Our Tender Harmony

With her most major scene done for the day, Xia Ruyun retired to the cast chairs. As she stretched backward in her chair like a brown-haired cat, her eyes squinted. Sitting back upright, she couldn’t help but feel her eyes wander to the staircase.

I wish I could go see Feiling act today...

Yet, she couldn’t.

10:00 am, 10:20 am, 10:45 am... and so on. Her entire schedule for the day had been filled with meaningless background scenes. Secretaries, apparently, had become a valuable set piece.

Realistically it’s because they just want an attractive woman in every scene for... certain audiences.

The thought alone made her purse her lips. Without a manager present—or even an assistant—she felt like a newcomer. How long had it been since she had felt this way?

Since I was 16? Performing indie wherever I could?

For heaven’s sake I’m 26 now... why am I even here...

Unable to catch up on sleep or see her one true friend on set, Xia Ruyun, instead, just sank into a fugue. Every once and a while, she’d get up, pick up some papers from a printer in the background of a scene, and return to her seat.

Some of the crew members even commented on it. In hushed voices, they couldn’t help but say “she’s like a robot...”

“I wonder why she’s doing this?”

“Does she need the money?”

“She doesn’t even have an assistant...”

Chu Changfeng, across the room, had donned a pair of frameless glasses, and a tight muscle shirt outlined his chiseled frame. With a laptop on his lap, manager and assistant by his side, and Liu Fangjie across from him, he seemed locked into his work.

Yet, unbeknownst to everyone present, he curled his lips while eavesdropping on the crew’s hushed whispers. Half his attention stayed on his emails as he sorted his real-life company’s affairs while the other half kept a keen eye on the room.

---

“What’s my schedule today, Shuhua?” Li Feiling asked her manager as the makeup artist applied the final touches.

“You have scenes until lunch,” Ye Shuhua recited with practiced smoothness. “Afterward, you have an endorsement shoot through the afternoon. Because it’s a closed set, I scheduled all of them together, so we’ll be going to four different locations. You’ll be back for dinner.”

“Mn, I see...” Li Feiling's gaze deepened, her eyes unfocusing. The bright lights of the vanity mirror seemed to blur in her vision as she frowned.

Why is there a faint sour feeling to have to leave this set?

It’s certainly not because of Chu Changfeng... That plastic plant of a man couldn’t cause me to have a feeling other than ‘anger-induced heart attack’ no matter how much he tried.

“Feiling?” Ye Shuhua’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes, what’s up?” Li Feiling snapped back to attention. Her fingers tapped against the chair’s arm rest, her nails glimmering under the set’s dry lighting. “I’m listening.”

“Alright,” Ye Shuhua raised an eyebrow, her belief wavering as a faint ember of interest smoldered in her mind. “I just wanted to make sure you block out your calendar for dinner tomorrow night. We should have a chat about your future. Also, I have some messages from your family to pass on because someone hasn’t been responding.”

“I’m busy,” Li Feiling answered with a perfunctory tone. The makeup artist, by now, stood up, nodding to let Li Feiling leave to the set.

“Busy? I’m sure you could make the time,” Ye Shuhua followed along beside Li Feiling as they walked towards the set area where Feng Wei awaited. “I think you just don’t care enough.”

“Ah... you caught me,” Li Feiling ‘feigned surprise.’ Her tone, however, remained flat as a board. “It’s normal, isn’t it? Mother and father are both handing the company off to Feijian. I’ll let them be.”

“I can’t deal with you, you’re too work obsessed,” Ye Shuhua shook her head. “Regardless, I’ve blocked your calendar for this afternoon. There were some endorsements asking for a shoot regarding their new collections, so I scheduled them all into a block. We’ll leave after your scene and be back, hopefully, around seven.”

“Mn, got it,” Li Feiling acknowledged Ye Shuhua’s arrangement. Stopping by the clothing rack at the set’s edge, she donned her suit’s blazer and slipped into a pair of stilettos. As she stepped onto the set though, she couldn’t help but sigh.

Me?

I’m not a workaholic...

Well, at least not this time.

I just would rather hang out with friends, you know?

Part of her though, ignored the fact that ‘hang out with friends’ only included one person. The other connections she had—even the recent ones like Wu Linjie, Chen Wenhui, and Wang Tianmin—just seemed to fade. They, somehow, didn’t get ranked above work.

In fact, they seemed more like passing figures in her life than anything else.

Since when have I felt... so... numb?

Seeing how Han Jingyi still hadn’t arrived from the upper floor, Li Feiling sank into contemplation.

Friends, family, I’ve always had those. I was happy but... why? I did do a lot of work, yes. I... do still feel connected to them. So... why do I feel numb? Was it just the fire of youth? Am I burning out? Losing my passion for acting?

Yet, this period of contemplation seemed to end much like the others as of late: with Li Feiling pushing it out of her mind as work beckoned.

“Ready, Li Feiling?” Feng Wei called out while his eyes followed Han Jingyi’s rushing figure. “Everyone else, ready as well?”

A chorus of “Yes,” “Yessir,” and “Yep”rang out, and Feng Wei, ready to go, raised his clapper to start the scene.

---

Gong Huayi ran into the conference room. Out of breath, her folder spilled out of her hand onto the table as she sat into her seat. She ran her hand through her hair, tucking away the loose strands as her co-workers gave her strange looks.

The CEO’s secretary had come in dressed as... a college student? A messy college student?

She was even wearing fake glasses!

Everyone in the meeting room fell quiet. The shuffling of papers filled the room until one executive let out an awkward cough. “Experimenting with outfits I see, Secretary Gong.”

“Don’t mention it.” Gong Huayi shut the conversation down with an immediate cold verbal slice. As the words left her mouth, an invisible pressure seemed to sweep through the room, and the man’s hair flew back, as if buffeted by wind.

Click.

The door closed.

Zeng Xiaojing had arrived.

An illusory phoenix perched on her shoulder. Dressed in a bright red suit with a black undershirt and black heels, she seemed like a fiery beacon in a room full of black-suited executives and secretaries—bar the one college student-like secretary.

Zeng Xiaojing swept her hair aside and she tapped her chin with a single finger. Her nails, bright red as well, matched her provocative lipstick.

She plugged in her computer, and soon, a presentation came online. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at a picture of Jiang Jinlong on the first slide. “So. As you all can see. I have a lot to say during this quarter-forecast meeting.”

The room stayed silent.

Afraid?

Afraid.

Zeng Xiaojing and her company had a famous rise; one that, arguably, outshined even Jiang Jinlong—the golden dragon. Zeng Xiaojing was the woman who had survived seven assassination attempts in seven months. Each time, she’d be rushed to the hospital, covered in blood, on death’s door.

Yet, each time, not even a week later, she’d be back to peak condition. Not just alive, but unhurt, unscarred, and ready for vengeance.

In the eighth month, just as people were betting for the eighth assassination to come, she shocked the business world by exposing all seven masterminds in one stroke—bankrupting their companies too while she was at it.

From then on, no one touched her.

The streets knew her by one title.

The Undying.

“The goal of this quarter is simple,” Zeng Xiaojing stood upright. She cracked a smile tinged with a hint of insanity. She spread her arms. “As a company, we’re bankrupting Jiang Jinlong. I don’t care what it takes.”

“CEO Zeng!”

“Wait!”

“How can you say this?”

“Don’t you think the board of directors will think you’re harming the company?”

Zeng Xiaojing’s smile shifted from crazed to alluring. She put a foot on the table, leaning forward towards the last person. She reached out, tilting his chin and forcing him to meet her gaze. Leaning closer, until the man trembled feeling the warmth of her breath. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“But the board of directo-“

“I’ll ground them into paste. Their opinions mean nothing to me. What are they going to do? Try and assassinate me?” Zeng Xiaojing stood back upright. She released the man’s chin and tapped him on the forehead. “Think a little more. Maybe one day you’ll discover you have braincells.”

The rest of the room sat there, shocked into silence. Zeng Xiaojing looked around, and, after seeing no questions, turned to the next slide. “I have a plan on how to take them down. Your jobs are to clean up the mess and to capitalize. This should be easy for you all, since you all are parasites capitalizing off me all day anyway. From here, I have a line-up of all the future deals they’re planning on pursuing. Ensure that we get every single one of these. Alright?”

“““Yes ma’am!””” A chorus rang out through the room.

“Mn... and that’s all I have to really say,” Zeng Xiaojing flipped to the third, and final slide depicting herself as a great general and Jiang Jinlong as a battered prisoner by her feet. She flashed a brilliant smile, swept her arm out, and gave everyone a seductive wink. “Now, onward! Prepare for war! We’ll strike so fast they won’t even realize their deaths are upon them!”

With her final proclamation, a phoenix cry seemed to fill the room. The executives, not to be outdone, all leapt out of their chairs. Their previous fear had disappeared as they rallied with cult-like fervor.

A full minute later, they settled down, grabbed their belongings, and left the room.

Except for Gong Huayi who, in her rush to leave, had ‘forgotten’ a phone. A phone that Zeng Xiaojing pocketed before leaving the conference room herself.

Click.

The door closed.