“Nan Nan, do you have someone you like…”
For Jiang Nan’an, Wei Yinghua was like a gentle, older mentor who always had plenty of patience to teach him how to think and act when facing situations.
When “Spring Breeze” first started filming, Jiang Nan’an wasn’t very good at acting. It was Wei Yinghua who guided him step by step, telling him how to express himself and interpret the story.
The internet often says Wei Yinghua is Jiang Nan’an’s talent scout, a benefactor in his life. Although there’s an element of exaggeration and flattery in this, it is indeed true.
Perhaps even Jiang Nan’an himself hadn’t realized that he had a special trust and dependence on Wei Yinghua. That’s why he accepted her invitation, tried to get closer to her by coming to her home, and why he would talk to her about these things, earnestly listening to everything she wanted to convey to him.
Jiang Nan’an nodded, seeming to understand but not fully.
Wei Yinghua patiently waited for him to digest all this. After a moment, she pushed up her glasses, thinking of something, and spoke gently:
“Actually, I think…”
“Hmm?” Hearing Wei Yinghua’s hesitation, Jiang Nan’an looked up at her, and saw her smiling as she said:
“Nan Nan, do you have a girl you like?”
Jiang Nan’an didn’t understand why the topic suddenly jumped here, feeling a bit confused.
He followed Wei Yinghua’s gaze to the television, seeing the screen was showing him and Jiang Shanshan.
“I know this girl. Her acting is good, she’s pretty, and her personality in the show is quite nice too-open, cheerful, always smiling and lively. You two look so compatible. I heard she’s also the female lead in your next drama?”
Variety show editing usually has its own storylines and scripts to guide topics and increase popularity. Jiang Nan’an was the show’s cash cow, constantly generating hot topics and memes, so naturally the production team gave him plenty of storylines.
There’s no need to mention the growth conflict line with Fire during the regular points competition. Later, after he joined Makeshift Troupe, besides the group friendship portrait of the five members, the production team heavily sold his two CPs-one “Boating at Guazhou” and one “Jiang Jiang Good.” With interaction footage plus slow motion and pink bubbles, whether it was friendship or romance was left to the viewers’ interpretation. The strategy was to capture BL fans, BG fans, and friendship fans alike.
“Yes, it’s her, but…” Jiang Nan’an didn’t know how to explain to Wei Yinghua:
“I don’t think of her that way. I don’t really understand those things.”
“It’s okay.”
Wei Yinghua gently patted his shoulder:
“Nan Nan, don’t always think you’re not good enough. You should know that what others have, you deserve to have too. Just like these things… it’s okay if you don’t understand now. Someone will eventually teach you. Don’t be too resistant.”
Moving past this topic, Wei Yinghua chatted with Jiang Nan’an about some trivial daily matters, such as how the house cat had kittens, how the flowers in the yard had bloomed and withered, and also asked him when he would join the production of his next drama, as well as his future development direction.
After the casual chat, she invited Jiang Nan’an to join her in putting up window decorations and couplets. Later, as the sky outside darkened, the New Year’s Eve dinner was ready, steaming hot and filling a large table.
Although Wei Yinghua’s house was large, besides her and a few housekeepers who took care of daily matters, there was no one else. The housekeepers were all older women, mostly without family ties and drifting outside, or those who didn’t want to travel back and forth to their hometowns, so they stayed to spend the New Year with Wei Yinghua.
Wei Yinghua usually treated them like family. The atmosphere at home was warm and harmonious. They had a lively New Year’s Eve dinner together, then sat in front of the TV watching the Spring Festival Gala. Wei Yinghua, being older, couldn’t stay up too late and retired to her room early. Seeing this, Jiang Nan’an also returned to his guest room.
Jiang Nan’an was still not very accustomed to interacting with people this way. Even if that person was Wei Yinghua, after such intensive communication and interaction for most of the day, he still felt tired. Not to mention that everything today was a brand new experience he had never had before. He couldn’t find examples to imitate, and all his responses and states had to be judged naturally by himself.
It was very late. The sky outside was dark, with occasional sounds of fireworks exploding, though they weren’t very clear.
Jiang Nan’an took a shower in the bathroom. When he returned to the bedside after drying his hair, he found his phone vibrating non-stop. Only after checking did he realize that the Makeshift Troupe’s small group was sharing their New Year’s Eve dinners.
The first to bring up this topic was Jiang Shanshan. Her photo showed only a takeout box and a plate of frozen dumplings, with the caption “555 who is the poor soul who can only eat takeout and read history books on New Year’s Eve?”
Soon, poor soul number two, North Star, appeared. She didn’t even have takeout to eat, still working overtime recording a pre-recorded evening show for some TV station.
Chenghua, inBlue, and Yan Jie were completely inhuman in comparison. The New Year’s Eve dinners in their photos were increasingly sumptuous. Finally, the other five people in the group tagged Jiang Nan’an, who hadn’t appeared, asking him to share a photo too.
Jiang Nan’an opened his album and found the photos Wei Yinghua had sent him.
There were photos of them putting up window decorations together, group photos at the dinner table, and a table full of sumptuous New Year’s Eve dishes.
After thinking for a moment, Jiang Nan’an selected the photo of the New Year’s Eve dinner and sent it to the group chat.
Jiang Shanshan and North Star started sending “555” again. After chatting about a couple of other topics and ending with an emoji, no one in the small group replied anymore.
Jiang Nan’an then exited the chat interface, turned off his phone, and took out a “Red Book” from his suitcase as bedtime reading. But before he could open the book, his phone made a “ding dong” sound with a new message.
Jiang Shanshan (Actor): Teacher Jiang, are you free now?
Jiang Nan’an: Yes.
Jiang Shanshan (Actor): [Image]
The image Jiang Shanshan sent was of a brief commentary Jiang Nan’an had written in the “History of Xuan” set he had lent her.
Jiang Shanshan (Actor): I don’t quite understand this part. Why do you think the downfall of Zhuge Wenyun’s faction was historically inevitable? His supported Crown Prince Ying Shi should have been the most prestigious and truly talented among the princes at that time, right? Many of the concepts he proposed during his early political participation were quite ahead of their time, and he had Zhuge Wenyun’s support. If it weren’t for the chaotic court situation and being secretly harmed, shouldn’t he have been the best candidate for the throne?
Jiang Nan’an, who had been lounging somewhat lazily on the sofa, straightened up unconsciously when he saw this question from Jiang Shanshan, and began typing in the input box.
After writing a couple of sentences, he felt that this matter couldn’t be explained in just a few words.
Jiang Nan’an: Is a phone call convenient?
Jiang Shanshan was probably a bit surprised, and after a while replied “Yes, it’s convenient.”
When reading books, Jiang Nan’an liked to write down his interpretations and viewpoints beside paragraphs, but previously those were written for himself to see. It was rare for someone to be willing to discuss with him, so once he started talking, he found it hard to stop.
The two of them chatted from the lingering problems of the Great Xuan Dynasty’s emperors to the defeat of Zhuge Wenyun’s faction, and also analyzed which version of Princess Shen Yue’s cause of death in official and unofficial histories was most credible. They talked for nearly forty minutes. When he hung up and heard the sound of fireworks exploding outside, Jiang Nan’an suddenly realized that the time had already passed midnight.
The thick red-covered book still lay unopened on his leg. Jiang Nan’an lowered his eyes and rubbed the gold-embossed title with his fingertips, inexplicably thinking of what Wei Yinghua had told him today.
Emotions cannot be maintained by just one person. If you’re not used to a relationship changing from close to distant, you can certainly try to take the initiative to reach out.
Jiang Nan’an had never thought about these things before. He didn’t like socializing and would never actively approach anyone.
But Wei Yinghua’s words today made sense to him.
So he decided to put them into practice immediately.
He reopened his phone, clicked on WeChat, and found “Yan Xiaochun” in the message list.
Then he clicked on the input box and slowly typed the four characters for “Happy New Year.”
But just as he clicked “send,” his phone received a call-
Coincidentally from Yan Jie.
Jiang Nan’an hadn’t expected him to call at this hour and was a bit surprised, but after a brief hesitation, he swiped to answer.
“Hello?”
After the show’s recording ended, Yan Jie had rarely sent him messages. Why was he suddenly calling now?
“Mr. Hang.”
Yan Jie’s smiling voice came through the phone:
“It’s been a while since I heard your voice.”
“Has it?” Jiang Nan’an curled up a bit more on the sofa, unconsciously curling his fingers.
“Yes.” Yan Jie’s voice was slightly hoarse, his tone somewhat lazy:
“I’ve called you several times, but it always said you were on another call. I was starting to wonder if you’d blocked me. It’s the New Year-who were you talking to for so long?”
“Teacher Shanshan,” Jiang Nan’an answered truthfully.
“Shanshan?” Yan Jie was clearly very surprised by this answer. After a pause, he didn’t ask further.
“What’s up? Need me urgently for something?” Jiang Nan’an really couldn’t understand the purpose of Yan Jie’s call at 12:27 AM. Just to hear his voice?
“Nothing much, it’s the New Year, so I’m greeting our Mr. Hang.” Yan Jie was still his carefree, informal self. After a moment, he changed the subject:
“Are you in Shanghai?”
“No.”
“Oh? Where are you then?”
“Suzhou.” After a pause, Jiang Nan’an added:
“At Director Wei’s home.”
Yan Jie quickly searched for this name in his memory:
“Oh, the director of ‘Spring Breeze,’ Teacher Wei Yinghua, right?”
“Mm.”
“I never would have guessed,” Yan Jie chuckled.
“What?”
“Never would have guessed you’d travel so far to spend the New Year with someone else.”
“…”
Jiang Nan’an lowered his eyes without responding to this comment.
Soon, Yan Jie asked again:
“How long are you staying? When are you going back to Shanghai?”
“Tomorrow… it’s past midnight now, so today. This afternoon.”
“Oh-” Yan Jie dragged out the sound.
“What?”
“Nothing. What time will you be home? I’ll come wish you a Happy New Year.”
“?” Jiang Nan’an was stunned, not immediately understanding his meaning:
“You’re coming to Shanghai?”
“Yes, are you happy? Are you welcoming me? On the first day of the New Year, Little Spring first sends you warm wishes with a phone call, then delivers a warm person in the afternoon. Ah, just a dozen or so hours until I see Mr. Hang-just thinking about it makes me excited.”
Jiang Nan’an didn’t know what he was up to this time.
He lowered his eyes and said:
“Don’t get excited. I don’t have anything to entertain you with. If you come, you can only stand on my balcony and drink the southeast wind.”
“Why not the northwest wind?”
“Because the apartment faces southeast.”
“Ha, southeast-facing has good lighting!”
After saying this, Yan Jie laughed first:
“Alright, no need for you to entertain me, I’ll bring my own provisions. Hey…”
Halfway through his sentence, Yan Jie seemed to have noticed something new. After an “oh” and a two-second pause, he asked with a smile:
“I just saw that Mr. Hang wished me a Happy New Year?”
“Mm.”
“Is this sent just to me, or did other girls get it too?”
Yan Jie naturally assumed this was an official mass message following protocol, so he didn’t pay much attention to it, just teasing with a line mimicking Lin Daiyu.
But what he didn’t expect was Jiang Nan’an’s answer:
“No.”
These two words hit Yan Jie, leaving him a bit dazed.
“…Huh?” Fortunately, the distance created by electronic communication helped him cover that momentary blank:
“You only sent it to me?”
“Mm.”
“Why?”
“Director Wei taught me that when you want to maintain a connection, you can start a conversation this way. You can say anything, because the meaning is all the same.” Jiang Nan’an explained seriously, but Yan Jie couldn’t follow his train of thought:
“Meaning? What meaning?”
“Well,”
Jiang Nan’an’s tone was mild, as calm as if he were reciting today’s menu, but what came out was:
“I think I miss you. That’s the meaning.”
#
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
(Internally screaming!!!)
Smooth, Nan nan, smooth~