Guide to Rising to Power as a Wife in Beijing's Elite Circle

On the day Liu Qingsong's documentary crew started filming, Jingjing experienced its first winter rain.

Chen Nuo got up at five in the morning, wrapped in a thick down jacket, and took the subway to the filming base outside the East Fifth Ring Road. When she arrived, it was still dark, but the studio was brightly lit, and the staff were already busy.

"Chen Nuo, right?" A stagehand wearing black-rimmed glasses looked her up and down. "Director Liu wants you to go to the equipment room to help check the equipment."

No formalities, no small talk, just direct assignment of tasks.

Chen Nuo nodded and followed him to the equipment room.

The room was filled with various cameras, lenses, lighting equipment, and a few young people around her age, yawning as they went through a list.

"A newbie?" A boy with dyed blue hair looked at her. "Which school are you from?"

"Film Academy"

"Oh, you're from a formal acting background." The boy's tone was a little sarcastic. "We're from the Communication University of China, here for an internship. You... were you personally invited by Director Liu?"

Chen Nuo understood the subtext.

Are you a relative?

"I guess so." She didn't explain further and picked up the list to check it.

Liu Qingsong arrived at seven o'clock.

Wearing a black windbreaker and carrying a backpack, with messy hair, he didn't have the air of a big director at all.

He glanced around the equipment room, his gaze lingering on Chen Nuo for a moment, before saying to the production assistant, "After you've checked the equipment, head to booth number three. We're filming the lab scenes today."

"Okay, Director Liu."

Over the next three days, Chen Nuo witnessed firsthand what the real film crew rhythm was like.

It was common for filming to start at 5 a.m. and finish at 2 a.m. The filming location was a laboratory in the suburbs, more than an hour's drive from the city. In order to catch the sunrise shots, they often had to set off at 3 a.m.

In addition to professional staff, there are five or six people with connections in the group.

They're all young people brought in by investors or partners. Some are rich kids who want to experience life, while others are spoiled young masters and ladies whose parents want them to receive some education.

On the morning of the third day, we filmed a time-lapse video of the early morning. The requirement was to start shooting half an hour before sunrise, taking one frame every five minutes, until the sun was fully up.

At 3:30 a.m., the temperature in the suburbs dropped below zero. Chen Nuo, wrapped in a military overcoat, followed his photography assistant to set up equipment on the roof of the laboratory building. The cold wind stung their faces.

"Chen Nuo, go downstairs and get some hot ginger tea," the photography assistant said.

She nodded and was about to go downstairs when she saw two people from the same group who were connected to her. A girl named Li Wei and a boy named Zhang Hao were playing games in the stairwell.

"It's too cold, I'm not going," Li Wei complained. "Anyway, Director Liu didn't say everyone had to go."

"Yeah, who can stand this awful weather?" Zhang Hao rubbed his hands together. "Let's just stay here and go down after we're done filming."

Chen Nuo glanced at them, said nothing, and silently went downstairs.

She knew why Liu Qingsong disliked people with connections.

Artists are inherently aloof.

They may be willing to compromise their principles for a meager living and accept the investors' arrangements to bring in people, but they harbor extreme disgust for those who disrespect art and have no reverence for professionalism.

Liu Qingsong won't show it.

He's shrewd; he knows this circle is all about connections and resources. But his attitude is impossible to hide.

He would give a second glance to those who actually get things done;

He couldn't even be bothered to remember the names of those who were just coasting through life.

On the fourth day, we filmed night scenes.

The chemical reaction process in the laboratory needs to be filmed in a dark environment, which requires extremely high lighting control.

Liu Qingsong personally took the camera, and the entire set fell silent. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the chemical reaction to reach its optimal state.

Chen Nuo stood behind the monitor, staring intently at the screen.

Suddenly, the cell phone rang.

It belongs to Li Wei.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" Li Wei hurriedly hung up, her face turning pale.

Liu Qingsong didn't speak, but slowly turned his head and glanced at her.

Just one glance.

But that look in his eyes was as cold as ice.

Filming continued, but the atmosphere had changed. After wrapping up, Liu Qingsong called Li Wei aside and said a few words. Chen Nuo was too far away to hear clearly, but she saw that Li Wei's eyes were red when she came out.

"What did Director Liu say?" Zhang Hao asked in a low voice.

Li Wei bit her lip: "He said... if you don't want to do it, you can go back. There's no need to waste your time here."

That's a very strong statement.

That evening, Li Wei and Zhang Hao made an excuse, saying they had family matters to attend to, and left the group early.

Chen Nuo watched their departing figures with a calm heart.

She knew that in Liu Qingsong's eyes, she and they were the same kind of people.

They all got in through connections.

The only difference is that she is related to Fang Jingxiu, while they are related to other investors.

But Liu Qingsong doesn't discriminate based on who you have a strong relationship with. He looks at attitude, ability, and your respect for the job.

On the fifth day, the filming moved indoors.

Someone needs to climb up the ceiling to adjust the position of the lights.

The ladder was very high and wobbled a bit. The staff looked at each other, but didn't move.

"I'll do it." Chen Nuo put down the notebook in his hand.

Everyone was looking at her.

"Are you sure?" The lighting technician frowned. "It's quite dangerous, and it's covered in ash."

"It's okay." Chen Nuo took off his down jacket, revealing a sweatshirt and sweatpants underneath for easy movement.

She climbed the ladder, her movements very steady.

Ten years of dance training have given her a level of body control far beyond that of ordinary people. Reaching the top, she took the tools handed to her and began adjusting the lighting angles.

Dust settled in her hair and on her shoulders. She squinted, carefully adjusting the device.

Ten minutes later, she came down, her face covered in dust, but her eyes were bright: "Is it okay now?"

The lighting technician looked at the effect on the monitor and nodded: "Perfect."

Liu Qingsong watched from the side without saying a word, but that afternoon, he asked the stagehand to give Chen Nuo an extra boxed lunch.

There was an extra chicken leg.

It was a small thing, but Chen Nuo knew it was the beginning of acceptance.

From that day on, Liu Qingsong would occasionally ask her to help watch the monitor and participate in some simple shot design discussions.

"What do you think of this composition?" Liu Qingsong suddenly asked her during a break.

Chen Nuo carefully examined the footage: "The left side is a bit empty. We can wait for the researcher to walk over before taking the picture; the image will be more balanced."

Liu Qingsong was silent for a few seconds, then said to the photographer, "Try it as she says."

The results were indeed better.

After finishing work, Liu Qingsong walked up to her and handed her a bottle of water: "Have you studied composition?"

"Yes, it's a professional course." Chen Nuo took the water. "I've also watched your films and studied your cinematic language."

Which one do you like?

"The Years of Mountains and Rivers." Chen Nuo said without hesitation, "That long take, from the mountaintop overlooking the valley, then zooming in to a close-up of the characters, was done in one go. It's the most powerful opening I've ever seen."

Liu Qingsong glanced at her, his eyes revealing something.

"That was filmed ten years ago," he said. "I can't film those kinds of shots anymore."

Why?

"The passion is gone." Liu Qingsong lit a cigarette. "When I was young, I thought movies could change the world, but now... it's just a job."

He spoke in a flat tone, but Chen Nuo could hear the weariness and disappointment in his voice.

At that moment, she suddenly understood why Fang Jingxiu had put her in Liu Qingsong's film crew.

It wasn't just to pave the way for her.

I especially wanted her to see it.

Even those who reach Liu Qingsong's level still face helplessness and have to compromise with reality. They still have to accept favors from those with connections and find a balance between art and commerce.

This is the real world, not a fairy tale.

On the sixth night, it was already 1 a.m. when the last shot was filmed. Everyone was too tired to talk and silently packed up their equipment.

Liu Qingsong walked over and said to Chen Nuo, "We have half a day off tomorrow. Come back in the afternoon. You... go back and get some rest."

Chen Nuo nodded, wanting to say thank you, but Liu Qingsong had already turned and left.

On the subway ride home, Chen Nuo was so tired that she fell asleep leaning against her seat.

When I woke up, I had already missed my stop, so I sat back down.

It was midnight when I arrived at the rented room.

She took a hot shower, lay in bed, but couldn't fall asleep.

My mind is filled with thoughts of the past few days.

Liu Qingsong went from being indifferent at first, to occasionally offering guidance, and finally to telling her to get some rest today.

She knew she had passed the test.

It's not because she's exceptionally talented, but because she's diligent, hardworking, and resilient.

Liu Qingsong has seen too many smart and talented people. But very few of them are able to settle down and focus on their work.

That's why she stood out.

My phone vibrated; it was Fang Jingxiu.

Only three words: "Thank you for your hard work."

Chen Nuo stared at the screen, a warm feeling welling up inside him. He knew what she was doing, and he knew how tired she was.

She replied, "It wasn't hard work; I learned a lot."

"Liu Qingsong called me," Fang Jingxiu sent another message. "He said you're good."

Chen Nuo's heart skipped a beat.

"What did they say?" she asked.

"They said you can endure hardship, you're quick to learn, and you're better than those other people," Fang Jingxiu replied. "They also said they'd let you continue working with them, and they'd take you with them for the rest of the filming."

Chen Nuo held her phone, and her eyes suddenly felt a little hot.

She recalled her father's words: "Liu Qingsong's attitude will be reflected in Fang Jingxiu's mind. If you slack off, his impression of you will suffer."

So for those seven days, she dared not slack off or complain; no matter how tired she was, she had to get up.

Now, the rewards have come.

It's not about material things, it's about something more important.

Recognized.

"Thank you, Brother Xiu," she typed, "for giving me this opportunity."

This time, Fang Jingxiu replied quickly: "It's because you proved yourself."

Conversation ends.

Chen Nuo put down his phone and opened his eyes in the darkness.

Outside the window, the winter rain was still falling.

The nights in Jingjing are cold and long.

But in Chen Nuo's heart, a fire was burning.

It was ambition, it was desire, and it was also... a vague and inexplicable feeling that was beginning to sprout.

She turned over and closed her eyes.

I have to get up early tomorrow.

The road ahead is still long.