Natal Province was one of the most economically developed regions in South Africa. Due to its colonial history, many of the notable buildings on the streets bore the distinctive style of the Victorian era.
As Laila rode in the car, she took in the many striking sights along the way. There was no denying that this was a country full of charm—but with one small caveat: if not for the unsettling factors that worried her, it would have been even more appealing.
The experiences Roy and the others had gone through before had left her feeling uneasy from the moment she set foot on this land. If not for the fact that everything was already prepared and the plan was already in motion, she would never have wanted Roy to take such a risk. Fortunately, she had great confidence in Xiao Ye's makeup skills. After his transformation, recognizing Roy among the crew wouldn't be so easy.
The other "Leonardo" was far more troublesome. As the male lead, no matter how much makeup he wore, his face still had to be visible during filming. Aside from stationing more people around him for protection, Laila couldn't think of any better solutions.
"The architecture here is unique, isn't it?" Foska seized the opportunity to chat as he noticed her gazing out the window. "Our people are resilient. These beautiful yet sorrow-laden buildings stand as symbols, reminding us to remain steadfast on the path ahead. We must never allow such tragedies to happen again!"
Laila could tell that this young official loved his country deeply. And who didn't? Even she, a soul who had only her memories left, still longed for the Eastern land that had once nurtured her.
Thinking this, she suddenly felt she shared quite a bit of common ground with him.
"You're right. We must never let such tragedies repeat!" Whether it was the story of blood diamonds in the film or the history of the devastation wrought by foreign powers, she never wanted to see such things happen again.
Foska, assuming she was agreeing with him, felt his goodwill toward her rise several notches. It seemed not all foreigners were domineering—this director was quite reasonable.
The original film in her past life had chosen Port Edward as a filming location, largely due to its rainforests, where most of the movie's scenes could be shot.
Upon arrival, she saw that the crew members who had arrived earlier to set up the backdrop had already completed most of the necessary construction.
"Quite efficient," Laila remarked after inspecting the site, not withholding her praise.
"Not bad. We paid locals to help, and everyone was very diligent and eager to contribute."
Linton, the head of the props team, was also responsible for organizing the workforce this time.
Laila had always believed in delegating authority to her subordinates. As long as they delivered the results she wanted, she had no problem rewarding them. Everyone in the company knew her style, so they naturally understood how far they could go. Those who failed to strike the right balance were either reassigned to less critical roles or given three months' severance and let go.
The same principle applied to this location shoot. After submitting a report to higher-ups, Linton was free to hire locals to assist with construction. Laila's priority was having the set ready for filming within the limited time available. Spending a bit more to hire extra hands was perfectly normal, and she never nitpicked over such "small expenses."
"Make sure the remaining areas are completed as soon as possible. If everything goes well, we'll start shooting tomorrow."
"Got it, Boss! Leave it to us!" Linton agreed cheerfully.
After settling the crew, Laila finally retreated to her accommodation for some rest.
"Filming hasn't even started yet, and you're already this exhausted. What are you going to do when it does?" Roy brought hot water, soaked a towel, wrung it out, and handed it to her.
Laila couldn't even muster the energy to lift a finger. Seeing her like this, Roy was both amused and concerned. He took the towel and gently wiped her face for her.
Since arriving, Laila hadn't bothered with makeup. Running around under the scorching sun had left her drenched in sweat—applying makeup in this heat would have been nothing short of a crime against aesthetics.
Enjoying his attentiveness, she rolled onto her side. "You should go back first. I feel like having you here will distract me."
"Excuses." Roy poked her forehead. He knew her too well. Distraction might be a problem for others, but not for her. She was born for filmmaking. Once immersed in a project, nothing could pull her focus away—not even a meteor crashing overhead or a missile exploding nearby.
"I know you're worried about me," he said, stroking her hair. "But Laila, if I were back in the U.S., unable to see you, I'd be just as anxious."
The previous incident had left him shaken. He couldn't bear the thought of her facing the same danger while he was back home enjoying good food, music, and beer. One thing was certain: he would have hated himself for it and never forgiven himself.
Laila had already guessed his answer and understood his resolve. Truthfully, she had only brought it up half-heartedly, never really expecting him to agree.
"You might have to keep wearing this face around the crew from now on. Are you really okay with that?" She touched his cheek, feeling the adhesive on his skin, and couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
Back in the U.S., the weather was still chilly, but here, just a few steps were enough to work up a sweat. In this heat, she didn't even want to wear makeup, yet he had to endure layers of prosthetics. She could only imagine how uncomfortable it must be.
"It's fine," Roy said, smiling as he took her hand. "Xiao Ye mentioned he's working on a new formula. The updated makeup will be more comfortable, so don't worry."
At the mention of Xiao Ye, Laila finally nodded. Given his background, he must have had experience with missions requiring makeup in sweltering conditions—surely, he wouldn't risk exposure just because of sweat. There had to be a solution.
Just as she was about to bring up another topic, Roy's phone rang. Like Laila, he had two numbers: one for close contacts and another that could be filtered by his agent. Seeing the caller ID, he immediately knew who it was.
"This is Roy," he answered.
"Mr. Seasonstar! It's Bernie!" An excited voice came through the phone. "I'm so sorry to bother you during your busy schedule, but have you seen the newspapers? They've reported about the ring!"
"The ring?" Roy glanced at Laila, guessing she must have mentioned something during the press conference, and the journalists had relayed it back to the U.S. "I'm in South Africa right now, so I haven't seen the U.S. papers. But since it's been reported, let me congratulate you first."