I Rely on My Versatility to Reach the Top of the Entertainment Industry [Ancient Times to Modern] - Chapter 54

The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dimly lit.

On the large projection screen on the wall, a gunfight movie was playing.

Lu Yuzhi, with his buzz cut and military uniform, hid behind cover, occasionally firing at the enemy. Amidst the smoke and gunfire, his expression was resolute, his handsome face smeared with dust and blood.

Jing Yi watched intently, occasionally frowning at the bleeding wounds on Lu Yuzhi’s body.

Lu Yuzhi felt helpless.

To make movie-watching more relaxing, the floor was covered with soft mats and pillows. One could lean back and watch in the most comfortable position. But his little one insisted on sitting with perfect posture, back straight, as if attending a primary school class.

This personal habit was deeply ingrained in Jing Yi, impossible to change.

Lu Yuzhi thought to himself, quietly wrapping an arm around Jing Yi’s waist.

When his earlobe was suddenly enveloped by warm lips, Jing Yi trembled slightly and turned to look at the man beside him.

The man’s eyes were slightly lowered, his amber gaze faintly intense.

“Yuzhi, I want to watch the movie,” Jing Yi said earnestly, dodging slightly. “Don’t disturb me.”

“I’m not disturbing you,” Lu Yuzhi chuckled. “You watch yours, I’ll do my thing.”

Lu Yuzhi’s hand tightened slightly.

The sensation, just enough to be felt, transmitted through Jing Yi’s clothes to his senses.

Jing Yi had to grab Lu Yuzhi’s hand, frowning slightly, his voice tinged with grievance. “You’re disturbing me like this.”

Lu Yuzhi kissed the slightly pouted red lips of his little one. “Then lean against me while watching, don’t sit so stiffly. Watching a movie should be relaxing—how else can you fully immerse yourself in the emotions of the film?”

“Is that so?” Jing Yi glanced at the screen, then looked down to see Lu Yuzhi’s other hand reaching over. He agreed, “Alright, I’ll lean on you, but you mustn’t… you mustn’t…”

Stammering, Jing Yi couldn’t bring himself to describe Lu Yuzhi’s earlier actions, his face warming slightly.

Lu Yuzhi stared at the blushing, flustered young man, then raised both hands and sat back properly, putting on a serious face. “I absolutely won’t kiss you or touch you again.”

Hearing those two embarrassing words, Jing Yi shot Lu Yuzhi a glare.

Lu Yuzhi laughed.

He adored the little expressions on Jing Yi’s face—far more endearing than the aloof, unapproachable demeanor he had when they first met.

After coaxing him softly and making repeated promises, Lu Yuzhi half-embraced the young man in his arms. “I’ll just hold you. You can watch now.”

Jing Yi nodded.

Leaning against Lu Yuzhi felt entirely different from his previous posture, and it took him a while to adjust.

Lu Yuzhi then rewound the movie a bit so Jing Yi could catch up with the plot.

In the afternoon, the movie switched to a Republican-era romance film starring Lu Yuzhi.

He played the male lead, while the female lead had an innocent appearance, with two braids and a charming smile. Initially free from life’s pressures, the two were deeply in love and often engaged in intimate moments.

This was also the film with the most emotional interactions in Lu Yuzhi’s entire filmography.

The director intended to use the couple’s pure early romance to contrast the desolation after their country was invaded by foreign forces.

The young couple, new to love and eager to explore, shared a night of passion before the male lead enlisted in the army.

Watching this scene, Jing Yi’s brow furrowed slightly.

The director used subtle cinematography, but it was enough to stir the imagination.

Lu Yuzhi had a scene where he took off his shirt himself, though of course he didn’t fully remove it—he only unbuttoned most of the buttons. At that time, Lu Yuzhi’s skin was still very fair, and his face still carried a youthful innocence.

“It was camera angles,” Lu Yuzhi quickly explained, feeling the person in his arms tense up slightly. “I didn’t actually touch her. It was all edited together in post-production.”

“Oh,” Jing Yi responded softly but said nothing more.

As the movie progressed, their city fell into chaos. The male lead, who had joined the army, became a young marshal and led his troops back from another front to liberate his hometown.

He reunited with his lover, who now had a child by her side.

The chubby-cheeked little one, though having endured much hardship, was utterly adorable.

The family of three was finally together again and even took wedding photos.

But soon the scene shifted—an elderly Lu Yuzhi, with graying hair and aged makeup, lay in a rocking chair. His cloudy eyes closed with nostalgia as a photo of a young woman slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.

A young man in military uniform whispered beside him, tears streaming down his face as he gently placed the photo back into Lu Yuzhi’s hand.

Even as a marshal, the male lead in the film couldn’t save the woman he loved… Those happy scenes were merely the marshal’s final illusions before death.

As the movie ended, Jing Yi glanced sideways at Lu Yuzhi beside him.

Lu Yuzhi was taken aback.

Jing Yi’s clear black eyes were unmistakably misty.

Flustered, Lu Yuzhi murmured reassuringly, “The movie isn’t real.”

Jing Yi remained silent, lowering his gaze with a soft sigh.

Growing more anxious, Lu Yuzhi insisted, “I’m not close with that actress either, really.”

“You can check my phone, ask anyone around us, or search online—after the movie promotions ended, I never saw her again.”

Jing Yi shook his head.

Unsure what else to clarify, Lu Yuzhi pressed Jing Yi’s hand against his own chest. “There’s only you in here.”

Seeing how nervous Lu Yuzhi had become, Jing Yi offered a comforting smile.

“I know the movie isn’t real,” he said quietly. “But… the fundamental reason the county magistrate’s parents opposed their relationship was that an actor couldn’t bear children with their son.”

Watching the film, Jing Yi didn’t know why these thoughts came to him.

A flicker of surprise crossed Lu Yuzhi’s eyes.

“We’re not them,” he said, kissing Jing Yi’s forehead. “And my parents aren’t county magistrates.”

“But…” Jing Yi sighed again. “If one day you want a child of your own bloodline, that would be okay.”

Jing Yi smiled. “I want you to be happy.”

This was his most sincere wish.

Seeing the young man forcing a smile, Lu Yuzhi regretted not deleting this movie in advance.

“Having you is enough for me,” Lu Yuzhi repeated. “Or are you using this as an excuse to leave me and go back to your Buddha?”

He lowered his eyes, putting on an utterly dejected expression.

Jing Yi looked at the crestfallen man before him, puzzled how the topic had circled back to Buddha again. He opened his mouth to continue the discussion but sensed it would only lead back to the same diversion. He decided to drop it.

Patting Lu Yuzhi’s back, he said, “No, I’ve already decided to request leave from the temple to atone.”

“Leave?” Lu Yuzhi asked, confused.

Jing Yi explained, “I originally planned to complete what needed to be done before becoming a monk, but now… I have you.”

Lu Yuzhi smiled contentedly. “It seems I’ve won.”

Jing Yi asked, “What do you mean by winning?”

Lu Yuzhi didn’t elaborate and changed the subject. “Are you hungry? I’ll go cook. You can keep watching; I’ll call you when the food is ready.”

“Mm.”

…

After staying home for two days, on the third day, Jing Yi followed the arrangements of the Animal Protection Association and took a helicopter to the nature reserve for filming.

Lu Yuzhi accompanied him.

Although there were accommodations in the nature reserve, the association president suggested camping to make it more interesting.

At night, the starry sky was brilliant and exceptionally beautiful.

Jing Yi and Lu Yuzhi sat side by side as Lu Yuzhi pointed out the names of the stars.

The atmosphere between them was warm, while Louis sighed nearby, looking utterly melancholic.

“Louis, why aren’t you pursuing your true love anymore?” the assistant asked, puzzled.

Based on Louis’s previous actions, it seemed he had intended to pursue the young celebrity named Jing Yi. But now, Louis had given up, as if deeply discouraged.

“My true love already has someone else in their heart. I have no choice but to give up,” Louis said, gazing at Jing Yi’s back. “I wonder if I’ll ever feel this way again in the future.”

…

While filming the promotional video, the Animal Association staff truly experienced what it meant to possess extraordinary combat skills and an exceptional affinity with animals.

The fierce and combative solitary male lion, Brother Blade, who had fought with Jing Yi without gaining the upper hand, now behaved as docilely as a cat around him. The elephant, whose long tusks had been cut off by humans, spent just one afternoon with Jing Yi before enthusiastically inviting him for a walk.

As for the rare birds, after observing them for a day, Jing Yi could communicate with them seamlessly using bird calls.

“This celebrity is remarkable. If he were to become a zoologist like me, he could make significant contributions,” remarked a zoologist from the nearby nature reserve. “I’ve noticed that the animals treat him as one of their own when they interact with him.”

The association president laughed. “It must be a natural talent. Mr. Jing is also an excellent actor. I heard his drama ‘Northern Night City’ is about to air, and my daughter has been pestering me to watch it. Not to mention, since she became a fan of Mr. Jing, her academic performance has improved quite a bit. Hahaha, if he didn’t have such a positive influence, you wouldn’t have considered him for the public service announcement, right?”

“Exactly. I heard Mr. Jing took the adult college entrance exam, and the results should be out in a few days.”

Everyone chatted about Jing Yi’s affairs until the filming wrapped up. Once they reached an area with internet access, they unanimously asked Jing Yi if he had checked his scores.

Jing Yi logged into the website on his phone.

Seeing the results, he smiled.

Coincidentally, fans on Weibo were also asking, so Jing Yi took a screenshot and replied.

When fans saw Jing Yi’s response and opened the image to check the scores, they went wild with praise: “My Yi Zai is amazing! A perfect score! A straight-A student, number one!” “What has our top student Yi Zai been up to lately?” “It’s been a while since we’ve seen updates on Weibo.”

Jing Yi pulled up photos from his phone and looked at Lu Yuzhi. “Can I post these?”

Lu Yuzhi nodded. “Go ahead. You can also promote your public service announcement.”

Jing Yi agreed and attached some photos taken by the crew to his Weibo post.

“Rare to see him active online, loving this! Is this an animal photoshoot?”

“Whoa, isn’t this Brother Dao, the lone lion king rescued by the animal protection association before? Master Jing is actually sleeping leaning against Brother Dao? Damn, Brother Dao is even grooming him, 6666666!”

“This one with the bird is absolutely stunning, blue skies and white clouds with peerless beauty!”

“What on earth has our little Yi been secretly shooting?”

“To the one upstairs, the animal protection association previously appointed little Yi as their charity ambassador!”

Amid the discussions, everyone casually reposted the Weibo simultaneously released by the animal protection association. The hashtag #JingYiCharityAmbassador quickly shot to the top of the hot search list, with fans spontaneously sharing it.

Someone casually remarked that Jing Yi had never done any charity work before, but the next second, the animal protection foundation released a list of recent donations received.

Jing Yi’s name was prominently listed at the top, with a donation of 20 million.

When some questioned the amount, fans inquired around, and eventually, the production team of “Yang Xin Speaks” and the director of “Northern Night City” both posted on Weibo, disclosing Jing Yi’s earnings.

“Wow, did little Yi donate all his earnings?”

“To the one who said our little Yi isn’t fit to be a charity ambassador, come and take your beating!”

While Weibo was buzzing with excitement, Jing Yi was tidying up with Lu Yuzhi.

After finishing, Lu Yuzhi said he had company matters to attend to: “I need to handle something. If you’re bored, you can start a livestream and chat with your fans.”

“Okay,” Jing Yi agreed.

Lu Yuzhi lowered his head: “Aren’t you going to give me a goodbye kiss?”

Jing Yi looked at the man full of anticipation before him, slightly raised his head, and kissed Lu Yuzhi’s lips.

“Come back early.”

“Mm, how about we go to the zoo tomorrow to see Lu Yi?”

“Sure.”

They said their goodbyes at the door, and Jing Yi went to the study to start a livestream while painting.

Fans chatted about all sorts of things, and one of them asked, “The zoo announced it’s closed today and tomorrow. How strange. Does anyone know why?”

“I saw that too! I wanted to see King Kong and Lu Yi!”

“I live near the zoo. My kid has been into drone photography lately and captured some interesting footage. But I think it should be kept secret. What do you all think?”

Everyone was intrigued by this person’s comment and privately messaged them for details.

After seeing it, the fans returned to the livestream.

“I’m voluntarily keeping it a secret, haha!”

“Me too, me too!”

Jing Yi frowned in confusion at the fans’ comments and asked, “What’s going on with the zoo?”

“Nothing much.”

“The zoo is planning to find a mate for King Kong lately. Spring has arrived, and I want to fall in love.”

Jing Yi: “But it’s autumn now?”