expression and cleared his throat twice.
“I’ll go ask first.”
Fang Wencheng left the room and called the film company to relay Xie Ruhe’s message.
Not long after, he returned to the room.
“They agreed.” Fang Wencheng breathed a sigh of relief. “They agreed quickly. They said they were planning to find a voice actress for the female supporting role anyway, because the actress playing the role has poor line delivery, and her voice doesn’t match the character’s design in the film.”
Seeing that Xie Ruhe didn’t respond, Fang Wencheng continued, “So will you select the voice actress, or will the production team choose?”
“Tell them to find a voice directing director named Li Qing.” Xie Ruhe’s voice was flat. “Have him find some people to audition. We need fresher voices with solid dubbing skills.”
“Alright,” said Fang Wencheng. “Any other requirements?”
Xie Ruhe lowered his eyelids again. “Notify me about the audition day. I’ll go too.”
“…” This time Fang Wencheng couldn’t hold back, even though he knew the young master’s temperament was poor and unpredictable. “Young Master, what are you going there for?”
Xie Ruhe didn’t answer.
—What was he going there for?