Chapter Fifty-Seven: Daily Filming

Late at night, there were scattered clusters of about twenty passengers waiting on either side of the subway platform. Liu Qian stood inside the yellow line, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black casual pants, head lowered, laughing quietly as he lost himself in his own world.

The camera lens slowly shifted from behind Liu Qian to his front left, and at the same time, Liu Qian gradually turned his head to gaze to his left. Until his smiling face filled the entire frame, a beam of orange light suddenly illuminated his features. In that instant, his smile lingered, almost fading, his eyes focused on a spot not far ahead; his head inclined forward at a slight angle.

"Cut!"

"David's performance was excellent. Camera crew, prepare for the next shot!"

At Lu Chuan's loud command, Tong David let out a breath. The surrounding cameras immediately adjusted to their new positions, lighting equipment moved in tandem, and the extras finally had a moment to catch their breath.

On the other side, Gao Yuanyuan's makeup was already complete. Her long, jet-black hair was left loose, with a few stray strands crossing her forehead, giving her a somewhat disheveled look.

With everything ready, she stepped into her designated spot—right inside the yellow line, close to the edge of the tracks. Luckily, Beijing's subway stations hadn’t yet installed safety doors; otherwise, this scene would have been impossible to film.

The two leads were in position, waiting only for the equipment to be adjusted before shooting could begin. At that moment, it was two o'clock in the morning, and this was the second scene filmed that day.

In the previous two and a half hours, the crew had first completed the part where Song Mingxi searched for Liu Qian in the subway station. Since that scene took place entirely inside the station and didn’t involve the subway trains, it was much easier to film than those set on the trains themselves. Therefore, Gu Zhi and Lu Chuan decided to start with that.

It was everyone's first time working together, so there was some awkwardness—lead actors and extras alike made mistakes and broke character into laughter. The earlier scene served as an adjustment period for the crew; if they’d started on the trains, the subway operator wouldn’t care whether their takes were good or not, and each failed shot would mean requesting another pass of the train, adding unnecessary trouble.

Fortunately, both new actors were highly capable. Tong David and Gao Yuanyuan adapted quickly, and after just a couple of shots, they were fully immersed in their roles. Lu Chuan’s directing skills were solid, his control over the entire production impeccable.

Most of the crew were veterans from their last collaboration with Gu Zhi, with Liu Qi coordinating at the side, equally dedicated. Combined with Gu Zhi’s meticulously prepared shot list, the film’s scenes were completed at an increasingly brisk pace.

Especially memorable was the scene in the stationmaster’s office, where Song Mingxi barged in and refused to leave, stubbornly calling Liu Qian’s name into the broadcast system. In the end, she even snatched the microphone from the stationmaster, loudly searching for Liu Qian throughout the station.

That scene consisted of eleven shots, all completed in a single take! Under the guidance of the seasoned actor Ni Dahong, Gao Yuanyuan and Tong David tapped into their full potential, delivering perfect performances every time—a remarkable feat. Afterward, they could hardly believe how smoothly it had all gone.

Once that scene was wrapped, Ni Dahong’s work for the day was finished. Gu Zhi intended for him to rest in the service vehicle, but he insisted on staying with the crew.

“It’s fine. I can offer a bit of guidance to David and Yuanyuan. Missing a little sleep won’t hurt. Besides, with everyone here working hard, how could I be the only one sleeping? I won’t go, I won’t go.”

A true veteran, his integrity and dedication were admirable. Gu Zhi honored his wishes but made sure the staff brought him a hot cup of tea and draped a blanket over his shoulders.

Beijing had fully entered winter by now; the outdoor temperature hovered around zero degrees. The subway station was particularly windy, and in the dead of night, the temperature dropped to its lowest point, the persistent chill reddening everyone’s noses. The younger members could endure it, but Ni Dahong was already in his forties, and Gu Zhi didn’t want him falling ill from the cold.

So the crew continued filming overtime, with only the rescue scene—Liu Qian saving the drunken Song Mingxi—and the remaining subway scenes left to shoot.

“Yuanyuan, pay close attention to safety in the upcoming platform scene. Just act drunk and unsteady, but don’t actually fall over. The subway will be coming through, and if you fall, it’ll be dangerous. So be extra careful!”

“Got it?”

Before the next shot, Gu Zhi ran over to Gao Yuanyuan, repeating his warnings and reminders, fearing for her safety.

“I’ve got it. Don’t worry, Gu,” Gao Yuanyuan replied, giving him a thumbs-up and lifting her head, her large eyes fixed on Gu Zhi, as if encouraging him instead.

By now, her every gesture was closer to Song Mingxi; she was growing more confident, not feeling tired at all—on the contrary, she was full of energy.

Gu Zhi smiled lightly, returned the thumbs-up, and whispered, “Good luck.”

Then he went to Tong David and said,

“David, keep an eye out while filming. If Yuanyuan really looks like she’s about to fall, don’t worry about acting, just pull her back.”

“No problem.”

“And take care of yourself, too. Don’t rush so much that you ignore your own safety and end up falling yourself.”

“All right, I understand.”

Tong David’s steady nature meant Gu Zhi trusted him after just a few words. The shoot resumed.

“Rumble, rumble, rumble!”

With a deafening roar, the subway train slowly approached the camera. Song Mingxi stood at the very edge of the platform, head bowed, hair loose, swaying gently in all directions as if half-asleep, on the verge of falling at any moment.

“Beep!”

A shrill whistle suddenly pierced the air! Camera two was already trained on Song Mingxi’s small feet, capturing that at least half her foot was hanging over the edge.

Camera one quickly zoomed in from the side, the frame trembling ever so slightly.

The subway drew closer and closer to Song Mingxi, yet she showed no sign of stopping her swaying; her foot even edged forward by another centimeter, and in the next moment, she seemed about to fall!

At that moment, everyone present held their breath, not daring to make a sound, as if even their heartbeats had paused.

In the next instant, a figure suddenly darted into frame, grabbing Song Mingxi’s shoulders and pulling her back from the brink.

Meanwhile, camera three on the opposite platform perfectly captured this rescue from the front.

“Cut!”

“Perfect!”

Cheers erupted—flowers thrown in celebration!

“Cough, cough, don’t get too excited yet. We still have scenes inside the subway to shoot. All teams, prepare to board in a moment!”

At Director Lu Chuan’s command, everyone who hadn’t yet gotten swept up in the joy rolled their eyes and, without further ado, returned to their intense work.