The men watch Tong Jing Nian and the women watch Fu Ting Chuan.
Jiang Tiao who was surrounded by a group of girls silently took out her phone.
“Too handsome! I want to die!”
"Don't push me!"
“That picture you took looks very nice, can you send it to me via WeChat?”
……
The girls whispered to each other, unable to contain their excitement.
That is, until Director Tong furiously berated them, “If you’re gonna take pictures then do it quietly! What’s with all the noise! And if any of you dare to release any photos online you will be fired immediately!”
The younger generation immediately kept quiet in fear.
Fu Ting Chuan stood in front of a white curtain wearing an exaggerated expression as he looked down seriously. Finding the scene to be quite funny. She couldn’t help but smile.
Click
Luckily Jiang Tiao was able to take a pic.
She quickly lowered her phone and look at the result.
Not many young men can wear green tunics and look slender and bright. His eyebrows are deep and his nose is straight. His unconscious smile has a natural charm and grace that could only be obtained through the years.
Fine as jade, there is no other thing like this.
That is what she could probably describe this moment as.
Jiang Tiao thought back to twelve years ago when she was still in her third year of middle school. One day when she came home, her mom was watching TV in the living room.
She ran to get a glass of water from the kitchen and pretended to mindlessly sit on the sofa as she gulps down the water.
Because she had been very busy with classes, she could only squeeze in this opportunity to relax.
She forgot what she talked about with her mom or whether the glass of water was hot or cold. The only thing that she clearly remembered political costume drama playing on TV.
There is only one man's back on the screen.
He was walking down the hallway like he has to report something to the king. However, he was walking leisurely with no sense of urgency as if he was walking at ease through a utopia.
The lens span half a circle before slowly turning back to the face of the young official.
Jiang Tiao was stunned in an instant.
In her fifteen years of life, with all her yearning, this was the first time she had a clear and vivid image of the opposite sex.
And that is Fu Ting Chuan.
“Where are the stylists! Come over and fix their hair and clothes! Prepare for Xue Shao’s next scene. Xiao Tong, you go up first.”
The director’s words interrupted her thoughts. Jiang Tiao hurriedly set the picture that she secretly took as her home screen. She picked up the cosmetic bag and sprint backstage.
She didn’t put Fu Ting Chuan’s photo on her lock screen. It is her treasure, it should be hidden so only she can see.
When she arrived, Fu Ting Chuan is already sitting in a chair backstage. His assistant screwed a bottle of water and handed it to him.
The tunic he wore for the picture had already been taken off so he is only wearing a white short sleeve T-shirt on his upper body.
The director was also next to him. He is known to be very fierce with the juniors but toward Fu Ting Chuan, he would be laughing and flattering.
He took a cigarette packet from his trouser pocket and put it in front of Fu Ting Chuan, “Teacher Fu, do you smoke?”
Fu Ting Chuan raised the bottle in his hand and refused, "I don't smoke, I’m fine with water."
“Oh, ok. It’s good that you don’t smoke.” Director Tong’s affection is the same as Maitreya’s, “Then I will go ahead first. You rest a while.”
“Ok.”
As he watched the director leave, Fu Ting Chuan looked up and drank a mouthful of mineral water, his Adam’s apple moving up and down, looking very manly.
Several girls who are around him sorting out his clothes immediately blush.
Jiang Tiao stopped next to them and skillfully took out a few sheets of blotting paper from her waist pocket.
Fu Ting Chuan doesn’t have naturally dry skin. Adding on to the fact that he had been exposed for a long period to intense light, it is inevitable that there would be some oil production in his T-zone area.
Jiang Tiao wanted to explain herself but after thinking about it, she decided to keep her mouth shut and pat the blotting sheet on the center of his forehead.
The mysterious atmosphere reappeared once again.
Jiang Tiao couldn’t figure out what it was but whenever she put her hand on Fu Ting Chuan’s skin, there is a strange feeling.
It could’ve come from her or it could’ve come from him.
Is it because she desperately tried to repress her love and worship for Fu Ting Chuan which caused her to have a guilty conscience? Or is it because she is touching his face in a grandiose manner which would allow her to have some influence in private?
Forget it, let’s not think about it.
It is only work. She clearly told herself.
It is only work. She clearly told herself.
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