Chinese entertainment: What's wrong with actresses wanting to improve?

Chapter 278 Celebrating the New Year Abroad

Winters in Los Angeles and Beijing are cold in two different ways.

Beijing's cold is dry and biting, like a knife; the wind stings your face.

The cold in Los Angeles is damp; the sea breeze blowing from the Pacific Ocean carries moisture that seeps into your clothes, and the chill seeps into your skin.

When Fu Yibai came out of the airport, it was already quite dark.

Tom's car was parked outside the terminal, the same black Cadillac, driven by the same white driver in a black suit with a meticulous expression.

"Mr. Fu, welcome back."

"Thank you for your hard work, Tom."

The car drove out of the airport and merged into the traffic on Highway 405.

Fu Yibai leaned back in his chair, watching the palm trees flash by outside the window.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

Anne Hathaway's message: "Almost there?"

Fu Yibai typed back: "Half an hour."

Anne replied instantly: "Waiting for you. Scarlett is here too."

Fu Yibai smiled and put his phone back in his pocket.

By the time the car entered Beverly Hills, it was completely dark, and the mansions on both sides of the mountain road were lit up.

Scarlett's silver Porsche was parked in front of the villa.

The moment Fu Yibai pushed open the door, a fragrant aroma of red wine, tomato meat sauce, and butter wafted towards him.

The living room has been rearranged.

A red "福" (good fortune) character was pasted on the wall, and a pot of daffodils sat on the coffee table—I don't know where they got them from.

CNN news was playing on TV, but the volume was turned down to the lowest setting. Instead, laughter and the clanging of pots and pans came from the kitchen.

"The payment has been returned!"

Scarlett peeked out from the kitchen, her long blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail.

She was wearing a loose white sweater and tight black leather pants, her bare feet on the floor, her toenails painted bright red.

"pay!"

She walked over quickly, stood on tiptoe, and gave him a firm kiss on the lips.

"Missing me?"

I think about it every day.

Scarlett's voice was a little hoarse. She drew a circle on his chest with her finger and then took his hand and led him to the kitchen.

"Annie is making dumplings, come quick! She's made them look like monsters!"

In the kitchen, Anne Hathaway stood in front of the counter, her hands covered in flour, her brow furrowed as she stared at her "creation."

She was wearing a light gray cashmere sweater, her hair was casually tied up with a chopstick, and a few stray hairs hung down by her ears, dyed white by flour.

A row of dumplings was laid out on the counter.

Some looked like ingots, some like wontons, some like flattened buns, and a few were dough balls that were completely unrecognizable.

"Annie, what's that bag you're carrying...?"

"dumpling!"

Anne turned her head and glared at him, but the smile on her lips betrayed her.

"Your Chinese dumplings are too difficult to wrap."

I watched the YouTube tutorial three times, but I still can't get that fold right.

Fu Yibai walked over and took her hand from behind.

"First, place the dough in your palm, then add the filling."

Don't put too much in, or it won't be able to hold its contents.

Then pinch it like this with your thumb and forefinger—

He guided her fingers and pinched a small pleat on the edge of the dumpling wrapper.

Annie leaned against him, her back pressed against his chest, and could feel his heartbeat.

He held her hand; it was warm, dry, and carried a reassuring strength.

"Then the second fold, pressing down on the first, and so on, pushing upwards layer by layer."

Another fold.

Anne's breathing became rapid, as if she was suppressing something.

"Finally, pinch it closed—"

A perfect dumpling lay in her palm.

"You've got it?"

Anne didn't speak, but turned her head to meet his gaze.

Her eyes were glistening with tears, her lips were slightly parted, and her breath carried a sweet, milky scent.

"pay."

"Um?"

Annie kissed him directly.

"Hey, you two!"

Scarlett leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"The dumplings haven't even been put in the pot yet, and you're already kissing?"

Annie blushed, broke free from Fu Yibai's embrace, and lowered her head to continue making dumplings.

Scarlett walked over and wrapped her arms around Fu Yibai's waist from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I want to learn too."

"You didn't even touch the flour."

"Then teach me."

Fu Yibai chuckled, took her hand, and guided her to pinch the pleats of a dumpling.

Scarlett's hands were a size smaller than Anne's, with slender fingers, fair skin, and nails painted a bright red that matched her lips.

"so?"

"Um."

"and then?"

"Press down the first fold and push it upwards."

Scarlett's fingers were very nimble, and she learned faster than Annie.

After three pleats, a barely acceptable dumpling appeared in her palm.

"How is it?"

She held the dumplings up to Annie and raised her eyebrows smugly.

"Prettier than yours."

Annie glanced at it and snorted.

"Crooked."

"That's dumplings too."

The two women started bickering across Fu Yibai, their voices rising and falling, but their eyes were full of laughter.

Fu Yibai stood in the middle, with Annie on his left and Scarlett on his right. The air was filled with the scents of flour, butter, and their perfumes.

The palm trees outside the window swayed gently in the night breeze, while the lights of Los Angeles shone brightly in the distance.

This was his first New Year in the United States.