I Became Famous in the Entertainment Industry with High Martial Arts Skills - Chapter 44

Chapter 44: Set Visit

The reaction on the screen was exactly like Xiao Yuan’s—a massive explosion of bullet comments.

“O! M! G! My god, is this still my gentle second male lead baby?” “That horse-riding sequence was so smooth, so handsome!” “I was just eating, and then BAM, a bloody severed head appears…” “The contrast in Wan Yuya before and after is huge, but I love it, hehe.” “So, has Wan Yuya become the Sixth Prince’s killing tool?” “Probably. In the setting, the second lead and the male lead are still sworn enemies.”

Many were stunned by the imagery of Wan Yuya galloping through the night, while sharp-eyed viewers caught the narrative details. The male lead had already made contact with the Ninth Prince, who stayed out of the spotlight. With the current Emperor aging and no Crown Prince appointed, the struggle for the throne was emerging, and undercurrents swirled among the adult princes.

Gu Huaizhou had discovered through his adoptive father that the execution of his entire family was linked to the maternal clan behind the Sixth Prince. Naturally, he could not serve under him. This meant he was destined to diverge from Wan Yuya, each serving a different master.

By this point, Han River Crossing had transitioned into its main plot. The previews showed the pace tightening: the Dengwen Drum case, the floating corpse case, the salt smuggling corruption case, the iron ore case… multiple cases were interlinked, pushing Gu Huaizhou bit by bit into the whirlpool of court power struggles. On this path of a vengeful official, he was destined to be at odds with certain people until death.

Xie Ci’s fan group grew daily, with messages hitting 99+ almost every hour. The political and romantic lines were too brilliant: two parts royal harem intrigue with Qiao Mingyue stirring the stagnant waters of the back palace and eight parts court power struggles centered on the leads and their princely backers. Every element was dialed to the max, making it a thrilling watch.

“So? Any you like?” Mo Li asked, leaning on the hotel sofa.

“I’ll look at the scripts more. Based on genre alone, they feel quite similar.” Xie Ci flipped through the bound scripts in his hand.

“Sure, take your time. These were all sent over recently.” Mo Li wasn’t in a hurry. Since Xie Ci was still filming, choosing a script required comparison and caution. Mo Li opened his phone and ordered two light takeout meals, adding a nourishing soup specifically for Xie Ci.

Lately, Xie Ci’s filming load was heavy. He often filmed all day, and many martial arts sequences required multiple rehearsals to ensure perfect synchronization with his partners. Director Ming Yang had originally planned to cut down Xie Ci’s fight scenes, but after seeing him in the rehearsal room, she added back all the high-difficulty scenes and spent days with the martial arts director modifying the weapons he used.

Originally, Wan Yuya used a standard long sword, which is safe if the actor has the technique. However, after the martial arts director saw Xie Ci use a whip, he immediately called his senior brother to join the crew specifically to design whip-based combat for Xie Ci. Mo Li, who stayed in the rehearsal room with him, felt exhausted just watching. Xie Ci’s already small face had thinned further, and his aura gained a sharp, breathtaking edge.

Xie Ci closed the scripts and said helplessly, “Let’s pass on these. They aren’t my type.”

The three or four scripts on the table were all idol dramas romances hidden under various thematic shells.

Mo Li sighed. “Most scripts sent over now are romances. Period dramas, modern dramas—they all revolve around love. These are the high-quality ones.” He was also helpless; the market was becoming singular, everyone flocking to idol dramas. Movie scripts were rare; even when he received audition invites, they were usually for minor supporting roles intended to trade on Xie Ci’s current “traffic” [popularity].

Xie Ci had debuted recently. Even with his high traffic, it was hard to land significant roles in good movies. Comparatively, being the lead in a TV drama was a solid achievement, much better than playing second fiddle in a movie. Weighing the options, Mo Li chose these better TV scripts—while the production teams weren’t quite at the level of Han River Crossing, they were leading roles, perfect for maintaining momentum.

“Oh, right. There’s a movie director who has emailed several times.” Remembering something, Mo Li pulled out another script. “This director used to do arthouse films and has won awards, but his name recognition is low.” He handed it to Xie Ci. “The Dream of Bodhi.” The title appeared in simple black text on a white background.

Xie Ci showed some interest and began reading.

Mo Li chattered on, “The script is actually okay, and it’s a lead role, but the director has very little investment. It’s not even certain if it can start filming.” This was awkward; low investment meant insufficient funds and unstable filming, often resulting in a shoddy final product. If Xie Ci starred and the box office bombed, he would take the blame.

As Mo Li spoke, Xie Ci kept flipping through the pages. After the takeout arrived, Xie Ci looked up. “Do you have the director’s contact info?”

“Are you planning to take it?” Mo Li asked in surprise. “This one is still raising funds. The director said filming won’t start until next June.”

Xie Ci looked at the number Mo Li sent and searched for the director’s account. “I haven’t decided, but I really like the script,” Xie Ci replied, applying to add the contact.

Mo Li placed the soup on the table. “Alright. If you’re interested, I’ll contact the director later.” As Xie Ci’s manager, Xie Ci’s wishes came first. Although The Dream of Bodhi wasn’t a major production, the director was sincere, repeatedly stating in emails that Xie Ci was his only choice for the lead. In any case, a movie lead carried more prestige than a TV lead. While a TV lead was a safe bet, Mo Li felt it lacked a certain “spark.”

“Han River Crossing won’t finish airing until next March. No rush, we’ll pick slowly,” Mo Li said.

“Great, keep that pose perfect!” The stills photographer clicked the shutter, capturing Xie Ci in blood-stained clothes.

Li Zhaobai stood nearby, still immersed in the previous scene, his gaze toward Xie Ci exceptionally complex. In the scene they just shot for Episode 14, Wan Yuya protected him with his life, taking a lethal arrow meant for Gu Huaizhou. The blood from his shoulder soaked his clothes and splashed onto Gu Huaizhou’s face.

Li Zhaobai was a method actor; he easily projected the character’s emotions onto himself. Now, his eyes were full of guilt and struggle. In the drama, Gu Huaizhou had an ambiguous feeling for Wan Yuya—it could be called guilt or hostility—but when that slender body blocked the arrow and blood bloomed on Wan Yuya, his first reaction was panic. Just like when he heard the news of Wan Yuya’s death in the snow, his heart turned cold.

When Xie Ci passed by him after the shoot, Li Zhaobai instinctively turned his head, unable to face him. Xie Ci was momentarily stunned but didn’t take it to heart, assuming Li Zhaobai was just still “in character” and perhaps a bit annoyed with him. He followed the makeup artist to change for the next scene.

Back at the hotel that night, Xie Ci finally found time to check his phone. The first thing he saw was a message from Ji Xiuheng.

“Xiao Ci, I’m visiting the set tomorrow.”

Below the message was a smiling black cat emoji.

Xie Ci’s heart tightened. He suddenly remembered that tomorrow he had to film a scene where he was shirtless and the female lead, Su Wu, helped apply medicine to his wounds. He had thought nothing of it before, but the thought of Ji Xiuheng watching him perform this scene made the back of his neck feel hot, and even his ears warmed up.

He took off his jacket to ease the heat, exposing his lean waist as the hem lifted.

“Yo, you’ve got abs now.” Mo Li, lying on the sofa, perked up. His hand reached out mischievously to touch the newly formed muscles.

Slap! Xie Ci immediately pulled his clothes down and ruthlessly swatted Mo Li’s hand away. “If you want them, work out with me.”

“Hmph. Until painless body-sculpting surgery exists, I’ll stick to being ‘well-rounded’.” Mo Li withdrew his hand, choosing to continue “rotting.”

As bedtime approached, Xie Ci tossed and turned. For some reason, he thought of the dream he had in the dressing room.

In the dream, he had become a fluffy cat. His first-person view was from a familiar sofa. Before he could react, his entire body was picked up and held in an irresistible embrace. Xie Ci flailed his paws to scare the person away, but when he looked up, Ji Xiuheng’s face was right there.

In his cat form, Xie Ci was frozen, watching that face get closer and closer. Even the fresh pine scent seemed to become thick and heady. Just as Ji Xiuheng’s face was about to touch his, Xie Ci woke up with a start to the bright lights of the dressing room.

Why would I have a dream like that?

Lying in bed, staring at the white ceiling, Xie Ci felt his ears burning. Thinking of the set visit tomorrow, he wrapped himself into a white “rice ball” with his blanket and rolled around for a long time before finally falling asleep.

“Cut! This take is good!” Ming Yang shouted through her megaphone.

In this scene, Xie Ci lay on a couch acting unconscious, with the female lead Su Wu caring for him. Upon the “cut,” Xie Ci instantly opened his eyes. Su Wu, who hadn’t stood up yet, met his shimmering, watery gaze; her face instantly flushed. No wonder the photographers loved close-ups of Xie Ci; if she were the one shooting, she’d want to stare at this face too. He was breathtaking, appealing to everyone.

Ming Yang walked over. “Everyone take a break. A friend of mine is visiting the set today; get ready.”

Qiao Mingyue and the others, waiting for their scenes, looked puzzled. Xie Ci sat up from the couch, his hair sliding over his shoulders. With his specially applied “pale” makeup, he looked elegantly sickly and refined. The stills photographer was frantically clicking away. The surrounding staff moved back silently. She felt the photographer was a total Xie Ci “solo fan,” chasing his every move, but she had no evidence.

Since several leads were present for today’s scenes, everyone followed Ming Yang’s gaze. A black sedan had parked in a corner of the filming site. The door opened, and the “director’s friend” who had come to visit was revealed to be Ji Xiuheng, who had rarely been seen in public lately.

To this senior who had become famous so young, Li Zhaobai and Su Wu’s reactions were like most people’s: surprised and delighted. Meanwhile, Yan Feng—who regarded Ji Xiuheng as his number one idol—instinctively looked at Xie Ci with an excited gaze, making Qiao Mingyue roll her eyes.

Having been in the circle for years, she knew Ji Xiuheng’s reputation: a gentleman with flawless manners, but to put it bluntly, an ascetic who remained detached from everything rational to the point of being cold. She hadn’t heard that his relationship with Ming Yang was that close. Given his semi-retired status, there had to be another reason for him to visit the Han River Crossing set.

Qiao Mingyue’s makeup was very vibrant today. She adjusted her wig, looked at Xie Ci still on the set, then at the composed and calm Ji Xiuheng, and a vague guess formed in her mind. Could it be…

“Long time no see, Mingyue,” Ji Xiuheng said as he walked over. Many staff members looked excited.

“Brother Ji, long time no see.” Qiao Mingyue caught on immediately and greeted him with a smile, while inwardly marveling. She didn’t expect the Film Emperor, who had been “pure of heart and few of desires” for so many years, to make such a big move.

Previously, many people tried to hand Ji Xiuheng room cards, but all were rejected clearly. There were even rumors that he was “incapable.” Qiao Mingyue “tched” in her mind; he didn’t look incapable at all he looked like a peacock about to spread its feathers across the whole sky.

“Long time no see, Xiao Ci.” Ji Xiuheng, dressed casually but still strikingly handsome, walked to Xie Ci’s side and lightly took his hand with a smile.

Feeling the burning heat from his palm, Xie Ci’s brow jumped.

Did Brother Ji… just squeeze my palm?

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