Chapter 0641: Jiang Wen's Spring

It was the first time Zhao Fusheng had seen Jiang Wen acting so coy.

A tough man standing before him, hesitating to speak—Zhao Fusheng almost burst out laughing.

“This isn’t the place to talk. Let’s go somewhere else,” Jiang Wen said quietly, glancing around at the crowd.

Clearly, whatever he wanted to say next, he didn’t want others to hear.

Zhao Fusheng shrugged. Since Jiang Wen wanted to play mysterious, he’d play along.

The two walked one after the other to an empty spot. After checking that no one was around, Jiang Wen grinned and said, “Hey, Fusheng, are we friends or not?”

“No!”

Zhao Fusheng answered decisively.

Fast and crisp.

Jiang Wen instantly lost his composure. Damn it, why weren’t you following the script? A normal person would nod and say yes, then ask what was wrong, wouldn’t they?

They say that when God closes a door, he opens a window. But Zhao Fusheng had gone and shut the skylight too.

“Heh, I’ll give you a chance to rephrase that,” Jiang Wen said, eyeing Zhao Fusheng with a dark look, his voice laced with menace.

“Ahem…” Zhao Fusheng hadn’t expected such a strong reaction. After a dry cough, he quickly nodded: “Look, we’re good friends, brothers. What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is still mine. Just say what you have to say.”

“What do you mean, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is still yours…” Jiang Wen looked speechless.

“Don’t sweat the details.” Zhao Fusheng waved a hand and blinked. “So why did you call me over?”

“Well, that Zhou Yun—the girl who’s always with your sister-in-law—does she have a boyfriend?”

Jiang Wen hesitated, then spoke softly, looking almost shy like a boy next door.

Show!

Heavenly show!

Chen Duxiu!

Dihua’s show!

Nature’s divine show!

Zhao Fusheng was dumbfounded, staring at Jiang Wen. Was this guy born in the Year of the Dog or what?

He knew from his past life that Jiang Wen and Zhou Yun had ended up together, but in this life they’d had no connection—how had they suddenly taken a liking to each other?

Zhou Yun was beautiful, Zhao Fusheng had to admit. But when a woman reaches a certain level of attractiveness, unless it’s that catastrophic kind, it becomes a matter of personal taste. In Zhao Fusheng and Fan Baobao’s eyes, Zhou Yun’s beauty was outstanding. She might not be as alluring as Fan Baobao among their peers, but her appeal to mature men far exceeded Fan Baobao’s charm.

After all, Fan Baobao, though she now took a pure-girl image in commercials, was the type that made men unable to look away even when she just stood there.

Zhou Yun was different. She was the kind of quiet girl who could sit silently and read a book all afternoon.

In short, her temperament was gentle and refined.

But Zhao Fusheng still hadn’t expected that Jiang Wen would fall for her like this.

“Come on, Old Jiang, you’re joking, right?” Zhao Fusheng looked at Jiang Wen, tilting his head with a smile.

“I’m serious.”

Jiang Wen stood there, his tone firm: “You know, even though I’ve been filming lately, I’ve been in a bad mood. But for some reason, when I see her, I feel good.”

What is it like to like someone or love someone? How should one act to get it just right?

That’s a question—a very difficult one.

Zhao Fusheng, who had occasionally read a few philosophy books in his past life, thought it was a pale, empty, and damnable question.

They say never take the beaten path, but the problem was that Jiang Wen and Zhou Yun were fifteen years apart.

If he hadn’t known they ended up together in his past life, Zhao Fusheng’s first reaction would have been that Jiang Wen was joking.

But now the question was: knowing they were fated, what should he do?

“Hey, say something,” Jiang Wen urged anxiously when Zhao Fusheng didn’t speak.

“No boyfriend. But you’re so old, aren’t you embarrassed to pursue her?” Zhao Fusheng chuckled, teasing Jiang Wen.

“That’s none of your concern.” Jiang Wen’s face lit up with excitement.

Zhao Fusheng couldn’t understand this guy. Why ask him if Zhou Yun had a boyfriend? Jiang Wen could just ask her himself—it was totally unnecessary.

Rolling his eyes, Zhao Fusheng said helplessly, “You called me over just for this?”

“Of course. This concerns my lifelong happiness.” Jiang Wen said smugly.

“Not about the crew?”

“The crew?” Jiang Wen grinned sheepishly. “The crew’s fine. No need for you.”

With that, he turned and left, ignoring Zhao Fusheng’s wounded feelings.

Watching him disappear, Zhao Fusheng wanted to kick him in the ass. The guy was too infuriating—using him and then discarding him. What did he take him for?

But he had to admit, Jiang Wen was right.

The crew really didn’t need him for anything.

Sitting there watching the filming, Zhao Fusheng realized that Lu Chuan, though young, was truly talented as a director, calmly directing the entire crew without any awkwardness.

They had met once before, just a brief greeting, and then Lu Chuan went about his business. Zhao Fusheng ended up wandering around the set.

The former had no intention of courting the new screenwriter, and the latter had no desire to befriend the new director.

As Zhao Fusheng had told Jiang Wen earlier, he and Lu Chuan were both talented young men, but one relied on himself and the other on his father. They couldn’t be drinking buddies—at most, nodding acquaintances.

Jiang Wen thought Zhao Fusheng was being pretentious, but Zhao Fusheng felt it was normal. After all, he had barely seen any of Lu Chuan’s works in his past life. He only knew the guy was talented and had a good father, so he sailed through life without setbacks.

For someone like Zhao Fusheng, who had no background or connections and could only rely on himself, Lu Chuan was the kind of “other people’s child”—good family, good grades, happy life. Someone like that was never going to be on the same wavelength as Zhao Fusheng.

Shaking his head, seeing that his girlfriend wasn’t around, Zhao Fusheng thought it over and decided to leave.

The sky was overcast, no sun in sight. Both vehicles and pedestrians seemed a bit sluggish, even cyclists pedaling lightly.

The National Day holiday had begun, and Zhao Fusheng’s first New Year film was being shot in full swing.

But he didn’t like the director.