He plays Feng Yuxiu, and his girlfriend is a fairy-like beauty.

Ye Mo spent half a month on the set of "Infernal Affairs".

Half a month is enough for one person to figure out all the rules on set.

Who admits to liking iced lemon tea? Which lighting technician has the worst temper when focusing? Liu Weiqiang's silence before yelling "cut" is longer than others.

Ye Mo not only figured out the rules, he also made himself a part of them.

His habit is to be the first to arrive in the group.

Every day at 6:30, while the lighting crew is still adjusting the reflector angles, he is already sitting in the dressing room flipping through the script.

It's not about translating your own lines.

He memorized the entire storyboard, knowing exactly where the cameras would move, from which direction the lights would shine, and when the other actors' lines would stop and start.

Makeup artist Ah Ling is a veteran of Sammo Hung's stunt team. When she first saw him flipping through the storyboard, she was stunned for a moment and said, "You're not going to be a director, why are you memorizing this?"

Ye Mo said that if you know how others film, you know how you should cooperate.

Ah Ling said something to the props team member when she had dinner with him later.

The rumor spread on set—that the young man from the mainland, Xiao Ye, wasn't there to act; he was there to join the army.

My daily morning routine is to buy milk tea.

I'm not buying it for myself, I'm buying it for the whole group.

Wag-Ge Iced Lemon Tea - Less Sugar, Less Ice.

Photographer Ali asked for an extra milk foam topping in his milk tea made with stockings.

In his view, photographers are people you can't afford to offend.

Liu Weiqiang's Pu'er tea was brewed from the old tea cake that Hong Jin had given him.

Ye Mo asked A-Qiang to help him memorize it. After three days, A-Qiang said, "Just make a table for me, I can't memorize it."

Ye Mo actually made a list and saved it in his phone's notes app, ordering food according to the list every morning.

Once, Zhang Yuan went with him to pick up milk tea and saw that there were more than a dozen cups stacked on the back seat, with each person's name written on the cup lid with a marker.

She said your eight million yuan salary wasn't for you to be a food delivery driver.

Ye Mo carefully inserted the straws one by one, saying that the eight million was for playing Chen Yongren, and buying milk tea was for being Ye Mo, they were two different things.

He's still a newcomer, so he needs to be good at navigating social interactions.

Who knows, when he gets a role in the future, he might be the first person people think of.

Zhang Yuan didn't say anything more.

When discussing roles, Ye Mo didn't say much.

Andy Lau once asked him in the dressing room, "What do you think of the next scene where you're being interrogated at the police station?"

Ye Mo thought for half a minute and said one word—"Stop."

Andy Lau raised an eyebrow.

Ye Mo said that in the scene where Chen Yongren is sitting in the interrogation room, opposite Liu Jianming.

One undercover agent is interrogating another undercover agent. Both are lying, but both know the other is lying.

This kind of show shouldn't be shown to the public; it should be kept under wraps.

The more dangerous a person is, the quieter they are.

After listening, Andy Lau remained silent for a moment, then turned to a new page of his script, which was already covered in annotations, and wrote two words in the blank space: "Stop, be quiet."

A four-time Best Actor winner is listening to a newcomer explain acting techniques and taking notes.

If the media captures this scene, the headlines will be explosive.

But Andy Lau did it very naturally, as if it were something he took for granted.

Just as Ye Mo was about to reply, Zeng Zhiwei interrupted him by holding up an iced lemon tea from the side: "Alright, Ye—every time you say 'I just have a little idea,' you end up dissecting the entire play. Last time you said 'just a little idea,' Jia Dong and I discussed it in the hallway for half an hour."

Lin Jiadong nodded beside him, sucking on his straw without saying a word, but the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

Huang Qiusheng didn't say much.

But after the rooftop scene, he would nod to Ye Mo every day after work.

It wasn't just a polite nod; it was the kind of "you can do it, I acknowledge it" kind of agreement.

One day, about two weeks later, he passed by Ye Mo's chair and suddenly stopped, glancing down at the script in Ye Mo's hand.

The script was covered in annotations, with several different colors of ink, and the edges of each page were frayed from being turned so many times.

Huang Qiusheng didn't say anything, put his thermos next to Ye Mo's chair, and turned to leave.

Ah Qiang leaned over and whispered, "Brother Qiu Sheng doesn't usually share tea with others."

Ye Mo picked up the cup of tea and took a sip.

Pu'er tea comes from the same mountain as the one in the jar owned by Hong Jinbao.

That afternoon, Ye Mo's scene was the third one.

After filming the last shot, Liu Weiqiang called "cut" from behind the monitor. Ye Mo did not squat back next to the monitor to watch the playback as usual.

He stood up, dusted off his jeans, placed the prop gun on the prop table, and walked towards the dressing room.

Lin Jiadong was the first to realize something was wrong.

He looked up from his script and at Ye Mo's retreating figure: "Xiao Ye, aren't you going to watch the replay?"

"I'm not watching it today."

Zeng Zhiwei slammed the iced lemon tea on the table: "Are you sure you don't want to watch? Director Liu hasn't said anything yet. Aren't you usually the last to leave—why the change today?"

His tone carried a deliberately exaggerated scrutiny.

It's like discovering that someone who always eats on time has suddenly skipped lunch.

Andy Lau leaned back in his chair, looked up from the script at Ye Mo, and said nothing.

But his eyebrows twitched.

Ye Mo had already reached the door of the dressing room when he turned back and said, "I have something to do today."

"What could be more important than watching the replay?" Lin Jiadong pressed.

"Private matter."

Huang Qiusheng, who had been resting with his eyes closed in the corner, opened one eye at this moment.

He watched Ye Mo push open the door to the dressing room, and after the door closed, he turned to look at Zeng Zhiwei.

Zeng Zhiwei was also looking at him.

The two men, who had been in the underworld for a combined sixty years, exchanged a look—a look that said, "I understand, young people have their own things to do."

Zhang Yuan waited for Ye Mo in the corridor.

She was holding a tablet computer with next week's schedule on it.

Seeing Ye Mo come out, she pushed up her glasses: "The car is downstairs. I called it in advance, just like you said."

She paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you need me to come along?"

"Need not."

"A private trip?"

"private."

Zhang Yuan didn't ask any more questions.

She closed the tablet and watched Ye Mo walk into the elevator.

Before the elevator doors closed, she added, "Be in the dressing room at eight o'clock tomorrow, don't be late."

Ye Mo nodded.

The elevator went down.

Ye Mo leaned against the elevator wall, looking down at his hands.

My fingers smelled of the metal from the prop gun, mixed with the smell of alcohol from the dressing room.

He rubbed his fingers on his pants and then took his phone out of his pocket.

There's a WeChat message on the screen, sent two hours ago.

Liu Yifei: "I've arrived. The event starts at 3 PM and ends at 5 PM. After that, I'll be free. Let me know when you're done."

A location is attached below.

An event at a high-end brand flagship store in Tsim Sha Tsui.

Ye Mo replied: "Finished work, on my way."

The reply came almost instantly: "Okay, I've booked the place, I'll send it to you."

The place she was referring to was a private clubhouse café on the top floor of a building in Tsim Sha Tsui.

It's not one of those shops with a sign hanging at the entrance; it's a place you can only get into if you're introduced by someone you know.

The owner is not in the entertainment industry, and most of the customers are also not in the industry. Occasionally there are a few celebrities—but they are the kind of celebrities who don't need to be photographed or photograph others.

Privacy, quiet.

No one will hold up their phone to take a picture of you.

Ye Mo got into the car, and the street scene outside the window changed from the old industrial area of ​​Tseung Kwan O to the neon sea of ​​Tsim Sha Tsui.

His fingers tapped a rhythm on his knees—not out of anxiety, but out of anticipation.

He spent half a month on set, and he was the actor who left the latest and arrived the earliest in the entire crew, spending more than ten hours a day studying the script.

But he's not a machine; there are times when he can't hold on any longer.

It was Liu Yifei's WeChat messages that kept them going—she would send a message every morning asking, "Have you started work yet?"

Every night after work, I send out the message "How was your day?"

Sometimes he replies quickly, and she'll send him an emoji.

One emoji was enough to get him back to the hotel.

Of course, all of this was done to gain Liu's mother's approval.

Only if she approves can she be with Liu Yifei openly and honestly.

The car was parked in the alley behind a building in Tsim Sha Tsui.

Ye Mo put on his mask, pulled his hat brim down, and went in through the back door.

The elevator is an old-fashioned sliding door type, making a clanging sound when it runs, just like the elevator at Liu Weiqiang's studio in Kwun Tong.

The elevator doors opened, and there was no sign at the entrance of the coffee shop, only a wooden door.

Warm yellow light shone through the crack in the door.

Ye Mo pushed open the door.

.......