Volume Two: Shadows of the Past Chapter Seventeen: The Faithless One at Jialan Monastery

"Everyone, attention! Get ready to shoot. Action!"

At Qingshan Temple, a crowd bustled back and forth, filming diligently. Chen Jing followed closely beside Wang Shumin, watching Xue Yue’s image through the camera lens, trying to learn how to capture the beauty of a shot himself.

It was the second day since Chen Jing had returned from the Imperial Dynasty headquarters. The day before, he had hurried back, and the next morning, he was already at Qingshan Temple without pause. He had arranged everything with Wang Shumin in advance, asking her to prepare the crew, so that as soon as he returned, they could start shooting the music video for “Jialan Temple.”

“Your little girlfriend is really photogenic,” Wang Shumin teased, watching the graceful Xue Yue through the lens and nudging Chen Jing.

Chen Jing rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, replying, “Director Shumin, we may be close, but you can’t just make up rumors like that. If word gets out, it’s no big deal for me, but it could affect her reputation.” ‘Director Shumin’ was the nickname Chen Jing used to joke with Wang Shumin.

After working together on so many music videos, Wang Shumin’s straightforward personality matched Chen Jing’s, and the two had become like siblings—yes, siblings. As Chen Jing put it, some men weren’t even as reliable as Wang Shumin.

After all, not just anyone could lug a camera weighing over ten pounds and run all over the mountain. More impressively, Wang Shumin was slender and graceful, making it hard to see where she got the strength to manage the camera.

“Isn’t it obvious? The way your little girlfriend looks at you—so tender, it’s practically overflowing.”

Chen Jing gave her a contemptuous glance and ignored her, turning his attention back to the camera.

Seeing that Chen Jing wasn’t responding, Wang Shumin muttered under her breath, “Hmph! Scoundrel!”

Watching Chen Jing fixated on the camera, she asked curiously, “You’ve always been interested in photography—I thought it was just a hobby. But now you’re trying your hand at it yourself? What’s the plan, giving up your musical talent to become a director?”

Chen Jing shot her a sidelong glance, not turning his head. “Not so fast. But soon I might start as an actor, get a feel for things before thinking about films.”

Wang Shumin was startled. “You’re not seriously thinking of switching careers, are you? Don’t! You’re a musical genius. If you gave up music for filmmaking, I’d be the first to object—never mind everyone else. If your fans found out it was me who led you to movies, I’d be hunted down.”

Chen Jing replied, exasperated, “Who said I was giving up music? I just want to try acting, see what it’s like. No need to make such a fuss.”

“Oh, that’s good then.” Wang Shumin breathed a sigh of relief. As long as Chen Jing wasn’t abandoning music, all was well. She genuinely worried he might act on a whim; genius minds always seemed to be missing a screw somewhere. Especially Chen Jing—so talented in music, it wouldn’t surprise Wang Shumin if he lacked sense elsewhere.

“Cut!”

“OK, how’s this shot? The essence of ancient Chinese style shows through—this part should do, right?” Chen Jing pointed at the screen, speaking to Wang Shumin.

She nodded. “Yes, the angle’s perfect. You captured Xue Yue’s elegance beautifully. Let’s move on to the next scene.”

“Alright. OK, this one’s done. Pack up, everyone—let’s prepare for the next scene,” Chen Jing called to the crew nearby.

Xue Yue, dressed in a pale floral qipao, walked over to Chen Jing. “A Jing, was that last shot good?”

Chen Jing smiled at her. “Of course. To be honest, Xue Yue, you suit the screen so well—you’re incredibly photogenic.”

Wang Shumin chimed in, “Exactly! Xue Yue, you have to promise me—next time I make a movie, you’ll be my leading lady. I need a classic beauty like you.”

Hearing their praise, Xue Yue lowered her head shyly, saying nothing, but her smile was reserved and graceful.

On the day Chen Jing returned, he sought out Xue Yue, saying he needed a female lead for his music video and wanted her to make a cameo. Xue Yue agreed without hesitation.

Originally, Ling Ruohan heard about it and volunteered herself as the MV’s lead. But when she and Xue Yue both donned qipaos for the role, Chen Jing, Lin Xi, and the others unanimously decided Xue Yue should play the heroine in “Jialan Temple.” Ling Ruohan was rather disappointed, though she admitted Xue Yue carried herself with more elegance and charm in the qipao.

Yes, the main reason was Xue Yue’s figure—qipaos highlight the silhouette best. This made Ling Ruohan secretly resolve to work on her shape, perhaps indulge in more papaya for good measure.

Although she didn’t get the heroine role for “Jialan Temple,” Chen Jing promised her the lead in the “Nocturne” MV, which made her beam with happiness.

The plot of “Jialan Temple” tells the story of a boy and girl from neighboring families who grew up beneath the temple, childhood sweethearts. As they reached adolescence and began to feel the stirrings of affection, they were already quietly devoted to each other. But before they could confess their feelings, the boy’s family had to move to another city for business, and he was forced to bid the girl farewell. Beneath Jialan Temple, they made a promise—the boy would return for her. He left, and that parting lasted a lifetime. The girl kept her vow, waiting at Jialan Temple, her hair growing from shoulder-length to waist-long. The boy never returned, but her family pressured her into marriage. With no way out, the girl became a nun at Jialan Temple, shaving her head, and spent her life there.

The story was Chen Jing’s idea. He thought it was a bit melodramatic, but Lin Zitan, Ling Ruohan, and the others all felt it was wonderful and insisted he make no changes; even Lin Xi agreed. Chen Jing could only sigh inwardly: women truly are sentimental.

After filming Xue Yue’s scenes, the next were Chen Jing’s. His shots were simple—just find some beautiful locations and film him walking and singing, then splice them together.

Originally, Wang Shumin wanted Chen Jing to cameo as the grown-up boy, now a heartbreaker, but Chen Jing disagreed. He felt it was best to leave the boy’s fate open to interpretation. No one knew why he let the girl down—was he unfaithful, or simply unable to return? That was for the audience to imagine.