Chapter 119 – The Father Who Exploited His Child Star (12)

There weren’t any traps in the contract, but Xie Hui still wanted a few clauses added, specifically concerning Xie Chu’s safety.

“Mr. Xie, before signing, if there’s anything you’re unhappy with or anything you’d like to add, feel free to bring it up,” said Director Xu, his attitude toward Xie Hui even more respectful than how he treated agents of big-name celebrities. After all, if a top-tier actor dropped out, he could be replaced—but a child actor with this kind of spark was rare.

“I’d like to add that if, during filming, my son’s safety can’t be ensured, we have the right to terminate the contract.”

To Xie Hui, the safety of this little guy beside him mattered more than anything.

“Of course, that’s absolutely reasonable. But as you know, Mr. Xie, we’re filming a fantasy drama, so there will be wire work and such…”

“Standard filming is acceptable.”

Hearing this, Director Xu relaxed and signaled to the production staff to revise the contract.

Once the revised contract was printed out and handed over, Xie Hui carefully reviewed it again, and only after confirming everything was in order did he sign his name.

The initial filming focused on the female lead and her child. Most of the solo scenes had already been shot while searching for a suitable child actor. That very afternoon, Director Xu urged Xie Hui to bring his son to the set.

At the shoot, Xie Hui helped Xie Chu change into his costume. The makeup artist then fitted him with a wig and did a quick touch-up on his face.

With the last child actor’s failure still fresh in their minds, Director Xu had people take official stills right away. He had the team edit the previous casting announcement post and replaced the photos with the new ones.

Wen Zi, the original author of the novel, shared the new post herself, openly endorsing the child actor.

Initially, the change had been subtle, but once Wen Zi personally reposted it, the buzz instantly shot up. While the last child actor made the trending list for all the wrong reasons, the reception this time was the exact opposite.

No amount of Photoshop had helped the previous child actor—his looks and aura were completely off. But the new child actor captured hearts with just one photo, full of charm and spirit.

Director Xu checked online personally. Seeing no negative feedback, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Wire work was standard in fantasy dramas, and kids weren’t exempt. Considering this little rascal had been picked up from a fried skewer stall, and that he and his father didn’t even have an assistant to explain things to them, Gu Jingtong stepped in:

“Chu Chu, want to try flying up in the air? Just for a bit.”

Xie Chu thought of all those flying scenes he’d seen in dramas and gave a small nod.

“Okay, I’m not scared at all.”

Xie Hui crouched down to meet his gaze and softly said, “If you feel uncomfortable at all, you have to tell me, okay?”

Xie Chu sighed, then patted his father’s shoulder with his little hand.

“Got it, Daddy. Don’t worry.”

This little rascal really knew how to reassure people. But Xie Hui’s heart still tightened as he watched the crew lift him for wire testing.

Many adult actors in the entertainment industry still struggled with wire work—let alone a child barely over three years old.

Even though he said he wasn’t scared, once his feet left the ground, Xie Chu’s heart started pounding. His hands fumbled uncertainly, not knowing where to place them.

In his head, he desperately recalled the repeated instructions from that crew member earlier. Once he adjusted to it, he glanced down, kicked his legs, and started finding it fun.

When they lowered him back down, Xie Chu trotted over to his dad, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Daddy, I felt like I was flying in the sky!”

Xie Hui scooped him up, gently patted his back, and asked softly:

“Did it scare you, Chu Chu?”

Earlier, Xie Chu had only pretended to be brave, but now, after experiencing it himself, his eyes sparkled as he gestured with excitement.

“Nope! Daddy, it was super fun! Like I had wings—I flew really, really high!”

Looking into his bright eyes, Xie Hui finally allowed himself a smile and loosened the knot in his chest.

“As long as you’re not scared.”

With no fear of heights and no resistance to wire work, Director Xu came over with a script. Beside him was the drama’s female lead.

The actress, Yang Yu, was a trending star shifting toward serious acting. Her striking features and bold beauty matched the novel’s description perfectly once she had makeup on.

She walked over with Director Xu, crouched in front of Xie Chu, and extended her hand with a warm smile.

“You must be little Xie Chu, right? I’m Yang Yu. I’ll be playing your mother in the drama—looking forward to working with you.”

Yang Yu had invested heavily in this role, clearing all her other engagements. She’d memorized the script long ago and knew exactly how many scenes she shared with the child actor.

A good rapport between actors made everything smoother. After speaking, she even handed Xie Chu a lollipop.

Xie Chu glanced at his dad, and only after receiving a nod did he take it. Then, mimicking her, he held her hand and repeated her words in a soft, babyish voice:

“Looking forward to working with you.”

Director Xu never expected a child this young to memorize all his lines. His plan was to explain each scene beforehand and guide him line by line.

The filming location was noisy and didn’t require live audio. As long as the lip movements matched, dubbing could fix a few word slips.

During the first takes, Xie Chu struggled with camera presence—it was his first time, after all. But Director Xu patiently guided him through it again and again.

By dinner, after they’d wrapped for the day, Director Xu saw Xie Chu sitting on a tiny stool, scooping up rice from a meal box with a spoon. He waved his assistant over to add a chicken leg to the kid’s meal.

With cheeks puffed full of food, Xie Chu was chewing with effort when Director Xu walked over with the drumstick.

“Chu Chu, great job today—here’s an extra chicken leg for you.”

He set the container down on the table and smiled. The kid’s performance had truly impressed him—possibly the most naturally gifted child actor he’d worked with.

Not that he’d say it aloud, but honestly, some popular young idols didn’t even act as well as this three-year-old.

Xie Chu stared at the big drumstick. After finally swallowing all the food in his mouth, he looked up at Director Xu and asked seriously:

“Uncle Director, can I have two drumsticks next time?”

“One for me, and one to share with Daddy.”

The boxed dinners on set were always the same every night. Xie Chu’s portion was a bit smaller—two kinds of vegetables, one portion of meat, and a serving of rice. Those artists who needed to maintain their figures didn’t eat what the Film Crew provided either; their assistants brought them low-fat meals.

Xie Chu looked at the vegetables in his dad’s meal box, then at his own big chicken drumstick. After hesitating for a moment, he gave the drumstick to his dad.

He still remembered how much his dad used to love meat when they sold fried skewers.

“Daddy’s already full, Chu Chu, you eat it.”

Xie Hui, wearing disposable gloves, held the drumstick and brought it to the little guy’s mouth.

Xie Chu tilted his head and dodged, his face full of disbelief.

“Are you really full, Daddy?”

“Mm-hmm, really.”

After getting a firm answer from Xie Hui, Xie Chu skeptically leaned in and took a bite of the drumstick.

Standing nearby, Director Xu couldn’t help but find the scene amusing. In all his years of filming, he’d rarely seen a kid so considerate of his father.

Most children were selfish and protective of their food. When he had handed the drumstick to Xie Chu earlier, he’d seen the little guy secretly swallowing his saliva.

“Hey, I promise next time you do well, I’ll give you two drumsticks.”

Upon hearing that, Xie Chu grinned with squinty-eyed joy.

“Thank you, Director!”

After finishing the drumstick, Xie Chu wiped his mouth with a napkin. Then he remembered something and tugged at his dad’s sleeve. When his dad looked over, he tiptoed, and Xie Hui leaned down cooperatively.

“Daddy, you don’t think the Director’s drumsticks are deducted from our salary, do you?”

Thanks to the Entruster constantly bringing up money in front of Xie Chu, no matter how hard Xie Hui tried, he couldn’t get the boy to stop being so frugal.

“No, they’re not.”

“Phew, that’s good.”

There was still a night scene to shoot later. After dinner, staff took Xie Chu to get his hair done and change clothes.

Director Xu didn’t plan to film too late since the child actor was only about three years old. Shooting wrapped around 8:30 PM.

Wen Zi, the Original Author and one of the screenwriters, was also on set during filming. Seeing Xie Chu’s performance, she couldn’t help but take out her phone and snap a photo, which she posted to her personal social media.

@LittleMosquito: “I’ve found the perfect Di Shu in my heart.”

Xie Hui had no clue about these online rumors. He was still using the phone the Entruster gave him—half the screen was shattered. The money he made from selling fried skewers had all been saved up, and he hadn’t had the heart to buy a new phone.

He wasn’t addicted to the internet or reliant on devices. While Xie Chu was filming, he simply stood by and watched his son’s performance all day without getting bored.

That night, back at the hotel after filming, as they took the elevator, Gu Jingtong couldn’t help but ask:

“Xie Hui, how did you raise your kid? Chu Chu is so well-behaved. He doesn’t seem like a three-year-old at all.”

Hearing someone praise him, Xie Chu giggled softly.

The Entruster had taken out all their emotions on such a small child. Xie Chu didn’t want his dad to be sad, so he taught himself to be mature and understanding. Of course, this wasn’t something Xie Hui could explain to Gu Jingtong.

“Maybe I did a lot of good deeds in my past life, so in this one I got such a sweet son.”