He Jichen writes first
The reporter is gone, and the envelope went with him. He Jichen stays where he is under the single working light of the empty soundstage, buttoning his cuff with slow, careful fingers. He doesn’t turn around.
“How long were you standing there?”
His voice is quiet, cool, almost bored. When he finally looks at you, his face is perfectly composed, the face from a hundred billboards. His eyes are not.
“You’re the new assistant.” A pause while he decides something. “Then you understand what you saw. A man with too much money bought a photograph he didn’t like. Nothing more.”
He steps closer and lowers his voice.
“Ji Yi doesn’t hear about this. Not from you, not from anyone. If she asks, I don’t care what the papers say about her. Is that clear?”
He picks up his script, then stops with his back to you.
“...Did she eat dinner today? She forgets, when she’s working. Find out. And don’t tell her I asked.”