First Kiss Diary - Chapter 47

The mall had been completely cleared for filming, so the eliminated contestants were sent to the first-floor lounge to wait.

Ji Shiyan went to the lounge and discovered he wasn’t the first to be honorably eliminated.

A friend in the lounge, clutching his phone, looked up at him: “You made it in here too? It’s normal for someone like me who doesn’t do variety shows often to get eliminated, but aren’t you supposed to be a gaming pro?!”

Most of his friends were music producers, rarely appearing in front of the stage, but not afraid of the camera either—after all, they’d worked with many top artists.

Seeing Ji Ning getting along well with them, and since a whole day of shopping would be boring, he thought he’d use the game as an opportunity to bring her closer to his circle of friends.

A friend added, “Do you know how I died? I finished in the bathroom and when I came out someone ambushed me, pulled on my string and popped my balloon. I’m not kidding—people actually play the game like that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” the man said softly with a smile. “It wasn’t cheating.”

“And you? How did you die?”

Ji Shiyan, who had been smiling a moment ago, suddenly fell silent.

“Come on, tell us. I’m really curious how you got here so early — ambushed? Besieged? Trapped?”

“None of those,” Zhao Jing, who had just come in, answered for Ji Shiyan. “He turned our guaranteed win into a false proposition.”

“I cornered Ji Ning, was going to pinch him, and then—bang—he came out from who-knows-where and subdued me.”

“Subdued me, his teammate! He subdued his teammate, can you believe that?” Zhao Jing still hadn’t come to terms with it. “What kind of thing is this? Does a game mean no girlfriends? Ji Shiyan, can you be any more clear-headed?!”

A friend snorted out a laugh: “And he just mocked me for being pinched when I came out of the bathroom? He’s actually worse than me, right?”

Ji Shiyan looked at Zhao Jing: “What are you doing here too?”

“You still know to worry about me?” Zhao Jing cracked open a bottle of mineral water. “Wasn’t it just after you left that Ji Ning’s team showed up? Wasn’t it like a helpless ant being crushed? I’m fine, I really am fine. You don’t need to worry about me—worry about Ji Ning.”

“……”

At this he added, “How’s Ji Ning doing?”

“You actually want me to care about her?” Zhao Jing sounded like he wanted to throw the water bottle. “She’s fine. Three guys are dead—only one left on her team. How could she not be?”

……

In the end, only Ji Ning and the other girl from the opposing group remained.

Screams from upstairs drifted down to the lounge; Zhao Jingse hunched his shoulders and muttered, “They must be going at it pretty hard to be screaming like that.”

“Ji Ning is done; what’s left is Manman. A tough girl like Manman would surely pin Ji Ning down and rub him.”

The match ended quickly, and everyone came out of the locker room to check the situation.

Behind Manman a balloon panted, rushing toward the lounge.

Ji Shiyan looked at her: “You pinned Ji Ning down?”

Manman looked at him for a moment, then smiled: “No, Ji Ning won. She gave me this ball.”

Zhao Jing leaned in: “Ji Ning beat you? Don’t joke. With all those muscles, you could be taken down by a delicate little girl?”

“People have brains, you know?” Manman said. “She hid behind that escalator and used two boards to pop my balloon.”

Before leaving, a girl teased Ji Ning with a laugh: “Why do you think you’ll win?”

Ji Ning thought for a moment: “Maybe because I’m just luckier.”

Or perhaps it was Ji Shiyan’s sudden defense that gave her the confidence.

His friends logged off after a short while, and the show reverted to the two of them spending time together.

For some reason, Ji Shiyan suddenly said today that he would teach her to cook and asked if she wanted to learn.

“I do want to learn,” she said, tugging at her earlobe, “Is it difficult?”

“Not really,” he replied. “I’ll teach you something simple.”

They casually found a clean kitchen that had ingredients, and Ji Shiyan took off his coat and began preparing the materials.

Ji Ning washed the pot and spatula, lifted the pan and gave it a toss, simulating a stir-fry motion, then wanted to see what he was doing.

But when she tilted her head, she smelled a wave of amber and agarwood; the man leaned in, tilting his own head, his arms drawing closer.

“Tie your hair up.”

She thought he meant for her to do it herself; her shoulders lifted and fell, and she instinctively recoiled. Then she heard his low voice: “Don’t move.”

She truly didn’t move again. She felt her hair being gathered into someone’s palm, her eyelashes trembling, unsure where it would be best to rest her gaze.

Ji Ning suddenly felt this scene was vaguely familiar, like he’d seen it somewhere before, but the steadily thinning air disturbed him, preventing him from thinking any further.

Ji Shiyan originally thought this would be a very simple task—after all, the male leads in Korean dramas made it look effortless. But when it came to his turn, there was an inexplicable awkwardness: either he stuck it in at the wrong angle or a strand of hair slipped out.

The girl made a soft “hiss” sound.

“…Does it hurt?”

He lowered his gaze, saw a strand of hair caught in the hair tie, untangled it, then said, “Feeling better?”

“Mm.”

“Let’s leave it like this.”

Even someone as obsessive as Ji Shiyan had to admit this was the best he could do.

At that moment, Ji Ning suddenly remembered seeing a mole behind his ear in a fan photo and quietly tilted his head to check.

It was really there, a light brown spot, right behind his earlobe.

Ji Ning could no longer recall exactly how the cola chicken wings had finally turned out.

The only thing she remembered was the mole behind his ear; in the many moments when they drew near, she could always catch sight of it.

It was a distance that once only a professional DSLR could capture clearly, but now it was so close to her it felt within reach.

///

After the day’s shoot, having eaten three cola chicken wings, her fitness coach sent a report saying he dragged her to the gym for two hours of training.

After going back and checking her secondary account, Ji Ning finally came to her senses.

That hairstyle… wasn’t it the Weibo post she reshared yesterday and tagged Ji Shiyan in?

…??

She switched back to her actor account, Ji Ning’s official handle, to check and found that that account really hadn’t posted anything or even liked anything — she hadn’t mixed up the accounts; the only activity was on her secondary account.

Ji Shiyan… could it be..

Before the thought even surfaced, Ji Ning quickly suppressed it.

How could that be—even if Ji Shiyan knew her alt account, he wouldn’t be checking on her every day; she’s not the country’s number-one female idol.

Ji Ning decided she’d better wash up and go to sleep.

She hadn’t even lain down when she felt the onset of a dream; recently she’d really been poisoned by Song Yutu.

As usual, Ji Shiyan began his familiar bedtime routine of late—browsing Weibo.

He felt a little like a shopkeeper now; whenever there was some promotion, he had to check whether the customers had any feedback.

But tonight the customers had no feedback.

The customers had made some comments about his other actions and events; the comment read as follows:

[“There were no words of praise in the world, but Ji Shiyan read so many that they came into being.”]

…That will do.

Ji Shiyan read it word by word a few times, then, satisfied, put his hands behind his head and lay back.

It was worth making this account a special follow.

The wrap-up for “There Are Stars Here” arrived quickly; Ji Ning’s final scene that day was a crying scene.

She had never finished filming while crying before.

Some scenes, even if they were nailed in one take, didn’t mean they only needed to be shot once, because certain shots required many camera angles to complete and had to be done several times.

And that scene demanded she cry quickly and intensely.

By the third shot, the director, looking at the redness at the corners of her eyes, said, “This time we’re only doing a close-up. If you can’t bring the tears, we’ll just put a drop of eye drops near your chin.”

“It’s fine,” Ji Ning took a deep breath, “I can still cry.”

As a professional actor, crying scenes are the most basic of basic skills.

She looked at Zhuo Gong, tears welling up in less than three seconds, and gave an OK sign to the camera.

The director quickly called “cut,” and her scenes were completely finished.

As usual, a crew member brought flowers and red wine, but since Ji Ning was sensitive to alcohol, she didn’t drink any.

The girl held the bouquet, half her face hidden behind the flowers.

“Bye everyone, see you next time.”

Zhuo Gong also waved hard at her, “See you next time!”

Anyway, the publicity period would start in a few months.

Ji Shiyan was different.

The man glanced at Zhuo Gong and looked toward Ji Ning. “See you the day after tomorrow.”

Zhuo Gong: …………………………..

Oh.

Author’s note: Table salt: this damn, pride-of-a-man kind of competitiveness of mine