sinovels Chapter 234 The girl is his lucky star
Chapter 234 The girl is his lucky star
Chapter 234 The girl is his lucky star
The script meeting for the theatrical version lasted from morning until afternoon.
The head of the scriptwriting team spread the outline of the first draft on the table, pointed to a page, and said, "President, to be honest, the scale of this case is too far from that of a serious drama. Smuggling network, three police stations working together, and that political connection—all these things piled up together, it doesn't feel like 'The Great Investigation Team,' it feels like another show."
"What's different about it?" Kitahara Shin asked.
"In the main drama, what is the Qingdao investigation about? Homeless people in a convenience store warehouse, unclaimed bicycles parked there," the head of the scriptwriting team said. "That kind of thing feels real to the audience, like it's something that would happen to them. But the case you're writing now—"
'
"TV dramas can be slow-burning," Kitahara Shin interrupted him. "A TV drama can spend twelve episodes to thoroughly develop a case, allowing the audience to become truly engaged only in the third episode. But movie theaters can't do that. Once the audience buys a ticket and sits in the theater, they have to be gripped from the very first scene, and gripped tightly enough that they can't think about anything else."
"What about the texture of the grass roots?"
"I didn't say we were going to abandon it," Kitahara Shin said. "A larger scale doesn't mean a change in quality. Cases can be big, but Qingdao's approach to these cases is still the same old thing—running errands, hitting walls, being pressured from above, and then moving forward in his own way. The shell has grown bigger, but the people inside haven't changed."
The head of the scriptwriting team frowned and did not speak immediately.
Another screenwriter chimed in: "So how do we handle Muroi's storyline? In the main story, he's always been that wall, but if the case escalates to this level, and he's always just a wall, the audience will get bored."
"So this time, the wall is going to be moved a little," Kitahara Shin said. "Not toppled, but to crack. The audience has been waiting for this moment all season."
The meeting room fell silent for a moment.
The head of the scriptwriting team turned to the next page of the outline, picked up a pen, and said, "Let's start from the first act and start over."
"Yes." Kitahara Shin nodded, "Starting from the first act."
It was almost evening when Rie Miyazawa finished work.
She changed out of her costume on set, wiped her face clean in front of the mirror, checked the time, and instead of calling a car back to her apartment, she asked the driver to take her to the Akasaka office building.
When she went upstairs, she couldn't explain why she had come.
I just wanted to come and see.
There wasn't any particular reason.
The firm had expanded rapidly in the past year or two. As soon as she entered the main entrance, she noticed several unfamiliar faces in the corridor. The receptionist was new, and even the break room seemed to have been moved. She walked down the corridor, occasionally someone would look up and see her—
She paused for a moment, then quickly greeted him, her reaction similar to that of someone treating a guest from out of town—polite but a little distant.
She glanced in the direction of Kitahara Shin's office; the door was closed and there were no lights.
"Ms. Miyazawa." A young assistant jogged over. "Are you here to see the president?"
"Isn't he here?"
"Yes, yes, the president is in the conference room. They've been discussing the script for the new movie since this morning, and it's not over yet."
Rie Miyazawa responded with a sound of agreement and casually asked, "What new movie?"
The assistant looked a little embarrassed, smiled, and said, "It seems to be the movie version of 'Bayside Shakedown,' but I'm not too sure about the specifics."
Rie Miyazawa nodded, swallowing her words.
She was just asking casually, it's nothing.
It's not that he absolutely has to tell her about this; it's not her business, and she has no right to demand anything.
I just don't know how to put it; it feels a bit strange.
She sat down on a chair at the end of the corridor, intending to wait a while.
An hour passed, but the meeting room door remained closed.
After waiting for two hours, I could still hear voices inside, intermittent, sometimes quiet for a while, then they would start talking again, as if they were arguing about something.
By the third hour, she was getting a little hungry. She took out her phone and checked the time; it was already completely dark outside.
Just as she was about to stand up, the conference room door opened.
The group that came out were several people from the screenwriting team. She didn't recognize any of them, but they clearly recognized her—the one in the lead paused for a second, then smiled and greeted her, "Ms. Miyazawa? You've arrived!"
"Um.
"6
"Are you waiting for the president? We'll go call him for you—"
"No need," she waved her hand, "If he's busy, that's fine. I just came to take a look."
No sooner had he finished speaking than another person came out from inside.
Kitahara Shin was holding a stack of manuscript papers, still looking down at them. He only looked up when he reached the door, and when he saw her, his lips twitched slightly.
"When did you arrive?"
"Not long after," Rie Miyazawa said.
Kitahara Shin glanced at her, the corners of his mouth curving upwards slightly: "Oh, then I'll go back to work."
Rie Miyazawa paused for a moment, then reacted, snorted, and turned her face away: "Who asked you to come with me? I just came to take a look. You go about your business."
"it is good."
"—You did this on purpose, didn't you?"
Kitahara Shin chuckled, offered no explanation, tucked the stack of manuscript papers under his arm, and said, "Let's go to the office."
The office lights were on, making it warmer than the hallway.
Rie Miyazawa sat down on the sofa, and Shin Kitahara went to the tea area. Turning back, he asked her, "What would you like to drink?"
"I'm not drinking those anymore," she said. "I haven't been staying up late lately, and I've given up coffee."
"Hot water?"
"OK."
Kitahara Shin was boiling water, and she sat there watching him, watching him drape his coat over the back of his chair and tidy up the papers on the table—
Then he walked over with his cup and sat down next to her.
"How have you been lately?" he asked.
"It's alright." She glanced at him. "And you? You've already started preparing to make a movie, and you didn't even tell me or ask if I wanted to be in it or anything."
"The script is still stuck; I haven't figured it out yet."
"Where is it stuck?"
"Regarding the scale of the case," Kitahara Shin said, "the screenwriters felt that making it too big would distort the reality, but if it wasn't big enough, the film wouldn't be able to hold its own."
Rie Miyazawa thought for a moment and said, "I'm not an expert, and you don't necessarily have to listen, but—"
2
"explain."
"Well—" She paused, pulled her legs back, and turned to the side, "When I was filming that variety show, I went to all sorts of places, and the most common thing people said to me was, 'I never expected there to be such delicious food in this place. I feel like I've never paid attention to my own backyard before.' She looked up at him, "So the grassroots feel you're talking about isn't about how big or small the case is, it's about whether the audience feels that this matter is related to them. As long as they feel it's related, it doesn't matter how big the case is."
Kitahara Shin didn't speak immediately, but lowered his head and thought for a while.
Rie Miyazawa paused for a moment, then added, "Anyway, I was just saying it casually. You, 'It's useful,'" Shin Kitahara said.
She shut her mouth.
Then he took the stack of manuscript papers, flipped to one page, moved a little closer to her, their shoulders almost touching, and placed the page in front of her: "What do you think is the problem with this section?"
Rie Miyazawa looked down at the paper, which was covered with dense writing. She squinted and began to read it carefully.
She wasn't used to being so close, but she didn't want to move.
She remembered the last time she was this close to him was during the filming of "Flower of Evil," and that kiss—
Was all of this a year ago?
She travels around everywhere, filming variety shows and taking on TV dramas. Wherever she goes, people recognize her, shops offer her their best products, cameras are pointed at her, and people shout her name loudly.
She liked that feeling, of course she did.
But she didn't know how to explain why sitting in this office just felt different.
"Here," she pointed to a line of text on the paper, "Qingdao's reaction here is written too cleanly. He shouldn't have figured it out so quickly; he should have made a mistake first."
Kitahara Shin glanced down at it, then picked up his pen and circled the line of text.
"Yes," he said.
Rie Miyazawa stared at the circle for a second, almost laughing, but held it back.
She just wanted to hear him say "yes".
It was such a simple thing, but all year long, she had wanted to hear him say it just once.
Kitahara Shin put the document on the table, turned his head, and found that the two of them were much closer than he had thought.
Rie realized this at the same time. She didn't move, just looked at him, her eyelashes trembling slightly.
The light was warm, illuminating her face clearly.
Kitahara Shin looked at her, and a faint blush slowly rose on her cheeks, not a deep blush, just a thin layer, as if she had been burned by something, or as if she didn't know what to do.
He swallowed.
The office windows are one-way; people inside can see out, but those outside can't see anything except their own reflections. Occasionally, footsteps can be heard in the corridor, and shadows can be seen flickering by through the glass, but those people have no idea what's happening inside.
Kitahara Shin slowly approached her and then gently kissed her lips.
Just a moment, very lightly, as if asking her.
Rie was stunned. Her eyes widened, and she stared at him without blinking. The blush on her face deepened.
Then she slowly closed her eyes.
The two of them sat there in the quiet office, the lights of Tokyo stretching out outside the window, neither of them speaking.
After a while, Kitahara Shinichi quietly left, then looked up at her.
Rie opened her eyes, glanced at him first, then turned her face away, rubbed her lips with the back of her hand, and whispered, "You scumbag."
Kitahara Shin laughed, a very low laugh, without denying it, only saying, "Yes, yes, I'm a bad man."
Rie snorted, but still didn't look at him.
Kitahara Shin leaned back in his chair, casually gathered the documents on the table, and said, "What you just said gave me some direction. I roughly know how the script should proceed from here on out."
"I was just saying," Rie said, her voice still a little awkward, "Don't make it sound like I did something really important."
"I helped." Kitahara Shin nodded earnestly.
Rie didn't reply. She was quiet for a moment, then felt his hand fall on her hair, stroking it very lightly, without any other movement, just leaving it there.
She didn't dodge.
"Where are we going to tonight?" Kitahara Shin asked her.
Rie's heart skipped a beat. She glanced at him, then looked away, her fingers tightening slightly. In a calm tone, she said, "I haven't decided yet."
Kitahara Shin looked at her profile, his fingers slowly tracing the ends of her hair, and then said, "Then don't rush off."
He paused.
"Don't worry, I'll be good to you," he said, his tone not cheesy, but very sincere. "Tell me what you've encountered while you've been out, what fun things you've experienced, and what you want me to do for you. Tell me."
Rie listened to him speak, felt the warmth of his hand, remained silent for a while, and then spoke very softly.
"I hope you'll praise me more."
After she finished speaking, she realized that she had been a bit childish and wanted to add something, but she didn't say anything.
Kitahara Shin paused for a moment, then looked down at her and said earnestly, "You've done very well lately."
Rie looked up at him.
"It's not just polite talk," he said. "You carried that show from beginning to end by yourself. I watched it, and you did an even better job than I expected."
Rie stared at him for a while, her eyes welling up a little, but she held back, turned her face away, and softly hummed in agreement.
Tokyo outside the window was brightly lit, but you couldn't see anything inside.
The curtains in the Kitahara Shin Apartment were thick, and in the morning light, only a thin slit would seep in from the edge, casting a faint shadow on the floor.
Rie woke up first.
When she woke up, she didn't move. She just stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to the occasional car sounds passing by outside the window. Then she turned her head and glanced at Kitahara Shin, who hadn't opened his eyes yet.
When he was asleep, his expression was much more relaxed than usual; his eyebrows were flat, and his breathing was steady.
Rie watched for a while, then quietly sat up.
-
Kitahara Shin opened his eyes.
"Awake?" His voice was a little hoarse as he turned to look at her.
"Um."
"What do you want to eat?" he asked directly. "I'll make it, or I can go out and buy it. You decide."
Rie thought for a moment and said, "Do you have any eggs here?"
"have."
"Then just make something simple," she paused, "nothing too complicated."
Kitahara Shin responded, sat up, and went to get dressed.
Rie sat on the bed, hugging her knees, watching his back, and suddenly said, "Wait a minute."
Kitahara Shin turned around.
"Give me my bag," Rie said. "I have something for you."
The bag was on the chair. Kitahara Shin took it and handed it to her, then sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her rummage through the bag.
Rie rummaged around for a while, took something out, placed it between the two of them, then looked up at him with a slightly unnatural smile, and said, "I was out of town on your birthday and couldn't come back, so I didn't bring you a gift."
"It's alright," Kitahara Shin said, "during that time—"
'
"I know you don't lack company," Rie interrupted him, her tone flat, but her eyes darted to the side, "that's not what I meant."
She pushed the thing towards him.
Kitahara Shin lowered his head and took the thing she handed him.
It is a seal.
It wasn't new; the edges of the stone had been smoothed by wear, and the bottom of the seal was engraved with a pattern he couldn't quite understand. There were a few shallow scratches on the side, indicating that it had been used for many years. But it was very well preserved, and it felt heavy in his hand, giving him a very solid feel.
"When I was filming in Kyoto," Rie said, her tone a little awkward, "I passed by a secondhand shop and saw it. I don't know why I bought it, I just thought—you might like it."
She paused for a moment, then added, "I don't really understand your hobby of collecting old things, but I just buy them whenever I see them. If you don't like them..."
Kitahara Shin didn't respond to her words. He turned the seal over to look at the seal face, then turned it back to look at the engravings on the side. He looked very focused, as if he was trying to identify something.
Then the system notification sounded quietly in his mind.
[Acquire new equipment: Creator's Intuition - Ink Mark Seal (Purple - Epic)]
[Type: Item/Creative Enhancement]
[Description: Inspiration never comes from nowhere; it hides in someone's eyes, in the gaps between words, in a moment you thought you had forgotten.]
[Equipment Effect 1: Narrative Penetration (Host Exclusive). When the wearer is experiencing a creative block, this effect automatically triggers a breakthrough in thinking, allowing them to accurately pinpoint the core fulcrum of the narrative structure and concretize a vague creative direction.]
[Equipment Effect 2: Project Enhancement (Globally Shared). During the holding period, the completion quality of all ongoing creative projects under the host's control will be improved, team collaboration friction will be reduced, and the progress of key milestones will be accelerated.]
[Additional effect: The host's judgment remains undisturbed under high-pressure decision-making environments, maintaining clarity and focus at all times.]
Kitahara Shin held the seal in his hand and raised his head again.
I felt a little incredulous.
He didn't expect this to happen like this—it wouldn't be handed to him by a sleepy-eyed girl wearing his coat, nor would it be accompanied by a "I don't know why I bought it."
Rie frowned, her ears turning slightly red, as she noticed he remained silent. Her tone grew increasingly uneasy: "What are you looking at?"
"Just say whether you like it or not. If you don't like it, give it back to me."
Kitahara Shin grasped the seal, raised his head, and spoke half a sentence. Before he could finish the sentence, he raised his arm and pulled her around the waist, embracing her tightly.
Rie was startled by his action and bumped into his arms, her hands instinctively bracing against his chest. Her ears turned bright red, and she whispered, "What are you doing? Why did that so suddenly?"
Kitahara Shin didn't let go, but lowered his head to rub the top of her hair and said, "I like it better in the first one."
"It's this one."
Rie didn't say anything, slowly pulled her hand away from him, and leaned against him quietly. Her heart was beating a little fast, but she didn't move.
The light filtering through the edge of the curtains gradually brightened, casting long shadows of the two people on the floor.
When Kitahara Shin went to the kitchen, he mentally reviewed the effects of that piece of equipment once again.
He stood in front of the stove, cracked an egg, and thought about the script problem that had gotten him stuck last night.
Suddenly, my thoughts became clear.
It wasn't something he forced to figure out; it just clicked. It was like something had been moved, and the path ahead naturally became clear. He had been struggling to find an angle to address the core issue of the theatrical version, but now it was as if someone had pierced through that layer of paper, revealing the underlying structure clearly.
He mentally went over that direction, and the more he thought about it, the clearer it became. He stood there with the spatula for almost a minute without moving.
This is the second time.
The first time was a long time ago, when she gave him an amulet that he had never expected.
This happened again.
Another purple-tier item.
Kitahara Shin looked down at the eggs on the stove, and his lips twitched slightly.
The people around him each have their own personalities and thoughts, but they all have one thing in common: they seem to be his lucky stars, and none of them know it.
Are you spacing out?
Rie came out from inside, her hair casually tied up, wearing his coat, and stood at the kitchen doorway looking at him.
"Thinking about things."
"Have you thought it through?"
"I've made up my mind." Kitahara Shin moved his hands again, pushed the eggs around, and turned to look at her. "Come sit down, it'll be ready soon."
Rie walked over, sat down on the chair next to her, looked up at the window. It was a bright morning in Tokyo, and there were already people on the street.
She pulled his coat tighter around her, said nothing, but had a warm smile on her lips.