This director only directs blockbusters.

Chapter 19 I Have a Dream of Becoming a Movie Queen

Fan Binbin remained silent for a long time.

The soup pot was still bubbling, the sound particularly clear in the quiet room.

"Because of what you said in the meeting room that day," she finally spoke. "You said that Lin Xue wasn't just a pretty face, but a warrior. You said that if I wanted to play her, I had to become her."

She twirled her wine glass.

"I was thinking, could I...be a soldier again? Not acting, it's real. And don't laugh, I also dream of becoming a Best Actress. Doesn't that seem unreal?"

Yang Ning looked at her.

After removing her makeup, she had some light blue under her eyes, from the fatigue of training. But her eyes were brighter than ever before on camera.

"You are a warrior now. I think your dream is great, and I believe you will achieve it. Remember, this is not flattery," he said.

Fan Binbin laughed, and this time it was a genuine laugh.

"Thanks."

The two continued eating. They talked about the play, training, and embarrassing incidents on set—

Huang Xiaoming got stuck in mid-air while climbing the rope net for the first time. Zhou Xun improvised a scene that confused his co-star. Liu Yong argued with someone until his voice became hoarse over a prop model.

I drank more than half a bottle of red wine.

Fan Binbin's face was a little red, but his eyes were still clear.

"Director Yang, why did you become a director?" she suddenly asked.

Yang Ning paused.

Why? Because you were resentful your whole life in your previous life? Because you wanted to prove yourself? Because...

"Because I like it," he finally said. "I like turning the things in my head into images, and I like the feeling of a group of people working hard for a common goal."

Even if it's this tiring?

"It's only worth it if it's tiring," Yang Ning laughed. "Things that are too easy to get are meaningless."

Fan Binbin nodded, seemingly lost in thought.

It was already past nine o'clock when we finished eating.

Fan Binbin was clearing the dishes when Yang Ning offered to help, but she chased him out of the kitchen.

"You are a guest, please have a seat."

Yang Ning walked to the bookshelf and looked at the books. The books were a mixed bag, including performance theory, novels, history, and a few cookbooks.

He pulled out a copy of "An Actor Prepares," with the inscription on the title page indicating it was purchased in 2000, the handwriting still childish.

"That was the first professional book I ever seriously bought," Fan Binbin said as she walked out, wiping her hands. "I saved up my allowance for two months."

How many times have you watched it?

"Three times. I didn't understand it all, but I forced myself to keep reading."

Yang Ning put the book back.

It's raining outside the window, a fine, dense rain pattering against the glass.

"The rain is getting heavier." Fan Binbin walked to the window. "Director Yang, how are you going to get home?"

Let's take a taxi.

"It's raining at this hour, so it's hard to make a call." She turned around. "How about... you stay here tonight? There's a guest room available."

Yang Ning was taken aback.

Fan Binbin's expression was natural: "You're off tomorrow anyway, so you don't need to rush back early. Besides..." She paused, "I still have some questions about Lin Xue that I'd like to ask."

Having said all that, it would be pretentious to refuse any further.

"Okay." Yang Ning nodded. "Thank you for your help."

"It's no trouble at all."

Fan Binbin went to the guest room to make the bed, while Yang Ning sat on the sofa in the living room.

The rain grew louder, pouring down.

He suddenly felt that the scene was a bit unreal—the Fan Binbin who was training so hard that her knees bled, the usually heroic Fan Binbin, and the Fan Binbin quietly making the bed in front of him were the same person.

Or perhaps it's all her. She just doesn't usually have the chance to show this side of herself.

"All done." Fan Binbin came out. "The sheets and duvet cover are all new. There's hot water in the bathroom, and the towels are on the rack."

"Thanks."

"Well..." She glanced at the time, "It's getting late, you should get some rest."

"The same to you."

Fan Binbin nodded and walked towards his bedroom. He turned back at the door.

"Director Yang."

"Um?"

"Thank you for coming today," she said softly. "It's been a long time since I've had a meal and chatted with someone like this."

Yang Ning smiled: "It's been a long time since I've had such delicious home-cooked food."

Fan Binbin smiled and closed the door.

Yang Ning lay down after taking a shower. The bed was very soft, and the blankets smelled of sunshine.

He stared at the ceiling, going over the day's events in his mind.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

.........

When Yang Ning opened his eyes, it was still dark.

He felt a heavy weight in his arms—Fan Binbin was wrapped around him, one leg draped over his waist, and her arms around his neck.

She buried her face in his shoulder, her hot breath spraying onto his skin.

He moved slightly, and Fan Binbin hummed but didn't wake up; instead, she hugged him even tighter.

She was sleeping in a very unrefined manner; her hair was all over her face, her lips were slightly parted, and there were some shiny drool stains at the corners of her mouth.

The T-shirt was rolled up to the chest, revealing a section of the waist.

The muscles sculpted through training are firm, and the skin gleams with a layer of sweaty sheen in the morning light.

Yang Ning stared at her for a while.

Memories of last night are flooding back.

She kissed him on tiptoe first, then pushed him onto the sofa.

Her stubbornness made her always want to be in control.

"Don't move," she whispered, "I can do it myself."

………………

…………

When it was over, both of them looked like they had been pulled out of the water, unable to tell if it was from sweat or something else.

The sheets were disheveled, and a pair of worn-out stockings lay on the floor.

She remained limp for a moment before slowly getting up, walking to the window, and drinking half a bottle of water.

The moonlight outlined the body's contours, like an unfinished sketch.

Yang Ning lit a cigarette.

She walked back, took the inhaler, took a puff, coughed lightly, and continued.

The smoke dissipated into the darkness.

After a moment of silence, she suddenly spoke:

"Director Yang."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked.

She didn't speak, but nodded, her hair brushing against his chin and making it itch.

Then she got up, went naked to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, and gulped down half of it.

Standing by the window drinking, the moonlight illuminated her profile, her waist and hip lines flowing smoothly like a painting, beautifully presented, like a mountain range from afar and a peak from the side.

Yang Ning also got up and lit a cigarette.

She walked over, took the cigarette from his mouth, and took a puff herself.

Smoke billowed from her nostrils and drifted into the darkness.

"Director Yang," she suddenly said.

"Um?"

"Does my back look particularly bad?" she asked, turning her back to him.

Yang Ning looked at it by the moonlight.

The vertebrae are clearly defined, and the shoulder blades look like they're about to take flight.

The bruises from training hadn't faded yet, and a few new red marks had appeared—from his scratches.

"It's not bad-looking," he said.

"What is that?"

"Like we've been in a war."

Fan Binbin smiled, turned around, and handed the cigarette back to him.