Chapter Twenty: Model Couple
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At a large filming base, an enormous urban romance drama crew was in the midst of a passionate shoot. Multiple cameras were fixed on a young couple: the male lead, furious, flung off the heroine’s hand and strode away under a grand canopy of ginkgo trees. Dappled sunlight filtered through the branches, casting shadow across his face, and a single crystal tear slid silently down, unnoticed by all.
“Cut! Brilliant performance, Mr. Wu! That was fantastic! The character just came alive—Assistant Director, come see this take, it’s a textbook example of acting.”
“Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Wu. Take a two-hour break, everyone! Go have lunch, we’ll continue this afternoon!”
Wu Hao, the hottest male star in today’s entertainment scene, had a keen instinct for the market. He knew exactly what kind of projects could capture the audience’s attention; that’s why, right at the start of his career, he took on multiple web dramas about taboo romances and ghost stories that no one else dared touch. Unsurprisingly, he shot to fame overnight—variety shows, cameos, appearances at major galas, the invitations never stopped. In just three years, his net worth soared close to ten million.
Returning to his RV, Wu Hao found a woman dressed provocatively already waiting for him. He smiled faintly, deftly wrapped his arm around her, and stroked her nylon-clad thigh. “Yesterday you were still pretending to be innocent. I told you, stick with me and you’ll never lack for roles.” With that, he began to slip her clothes off, pressing his lips to her neck.
A sudden, urgent knock at the door: “Hao Hao, Tian Tian is here. Get ready, you’re both scheduled for a media interview.”
“Damn it, what a nuisance. Just a fake couple for publicity—does that woman really think she can cling to me?” He tossed the discarded clothes back to the girl. “You should go now, I’ll come to your room tonight.”
The girl hurriedly threw her clothes back on and left, looking lost and disheartened. Wu Hao tidied his shirt in the mirror, composing a warm smile with his superb acting skills, then stepped out of the RV and headed toward the group gathered at the filming base entrance.
Liao and I crouched by the roadside, each devouring a scallion pancake. “Too salty. I asked for sweet sauce, but that lady put the wrong one on.” Liao grumbled about his food, but before he could finish, we saw Tian Tian’s entourage arriving in dramatic fashion. We’d learned about Tian Tian and Wu Hao’s schedule today from some paparazzi staking out the set, so we came early to wait.
From a distance, Tian Tian was holding hands with a tall, handsome celebrity. Her long hair was pinned up, and she stood obediently by his side, while he, scholarly and refined, answered question after question from the reporters. Liao and I hurried closer.
“We’re grateful for the media’s concern about our relationship. Things are stable between us, and we hope to bring you more quality productions in the future.”
Wu Hao stood smiling in the flash of cameras, his hand entwined with Tian Tian’s. After a bow, the two of them headed back to their RV camp. Security hurried to block the cluster of reporters. Liao and I squeezed through the crowd but were stopped as well. Liao opened his backpack and said to the guards, “We’re extras in the crew—playing the Taoist priests who are invited into the palace.” He showed them the props in his bag.
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The security guard eyed us suspiciously, then picked up a talisman. “Hey, these props look pretty authentic!” He nodded and waved us through.
“Unbelievable, that actually worked!” I barely had time to express my amazement before Liao dragged me straight toward Wu Hao’s RV. Just as I was about to knock, Liao stopped me. “Don’t. A night of spring is worth a thousand gold.” He jerked his chin at the RV. I understood and listened closely; sounds of passion seeped through the vehicle.
“Seriously? That was fast—he was just doing an interview a few minutes ago!”
“The entertainment world’s a mess. Careful or you’ll be silenced,” Liao said with a sly smile.
Suddenly the noises stopped. Moments later, Wu Hao flung the door open, shouting, “Who are these two damn extras chattering outside my RV? Don’t you know my rest area is off-limits within thirty meters?”
Liao’s expression darkened. Lighting a cigarette, he rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a photo of Su Jin. “Who would have thought, Wu Hao, the big star—a father at such a young age.”
Wu Hao’s face turned grim. He stepped aside and said, “Come in if you want to talk.”
Liao and I entered his RV. It was my first time seeing the inside: air conditioning, kitchen, TV, sofa—everything you could need. At the back was a Simmons mattress, the quilt just barely covering a pair of pale legs... Wu Hao quickly pulled the curtain across the middle, blocking off the rear, and gestured for us to sit and have some coffee.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wu Hao said with a perfect professional smile.
“You’ve heard about what happened to Su Jin, right? She and Wang Mei are both our clients now. No need to pretend with people who know the truth.”
“How much do you want? Will a million be enough?” Wu Hao slammed the table with a snarl.
Liao nearly spat out his coffee.
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“We’re not here for that,” I said solemnly, spinning my tale. “Actually, the child you and Su Jin had is still alive.”
Wu Hao’s face twitched, then he burst out laughing. “Impossible. I was at the hospital at the time—I know that child was dealt with.”
Liao nudged me anxiously, muttering through clenched teeth, “A million! One! Million!”
I ignored him. “Yes, the child was stillborn. But he’s still alive in this world.”
“What are you talking about?” I could see panic and fear in Wu Hao’s eyes. I sighed inwardly; clearly, he wasn’t ignorant of the hauntings.
“It’s nothing. Su Jin’s encountered some strange things. If it has nothing to do with you, then we won’t trouble you further. You two carry on…” I signaled to Liao, and we were about to leave when—bang! Liao’s backpack knocked a woman’s purse off the table. Something small and smooth rolled out—a doll, its face covered with paper inscribed with a birth date. What was truly disturbing was that its belly was riddled with needles, and mottled gray-brown livor mortis stained its waist and abdomen—identical to the marks on Su Jin’s own stomach.