Chapter Sixty-Three: Remember Every Moment in Life That Moves You

“I didn’t say anything just now, did I?” Lin Zhiling tilted her head, looking genuinely puzzled. How could someone like her, who was little more than a pretty face, possibly have the ability to coach actors?

Guo Fan, standing nearby, interjected, “Maybe it was something you said that inspired Director Chen. Let's ask him after he’s done.”

The others nodded in silent agreement, all thinking the same thing—maybe they could learn something from Chen Ling when the opportunity arose. In the short time they’d been working together, his acting had already earned the respect of the entire crew.

At this point, the only one in the cast who might dare claim better acting skills than Chen Ling was Xu Zheng, and as for the group of gangsters who hadn’t yet appeared on set, no one knew what they were capable of, so they weren’t counted.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” Chen Ling asked, wiping tears from his eyes with a tissue handed to him by a crew member. He was still trying to shake off the lingering emotion from his performance.

Even seasoned actors can’t always snap out of such intense scenes right away—otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many stories in the industry about actors who get too deeply into character, or about couples forming on set.

The way everyone’s eyes followed him made Chen Ling feel a little uneasy. What was going on?

“Director, what did Sister Zhiling say to you just now that made your crying scene so powerful?” Guo Fan voiced the question on everyone’s mind.

“So that’s what you’re curious about.” Chen Ling took a sip of water from a bottle handed to him, then met their eager gazes. “Zhiling’s words gave me some inspiration. I wrote the script, but my own life experience isn’t enough for me to fully inhabit the character. So I have to find another way.”

“What way is that?” Liu Yifei cut in at just the right moment, sensing Chen Ling was about to tease them. She was just as curious as the others—if she could learn his secret, it would be a huge advantage for her. Who knows, with enough practice, she might even win Best Actress one day.

“Remember every moment in your life that ever truly moved you, and tuck it away in the depths of your heart. Then, when the time comes, you can draw on it. Only emotions you’ve really experienced have the power to move others.”

Everyone nodded in agreement—it made perfect sense.

“You’re only twenty years old. How many moving moments could you have possibly had?” Liu Yan’s voice snapped the group out of their contemplation.

That’s right, they suddenly remembered—he was just twenty. Over the past few weeks, Chen Ling’s maturity had almost made them forget his age. But when they thought about it, how could someone so young have such a wealth of emotional experience? Every moving moment? That had to be nonsense.

Chen Ling didn’t answer Liu Yan’s question. Instead, he lowered his head and took a drink of water—there was no way to respond! He couldn’t exactly say that in his previous life, he’d had a wealth of experience: started businesses, released albums, shot indie films, lost his family fortune and worked to pay off debts, and now he’d been reborn, his life overflowing with moving moments. How could he say any of that?

“He probably thought of his first love and filled in the gaps with his imagination,” someone said.

“Pfft—cough, cough—”

Chen Ling decided then and there never to confide in Liu Yifei again—her mouth was just too loose.

“What do you mean, ‘filled in the gaps with his imagination’? That’s nonsense!” He would never admit it, not even if his life depended on it.

“What’s going on? First love?”

“Yifei, tell us more!”

The group’s curiosity burned brightly; their eyes shone like little lightbulbs as they waited for Liu Yifei to spill more details. Even Liu Yan looked intrigued—she had just confirmed with Chen Ling yesterday that he’d dated Jing Tian, but to find out she was his first love? That was a bombshell!

“I didn’t say anything,” Liu Yifei quickly said, clapping her hand over her mouth. She might have blurted something out a moment ago, but she wasn’t about to keep making the director look bad. Still, with so many gossip-hungry onlookers, who knew how long she could keep the secret?

As expected, that evening after filming, when they returned to the inn for dinner, Guo Fan sidled over with a look of pure gossip. “Director, you’re something else.”

Chen Ling, eating in the courtyard, looked at him in confusion.

“For a girl, you wrote songs and even made a movie. Impressive. If I had even half your skills, I wouldn’t have been single all these years.”

“‘Love Is Not Blind’ wasn’t made for her,” Chen Ling protested.

“I was talking about ‘Breakup Buddies.’”

“Where’s Liu Yifei?” Chen Ling put down his chopsticks, ready to confront her. In less than half a day, she’d nearly spilled all his secrets.

“She’s on the second-floor terrace with Liu Yan and Lin Zhiling,” Guo Fan replied, eager to throw his teammate under the bus as soon as he sensed Chen Ling’s temper rising.

Thump, thump, thump—Chen Ling marched up the stairs toward the terrace. The three women were eating together at a small table. When Liu Yifei saw him coming straight for her, she knew she was in trouble and tried to get up and run. But seeing there was nowhere to go, she half-stood, then sat back down.

“Weren’t you just trying to run? Why’d you stop?” Chen Ling sat down heavily next to Liu Yifei, fixing her with an expressionless stare and a calm voice.

“Who’s running? I’ve got a clear conscience—I haven’t done anything wrong, so why should I run?” Liu Yifei ducked her head, pretending to dig into her food. Her voice was loud enough, but the guilt was obvious—her words didn’t match her demeanor at all.

“From now on, I definitely can’t share any secrets with you,” Chen Ling muttered through clenched teeth, itching to give her a piece of his mind. But then he remembered that Liu Yifei knew some martial arts—if it came to blows, she might actually beat him.

“Fine, don’t. Who cares?” she retorted.

“What happened?” Liu Yan asked, unable to make sense of the tension between the two of them.

“Director, is it true? Are your album and this movie both about your ex-girlfriend?” Lin Zhiling’s voice was sugary sweet, and the source of her information was obvious—besides Liu Yifei, Chen Ling didn’t suspect anyone else.

“So that’s what this is about? Junior, you’re really talented,” Liu Yan chimed in, giving Chen Ling a thumbs-up.

Well, clearly everyone knew now. There was no point in continuing the conversation.

“Director Chen, Sister Zhixi is looking for you.” Before Chen Ling could say anything more, his assistant ran over, phone in hand.

“She said there’s no need to call back—she’s waiting for you in her room. She’s got the information you asked for.”

“Alright, I’ll head over now.” Chen Ling took the phone from his assistant. During filming, his phone was usually with her anyway.

Once Chen Ling had gone, Liu Yifei glanced up to make sure he was out of earshot, then immediately leaned toward the other two and resumed gossiping. Chen Ling could only resign himself to it; after all, anyone who made the effort could easily dig up his past.

When Chen Ling entered the room, Chen Zhixi was standing by the printer, waiting for documents. The rooms assigned to directors and producers were always suites, with a separate office area.

When she saw him, Chen Zhixi handed over the printouts. “Director Chen, here’s the detailed information I’ve compiled on films released during the Spring Festival this year, along with data on the past five years’ Spring Festival box office, including individual film earnings and the Spring Festival’s share of the annual box office.”

Chen Ling flipped through the documents—it all matched his memory well enough.

“So, what’s your conclusion?” he asked, setting the files aside. He was more interested in hearing her analysis than in the numbers themselves.