I Rely on My Versatility to Reach the Top of the Entertainment Industry [Ancient Times to Modern] - Chapter 27

It was this momentary distraction that caused Lu Yuzhi to miss his next action.

Although the main assassin had been knocked to the ground, other assassins were still advancing to attack.

Seeing that Lu Yuzhi hadn’t continued the sequence, Jing Yi, swaying with drunken abandon, brought his index and middle fingers together and caught an incoming sword between them.

With a slight flick of his slender fingers, the prop sword shattered into pieces.

Originally, this scene belonged to Hua Xiangrong’s storyline, but it didn’t feel out of place when Xie Qiyun performed it instead.

The background actor playing the cannon-fodder assassin, though momentarily stunned, was quick-witted enough to drop the sword and switch to striking Jing Yi with his palm.

Behind them, Lu Yuzhi, not hearing Gu Guochang call “cut,” let out a soft hum, wrapped one arm around Jing Yi in front of him, and struck out with his other palm.

The assassin fell backward, tumbling smoothly over the railing.

By then, Lu Yuzhi, with his disheveled hair, had already spun Jing Yi around once, lowering his gaze to stare at the person in his arms.

Their eyes met, and Jing Yi’s expression was full of confusion.

No one had heard the director call “cut,” so the nearby cameraman had no choice but to grit his teeth and capture their intense eye contact in a high-definition close-up.

Since Lu Yuzhi was slightly taller than Jing Yi, the image on the monitor carried a certain suggestive undertone.

Gu Guochang, watching the scene, felt that this conveyed Hua Xiangrong’s feelings for Xie Qiyun more vividly than the original script’s distant gaze. It also better captured Xie Qiyun’s shock upon realizing that the intriguing beauty he found appealing was actually a man. Delighted, he called “cut.”

With the director’s signal, the camera stopped rolling.

Jing Yi quickly straightened up, his clear, crystal-like eyes filled with confusion as he looked at Lu Yuzhi.

Lu Yuzhi felt increasingly uncomfortable under that gaze, secretly hiding the arm that had just fulfilled his wish behind his back. He averted his eyes downward, wondering inwardly: Had his hidden intentions been discovered?

He couldn’t shake the feeling that those pure eyes were accusing him of taking advantage of the situation.

“Was my acting not good enough?”

Just as Lu Yuzhi was growing anxious, he heard Jing Yi ask this and turned back. “Hmm?”

Jing Yi continued, “When Mr. Lu didn’t follow up with the action earlier, was it because my portrayal of drunkenness was off?”

Lu Yuzhi breathed an inward sigh of relief—it was a false alarm!

“I’ve never drunk alcohol before,” Jing Yi mistakenly assumed his own guess was correct and lowered his head apologetically. “I’ve only seen others drink, so I thought that was the general state. That’s why I deliberately made my face a bit redder.”

“Director Gu didn’t specify the need for blushing. Did I overdo it?”

Lu Yuzhi seized the opportunity to play along, putting on a stern and serious expression as he replied, “It was a little too red. Your skin is naturally fair to begin with.”

“Alright, I’ll be more careful next time.” Jing Yi looked up and smiled at Lu Yuzhi.

That innocent smile only made Lu Yuzhi feel even more guilty about his own improper thoughts.

And yet… he didn’t regret it.

Jing Yi with flushed cheeks was truly adorable.

…

“Alright, alright, that’s a wrap for today.”

After filming night scenes until 8 p.m., Gu Guochang announced the end of the day’s shoot.

As the crew began packing up, Gu Guochang approached Jing Yi. “Xie Qiyun, your sworn brother Yan Zihuan will be staying at the hotel tonight. To help you two get into the right dynamic as close friends, I’ve assigned him the room next to yours. You can meet up later and run through some scenes to get a feel for it.”

“Understood,” Jing Yi replied to Gu Guochang.

“Aren’t you going to ask who Yan Zihuan is?” Gu Guochang’s expression was somewhat peculiar, as if he both wanted and didn’t want to be asked.

Jing Yi tentatively asked, “Then… who is Yan Zihuan?”

“Sheng Xiaguang.” Gu Guochang patted Jing Yi’s shoulder. “Consider this an introduction. Don’t feel pressured, Xiao Yi.”

Jing Yi blinked.

Sheng Xiaguang – the original Jing Yi, under the company’s instruction, had publicly confessed to this young singer during a performance event, only to be rejected on the spot and called disgusting.

Under such circumstances, could they smoothly become good friends?

Beside them, Lu Yuzhi frowned.

Sheng Xiaguang was the new generation in the music industry, having been voted the most popular singer for several consecutive years.

Since the film and music circles had little connection, Lu Yuzhi hadn’t had close contact with Sheng Xiaguang before, but he had once seen the singer angrily scolding staff backstage from a distance, apparently because they had played the wrong accompaniment track or something similar.

If Sheng Xiaguang still held hostility toward Jing Yi…

Lu Yuzhi decided he would stay with Jing Yi that evening.

After both removed their makeup and did simple skincare, they returned to the hotel room booked by the film crew.

Jing Yi was still contemplating how to interact with Sheng Xiaguang when he noticed someone standing outside his door.

Upon closer look, it was indeed Sheng Xiaguang.

The young singer didn’t look pleased, his brows slightly furrowed, his eyes filled with intense scrutiny: “Xie Qiyun?”

Jing Yi nodded, smiling calmly: “Xie Qiyun.”

Sheng Xiaguang glanced at Lu Yuzhi standing beside Jing Yi and greeted him with polite distance: “Mr. Lu.”

Lu Yuzhi nodded in response without speaking.

Sheng Xiaguang continued studying Jing Yi as if trying to find flowers blooming on his face. After a long moment, he tilted his chin toward the door: “Shall we talk inside?”

Jing Yi nodded and took out his room card to open the door.

The hotel room booked by the crew was a standard single room. When the lights turned on, the room became bright, but there was only one chair available.

Jing Yi glanced awkwardly at the chair, unsure which of the two behind him should be offered the seat.

Sheng Xiaguang hadn’t expected Lu Yuzhi to follow them inside. Frowning slightly, he said directly: “The director said we should get familiar with each other before filming begins.”

“Yes, I know.” After responding to Sheng Xiaguang, Jing Yi smiled at Lu Yuzhi. “Then Mr. Lu, would you like to rest early today?”

Lu Yuzhi hadn’t expected Jing Yi to dismiss him.

His handsome brows furrowed as he said: “I’m not tired yet.”

After some thought, Jing Yi could only suggest: “Then… shall both of you bring chairs from your rooms?”

Sheng Xiaguang had no objection and immediately went to get a chair.

Lu Yuzhi gave Jing Yi a deep look before also going to fetch a chair.

With two additional chairs and people, the already small room felt even more cramped.

Sitting on his chair with the script, Sheng Xiaguang asked directly: “Is Mr. Lu accompanying Jing Yi, or are you also acting in this production?”

The crew hadn’t promoted this aspect yet. Initially, they had only promoted Fang Zexuan and Wang Yiyue. Now they only mentioned that Fang Zexuan had been hospitalized due to an accident, with Jing Yi replacing him as the male lead.

“Hua Xiangrong.” Lu Yuzhi replied to Sheng Xiaguang. “While you two rehearse, I’ll also get into character. You don’t mind, do you?”

“With Mr. Lu’s renowned reputation, how could I possibly mind?” Sheng Xiaguang’s smile looked peculiar, as if he had thought of something. “I’m new to acting. If I have any issues during rehearsal, I hope Mr. Lu can point them out directly.”

“Certainly.” Lu Yuzhi responded with polite formality. “But I don’t recommend rehearsing for too long. It’s already 9 PM.”

After saying this, Lu Yuzhi moved his chair against the wall, minimizing his presence.

Jing Yi had already memorized the script, so he waited for Sheng Xiaguang to begin first.

Feeling confident about the opening section, Sheng Xiaguang lifted his chin in a commanding manner and said, “Let’s start from the first scene—Xie Qiyun plays the flute while Yan Zihuan accompanies.”

Jing Yi nodded and turned to walk toward the cabinet in the room.

Sheng Xiaguang found this baffling, his gaze tinged with suspicion, only to see Jing Yi return with a flute and an ocarina.

“I’ve disinfected them,” Jing Yi said, handing the ocarina to Sheng Xiaguang. “If you’re still concerned, you can disinfect it again in the bathroom.”

Sheng Xiaguang actually went ahead and disinfected it, lost in thought as he washed it.

Originally, he had enrolled in acting, but fate had other plans—he debuted as a singer instead.

Still, Sheng Xiaguang had never given up on honing his acting skills. Even while active as a singer all these years, he had been negotiating with his company about crossing over into acting.

When he heard that the novel The Dashing Swordsman Xie Qiyun was being adapted into a TV movie, Sheng Xiaguang fought tooth and nail to land his favorite role. However, due to recording a new album, he couldn’t join the production immediately.

Now that the album was finished, fate played another trick—the role of Xie Qiyun went to Jing Yi, someone he had previously despised.

Even knowing that Jing Yi’s past behavior had been forced by his company, Sheng Xiaguang held no goodwill toward him.

In this world, only those without real talent get pushed around!

With this thought, Sheng Xiaguang decided the ocarina was sufficiently disinfected. He shook off the water vigorously and headed out the door.

He wanted to test whether Jing Yi truly had more skill now than before.

Jing Yi had already moved the chairs aside.

Standing in the center with the flute, he lowered his gaze and began playing as soon as he heard Sheng Xiaguang reach the doorway.

The opening notes left Sheng Xiaguang stunned.

High Mountains and Flowing Water? Jing Yi was playing High Mountains and Flowing Water on the bamboo flute?

In the original novel, Xie Qiyun played this very piece on his flute in the bamboo grove!

Sheng Xiaguang ran his fingers over the ocarina and joined in at the perfect moment.

The two instruments harmonized briefly before the flute took over solo, then the ocarina had its turn.

By the time the music ended, Sheng Xiaguang had moved from the bathroom door to Jing Yi’s side, their eyes meeting.

Jing Yi’s eyes crinkled with a smile, admiration shining in his gaze. Sheng Xiaguang’s dark eyes also reflected appreciation, though his smile was faint.

Xie Qiyun was lively and unrestrained, while Yan Zihuan was steady and composed. Yet in that first shared glance during their duet, they instantly recognized a kindred spirit—like finding one’s musical soulmate in High Mountains and Flowing Water.

As the last note faded, Jing Yi twirled the flute in his hand, lips curving in delight as he delivered his line: “The scenery in this bamboo grove is exceptional.”

Sheng Xiaguang carefully pocketed the ocarina and muttered, “It is.”

Jing Yi added, “Care for a drink?”

Sheng Xiaguang looked up and answered decisively, “Yes!”

In the original story, Xie Qiyun would sling an arm around Yan Zihuan’s shoulders at this point.

Following the script, Jing Yi tucked the flute into his pocket temporarily, sauntered over to Sheng Xiaguang, and draped an arm over his shoulders, adopting a carefree, boneless posture.

Sheng Xiaguang stiffened as Jing Yi leaned into him. Glancing sideways at the face he had once loathed, he felt an inexplicable twinge of something new.

In modern society, few are willing to learn these ancient musical instruments. Sheng Xiaguang himself came from a privileged background—his parents, grandparents, and elders were all inheritors of ancient musical traditions—so he had extensive exposure to them.

That Jing Yi could play the flute so skillfully was something Sheng Xiaguang had never anticipated.

Moreover, when Jing Yi had spoken those words to him in front of everyone earlier, the cheap perfume on him was overpowering.

Had Jing Yi changed his perfume now?

It seemed to be the kind he liked—a purely natural, milky sandalwood scent…

“Cut, NG.”

Sheng Xiaguang’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden voice.

Jing Yi also released Sheng Xiaguang’s shoulder and turned to look at their only audience member, Lu Yuzhi.

A faint smile played on Lu Yuzhi’s lips as his amber eyes fixed intently on Sheng Xiaguang.

“Sheng Xiaguang, your state is off.” What was going through that little one’s mind? Both his gaze and expression were utterly entranced.

Criticized, Sheng Xiaguang let out a frivolous “tsk” and glanced sideways at Jing Yi. “What cheap perfume are you using again? It reeks.”

Jing Yi shook his head. “I’m not wearing any perfume.”

After saying this, he sniffed himself but didn’t notice anything unusual, so he turned to Lu Yuzhi for help. “Mr. Lu, do I smell bad?”

Seeing Jing Yi’s downcast expression, as if he’d been dealt a blow, Lu Yuzhi glanced at Sheng Xiaguang. “No, but it’s 9:30—time for you to rest.”

“Rest at 9:30? That’s so early.” Sheng Xiaguang looked at Jing Yi. “Let’s go again.”

“No.” The amiable smile on Lu Yuzhi’s lips faded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he exuded undeniable authority. “9:30 is Jing Yi’s rest time.”

“Huh?” Sheng Xiaguang’s expression grew increasingly displeased. “Mr. Lu, since when do you have such broad authority? May I ask what you are to Jing Yi?”

“I am his friend and senior,” Lu Yuzhi replied.

Their eyes met, both radiating a sharp intensity as if trying to overpower the other.

Jing Yi was utterly baffled, unsure how the atmosphere in the room had turned so confrontational, as if a fight were about to break out.

He glanced from one to the other and spoke gently, “I really do need to rest. Why don’t both of you head back as well?”

Sheng Xiaguang shot an angry glare at Jing Yi, seeming on the verge of saying something but holding back. Instead, he went to move a chair. As he reached the door, he abruptly muttered a stiff, “Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Sheng,” Jing Yi replied, then turned to Lu Yuzhi with a smile. “Good night, Mr. Lu.”

By then, Lu Yuzhi had already approached Jing Yi.

He patted Jing Yi’s head, his tone gentle and smiling. “You really don’t have the smell he mentioned. Don’t take his words to heart, alright?”

Jing Yi smiled. “Okay.”

Satisfied, Lu Yuzhi picked up the chair. “Good night, Jing Yi.”

“Good night,” Jing Yi said to him once more.

Only after the door closed did Jing Yi go to move the chair leaning against the wall.

As he moved it, he suddenly remembered—this chair didn’t belong to him, and hadn’t Sheng Xiaguang taken his xun?

He’d have to deal with it tomorrow.

For now, Jing Yi placed the chair by the door.