Chapter 690 - Wounded

Chapter 690: Wounded

“To her, your concern will be no different from sympathy and pity. Do you think she needs any of that?” asked Qi Haolin. “You should know her by now. She would rather swallow all the bitterness by herself, rather than have someone pitying her. She doesn’t need pity.”
Liang Chen could only sit down and continue eating, not tasting anything as she ate.
Yan Huan liked to be alone these days. Sometimes she talked and joked with the others, but there was always an unbreachable wall around her. There was always a hint of aloofness in her eyes, and she had become more distant.
It wasn’t her nature to be like this, but the wound in her heart proved too much to recover.
They had a short break after their meal, before rushing to the next set.
Qi Haolin’s Zhang Peng was the comedic relief of the show, while Yan Huan had all the action scenes. The explosion and wire scenes were all done by her, and she worked with such reckless abandon that it made everyone worry.
“Are you going to climb it yourself? I say we use a stunt double instead. It’s too dangerous,” Director Jin advised Yan Huan, his eyes on the natural rock formation looming before them. The next scene required Shi Jia to climb it, but the risk could be reduced if they used a stunt double instead.
“I’ll do it,” said Yan Huan, rolling her sleeves up. It wasn’t her first time, and she was supported by wires too. She would be fine.
“Fine.” Director Jin gave in and invited the wire instructor over to help Yan Huan fasten her harness. To be honest, it wasn’t easy to find a stunt double for her with her current bony figure either. And Yan Huan’s performance spoke for herself too.
Yan Huan had already started making her way up. As she ascended, her air had completely changed. She was no longer Yan Huan, but a savage who thought herself invincible.
She hastened up, the camera following her closely. She was deft and professional, not losing one bit to professional stuntmen.
Then again, she used to be a stuntwoman herself.
Liang Chen shrugged. No one could deny her professionalism, or think that she had spent her one year in the army going through the motions.
“Why push herself this hard?” sighed Zhou Zizhe, shaking his head. “She should just find a good man and settle down.”
“Her husband passed away,” said Liang Chen coolly.
That gave Zhou Zizhe an awkward pause. “I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”
Halfway up the hill, Director Jin waved at Yan Huan.
“Okay, you can start making your way down. Be careful.”
From the middle of the hill, Yan Huan got to take in the breathtaking scenery of the primeval forest for the first time. The place was unpolluted, with fresh air and green vegetation everywhere. Building a house here and watching the sun rise and fall wouldn’t be so bad either. It was a stark contrast from the brick and steel of the cities, a welcome respite from the soulless constructions of civilization.
The higher you stand, the more you could see. That was true, but the wind was so strong at that height it made her face and eyes sting.
She descended slowly. When she was about two meters from the ground, she suddenly felt the wire loosening at her back.
Before she could react, the wire snapped into two, flinging her down.
“Yan Huan…!”
“Watch out!”
She didn’t know who said the words as she came crashing down headfirst into a rock with a loud bang. She felt light-headed, followed by a rush of pain.
The doctor quickly ran over and squatted down beside her.
“Are you alright, Miss Yan? Can you speak?”
“Yes, I can,” said Yan Huan, opening and closing her fingers to check if they were working fine. “I’m fine. My head hurts a little, that’s all.”
The doctor promptly ordered someone to support Yan Huan into a sitting position. The moment she sat up, blood streaked down her face in a terrifying manner. Instinctively, Yan Huan felt the pain intensifying. She reached out to feel the wound, but the doctor stopped her.
“Bring me the first-aid kit,” she thought she heard the doctor say.
A medical gauze was pressed against her head. She shook her head.
“What’s wrong?” asked the doctor cautiously.
“I feel a little dizzy.” And sleepy, as well.
“Hang in there. The helicopter’s coming,” assured the doctor.
“I don’t need a helicopter,” demurred Yan Huan. She didn’t feel like that was necessary. She had hit her head, but she would be fine with a bit of rest. She couldn’t let the injury get in the way of the shooting.
“You do. You have a concussion,” insisted the doctor, in a tone that brooked no arguments. The brain is a delicate organ, and unlike external injuries, there was no way of telling which part had sustained damage at a glance. Medical apparatuses were needed.
Before long, the helicopter arrived. They carried Yan Huan onto it with a stretcher.
“Don’t tell anyone about this,” said Yan Huan, her eyes slightly open. She was still conscious, and she didn’t want her family to worry over such small injuries. They had worried enough.
The doctor could only agree. However, if something did happen to her head, he would still have to inform her family.
When the results came out, everyone heaved a sigh of relief. Her head was fine, apart from the bleeding crack. She had some bruises too, but was otherwise fine.
The helicopter made a turn above the hospital before sending Yan Huan back. In the temporary set, the entire crew was restless. No one was in the mood to film after what happened to Yan Huan. When Yan Huan came out of the helicopter, she was surprised to find everyone doing nothing.
Well, but a break wasn’t such a bad idea either. They had been too busy lately. It had almost been a full month since the shooting began, and everyone deserves a break, even if they were short on time.
Plus, the place was entirely void of entertainment. There was absolutely nothing to do apart from filming and sleeping. Doubtless, the progress was fast, but it wasn’t sustainable.