Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Launch Ceremony and Script Reading

These young men and women were all quite stirred and excited.

“Thank you so much, sis.”

“We really appreciate it.”

Just having a chance to perform was more than enough to satisfy them.

Bai Ling, on the other hand, felt a bit embarrassed—why did it feel like she had committed some mischief and was still being thanked for it? This world truly was unfair.

Fortunately, it wasn’t Bai Ling herself who was being treated unjustly. But then again, she thought, that wasn’t quite right either—she had certainly suffered her share of unfairness. This thought brought a wave of cynicism over her once more.

But perhaps that was a good thing. If you work in the arts and don’t harbor a few unusual emotions, you’re too much like everyone else to produce anything worthwhile.

With a head full of restless musings, she set aside the earlier misunderstanding for the time being.

Bai Ling took a cab back to her hotel.

She slept peacefully through the night.

The next morning, as soon as she got up, Miao Miao dragged her off to the set that the crew had rented.

Since it was a historical drama, they usually needed to rent a large venue. Most of the production’s budget was devoted to this.

Don’t ask why they didn’t just use a green screen—special effects were even more expensive than real locations.

Reusing sets was the real way to go green.

Even with Bai Ling’s investment, Ouyang Ruofeng hadn’t rented an especially large site. After all, this was a light comedy set in ancient times and would most likely be released as a web series. There was no need to compete with big-budget productions for the largest sets.

A modest shooting location that resembled an imperial city would do just fine.

As for everything else, Ouyang Ruofeng knew far more than Bai Ling.

Sound stages were erected one after another, and a variety of dressing rooms, makeup rooms, and costume areas were all set up out in the open air.

Expensive filming equipment was everywhere.

Luckily, Ouyang Ruofeng had brought all this gear himself—otherwise, just renting these treasures would have cost Bai Ling a fortune.

When Bai Ling arrived, Ouyang Ruofeng was in the thick of things, busily arranging and coordinating.

When it came to chores or performing arts, Ouyang was hopeless. But in the studio, his talents truly shone.

He single-handedly filled the roles of director, assistant director, script supervisor, and managed costumes, props, and makeup.

Fortunately, he was still young and could handle the workload.

Otherwise, Bai Ling would have worried that he’d collapse from exhaustion after just a few days of shooting.

It was Bai Ling’s first time joining a production. She knew nothing about how things worked, and even Miao Miao was lacking in experience, so the two of them found a lucky spot and waited quietly.

They spent their time leisurely by a tent near the snack stand, sipping water and enjoying the breeze from an electric fan.

That was when Ouyang, drenched in sweat, appeared.

“Bai Ling, there you are!”

“Come on, let’s start the opening ceremony. The reporters are all waiting.”

“Once the ceremony is over, I’ll introduce you to the actors you’ll be working with.”

Bai Ling put down her milk tea and called out, “Coming!”

With a hint of curiosity, she followed after him.

The so-called opening ceremony was a traditional rite: an appeal to the gods for the crew’s safety and a smooth production, with hopes that the series would be a hit.

There wasn’t much to do; for Bai Ling, it simply meant standing center stage among the cast and joining Ouyang Ruofeng for incense offerings.

As for which deity they were honoring, she understood only vaguely.

During this process, quite a few reporters gathered around.

From the inception of a project to mid-filming and even to final release, publicity was always necessary.

The opening ceremony had evolved from a mere blessing to the first round of promotion.

Given Ouyang Ruofeng’s reputation and Bai Ling’s status as a hot topic, the ceremony drew a surprising number of reporters, despite the production’s modest size.

Bai Ling counted at least twenty or thirty outlets, including several major media organizations.

Once the incense was offered, it was time for interviews. Most of the journalists lacked imagination, asking only about the series or Bai Ling’s personal life.

Bai Ling fielded their questions easily, brushing them off with light answers.

She was straightforward by nature and found it all very simple—unaware that compared to many other celebrities, her performance was remarkably impressive.

After the ceremony, it was time for the actors to introduce themselves and read through the script together.

It was then that Bai Ling met Yi Jing, the male actor she’d be starring alongside.

After chatting with him, she found him to be a decent person.

He wasn’t especially handsome, but he’d do well enough as the crown prince’s consort.

There was just one issue—Yi Jing was also a newcomer, and his acting was fairly average.

She met the rest of the cast only briefly, just enough to become acquainted.

The group script reading was rather interesting. It was a simple way for everyone to get a basic understanding of the story.

If the script was complex, the reading could take quite some time and would often reveal problems early.

And if any special skills were required, professional instructors might be brought in.

All in all, though it was Bai Ling’s first day on set and her first time working on a TV series, she found herself adapting quite well.

Even with Ouyang’s frantic pace, she managed to keep up.

But later that night, she received a message from Zhen Xiang.

Bai Ling hadn’t expected him to reach out to her at this time.

She assumed something must have happened with her parents.

But to her surprise, it was about yesterday’s incident—someone had snapped a photo.

The blurry image Zhen Xiang sent showed Bai Ling leaving the police station.

“Sister Bai, you might want to be careful,” Zhen Xiang said.

Bai Ling smiled at his message and replied, “Don’t worry, it was just a misunderstanding.”

The phrase “a clear conscience fears no accusation” perfectly captured her attitude.

Seeing her response, Zhen Xiang said nothing more.

But Bai Ling found herself thinking even more highly of him.

At least for now, it seemed she’d made the right choice in recruiting him—he really did keep her informed.

Since the topic had come up, Bai Ling went online to browse the news.

Conveniently, Ouyang Ruofeng had already registered an official account for “Crown Princess,” and tonight he needed Bai Ling and the other actors to help promote the show.

So after logging in and posting that she’d be acting in the series, Bai Ling began to check out other news stories.

She wanted to see if the reporters that day had reported things accurately.

But to her surprise, as soon as she posted her update, a flood of comments appeared instantly.