Rebirth: A big star falls in love with me

"I want to act! I want to act!" Zhang Tianai exclaimed excitedly, "Thank you, Master! I will definitely act well!"

Seeing her happy expression, Zhang Yu felt a mix of emotions—he was once again exploiting other people's dreams and admiration to further his own game.

This realization disgusted him, but he couldn't stop.

When Zhang Yu returned to the Ming and Qing Palace at 2 PM, the film crew had already resumed work. In the Taihe Hall square, staff were busy setting up the scene, and the actors were preparing in the dressing room.

When Zhang Yu entered dressing room number two, he saw that Chen Chen had already finished her makeup. Today, she was wearing a moon-white embroidered plum blossom cheongsam, her hair was styled into an exquisite bun, and a white jade hairpin adorned her hair. She looked as elegant as a woman who had stepped out of an ancient painting. However, her eyes were somewhat red and swollen, clearly indicating that she had been crying.

Huang Ying was beside her, and when she saw Zhang Yu come in, her eyes were complicated.

"Director Zhang." Chen Chen stood up and greeted him politely but distantly.

"How are the preparations going?" Zhang Yu asked.

"Ready?" Chen Chen said. "Which scene are we filming today?"

"In the 123rd scene, Lin Shuwan bids farewell to Gu Jiangnan in the rain," Zhang Yu said. "This scene is very emotional; you need to portray the pain and resolve of loving someone you can't have."

"I understand." Chen Chen nodded, but his eyes were dim.

Looking at her, Zhang Yu felt a surge of intense emotion—he wanted to ask her why she was crying, to hug her, to tell her that everything would be alright. But he couldn't. Because he was the one who had made her cry.

“Chen Chen,” he finally said, “if you need to adjust your emotions, you can postpone the filming.”

"No need," Chen Chen shook his head. "I can act."

She spoke with conviction. Zhang Yu knew she was using acting to escape reality—it was always easier to suffer in a role than in reality.

"Okay, we'll start filming in half an hour." Zhang Yu said, then turned and left the dressing room.

As they reached the door, Huang Ying chased after them, calling out, "Zhang Yu."

Zhang Yu stopped in his tracks.

“Chen Chen went to the city this morning and saw the newspaper.” Huang Ying’s voice was very soft. “Entertainment Weekly published photos of you having dinner with Zeng Li, Gulnazar, and Meng Ziyi last night. The headline was ‘New Director Zhang Yu Meets with Three Beauties, Girlfriend Chen Chen Seems to Have Fallen Out of Favor.’”

Zhang Yu was shocked. He finally understood why Chen Chen had cried.

“Those reporters…” he said with a wry smile.

“It’s not just the reporters’ problem.” Huang Ying looked at him, her eyes filled with reproach. “Zhang Yu, what exactly are you doing? Chen Chen loves you so much, why are you hurting her?”

Zhang Yu remained silent. What could he say? That he had a mission he had to complete? That he needed to collect the Starshine Marks? That it was all out of necessity?

“Sister Huang Ying,” he finally said, “some things are not as simple as they seem on the surface.”

“What is it like?” Huang Ying asked. “Zhang Yu, I’ve known you for so many years and I’ve never seen you like this before. You’ve changed ever since we started filming ‘My Memories of Jiangnan.’ You’ve become complicated, indifferent, and… incomprehensible.”

She's right. Zhang Yu looked at her, this woman who cared for him like an older sister, his eyes filled with disappointment, worry, and confusion.

“Sister Huang Ying,” he said softly, “if I told you that I had my reasons for everything I did, would you believe me?”

“I believe you.” Huang Ying nodded. “But hardship is not a reason to hurt others. Zhang Yu, Chen Chen is a good girl, she deserves to be treated well. If you don’t love her anymore, let her go, don’t torture her like this.”

Zhang Yu felt a deep pain in his heart. He loved Chen Chen more than anyone else. But he couldn't let her go, because she was his starlight mark, one of the 108 he had to collect.

"I understand," was all he could say in the end.

Huang Ying looked at him and sighed, "Alright, you go ahead and do your work. I'm going to keep Chen Chen company."

She turned and went back to the dressing room. Zhang Yu stood in the corridor, motionless for a long time. Outside the window, the sky darkened, as if it were about to rain—perfect for the rain scene they were filming today.

Filming officially began at 3 PM.

The artificial rain system was activated, and the Taihe Hall Square was instantly shrouded in a misty rain. Chen Chen stood in the middle of the "street," holding an oil-paper umbrella. Her moon-white cheongsam was quickly soaked through in the rain, clinging to her body and outlining her slender yet graceful figure. Her long hair was wet, with a few strands sticking to her cheeks, adding to her charming and delicate appearance.

Lu Yuan, playing Gu Jiangnan, walked from the other end, also holding an umbrella. The two met in the rain, their eyes meeting.

“Action!” Zhang Yu shouted.

“Mr. Gu…” Chen Chen began, his voice trembling slightly, “I have to go. My father is seriously ill, and I must return to Suzhou.”

Lu Yuan looked at her, his eyes filled with pain: "Can't...can't I stay?"

"No." Chen Chen shook his head, tears mingling with the rain. "Mr. Gu, we are destined to be apart. This life... let it be like this."

She spoke softly, but every word was like a knife, piercing Gu Jiangnan's heart, and also her own. Zhang Yu watched from behind the monitor and could sense that Chen Chen was completely immersed in the role—no, perhaps she wasn't acting; she was simply expressing her true feelings.

"Qingwan," Lu Yuan reached out to pull her, but she took a step back, "I..."

"Stop talking." Chen Chen interrupted him, forcing a poignant smile. "Mr. Gu, take care."

After she finished speaking, she turned and walked into the rain. Her figure in the moon-white cheongsam receded into the distance, so resolute, so lonely. Lu Yuan stood there, his umbrella falling to the ground, as if his soul had been ripped away.

"Cut!" Zhang Yu called out, his voice a little hoarse. "Very good... this take is done."

Applause erupted in the room. Chen Chen's performance was so moving that several female staff members were brought to tears. But Zhang Yu knew that Chen Chen wasn't acting; she was using the role to say goodbye—goodbye to Gu Jiangnan, and also goodbye to...him.

Chen Chen emerged from the rain, and staff immediately rushed forward to drape a towel over her. She was soaked to the bone and shivering, but her eyes were vacant, as if she had lost her soul.

Zhang Yu walked over, wanting to say something, but Chen Chen glanced at him with eyes as cold as winter ice, then turned and walked towards the dressing room.

At that moment, Zhang Yu knew that he might really lose her.

The afternoon filming continued in a tense atmosphere. Besides Chen Chen's rain scene, there were several scenes with supporting actors, but Zhang Yu was completely out of sorts, calling out the wrong commands and saying the wrong lines several times.

"Director Zhang, are you tired?" Assistant Director Xiao Wang asked cautiously. "Why don't you take a break?"

Zhang Yu rubbed his temples: "No need, continue."

But he was truly exhausted—exhausted emotionally. Chen Chen's gaze was like a knife, piercing his heart, impossible to pull out or heal.

Filming was suspended at 5 PM. It started raining heavily, and it became impossible to continue shooting. Zhang Yu announced that filming was finished and everyone could go home and rest.

As the staff packed up their equipment, Zhang Yu stood alone under the eaves of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, watching the torrential rain outside. Raindrops pounded on the bluestone pavement, splashing up droplets, mirroring his shattered and chaotic state of mind.