Chapter 8
They checked into the hotel at noon. Zong Mo’s room was at the end of the hallway, with An Lan next door. His new assistant, Little Wan—a small but efficient young man whom he was meeting for the first time—was in the room on the other side of An Lan, providing a strong sense of security.
It was said that the previous male lead Director Yang Lexing had chosen was also a “vase” who relied on his face, with acting skills on par with Zong Mo’s. But after much hesitation, and with expectations of one day becoming a huge star, he had ultimately bailed at the last minute on this low-budget film that was wildly testing the boundaries of censorship.
An Lan’s work philosophy, however, coincided with that of the boss surnamed Ruan. Infamy was still fame. If you have the assets to sell “bromance,” why not sell it? To be dreaming of a meteoric rise while still being a complete nobody, and to view a resource others could only dream of as a black mark on one’s record, was truly as stupid as it gets.
If not for that, Zong Mo wouldn’t have been able to pick up this opportunity.
This was also the first job Zong Mo had attracted through his own abilities. An Lan was full of fighting spirit, poised and ready to get to work.
They had already missed the opening ceremony banquet, but the necessary courtesies couldn’t be skipped. So An Lan said to Zong Mo, “Your first scene is tomorrow, but since it’s our first meeting and you’re considered a newcomer, let’s go greet the director this afternoon and get used to the film set.”
They had just arrived in City L, but Zong Mo was listless and lacked energy. “I’m so sleepy. Can I catch up on sleep this afternoon?”
An Lan: ?
Zong Mo’s state today looked similar to the day of the magazine shoot; it didn’t seem like he was lying.
So she asked, “You didn’t rest well last night?”
Zong Mo, feeling dizzy, held up five fingers and said, “It was five nights.”
An Lan: …
“And this morning, I was up at five!”
The flight was at nine-something, and it was only a little over half an hour’s drive from Ruan Chi’s house to the airport. Zong Mo wasn’t even wearing makeup today. Why did he get up so early?
An Lan was silent for a moment, then said, “Fine. You sleep.”
Zong Mo caught up on sleep in the afternoon. At night, he wasn’t as tired and had trouble getting used to the new bed, so he didn’t fall asleep until the latter half of the night.
With no one beside him to pat him awake, both his alarm and his phone calls were useless; he could just reach out a hand and turn them off.
He wrapped himself tightly in the quilt, turned a deaf ear, ignored everything, and continued to sleep.
Until his hotel room door was forcibly broken open by An Lan, who had gotten the front desk to help.
Zong Mo: ?
Did he, a celebrity, have no privacy anymore?
An Lan said, exasperated, “Big brother, can you please see what time it is?!”
Zong Mo picked up his phone: a little past nine.
Fuck, I forgot to make breakfast for CEO Ruan!
He shot up, then collapsed back onto the bed, looking around and letting out a sigh of relief. He had already escaped. He didn’t have to cook today.
An Lan: ?
An Lan drove him to the film set. Zong Mo, for a rare change, enjoyed the treatment of a star, sitting in the back seat and playing on his phone.
He also took the opportunity to report his movements to his sponsor daddy via WeChat.
Yesterday on the plane, Ruan Chi had left him a message, telling him to let him know when he arrived. Now, the last message was still yesterday’s “I’ve arrived.”
As a dutiful golden canary, Zong Mo proactively sent another message: [Heading to the set now.]
The car stopped. Ruan Chi’s reply finally came: [Mm.]
Zong Mo realized his sponsor was the type of person who would rather meet in person than call, and would rather call than text. Plus, they both had work, so he didn’t say any more.
Now, he could properly enjoy his freedom!
He just didn’t expect to be put in his place as soon as he arrived at the set.
Yang Lexing, as a young and promising new director, not only led by example but was also strict with his actors.
Director Yang didn’t seem to have any issue with him not paying a visit in advance or being an hour late for the official shoot. He just temporarily moved the group fight scene, where he first meets the female lead, to be the first one.
An Lan skillfully called for a stunt double.
Director Yang raised an eyebrow. “There are no stunt doubles on my set.”
Meanwhile, the actress playing the female lead, Yun Jie, Yin Qiao, was casually chatting with a girl who looked remarkably similar to her in both build and appearance.
Director Yang’s ability to lie through his teeth seemed no worse than An Lan’s.
Director Yang didn’t try to hide it either, saying, “Yin Qiao is a newlywed and more than a month pregnant. She can’t be overworked, so for less important long shots, we’ll use a double.”
An Lan: …
Director Yang really didn’t follow the beaten path. Not only was he willing to cast a little fresh meat with terrible acting skills, but he was also willing to cast a newly pregnant actress.
An Lan couldn’t help but suspect that the common denominator between the two leads was probably: they were cheap.
“By the way, don’t tell anyone. Little Qiao doesn’t want to announce her pregnancy. The pressure is too great. She’ll announce it after the baby is born.”
But Zong Mo wasn’t pregnant, and he was a 188cm tall man. Of course, there was no reason to use a stunt double.
He himself knew nothing about acting, so he didn’t care about using a double or not, but An Lan was still fighting for him. “Director Yang, we can’t let Zong Mo’s face get hurt.”
“The stunt actors know what they’re doing. At most, a few scrapes, which will heal in a few days. Even if you rely on your face for a living, you can’t be this fussy. If you can’t even get a single scratch, then you might as well quit this line of work early.”
This was the first time she had encountered a director who hadn’t been “handled” by Ruan Chi. An Lan finally felt a bit troubled. She tried to hint, “Director Yang, our Zong Mo’s body also can’t be injured…”
Zong Mo: …
Director Yang let out a “heh” and said, “Don’t worry, it’s not that easy to break.”
Actually, Zong Mo wanted to try a fight scene too. He strode forward to stop the two from clashing and asked, “Director Yang, can the stunt actors fight?”
Director Yang: ?
Zong Mo: “I’m not very familiar with fight scenes. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself from fighting back.”
Director Yang: “Hehe, go ahead and try.”
How was it that Director Yang’s tone was so similar to his CEO Ruan?
Zong Mo changed his clothes and got his makeup done, experiencing the first group beating of his life in a dilapidated alley.
The film set was located in City L, which was further north than City A. The low temperature in mid-December had already dropped below zero. Wearing only a thin autumn school uniform, Zong Mo didn’t even need foundation; his face and lips were already frozen two shades whiter.
An Lan didn’t understand. The story clearly took place in winter, so why was the male lead dressed so lightly?
Director Yang just asked her, “Have you ever seen the male lead of a youth-pain film wear a padded cotton jacket?”
The logic was what it was.
Zong Mo also thought it was reasonable, but it was really cold. At least he could stick on a few heat packs. It was also thanks to the good physique he had developed during this time that he could hold on a little longer.
Director Yang discovered he wasn’t as fussy as he had imagined and was somewhat satisfied, though his expression remained serious.
The fight scene was filmed at a much slower speed. The stunt actors would first rehearse the moves with Zong Mo, and when filming began, they would give him a soft vocal cue with every punch and kick.
Even though the movements were slow, the force was still there; otherwise, it would lack impact after being sped up in post-production, and sharp-eyed viewers would be able to see the weakness of the punches. Although many film and television dramas would fudge this, Director Yang’s standards were extremely high.
They went through the slow-motion fight several times, but Director Yang just kept shaking his head.
“Cut.”
Even in slow motion, Zong Mo was tired from dodging.
Being a golden canary wasn’t this tiring.
“Zong Mo, you’ve memorized the moves, right? We’ll do it once at normal speed in a bit. You can also improvise and ad-lib on the spot. The point is to create an intense effect. Do you all understand?”
An Lan was shocked. Director Yang was really going to let Zong Mo get hit.
But Zong Mo nodded and said, “Okay.”
What a joke. He was a Big Fierce 1 who slept with a CEO every night.
What a joke to think he’d actually get hit after rehearsing in advance.
A man’s pride and competitive spirit surged up at once!
His biceps, triceps, and abs were not just for show, okay?
“Come on!” Zong Mo called out to the stunt actors, full of fighting spirit.
Just as a foot was kicking towards his abdomen, An Lan’s phone rang.
It was the unique ringtone he had set specially for CEO Ruan.
Afraid of hanging up on the wrong call in a half-asleep state, he had changed the ringtone after being called over for a late-night “session.”
He froze for a second and was kicked squarely. He flew backwards, only stopping when he hit the corner of the wall.
He scrambled up from the ground, having conveniently bitten the blood packet in his mouth when he fell. Besides the taste of tomato, there seemed to be a real hint of blood. But the other stunt actor, who was supposed to continue hitting him, thought this was all part of the act. He even thought, how did this little celebrity’s acting skills suddenly soar? and got fired up himself.
His fist, carrying grains of sand, swung fiercely towards that pale little face.
Zong Mo couldn’t dodge completely. The force of the punch grazed his face, and he felt a slight coolness on his cheek.
The skin on his face was delicate, and even a small scrape was noticeably painful. He covered his face. His lips, already injured twice, were now crimson like blood, looking incredibly pitiful.
He was cornered. What followed was a passive beating of fists and feet; he just needed to curl up, protect his head, and defend himself.
This time he didn’t have to dodge. The kicks weren’t real kicks; it would all be done with sound effects in post-production.
After the kicking was over, the stunt actors stepped back, leaving the battered and bruised male lead for a close-up shot.
Normally, this would be the time to yell “cut,” apply some “battle-damaged” makeup, and then do the next scene. But the director didn’t yell, so the experienced actors continued filming.
The tall, slender young man lay on the ground, his hands clutching his abdomen, his face as pale as paper, his beautiful phoenix eyes veiled in a mist of tears. He tried to get up, but the slightest movement made him cough, with prop blood still hanging from the corner of his mouth.
He subconsciously wiped his lips with his fingertips, but only smeared the blood further, seeming to stain even the corners of his eyes.
Fuck, how is he sexier than a woman?
That’s what the script said, and that’s what the stunt actor playing the gang leader thought.
He licked his lips and recited his line with genuine feeling, “Damn it, this kid Yu Chi… look at his eyes, tsk, like he wants to eat me. I say, why don’t we teach him a lesson he’ll never forget…”
Next, five big men started to strip Yu Chi’s clothes.
To make the fight look good, the zipper of his school uniform jacket was already half-open. In just a few moves, they had ripped off his jacket, leaving only a cotton long-sleeved T-shirt underneath that had been washed so many times it had lost its elasticity, loose and drafty.
Zong Mo shivered from the cold and gasped for a few breaths.
“Let… let go of me…”
“Let us guys have some fun, and we’ll let you go.”
“Fuck!”
Zong Mo also roared the line with genuine feeling, improvising by throwing a punch, only to have it firmly caught by the experienced stunt actor, who then restrained his hand.
Zong Mo: ?
Another stunt actor also ad-libbed, grabbing Zong Mo’s other hand and pulling him into a spread-eagle position.
Now, all he could do was kick his legs in a last-ditch struggle, his face filled with genuine panic, terrified that his ass was really in danger.
“Damn it, let go of me, you sons of bitches!!!”
“If you dare touch me, you’re finished, damn it, I’ll kill you… mmmph.”
Listen to these lines the screenwriter wrote for Yu Chi. They were all extremely fitting for the persona of a virtuous woman about to be violated.
Zong Mo’s mouth was covered. The tears in the corners of his eyes finally squeezed out. He cried and whimpered, looking extremely easy to bully.
The stunt actor thanked God he was a straight man, otherwise he might have actually gotten hard.
The female lead, Yin Qiao, waiting at the entrance of the alley, wasn’t sure what was happening inside. She waited patiently for the director to call her in, but as she listened to the sounds…
Director Yang, on the other hand, was watching this good show with rapt attention, clicking his tongue in admiration from time to time.
“Brilliant.”
An Lan was scared silly, repeatedly yelling “Cut, cut, cut,” “Stop it.”
The stunt actors were waiting for the director to yell cut, but they wouldn’t obey just anyone’s “cut.” They were in a difficult position. They couldn’t look up to ask the director either; if they looked away, it would have to be edited out, and editing meant a pay cut.
The man who had arrived at the set early to surprise his friend followed the sound and found the alley.
The first thing he saw was a girl peeking and peering at the alley entrance.
To be precise, a woman. It was the actress Yin Qiao, with whom he had worked before. From her current attire, it seemed she was playing a high school student for a role. A lighting technician and a cameraman were standing next to her.
But… was this kind of peeking, as if watching a show, also part of the script?
He had read the script beforehand and remembered this wasn’t a comedy; it was a drama.
He thought for a moment, noticed the cameraman wasn’t filming at the moment, and went over to peek his own head out.
And then—
What… is this?
On the rough ground between the crowd, that beautiful little face, like a pear blossom in the rain, was being held down tightly, casting a wavering, pleading gaze in his direction.
In that instant, his heart clenched fiercely. He completely forgot this was a film set and rushed forward like an arrow. “Stop it! What are you doing?”
