I Rely on My Versatility to Reach the Top of the Entertainment Industry [Ancient Times to Modern] - Chapter 24

Exposing scandals is addictive—the more views, the more hooked you become.

The Weibo account with the ID “Just Watching You” grew increasingly bold, even digging up details about Jing Yi being expelled from high school and the reasons behind his parents’ divorce.

Fans of Fang Zexuan eagerly reposted under alternate accounts, desperate to ensure Lu Yuzhi saw these details of Jing Yi’s past.

Jing Yi hasn’t joined Galaxy Entertainment yet—they must not let his contract become a reality!

Originally, the efforts of one fanbase alone wouldn’t have caused much stir on Weibo. The problem was, coincidentally, a rising starlet on a rural variety show pointed at wheat and called it green onions!

Instantly, discussions flooded Weibo about whether celebrities’ education levels and cultural literacy matched the admiration they received.

Some even directly tagged the National Cyberspace Administration, bluntly asking, “How can someone with such poor academic performance be featured in public service ads promoting positive energy?”

The “Xie Qiyun” production team was also caught up in the controversy.

It turned out that Fang Zexuan, the actor playing Xie Qiyun, held a doctoral degree. No one expected him to get injured while performing wire stunts, but that didn’t justify replacing him with someone who was expelled from high school, did it?

In the original work, Xie Qiyun was multitalented and even passed the imperial exams, earning the title of scholar. Jing Yi’s high school expulsion simply didn’t measure up.

Moreover, it was rumored that Ji Lin from Time Media had also auditioned for Xie Qiyun but failed. With only “Seduce the Monk” to his name, how did Jing Yi manage to beat out Ji Lin?

Was the director really just doing a favor for the film emperor Lu?

Speculations ran rampant, with opinions divided.

Time Media sensed trouble brewing and ordered Ji Lin to post on Weibo, stating that he was focusing on preparing for a reality show and would be in seclusion for a month.

Ji Lin deleted his drafted post and instead published the content provided by the company.

With no opening to exploit from Ji Lin’s side, Fang Zexuan’s fans then targeted Wang Yiyue, the actress who had scenes with Jing Yi.

When Wang Yiyue saw the messages from Fang Zexuan’s fans, her agent noticed as well.

“Don’t get involved; just ignore it,” the agent said directly. “We can’t touch this mess.”

What if netizens turned their criticism toward her? There was no point in getting unfairly attacked.

Wang Yiyue responded indifferently, her eyes revealing emotions no one could decipher.

…

“From now on, you’ll use this dressing room while on set,” Lu Yuzhi instructed Jing Yi. “But I think you still need an assistant. There are many trivial matters on set, and as an actor, having an assistant will help you focus on acting.”

“I’ll assign you a trainee assistant from the company.”

Jing Yi knew that as a senior, Lu Yuzhi’s advice was surely sound.

But Jing Yi didn’t want to trouble Lu Yuzhi too much.

Assistants required salaries.

His payment for the web series “Seduce the Monk” had already been issued—120,000 yuan. After repaying part of the bank loan taken out by the original owner, only 30,000 remained for daily expenses. Jing Yi felt that money was enough to live on, but he knew others wouldn’t see it that way.

“Thank you, but there’s no need to trouble yourself,” Jing Yi declined Lu Yuzhi. “I can manage on my own.”

Lu Yuzhi frowned, recalling how Jing Yi had walked back to the “Seduce the Monk” set before, and sighed inwardly before returning to his own dressing room.

The “Xie Qiyun” production had ample funds, and the rented venue included dressing rooms with attached changing areas.

When Jing Yi emerged wearing his costume for the day’s scenes, the stylist assigned to him brightened up.

Initially, when Fang Zexuan wore white to portray Xie Qiyun, the stylist thought the actor was well-chosen, perfectly embodying the handsome swordsman the author had repeatedly described.

Now, seeing Jing Yi in white, the stylist felt he had praised Fang Zexuan’s suitability too soon.

Jing Yi’s complexion was naturally the most pleasing kind of fair and delicate, with exceptionally handsome features that carried no hint of aggression.

Dressed in ethereal white robes, he was simply too striking!

The only flaw was that stubble-like short hair.

“Come here, come here, let me fix your hairstyle,” the stylist said excitedly, introducing himself in the process. “By the way, I’m Jimmy, Lu Shen’s personal stylist.”

“Hello.” Jing Yi knew this was yet another instance of Lu Yuzhi’s consideration.

“Fortunately, I watched Seduce the Monk and prepared a new wig in advance.” Jimmy took out the wig, made some slight adjustments to the details, and placed it on Jing Yi’s head, all while asking, “When do you plan to sign with our Galaxy?”

“I’m not signing with any company,” Jing Yi replied honestly.

Jimmy was taken aback, finding the situation beyond his expectations.

Fang Zexuan had already regarded Jing Yi as a competitor, and the entire internet was boycotting Jing Yi’s entry into Galaxy—yet the person in question said he wasn’t signing?

Jimmy cautiously asked, “Could it be… you’re planning to set up your own studio and go solo?”

“I haven’t thought about that,” Jing Yi continued to respond.

Jimmy paused his work and studied Jing Yi’s expression in the mirror. Convinced that the young actor wasn’t lying, he frowned slightly. “How can one person handle everything? Actors need to focus; you at least need an assistant.”

This was the second industry insider to say so.

Jing Yi felt troubled and frowned slightly.

Jimmy thought he had overstepped and made Jing Yi uncomfortable, so he was about to change the subject when he heard Jing Yi quietly ask, “Excuse me… do you know what a reasonable salary for an assistant would be?”

“Given the cost of living in Beicheng, an assistant should earn at least 7,000 a month, otherwise they might not even be able to afford rent and insurance.”

After answering the question, Jimmy noticed the young actor’s fair, delicate face slowly turning pink.

Jimmy blinked several times, making sure he wasn’t seeing things.

Moreover, with the wig on and his hair styled, Jing Yi looked even more radiant than the large flowers on the floral shirt Jimmy was wearing that day.

What was going on?

Jing Yi was feeling ashamed for having entertained the idea of hiring Xue An.

His savings were enough for him to live on alone, but hiring Xue An would be insufficient.

Better to leave things as they were for now.

Jing Yi thought to himself, quietly waiting for the heat in his face to subside.

The styling was quickly completed in the silence between them.

In the mirror, the young swordsman had peach-blossom eyes, a high nose bridge, and with two strands of long hair framing his temples, his facial features carried an added touch of handsomeness.

Jing Yi closed his eyes and then opened them again, the warmth in his gaze deepening even more.

The dashing swordsman Xie Qiyun, aside from his skills, was most captivating to women because of these enchanting, beautiful peach-blossom eyes.

“Absolutely perfect, this feeling is truly perfect,” Jimmy praised endlessly. “I’m almost captivated by you; you are the very embodiment of the dashing swordsman Xie Qiyun.”

“Thank you.”

Jing Yi politely responded to Jimmy, then stood up and took a sip of water from the water bottle in his backpack.

After finishing the styling, it was time to head to the set and wait for filming to begin.

Jing Yi left his belongings in the dressing room and walked to the main filming area.

Clad in pristine white robes, his appearance was breathtakingly beautiful, exuding an unrestrained and graceful charm.

The crew members were stunned, and even Wang Yiyue was momentarily dazed.

But her gaze quickly turned resolute as she took the initiative to approach Jing Yi and greet him: “Hello, Jing Yi, I’m Wang Yiyue, the actress playing the female lead Ling Xuan. I’m very happy to work with you.”

“Hello,” Jing Yi responded with a smile. “I’m also very happy to work with you.”

The atmosphere between the two leads was pleasant, and one crew member whispered, “Oh no, why do I feel that with his hair styled like this, Jing Yi looks even more beautiful than Sister Wang, the Ice and Snow Fairy?”

Another quickly stopped him: “What nonsense are you thinking? Get back to work.”

They hurriedly walked past the two.

Once the leads were ready, they could start filming the scenes scheduled for the day.

Gu Guochang, seeing how well Jing Yi looked in his costume, grew even more excited about his portrayal of Xie Qiyun.

Unexpectedly, however, problems arose as soon as filming began.

In the shots, Xie Qiyun’s expressions, movements, and gaze were all perfect, but he was never fully visible in the frame. Either he was blocked by objects or positioned to the side of Wang Yiyue, obscured by her.

During filming, actors’ positioning is highly deliberate. Usually, when the audience sees a shot focused on a particular actor, it’s either because the camera directly zooms in on them or because the actor finds the right angle themselves.

Jing Yi was particularly weak in this aspect of positioning.

This weakness wasn’t as noticeable in TV dramas, but in a TV movie with a runtime of nearly two hours, it significantly impacted the final result.

“Cut, Jing Yi, this take is no good. Do it again.”

“Cut, still not good enough.”

“Cut.”

After three consecutive takes, Gu Guochang was feeling exhausted.

“Sorry,” Jing Yi apologized sincerely.

Gu Guochang’s expression was grim: “What’s the use of apologizing? Do you think you’re filming a TV drama? This is a TV movie. Even if it’s only broadcast on the national movie channel, it has to meet the quality standards of a film.”

“How can you let objects in the scene block you? Are you the lead, or are the objects the lead? Huh? Is it so hard to find the right camera angle and adjust your positioning? Such a basic thing, and I have to point it out?”

“Honestly, if you’re not embarrassed, I am!”

Off set, Gu Guochang was cheerful and easygoing, like a kindly old man, but once he sat in the director’s chair, he became a full-blown cannon, ready to criticize anyone.

Lu Yuzhi had worked with Gu Guochang a couple of years earlier and had also been scolded. There were even young actors who were reduced to tears on set, and the more mistakes they made, the worse their performance became, eventually leading to their removal from the production.

Thinking of this, the crew members, shrinking their necks, watched Jing Yi at the center of the storm with amused curiosity.

The crew members also browsed Weibo and followed gossip.

Initially, they thought Jing Yi, being a newcomer highly recommended by the renowned actor Lu Yuzhi and with such a striking appearance, must be a strong performer. Yet, right from the start, he had three consecutive NGs and was being harshly criticized by the director.

This seemed to confirm Jing Yi’s lack of professionalism.

“I’m sorry,” said Jing Yi, at the center of the incident, his ears turning red. “I’ve caused you trouble.”

“Forget it,” Gu Guochang said, recalling Jing Yi’s performance during the audition and glancing at Wang Yiyue. “Come over here and watch with me first. I’ll film the scenes with Hua Xiangrong and Ling Xuan. Pay close attention to Lu Yuzhi and learn how to position yourself properly.”

“Okay,” Jing Yi obediently walked over to Gu Guochang, his earlobes flushed.

Lu Yuzhi, who had arrived early, flashed a sharp glint in his amber eyes.

While the staff on set might not have noticed, having been in the entertainment industry for so long, he knew from the first time Jing Yi had to retake the scene due to positioning that Wang Yiyue was doing it on purpose.

The camera frame was only so wide, and it was shooting in a straight line.

When acting alongside amiable colleagues, performers would stick to their own designated space, ensuring they stayed properly within the shot. But those with ill intentions would deliberately linger at slightly skewed angles.

It wouldn’t affect their own performance, and the director couldn’t call them out on it. Yet it would disrupt their scene partner, making it seem like the other person was at fault for the retakes.

Why would Wang Yiyue hold a grudge against Jing Yi when this was their first time working together?

And Jing Yi, with his mild and accommodating nature, adjusted his positioning several times but refrained from moving further for fear of crossing into Wang Yiyue’s space.

That stubborn little one was still too kind-hearted!