Chu Yi’s rental room was located in the Urban Village. The villagers had partitioned their two-story houses with boards to create several extra rooms, which they rented out specifically to young people working at Film City.
Since these were makeshift renovations of self-built houses, the rooms were cramped, and sharing a bathroom with others was par for the course. Chu Yi’s room didn’t even have a window.
He had just woken up and hadn’t had a chance to turn on the light yet. The only sliver of light came from the doorway behind Ouyang Yuyuan, casting a dim glow. After his eyes adjusted, Chu Yi made out the bluish mark on the other’s forehead, only to be cornered by him right then.
“How about that? I was spot on, wasn’t I?” Ouyang Yuyuan raised one eyebrow.
He quickly shook his head, though, patting Chu Yi’s shoulder with the air of someone who had been there before. “Young man, read more books. Believe in science, not feudal superstitions. And if you want to learn to be a charlatan… uh, I mean, a fortune teller, at least get some gear and learn a few professional terms. ‘Blood Light Disaster’ every time? Go ask around—who believes that stuff these days!”
Chu Yi glanced at the hand on his shoulder until Ouyang Yuyuan belatedly withdrew it. Only then did he speak unhurriedly, “Your philtrum does have a blue tint, not black. A black philtrum means bad luck or evil possession clinging to you—it’s not something you can avoid; you need rituals to dispel it. A blue philtrum signals personal disaster. That horizontal line across your mountain root, invading from the right, is a sign you’re implicated by someone else… Let me see your hand.”
Chu Yi’s commanding tone was so natural that Ouyang Yuyuan unconsciously obeyed. But before he could extend his hand, Chu Yi rejected it. “Left for Xiantian, right for acquired—haven’t you heard that? Left hand!”
Ouyang Yuyuan switched hands, but halfway through, he reacted. “Wait, you actually studied this? Those terms sounded legit! I misunderstood you. How about this—once you’re better, set up a stall at the Film City gate? Way better than being an extra, starving one meal and stuffing the next…”
Ouyang Yuyuan thought this was solid advice. The Film Crew’s doctor had checked Chu Yi earlier and said it wasn’t just mild heatstroke; he also suffered from long-term malnutrition and general weakness.
Ouyang Yuyuan was stingy himself, but he’d never seen anyone as extreme as Chu Yi, scraping by on nothing for his acting dream without giving up…
He felt genuinely sorry for him and couldn’t help advising after his suggestion, “But don’t go around telling people about blue philtrums and disasters. Not everyone’s as good-tempered as me. What if they think you’re cursing them and flip your stall or beat you up? Flatter them instead—make them feel good, and they’ll gladly pay!”
Chu Yi had already examined his hand before he withdrew it. Hearing this, he replied somewhat speechlessly, “I know there are plenty of frauds out there using the Xuanmen name, but I’m not one of them. If you heed my advice, stay indoors as much as possible for the next three days—especially no going out at night.”
Ouyang Yuyuan was curious. “What happens if I go out?”
“Light case: head injury and bleeding. Heavy case: broken limbs.”
Ouyang Yuyuan: “…”
He knew it—more of the same!
Chu Yi’s face was too young. He’d fainted from hunger at their first meeting, so even someone as guileless as Ouyang Yuyuan wouldn’t take him seriously.
Chu Yi shook his head. “I’ve said my piece—believe it or not, up to you. My rule is one reading per person per day, limit of three per day. If you need more, come back tomorrow.”
The divination was done; he politely showed his guest out.
Ouyang Yuyuan rolled his eyes at the ceiling: Another time?
If he weren’t delivering money, who would shell out two thousand bucks for a “Blood Light Disaster”?
But Chu Yi looked dead serious. Ouyang Yuyuan paused, then left thoughtfully.
After he departed, Chu Yi rested by the bed a bit longer until the discomfort eased. Urged by his stomach’s relentless growling, he finally prepared to head out.
He was still in the sweat-soaked shirt and shorts from that morning, worn under his costume. After sleeping in them, they felt sticky. But Chu Yi lacked the energy to change; compared to his hunger, nothing else mattered.
He grabbed his keys, locked the door, and just then, the neighboring door swung open. Out poked a man with messy hair, stubble, and a tank top with shorts.
He looked utterly exhausted from overwork, scratching his disheveled hair as he yawned. His droopy eyes scanned Chu Yi up and down. “That guy just now—did he give you money?”
Chu Yi glanced at him and pulled a hundred-yuan bill from his pocket. “Whether he did or not is none of your business. This is our agreed split—keep the extra forty.”
Without waiting for the bearded man’s response, he brushed past and headed downstairs.
The bearded man was Shen Zuwei. This body lacked an ID Card, so it couldn’t get an Extra Actor Permit. Shen Zuwei loved all-night gaming, so they’d agreed: when Shen Zuwei was unavailable, the original owner used his permit for gigs, splitting earnings fifty-fifty.
Logically, this shouldn’t work—group leads would catch it. But the original owner was honest and hardworking, taking grueling scenes others avoided. The group lead turned a blind eye for the favor.
Regular extras earned eighty a day base. Period dramas required long robes, pants, and headpieces, so the Da Qing Feng Yun Film Crew unusually paid one hundred twenty.
Strictly speaking, since Chu Yi had fainted midway and received no pay, he owed Shen Zuwei no split. But weak as he was, he just wanted to pay him off quickly to avoid a fight where he might come out worse.
Sure enough, Shen Zuwei pocketed the hundred but grumbled, “How’s it not my business? You’re using my ID—whatever you earn, I get half…”
But he couldn’t catch Chu Yi. By the time he reached the stairs, Chu Yi had exited the gate and vanished. Shen Zuwei could only slink back to his room resentfully.
I’ll settle this with him later!
Chu Yi slowed once he saw Shen Zuwei hadn’t followed—not that he didn’t want to hurry; hunger had left him limp.
Fortunately, the sun was setting, and the earth’s energy wasn’t as oppressive as midday. Walking the street brought hot winds, but it beat the stifling rental.
Chu Yi turned a corner and spotted a boxed meal stall by the road—an electric tricycle setup with a modified cart holding over ten basins of meat and veggie dishes. It looked clean enough.
The Boss Lady greeted him warmly. “Handsome, boxed lunch? Two meats one veg for ten bucks. Add a meat for three fifty, veg for one fifty. Rice as much as you want.”
Chu Yi had never seen a setup like this. He ordered the biggest box: chicken leg, meatballs, braised pork, pan-fried tofu…
The Boss Lady was startled by his order. “Handsome, it’s not that I won’t sell—it just looks like too much. Don’t waste it if you can’t finish…”
Chu Yi swallowed hard and nodded confidently. “Don’t worry, I can finish it.”
Her reminder made him stop adding more. This body hadn’t eaten properly for days; gorging wasn’t wise.
There were small tables by the stall. Chu Yi carried his heaping box to an empty one and sat.
The first bite of chicken leg drew an involuntary sigh of delight. Though this body’s memories noted modern seasonings were richer, he still marveled at the boxed meal’s flavor.
Watching Chu Yi devour half the box in no time, the Boss Lady truly believed he could finish. Who knew this tall, skinny guy could pack it away!
A slightly chubby girl eating nearby glanced at him several times, then shyly asked softly, “Um, can I ask… how do you stay in shape eating like that?”
She was an extra too, her biggest gripe her plump figure. Everyone knew cameras magnified faces and bodies; others looked lithe and ethereal, but she appeared a full size larger.
Chu Yi: “I hadn’t eaten for two days. Just earned some money today.”
It was compensation after fainting, not earnings, but the original plan was to eat after the gig’s pay—same result…
The chubby girl choked a bit. Not expecting such honesty, she tried to save face by complimenting after a closer look. “You’re actually pretty handsome. Watch the sun more—whiter skin would open more roles.”
She really thought he needed to nourish himself first. He was dark, skinny, and pallid, but short on cash for skincare, sunscreen and hats were simplest. Guys didn’t need the fuss girls did.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” He accepted the kindness with a slight smile at the girl.
She froze, blushed, and ducked her head, no more attempts at chat.
