Jing Yu returned to the film set.
In fact, Lan City had a dedicated mini-film and television production base for shooting. Whether it was self-produced dramas by the major TV stations in Lan City or productions by various entertainment companies, most were filmed here.
"My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday" didn't have many grand scenes—just the everyday moments of the male and female leads meeting, getting to know each other, falling in love, and going on dates. Stuff like amusement parks, rental apartments, movie theaters, nightscapes, and fireworks—none of which required special location scouting.
The only difference was the place where the leads first met. In the original Japanese film, it was on the Shinkansen. Switched to Da Zhou, it became the subway.
By the time Jing Yu returned, Gao Wencang was fully focused on filming.
The script Jing Yu had given him was the writer's version, which still required directorial adaptation to be translated into actual screen visuals.
Exactly how to adapt it and what the final footage would look like depended on the director's skill. However, as the scriptwriter, Jing Yu could still discuss the details with Gao Wencang.
"How's it going? Any updates on the female lead?" Liu Neng wasn't just sitting around idly. As soon as this scene wrapped, the next would have to start preparations.
Though technically the producer of the show, Liu Neng handled far more than just production tasks. Given the manpower shortage, he was basically doing everything, which made Jing Yu view him in a new light.
Maybe Liu Neng hadn't had any standout projects in the past, but on set, he was proficient in managing all departments and handling every aspect smoothly—and without any airs. Unfortunately, with no connections inside the TV station, this was the reality. When it came to promotion, ability was only part of the equation. In fact, it might not even be the most important factor—unless you were extraordinarily capable to a game-breaking level.
"I contacted a few decent-looking actresses through their agencies. Either their fees were too high, or they weren't available. I even personally visited a girl who I thought might agree… but maybe I was overthinking it." Jing Yu gave a bitter smile.
Was his makeshift production team really that bad? Even someone like Yu Youqing, who was struggling to find work, wasn't willing to be his female lead.
"But I've made my position clear to that actress and the other agencies. I've laid all my cards on the table. If they're interested, they can call me before 8 a.m. tomorrow. After that, if no one changes their mind, then that's it," said Jing Yu.
"I see." Liu Neng lit a cigarette.
"No need to look so guilty, Teacher Jing. The whole Song Xin incident was just an accident. You're not to blame."
While Jing Yu had been away, Liu Neng had done some digging to find out whether White Lovers needed any reshoots. The answer was no. He then looked into Jing Yu and Song Xin's personal connections.
It wasn't hard to put the pieces together. Liu Neng had already figured out most of the truth.
"Well, let's go with that plan then. I have a list of five actresses. In terms of looks, experience, and acting skills, they're not on par with Song Xin, but they're not terrible either. If you can't find anyone you're happy with by tomorrow morning, take a look and tell me which one you prefer. That way I can make preparations early."
Their conversation quickly wrapped up.
The weather was pleasant that day—bright and sunny. But the more Jing Yu studied the list Liu Neng had handed him, the gloomier his expression became.
It wasn't that these actresses were bad. But in an industry overflowing with beauties, they were average at best. He could only pick two who stood out even slightly.
Jing Yu could only hope that if they ended up choosing one of these actresses, the makeup artist could perform some cosmetic wizardry—raise their looks by at least 20 or 30 percent.
That night, Yu Youqing sat on her bed, dazed, as she reread the script for 'My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday'.
This was a story that was nearly impossible to grasp fully on the first read.
In Jing Yu's previous life, the manga adaptation of this story was turned into a movie. The first time you watched it, it made you smile. The second time? From start to finish, it just broke your heart.
"This script… he really wrote this?" Yu Youqing looked at the moonlight spilling across her window.
Surprisingly… it was good.
Just from a story perspective, it was genuinely touching.
A bright moon hung high in the sky, wispy clouds drifting gently past.
She recalled what Jing Yu had said before—that White Lovers was garbage in his eyes.
And honestly, based on her own tastes, this script was way better than White Lovers.
Scenes from the script played through her mind. So… he wanted her to play the character "Aimei"?
Yu Youqing's fingers tightened slightly around the script.
Lying on the bed, she glanced at the time—it was already past midnight.
She was conflicted. If the script had been terrible, she would've refused because of Tang Yidong. She wasn't short on money, so why take a role just to let Tang Yidong mock her?
But now…
Tang Yidong didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that she genuinely found this story fascinating. She couldn't predict if it would become popular, but one thing she knew for sure:
She liked it.
But earlier today, she'd turned Jing Yu down so decisively.
Yu Youqing lay there clutching the script, her face clouded with indecision.
"I really misjudged this one. I thought it'd be some trashy low-budget script…"
Now her head was filled with images from My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday—the fantastical romance between Gaoshan and Aimei, the poignant ending after their paths crossed in reverse time…
"I could still call him and say I changed my mind… but I said all those things this morning. And now I'd be crawling back? So embarrassing…"
She felt a twinge of regret. It was the combination of Tang Yidong's interference and her own assumption that the script would be terrible that had made her reject the role so quickly.
If either of those things hadn't been true, given her current situation, she wouldn't have refused.
And this script… was definitely a standout.
"Pride… is it really that important? Just because I like it doesn't mean the audience will. Maybe it won't do well. But being able to play the female lead in a story I truly like… that's still pretty great, isn't it?"
More importantly, Jing Yu had even left her half a day to change her mind.
Yu Youqing felt her mind spiraling—until she suddenly came up with a solution.
She got out of bed and pulled a coin from under her pillow.
"If it lands heads, I'll call him. Tails, I go to sleep."
Kneeling on the bed, she tossed the coin.
It landed with a soft thump.
"Tails…"
Yu Youqing's eyes dimmed.
"Guess I'm going to bed."
She flopped onto the bed in defeat.
Ten minutes later, she sat up again.
"Best two out of three."
She tossed it again. Tails.
"Okay, that was only the first of three," she insisted.
Tossed again. Tails.
Including the first toss, that was three tails in a row.
She blinked. Tossed again. Still tails.
"Four in a row… guess the heavens have spoken," she sighed, collapsing back onto the bed.
"This is a sign from the gods… telling me to stick to my decision."
Sleep. Stop overthinking.
She began mentally hypnotizing herself to fall asleep.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes.
Half an hour.
In the darkness of her room, Yu Youqing suddenly sat bolt upright.
Her eyes were wide open, crystal clear. She hadn't fallen asleep at all.
"But if I really think about it… Whether it was the middle school entrance exam, the high school entrance exam, or the college entrance exam, whenever I guessed my math answers using dice or erasers, my accuracy rate was always below 20%. Every time I prayed or made wishes at temples, none of them came true. When I graduated from college, I drew a fortune at a temple, and the monk told me I'd have a smooth career and meet a talented, handsome boyfriend within a year…"
"Yeah, that all turned out completely wrong. If gods do exist, haven't they just been lying to me all along?"
—
In the middle of the night, Jing Yu was jolted awake by the sudden ringing of his phone.
The first day of shooting had gone all the way to 1:30 a.m., and he'd only been asleep for less than an hour. That groggy, panicked feeling of being yanked out of sleep was the worst.
But someone calling at this hour could only mean one thing—someone had changed their mind.
Jing Yu instantly snapped awake and checked the caller ID.
It wasn't Lu Ying from Qingyun Talent Agency, nor was it Li Meng from Liu Entertainment.
It was…
Yu Youqing.
2:15 a.m.