Chapter 50

An An’s excited voice greatly satisfied Gu Chen’s sense of pride, especially when he praised his dad for being amazing. It made Gu Chen wish he could strap on wind-and-fire wheels and send An An soaring into the sky just to hear more compliments.

Once An An had played to his heart’s content, he very considerately said that he was worried Daddy might be too tired and that just holding him was enough.

Gu Chen, who had been feeling a little worn out, suddenly found his energy returning the moment he heard those words. He turned and planted a big kiss on An An’s cheek.

Just then, Director Wang passed by with the screenwriter. Seeing their interaction, they couldn’t help but pause. The screenwriter kept staring at An An’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

Director Wang lowered his voice, seemingly unwilling to disturb the heartwarming moment. A glint of excitement flashed in the screenwriter’s eyes as he tapped his pen against the folder in his hand, pointing subtly at the child in Gu Chen’s arms.

“Director, doesn’t he look just like Susu?”

The name that slipped from the screenwriter’s lips wasn’t in the script, but it was one the director knew well.

Susu was indeed a role in the screenplay, but after auditioning several child actors without finding a suitable one, the director had been reluctant to ruin the character. After discussing it with the screenwriter, they had decided to leave the role uncast.

The human imagination is boundless. A character who never appears but has a profound influence on the protagonist naturally invites speculation, stirring discussions and deepening audience engagement.

“Should we ask?”

Director Wang was tempted by the idea. There were many places in the script where a blank slate worked, but if they could find the right person for Susu, the scenes with Gu Chen’s character would be incredibly compelling. Cutting them had always felt like a shame.

“Gu Chen, your son is really adorable.”

The screenwriter, clutching his folder, approached with a smile. His eager expression immediately put Gu Chen on alert. He protectively covered the back of An An’s head with his hand, pressing the boy closer to his chest.

“Hm? What’s going on?”

“Gu Chen, the director and I talked, and we still feel that cutting the character Susu isn’t ideal. Your son is so cute—why not let him give it a try?”

From a purely visual standpoint, An An did match the character description in the script. But even the most seasoned child actors had failed to meet their expectations—let alone a little boy who had never acted before.

The director, not wanting to be too pushy, simply asked if Gu Chen was open to letting An An try.

“Huh?”

An An, who had been fiddling with his fingers, sensed that he was the topic of conversation. He looked at the director in confusion.

The golden light of the setting sun reflected in his clear, innocent eyes, instantly striking a chord in the screenwriter’s heart. Thinking he was being discreet, he nudged the director with his elbow.

Hadn’t Director Wang always boasted about his ability to train actors? Even if this one was young, the screenwriter had full confidence in him.

After years of working together, they had developed an unspoken language. In situations where they couldn’t be too blunt, they relied on small signals like this.

“Daddy?”

An An tilted his head and looked up at Gu Chen, his long lashes fluttering. Gu Chen could immediately see why the director and screenwriter were so excited. He cleared his throat before responding.

“Director, didn’t we decide that the role wasn’t meant to be portrayed on screen?”

Susu’s character was intricately connected to the forensic doctor that Gu Chen played. In fact, the removal of Susu’s scenes had caused his role to be downgraded to the third male lead.

Director Wang and the screenwriter exchanged an awkward glance. Truthfully, their previous reasoning had just been an excuse—nothing more than a way to comfort themselves after failing to find the right child actor.

“Gu Chen, weren’t you just asking your manager if there was a way to bring your son to set?”

“If it’s a family member, sure, there are restrictions. But if he’s part of the production team, then he can be here every day!”

“Besides, you know my reputation. I promise I won’t make things difficult. It’s just a trial—if it works out, I’ll teach him slowly, and I won’t be harsh. I’ll be patient and explain things properly.”

Director Wang, who had been scolded numerous times for making actors cry, showed no shame in saying this.

In the industry, some unscrupulous actors deliberately scared young co-stars or dredged up painful memories to force them into an emotional state. Director Wang had never stooped to such methods.

The only ones he had ever scolded to tears were those pampered idol stars who thought they could waltz into his set and play princess. Even now, he had no problem putting them in their place.

At first, their idea had simply been to let Gu Chen’s son try out the role. But now, based on how the screenwriter was practically vibrating with excitement, Director Wang could tell—this wasn’t just about trying.

Even if An An had no acting experience and didn’t understand the camera, they were determined to cast him. Saying it was a “trial” was just a way to coax Gu Chen into agreeing.

Having spent years in the industry, Gu Chen easily saw through their intentions. He simply chose not to call them out on it.

If he so much as nodded now, they’d whisk his son away the very next second.

“Director Wang, An An has never acted before. He’s not a professional and might not even know where to look in front of the camera.”

Gu Chen gently squeezed An An’s chubby little hand, keeping his tone calm as he laid out the facts. He didn’t want them to build up expectations only to be disappointed later.

“No problem! I’ll teach him step by step. Trust me, I’m great with kids.”

If Gu Chen hadn’t personally witnessed Director Wang berating a pop idol so harshly that the actor terminated his contract, he might have actually believed him.

He was still considering how to refuse them tactfully—something that wouldn’t strain their working relationship since they’d be on set together for a long time.

Meanwhile, nestled safely in his father’s arms, the little boy had already been lured in by one particular phrase:

“He can be here every day.”

The little one, growing more excited the more he thought about it, nodded eagerly like a pecking chick at the thought of spending every day with his dad—not just seeing him on the phone but watching him work in person.

“I want to!”

Gu Chen hadn’t even opened his mouth to refuse before he heard his son eagerly become a little traitor. He glanced down at him.

“Alright, rest assured, everything will go according to the contract. I’ll contact your manager to sign it right away!”

Director Wang had never been so impatient before—afraid that if he delayed even a second, Gu Chen would change his mind.

Meanwhile, Yu Honghui’s time was up, and his son had to leave. But when he turned around and saw An An still sitting on a small stool eating snacks, he couldn’t deny feeling a bit jealous.

He glanced at his assistant, who had been with him for a long time and immediately understood his intent with just one look.

Taking out his phone, the assistant pretended to be scrolling through short videos while discreetly snapping a few pictures.

Later that night, after work, when Brother Li came over to discuss other job matters, Gu Chen suddenly mentioned that Director Wang had taken a liking to An An.

“What did you just say?”

“Director Wang wants An An to play Su Su.”

Brother Li had read almost every script Gu Chen received. He had felt bad for the character Su Su in this particular script and was even a little disappointed when he heard that the role might be cut due to a lack of a suitable child actor.

“Well, well, Gu Chen, you’ve really made it. Since we’ve worked together for so many years, how about this—if An An ever wants to enter the entertainment industry, you let me be his manager, alright?”

The more Brother Li thought about it, the more he felt this arrangement was perfect. Just relying on this father-son duo would be enough to set him up for life!

He had already felt that An An had great potential in this industry, and now reality was proving him right. Before even officially entering the field, An An had already caught Director Wang’s eye—his future was boundless.

Gu Chen didn’t take this as Brother Li scheming against him. Instead, he seriously considered it and found the idea quite feasible. If An An ever had the desire to enter the industry, staying under Brother Li’s guidance would be the best choice.

As his son, An An would inevitably live under the spotlight. The more successful he became, the more the paparazzi would try to capture his every move.

“Your kid is really going places. I’ll have someone keep an eye on the contract.”

“Alright.”

What was supposed to be a simple visit to the set unexpectedly turned into joining the production.

Since they had several scenes to shoot the next morning, after seeing Brother Li off, Gu Chen quickly washed up and went to bed. Hugging An An’s small, warm body, he slept exceptionally well.

In the middle of the night, Brother Li had just finished handling An An’s contract when he turned around and saw his colleagues dealing with an online controversy.

The rumors claimed that Gu Chen, drunk on his own popularity, was acting like a diva on set—bringing his child to the production and disrupting everyone else’s work.

To many, this kind of unprofessionalism was highly off-putting, especially when it affected others.

And since Gu Chen had skyrocketed to fame so quickly, there were plenty of people waiting to see him stumble. Any small controversy was like fresh meat to a pack of wild dogs.

【Is he trying too hard to build the “loving father” persona? Bringing his kid to work—did Director Wang not get angry? Or has he caved to the industry’s capital too?】

【I always knew something was off about Director Wang. He only bullies the ones he can push around!】

【Exactly! Our girl was praised by XX for her hard work, but Director Wang still called her a diva. Now, when faced with a real diva, he suddenly has nothing to say?】

【Is Gu Chen not going to explain himself?】

【Reliable insider info says Gu Chen is actually keeping his kid on set. Is he here to act or to babysit? I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous!】

【If he doesn’t want the role, he should step aside—plenty of people would kill for this opportunity.】

Brother Li nearly laughed in anger after reading these comments.

Having been by Gu Chen’s side for so many years, he had never once seen him act unprofessionally. But reading these posts, one would think he was some kind of villain.

The worst part was that Gu Chen himself couldn’t help but check the comments. Brother Li could sense that his emotions were off but didn’t know where to start comforting him.

He kept telling himself that once things calmed down, he’d take Gu Chen to see a psychologist. But with Gu Chen in the middle of his career’s peak—constantly needing to learn and improve—there was never enough time.

Looking at this entire public relations storm, Brother Li knew the main issue was that An An had stayed on set. It reminded people of coworkers who brought their kids to work, causing unnecessary trouble.

But with the current level of discussion, it wasn’t enough to make the trending topics list.

As someone in the know, Brother Li understood that the rumors were far from the truth. So instead of clearing things up immediately, he told the PR team to hold off and even hired some internet trolls to fan the flames.

Letting the controversy build for a while before debunking it would maximize their gains.

Brother Li had been wondering why they kept running into these issues lately. His gut told him that the same person was behind it all.

That night, he slept better than he had in a long time. He couldn’t wait to see the look on their mystery saboteur’s face when their scheme backfired.

The next day, Brother Li made sure to inform Director Wang about the situation.

Director Wang didn’t have the best reputation in the industry—mainly because he was extremely strict and rarely held back. Countless idol actors had been brought to tears by his harsh words.

Fans treated their idols like precious treasures, but in Director Wang’s eyes, everyone was equal. Without preferential treatment, it was easy for resentment to build.

Hearing the full story, Director Wang furrowed his brows.

If not for market demand, he wouldn’t have worked with idol actors at all. The bigger their fame, the bigger the trouble.

Director Wang had no choice but to lower his head for the sake of investment, as enough traffic stars could attract more sponsors.

He had always despised this reality, and hearing that they were now even targeting a child made him genuinely furious.

As soon as Gu Chen arrived on set, Director Wang approached him to discuss something. The character Susu had a significant presence in the script, deserving a proper official poster announcement.

“Can we do it in the afternoon? An An is still asleep.”

Gu Chen felt a bit guilty when mentioning this. He had no idea where An An had learned his habit of staying in bed—no matter how much he was called, he wouldn’t wake up. No matter how he was moved, he stubbornly kept his eyes shut.

Even if Gu Chen propped him up to stand, An An could still sleep soundly while standing.

“That’s fine. Go get ready.”

Today, Gu Chen and Yu Honghui had a scene together. As soon as they arrived at the set, Yu Honghui kept observing Gu Chen’s state.

If Gu Chen truly loved his child as much as he claimed, he wouldn’t be able to maintain his usual flawless composure after what had happened.

Yu Honghui had little to speak of in terms of acting skills. Most of the time, he simply mimicked others’ performances, but he could never capture the essence, only managing a soulless imitation.

He knew his problem very well, and precisely because he was aware but unable to fix it, he grew increasingly gloomy.

Yet the protagonist of this film was a fresh graduate from the police academy—someone sunny, positive, and striving forward.

Director Wang couldn’t understand why things turned out this way and could only blame himself for misjudging the casting. The longer the shoot went on, the more dissatisfied he became.

By contrast, Gu Chen’s performance was beyond exceptional. If Susu had more than just a presence in the medical examiner’s flashbacks, his role would have been significantly expanded—perhaps even approaching the level of the male lead.

Gu Chen delivered a stunning performance on set, while Yu Honghui failed to shine.

After watching the scene, Director Wang decided to redo it. Thinking about Gu Chen’s outstanding performance, he couldn’t help but feel a little regretful.

“Yu Honghui, can you even keep up with his acting? Are you supposed to be afraid? In this scene, you should be angry, not scared!”

The director slammed the script against the table, his face flushed with frustration. He wished he could jab Yu Honghui in the forehead to see if his brain was filled with nothing but water.

This scene involved the protagonist realizing that many past cases had traces of the medical examiner’s involvement, leading to a direct confrontation—questioning whether he was behind it all.

Gu Chen’s innocent yet chilling demeanor was, in the director’s eyes, practically god-tier acting. But because Yu Honghui couldn’t keep up, they had no choice but to reshoot.

“Director, I think there should be some fear in his emotions.”

At that moment, Yu Honghui recalled an interview of Gu Chen from his previous life and mustered the courage to voice his opinion.

When someone finds out that their partner in solving crimes might actually be the true mastermind behind them, anger should be mixed with fear and dread.

In his previous life, many film critics had commented that Gu Chen’s acting skills were actually quite average, but his deep understanding of characters and unique perspectives always brought something refreshing.

“You’re not wrong, but anger should be dominant! Why would you be afraid? You’re a cop! The one who should be scared is the person standing in front of you!”

If Yu Honghui had just followed the director’s instructions, it would have been fine. But instead, he talked back, giving Director Wang the perfect excuse to vent all his pent-up frustration.

“Do you even understand what acting is? Is it so hard to show anger mixed with fear?”

Director Wang had never seen such a hopeless actor. Even when spoon-fed, he still couldn’t swallow properly.

Every time Director Wang went off on someone, Gu Chen wished he didn’t have ears. He pretended to be focused on recalling his lines, hoping to avoid looking at Yu Honghui’s miserable state and accidentally offending him.

Gu Chen thought he had a strong sense of self-preservation, but Yu Honghui still took all of this as a personal grudge against him.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Try, try, try—how about actually showing me some results?”

Director Wang didn’t care how hard he tried; he only wanted results. If Yu Honghui had Gu Chen’s talent, Wang wouldn’t mind if he slept on set every day.

Director Wang’s words were absolutely brutal, stomping all over Yu Honghui’s dignity.

When people experience extreme embarrassment, they tend to imagine that everyone is staring at them. The more Yu Honghui thought about it, the worse he felt, his face flushing red.

“Go adjust yourself, and we’ll resume later.”

Director Wang was so frustrated that he nearly lost his mind. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed his anger and decided to go have some tea to cool down. Otherwise, he was sure Yu Honghui would send him to an early grave.

Earlier, he’d seen people asking why most directors in the industry went bald so early. Now, Director Wang wanted to answer them with his personal experience.

With situations like today, how could anyone not lose their temper? Premature balding was the most natural consequence possible.

While Yu Honghui rested, Gu Chen had nothing to do either, so he grabbed a small stool and sat down to check a video sent by his assistant.

Recently, Gu Chen had developed a new hobby—watching videos of his son whenever he had free time. If he didn’t receive a new one, he would go back and rewatch old clips.

Seeing the adorable and lively little one on his phone screen, all the exhaustion from work seemed to disappear.

The assistant who was taking care of An An at the hotel had sent him a video of An An drinking milk. Perhaps because he had slept in too late and was extra hungry, he was gulping it down urgently.

After Gulu Gulu finished drinking, a circle of milk mustache was left around his mouth. When little An An saw the traces on his face in the mirror, he became slightly unhappy, pouting as if he was sulking with himself.

Yu Honghui, who had just been scolded and was feeling frustrated, sat there with a gloomy face. His assistant, seeing this, hurriedly tried to comfort him, fanning him gently.

At that moment, Yu Honghui suddenly noticed that Gu Chen, sitting at a distance, actually had a smile on his lips!

They were sitting quite far apart, and since Gu Chen was turned slightly to the side, Yu Honghui refused to believe that he was just amused by something on his phone. Instead, he assumed that Gu Chen was deliberately laughing at him.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He clenched the script in his hands tightly. He was the type of actor whose performance heavily depended on his state of mind—his acting skills were poor, and he could only barely manage by compensating in other areas.

In this production, Yu Honghui was undoubtedly the one under the most pressure. He had landed the lead role despite being surrounded by so many seasoned actors with excellent acting skills.

If his performance wasn’t up to par, he would definitely become the target of mass ridicule once the movie was released.

On top of that, having Gu Chen constantly appearing in front of him, he wasn’t sure whether it was dissatisfaction or something else, but it made his state of mind sink to rock bottom.

As time passed, Director Wang, seeing Yu Honghui’s abysmal performance in the production, even started discussing with others whether they should replace him before the filming progressed too far in order to minimize the losses.

When Yu Honghui heard about this from someone he trusted, his face changed drastically. If he were really sent back, it would be an utter humiliation.

To avoid being kicked out and leaving behind such a scandal, Yu Honghui had to summon every ounce of his energy.

After all, he had been the candidate selected by both the director and the screenwriter. No matter how bad he was, as long as his performance wasn’t completely unbearable, the director wouldn’t resort to the last resort of replacing him.

It was precisely because he knew this that Yu Honghui occasionally dared to cross the line a little, as long as it wasn’t enough to anger the director.

Because Yu Honghui was constantly off his game, Director Wang focused most of his energy on coaching him, leaving An An largely unattended.

Regarding the previous scandal involving Gu Chen, if it hadn’t been true, his team—known for carefully maintaining his public image—would have quickly stepped in to clarify.

But this time, there was complete silence, leading even Gu Chen’s fans to start wondering whether the rumors were true—whether he really couldn’t bear to be apart from his child and had brought him to the set instead of leaving him elsewhere.

Gu Chen had a habit of reading both fan comments and hate posts. Brother Li knew he wouldn’t stop, so he always helped clarify things, ensuring Gu Chen’s reputation remained untarnished.

This time, however, they deliberately refrained from making a statement because they planned to use this opportunity to make an official announcement.

Gu Chen, well aware of how the entertainment industry worked, kept an eye on the discussion for days. Only after confirming that all the criticism was directed at him alone did he finally relax.

As long as they weren’t attacking An An, it didn’t matter—he was used to being criticized.

Under the combined guidance of Director Wang and another veteran actor in the production, Yu Honghui’s acting skills finally reached an acceptable level, barely satisfying the director.

It was only then that Director Wang realized he had yet to fulfill a promise he made days ago.

Because Gu Chen had kept his child on set, he had endured several rounds of public scolding. Feeling guilty, Director Wang instructed Gu Chen to have his assistant bring An An over that afternoon.

He even had the screenwriter prepare a picture-based script that a child could understand.

An An arrived at the set wearing his own clothes. On the way there, the female assistant had already explained everything to him.

He knew why he was coming and understood that if he wanted to stay with his dad, he had to perform well.

After arriving at the set, he didn’t make a fuss. He obediently greeted Director Wang, accepted the script from the screenwriter, and sat on Gu Chen’s usual small stool.

An An clutched the script in his arms and looked at the director with a puzzled expression, as if he didn’t quite understand why all of this was happening.

“Baby, can you pretend to be reading the script seriously? We need to take a few photos.”

An An understood this request immediately. His eyes lit up, and he eagerly nodded.

“Okay~”

The director called over the production’s professional photographer, and Gu Chen, unable to resist, also took a couple of photos with his phone.

The set was dimly lit, but the spot where An An sat happened to be illuminated by a beam of light that fell on his shoulder.

The child’s focused profile, combined with the overall composition of the shot, required no post-processing—it was already good enough to be posted directly on the film’s official Weibo.

“Not bad, not bad.”

Having misjudged Yu Honghui before, Director Wang was now extra cautious about assessing other actors. Fortunately, An An didn’t disappoint him.

Being so young, An An couldn’t read the script, so a crew member had to sit beside him, patiently explaining it over and over again.

Initially, Gu Chen’s fans had resigned themselves to the rumors, even commenting under Brother Li’s Weibo that if Gu Chen really missed his child that much, he could have left him at the hotel—bringing him to the set was just inappropriate.

But in this atmosphere, the film’s official Weibo suddenly released a promotional photo.

One image showed a small child sitting on a stool, engrossed in reading the script. The other captured him looking up, reaching out toward a beam of light streaming in.

The two kids in these photos are absolutely adorable, and with the movie already generating a lot of buzz, Director Wang saw an opportunity to capitalize on it and even bought a trending search topic.

An An is very cute, and ever since his identity was announced, many people have come to see that as a fact. The attention and interest surrounding him haven’t faded yet.

【A dedicated and professional little actor.】

This caption, posted by the official account, subtly helped clear up any misunderstandings about Gu Chen. It clarified that he hadn’t brought An An to the set for personal reasons—An An was there because he was one of the child actors in the cast.

Many in the production crew had already suspected as much. After all, Director Wang was never the type to overlook such matters.

But Yu Honghui didn’t know. On the many sleepless nights when he struggled with his acting, he would pull out his phone just to read the negative comments about Gu Chen.

The more tense Gu Chen’s situation became, the happier Yu Honghui felt. The only thought in his mind was that it would be great if Gu Chen could just leave the entertainment industry.

So today, when he suddenly heard that Gu Chen’s son was also part of the cast, Yu Honghui momentarily forgot to maintain his usual facade. Forcing a smile, he asked,

“Director Wang? There’s a child actor in the script? How come I didn’t know about this?”

Director Wang had given each of them different versions of the script. In a suspense film, if every main actor knew the full story, it would be hard to get the performance he wanted.

“There is one, but it’s not in your script, and you don’t have any scenes with them.”

Director Wang gave a simple explanation, which was already more than he usually would—perhaps because Yu Honghui had been behaving well recently.

Lately, Yu Honghui’s workload had eased up significantly. He should have been happy about it, but instead, he felt strangely unsettled.

Most of the key scenes revolved around Gu Chen and his son. More than once, Yu Honghui overheard Director Wang chatting with others, praising Gu Chen’s kid as if the heavens themselves had blessed him with talent.

“He doesn’t even know how to read yet, but every single performance exceeds my expectations.”

“Gu Chen, I’m telling you, if your son is still around when I haven’t retired, I’m definitely casting him as the lead in my movie!”

In all his years in the industry, Director Wang had never met a child actor as naturally gifted as An An. His only regret was that he himself wasn’t getting any younger.

“Director, if that opportunity ever comes, it would be An An’s honor.”

That night, after wrapping up filming, on the way back to the hotel, An An clutched the plush toy Director Wang had bought for him and quietly scooted to the far side of the car.

Brother Li, sitting in the passenger seat, found this unusual. After all, Gu Chen and An An were normally inseparable.

“What’s wrong? Does An An not like Daddy anymore? Come here, let Uncle give you a hug.”

Hearing that, An An tightened his grip on his plush toy, furrowed his little brows, and shook his head.

Even when Gu Chen reached out for him, An An didn’t immediately rush over like he usually did.

“There was a scene today that probably scared him.”

Ever since An An had a legitimate reason to stay on set, he had been obsessed with watching Gu Chen act. Director Wang also adored him—not only did he not stop An An from watching, but he often held him in his arms to give him a better view.

Today, Gu Chen had filmed a villainous scene—killing someone with his own hands. His bloody and deranged performance had terrified An An, making him reluctant to be near his father.

“He’s scared already? Gu Chen, with how attached An An is to you, does this mean you won’t be able to take horror movie roles in the future?”

Brother Li joked casually. In a suspense film, even with violent scenes, the gore was still controlled. Horror films, on the other hand, were a different beast altogether.

Gu Chen pulled An An onto his lap. Feeling the faint resistance from his son, he realized Brother Li might be right.

“Yeah, I won’t take those roles anymore.”

Scaring his own kid wasn’t worth it. Just like today—now An An didn’t even want to get close to him.

As filming progressed, Director Wang seemed increasingly relaxed, and Yu Honghui finally stopped acting like a block of wood.

Director Wang even arranged for some behind-the-scenes footage to be filmed, to be released as promotional material when the movie premiered.

An An didn’t have many scenes in the final cut; most of his appearances existed only in Gu Chen’s character’s memories. But in the behind-the-scenes footage, he was practically in every shot.

Director Wang adored An An to no end. If Gu Chen had been willing, he might have even taken him in as a godson.

As a result, there were plenty of funny moments in the behind-the-scenes clips—like An An holding Director Wang’s megaphone, randomly saying “Hello, hello” into it.

Director Wang had a habit of drinking goji berry tea for health reasons, always steeping them in a thermos. After spending so much time around him, An An insisted that his assistant add goji berries to his milk bottle as well.

A well-used stainless steel thermos next to a brand-new baby bottle filled with goji berry tea—it was a hilarious sight.

Even Gu Chen himself found it amusing. Though at times, he would feel a little jealous—his little one seemed to prefer Director Wang over his own father.

“Director Wang, if I’m not mistaken, that’s my son, isn’t it?”

That day, Director Wang was holding An An while supervising a scene. Gu Chen, fresh out of filming and still in costume, hurried over.

Someone in the crew had ordered popcorn chicken, which Director Wang had claimed for himself. Now, An An was feeding him piece by piece.

Left hand feeding Director Wang, right hand feeding himself—the little paper cup of popcorn chicken shifted back and forth between his arms.

“I’d love for An An to be my son, but unfortunately, his dad won’t allow it.”

Director Wang shook his head helplessly. An An was still focused on dividing his chicken popcorn, and before Gu Chen could say a second sentence, Director Wang waved him away with a look of utter disdain.

“Look at yourself—what do you look like right now? Stay away from my An An, don’t scare him.”

The little boy, engrossed in counting his popcorn, raised his head curiously when he heard this. But before he could see anything, Director Wang had already reached out to cover his eyes.

Gu Chen glanced down at himself. This scene was set in the later part of the movie when his character’s actions were nearly exposed. His once pristine white lab coat was now stained with blood. In his eagerness to check on his son, he hadn’t thought about it earlier, but now, with Director Wang’s reminder, he realized it made sense.

“An An, Daddy’s going to change clothes first.”

Gu Chen deliberately emphasized the word “Daddy,” as if reminding someone. Director Wang pretended not to hear, happily accepting another piece of popcorn from An An and immediately reaching out for a second one.

An An’s little face scrunched up in distress—it was a lie to say he didn’t feel the loss. His small face wrinkled as he repeatedly consoled himself in his head: This was Uncle Wang who bought the popcorn for me… That thought barely eased his pain.

“Heartbroken?”

“Nope~”

An An huffed lightly and turned his head away. Only when he was sure Uncle Wang couldn’t see did he pout in grievance.

Director Wang was quite relaxed while watching other scenes being filmed. The two assistant directors were personally trained by him and knew exactly what details to watch for during filming. He was intentionally giving them more responsibility.

But when it was Yu Honghui’s turn to perform, Director Wang, who had been lounging comfortably, unconsciously sat up straighter. Even An An was forced to adjust his posture, unable to maintain his previous relaxed stance.

Yu Honghui’s scene was opposite a veteran police officer. He had detected that his partner had betrayed him. The reason? Because the law, under certain circumstances, protected criminals. As a former top law student, the forensic doctor found himself unable to seek justice for his own child.

That was why he began using his expertise to commit high-intelligence crimes. In the end, if he hadn’t deliberately exposed himself, those cases would have remained unsolved mysteries.

To everyone else—even his closest peers—he was just one of them.

This scene was a major test of Yu Honghui’s explosive acting ability. Director Wang had already downed two cups of chrysanthemum tea that morning. The veteran actor in the scene delivered an outstanding performance from the start, but Yu Honghui couldn’t keep up. By the end, he was even startled into taking a step back.

Seeing this, An An couldn’t help but grin. Yu Honghui, distracted from his performance, caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look.

Startled, An An immediately wrapped his arms around Director Wang’s neck and complained in a pitiful voice:

“Uncle, look at him!”