Chapter 263: Sleep Together (1)
Bo Yan canceled all his plans after posting on his blog, telling the company he needed a day off, and just waited at Qingcheng Apartnt.
Thinking Siyu might be hungry, he made her favorite sandwich with a poached egg.
He also brewed a big pot of coffee for himself, arranging two cups.
Two sandwiches, two cups of coffee. Bo Yan sat on the sofa and waited.
He waited from dawn till dusk and into the deep night, but Xia Siyu still hadn’t returned.
Later on, Bo Yan awoke with a start from his sleep, got up from the sofa, and checked the ti on his phone—it was one in the morning.
Xia Siyu still hadn’t co back.
But that was normal, artists like them spinning like tops every day. If he hadn’t canceled all his plans today, he would probably be at an event himself from nine in the evening until eleven, then driving back ho, arriving around this ti.
Sotis they were so busy that they would finish late at night, have events early the next day, and it was common for them to spend the night at a nearby hotel. Though artists have high salaries, their work hours are indeed incredibly erratic and exhausting.
As a result, many accomplished artists had no choice but to cut down their workload, filming only one TV series and one film a year without appearing on any variety shows, so they could spend the rest of their ti with family. Otherwise, joining a film crew ans months without a break, then coming back to run around for various events; to say nothing of a normal family life, even sitting down together for a al was a luxury.
Bo Yan got up, from the big pot of coffee he’d brewed earlier, he’d especially saved half a cup for her.
Thinking she wouldn’t drink it at this ti, he poured it into his own cup.
Just as he finished pouring, a ssage ca through on his phone. It was from Song Fengzhi: “Bro Yan, are you really selling the house?”
Bo Yan hesitated for a mont, then nodded, “Yes.”
He owned a villa in the suburbs, where he used to live. But now, having decided to be with Xia Siyu, he naturally had no need to stay there.
Another important reason he wanted to sell the house was that he had already beco a Best Actor. To climb any higher, he had to sweep the three major awards in China or the three Grand Awards of Europe (Cannes, Venice, Berlin Film Festival) for Best Actor, or win an Oscar. Otherwise, how could he rise further?
The path of an actor might seem easy, but truly it’s quite difficult. Even if he delivered a dazzling performance, with a poor script, team, or co-star, he might miss the award. And even if he perford splendidly, there was always the chance of coming head-to-head with outstanding films from other countries, ending up a failure.
The quickest thod was: to beco a director.
Bo Yan always dread of being a film director. He studied film culture and arts for his doctorate and took courses in photography and directing. In filmmaking, dostically or internationally, the director’s authority was unquestionable. Even as a top-level actor, the director was still the one in charge on set. But as a director himself, rising to the top would be much easier.
To direct, to shoot films, to pull in investnts required money. Like the director of “Spring Light,” though he had been an executive director for many years, when he led his first major project, people still didn’t accept it. Bo Yan was unwilling to seek investnts from the Bo Family, and his villa was luxurious, worth over a hundred million, selling it was the quickest option.
If he made it as a director and gained influence, the Bo Family and Xia Family could no longer control them.
As they were speaking, the door suddenly opened—it was Xia Siyu.
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