The Vicious Cannon Fodder Despised by Everyone Really Doesn't Want to Go Viral - Chapter 16

Jiang Yubai still remembered the first time he saw Lin Zhiyu. It was on the initial evaluation stage of Creating Youth.

The young master, who had braved the entertainment industry for the sake of love, was heavily made up and wearing a semi-transparent deep-V shirt. The metal chains hanging from his clothes clinked and clattered with every movement.

Unfortunately, the person he most wanted to attract sat composedly in the mentor’s seat. That person showed zero interest in the dance and vocals Lin Zhiyu had prepared for three months, failing to offer even a single word of critique. Instead, after Jiang Yubai’s group finished their performance, that man spoke up for the first time to praise Jiang Yubai’s natural vocal range and self-taught talent.

The young master had nearly ground his teeth to dust beside them. As soon as the evening dorm assignments were finished and recording ended, he began throwing tantrums and cursing loudly in his room.

Jiang Yubai had the same rating and was assigned to the same dorm area. In the dead of winter, he and a group of others were barred from the door. After watching the program staff try to persuade Lin Zhiyu to no avail, they were forced to switch dorms overnight.

Recalling that acrimonious version of Lin Zhiyu felt like a memory from a past life. This was especially true now, as Jiang Yubai watched him slumped in a fishing chair with a face full of exhaustion, draining more than half a cup of iced Americano in one go before instantly reviving like a fully charged battery. This strange, eerie feeling grew stronger.

It was as if they were two completely different people.

“Yubai, I am sorry. Shall we do another take?”

Jiang Yubai shook his head and said gently, “It is fine. It does not matter.”

Lin Zhiyu yawned and tilted his head toward the nearby monitor. Today was his first day on set, and his call time was ten in the morning. He was filming relatively formal scenes for the later “Memory Chapter” of Xie Zhuoyu.

To save money, the production had only rented the academy set for a few days. Factoring in the time needed to reset the scenery, his schedule for these few days was as packed as a medical student’s timetable. He wondered if it was because he had been memorizing lines right before bed, but his dreams had been filled with dense scripts. He had tossed and turned, waking up repeatedly, and this morning he looked as limp as a frosted eggplant.

Lin Zhiyu finished the rest of his “working man’s life-saving water” and felt his entire soul begin to sublimate. However, his assistant, Chen Chen, leaned in and whispered dissatisfiedly, “What time is it already? It is just a scene of the male lead being picked on by fodder. How can it take this long?”

On this late autumn morning, the sunlight was not intense but warm enough to induce sleepiness. Because the film city was built against a mountain, it seemed they had encroached upon a base for insects. Every so often, a whole family of mosquitoes would swarm them, making Chen Chen swat at the air in frustration.

Lin Zhiyu lifted his eyelids and looked toward the edge of the studio. His gaze landed on the familiar face next to Jiang Yubai, which looked remarkably like Gargamel.

There was nothing wrong with Jiang Yubai’s acting; his performance was at his usual standard. However, the person playing the academy disciple was a mystery of casting. A simple provocation scene had resulted in six, seven, or eight NGs.

“I even suspect he is doing it on purpose,” Chen Chen continued. “Either he is targeting Jiang Yubai, or he is targeting you, Brother Lin.”

Lin Zhiyu asked blankly, “What does it have to do with me?” Aside from the day of the screen test, he had no interaction with this person.

Chen Chen looked around and leaned in closer. “His name is Wen Lu. I heard he was originally gunning for your role. He has someone backing him, so he was determined to get the part of Xie Yunce from the start. He did not expect a spoiler like you to show up midway.”

Lin Zhiyu realized the truth. No wonder the man had been so abrasive that day. However, Lin Zhiyu could not understand why the man was so upset, considering he could not even out-act an amateur. He figured that life must be too easy for someone to harbor such petty emotions; if the man spent a few days working overtime at a design institute without pay, he would likely behave himself.

This single scene took ten NGs before it finally passed. The assistant director and several script supervisors surrounded Zhao Jinyu to calm her down, while Jiang Yubai was taken to his trailer by his assistant to rest.

Wen Lu’s assistant was busy wiping his sweat and handing him water. Wen Lu himself showed no guilt for delaying the production. He stood arrogantly by the monitor and said, “Director Zhao, how was my performance just now? I thought of some details that could be refined. When I was mocking Xie Zhuoyu, should the emotion be bigger? Maybe a more wild expression would be better?”

Zhao Jinyu did not even bother to look at him.

“Also, I want to see how that last take looked.”

Chen Chen whispered to Lin Zhiyu, “Does he think his previous glaring and pouting expression was not wild enough? It could already be described as hideous.”

“I used to hear people say Brother Lin’s acting was bad, but compared to him, you are a master.”

Lin Zhiyu thought, Young man, saying things like that in front of others will get you fired, do you understand?

Wen Lu pestered Zhao Jinyu for a long time, only to be told, “If you have this much time, you should spend it looking over your lines for the next scene.” He went to the edge of the studio to sulk.

Turning his head, Wen Lu met the gaze of Lin Zhiyu, who had just moved his chair out slightly to sunbathe. Wen Lu’s anger vanished, replaced by a cold stare as he crossed his arms.

“I had already started filming when you arrived, so I did not have time to say hello,” Wen Lu said. “Congratulations. Despite the heated arguments online, your role was not recast.”

Lin Zhiyu gave a perfunctory smile. “Yes, I wonder why that is?”

Wen Lu rolled his eyes. “If I had not been scheduled after you that day, who knows who would be playing Xie Yunce.” The corner of his mouth curled up in a disdain that seemed to come from his very bones. “Teacher Lin, let us chat. What ‘path’ did you take to get this position?”

He emphasized the word “path” heavily, making sure Lin Zhiyu understood his implication.

“I am not sure,” Lin Zhiyu replied. He looked up, his eyes as calm as a stagnant pool, though a piercing chill hid beneath the surface. “But it is probably because I have a bit less of that ‘useless mud that cannot stick to a wall’ energy than someone else.”

He smiled, his tone normal but carrying a sharp mockery. “But why did I not see you during the script reading a few days ago? Is the difficulty of this role so high that they needed to be this selective?”

Chen Chen, squatting nearby, cooperated perfectly by poking Lin Zhiyu’s leg. “Brother Lin, I heard that for the sake of efficiency, script readings sometimes do not invite actors for such peripheral roles.”

Wen Lu’s eye twitched violently, and the color drained from his face.

“No wonder,” Lin Zhiyu replied nonchalantly. “I was wondering why the lines for some supporting characters were being read by staff members.”

Wen Lu’s eyelids continued to twitch, his stiff cheekbones forming unnatural ridges. Just as he was about to explode, the script supervisor called out from a distance, “Teacher Lin, Teacher Wen, please get ready for the next scene.”

Lin Zhiyu feigned surprise. “So soon? Since we spent so long on NGs, I thought we would not film this until the afternoon. My assistant was almost about to go buy me lunch.”

Wen Lu glared at him and said through gritted teeth, “It is called striving for perfection, Teacher Lin. Being too eager for success will only produce a 3.0-rated campus drama.”

Lin Zhiyu chuckled as if he had not heard him. As he walked toward the filming area holding his robes, he said to Chen Chen in a volume Wen Lu could hear, “Did you ever encounter people like this during your group projects in college?”

“The kind who cannot even make a PowerPoint but insists on volunteering? They play dead whenever you ask for progress, then finally submit a piece of junk copied from who-knows-where right at the deadline—something so ugly it defies logic—yet they still cry about how hard they worked.”

“Damn, that is way too common, Brother Lin!”

Lin Zhiyu patted his head and said earnestly, “It is alright. Now that you are in this industry, you will encounter many more like that in the future.”

Wen Lu stamped his feet in rage behind them.

The staff fitted them with wire harnesses.

The first scene Lin Zhiyu was filming was not Xie Yunce’s first chronological scene in the script. Xie Yunce was famous at the academy; while his status as a young genius earned him many followers, it naturally invited jealousy and hatred.

Shen Xiuming, a disciple from a prestigious family who entered the academy at the same time, had been defeated by Xie Yunce with only three strikes during the entrance examination. Feeling he had lost face, he harbored a grudge and secretly planned for revenge.

However, Xie Yunce’s cultivation progressed too quickly for ordinary people to match. Seeing the gap between them widen, Shen Xiuming noticed that Xie Yunce’s younger brother, Xie Zhuoyu, had also joined the academy. Unlike Xie Yunce’s gentle nature, the young Xie Zhuoyu was arrogant and unrestrained. On his first day, he spoke back to the master and provoked his peers, earning many enemies.

Thus, when a branch disciple of the Shen family came to Shen Xiuming to complain, Shen Xiuming realized his chance for revenge had arrived. If he could not teach Xie Yunce a lesson, surely he could handle the greenhorn Xie Zhuoyu. This was the setup for the scene that had been NGet ten times that morning.

But Xie Zhuoyu was not one to be bullied. He and Shen Xiuming were on the verge of fighting. Shen Xiuming, being older, had already mastered the academy’s sword techniques. Fueled by Xie Zhuoyu’s mockery, he struck out with lethal intent. At that moment, the Snow-Brushing Sword unsheathed with a ring of cold light. Xie Yunce arrived like a gust of wind, parrying Shen Xiuming’s blade.

Because the role of Xie Yunce was cast late and the filming schedule was tight, Lin Zhiyu had only trained for one day. Jiang Yubai, seeing him staring intently at the wire machine, thought he was afraid. He leaned over and whispered, “It is alright. If you think of it as bungee jumping, it can actually be quite fun.”

Lin Zhiyu thanked him and gripped his sword. In a place no one could see, his palms were soaked with sweat and his heart was pounding. Every cell in his body was eager to try.

This is fun, he thought. Hanging from wires is much better than working.

Soon, he was hoisted into the air. At Zhao Jinyu’s command, Wen Lu immediately lunged at Jiang Yubai. Lin Zhiyu leaped from the air. The sudden feeling of weightlessness sent his adrenaline soaring; his soul was screaming with excitement. His layered robes fluttered in the wind. His movements were agile, like a startled swan or a fleeting shadow.

He performed a sword flourish and landed lightly and steadily. With one stroke, he swept Wen Lu’s sword aside, forcing him back a dozen steps.

“Zhuoyu’s sword skills are unrefined. Since Brother Shen wishes to spar, I am willing to take his place.”

The movements Lin Zhiyu used to raise the sword were not complex, but through that single, effortless strike, the essence of Xie Yunce—gentle on the surface but sharp within—seemed to come alive. When he looked down, his eyes seemed trapped in frost; the moment he looked up, all aggression was hidden.

Wen Lu gripped his arm, which was momentarily numb from the vibration, and glared at him. Yet, deep down, he felt a faint chill. Even from this distance, he felt an involuntary pressure that made it hard to breathe.

The assistant director, watching Lin Zhiyu on the monitor, whispered in praise, “This is the result of only one day of training! I used to hear people say he was just a mediocre vase, but it seems we were judging a book by its cover.”

Zhao Jinyu closed her script and gave a rare smile. “Though the movements are slightly stiff, his sense of the scene is good. With more polishing, he will be a fine piece of jade.”

Shen Xiuming was already furious. Stung by Xie Yunce’s polite yet sharp tone, his anger boiled over. He completely forgot the gap in their skills. The two fought from the veranda to the rooftop, eventually alerting the headmaster and earning them both a punishment.

The scenes on the ground were simple. Since Xianxia dramas have relatively low requirements for combat, they passed quickly. The problem arose with the subsequent scenes.

When he was hoisted up again, Lin Zhiyu’s heart had calmed down significantly. He recalled the movements taught by the martial arts instructors during training, maintaining his immersion in the character of Xie Yunce.

Until he stepped onto the eaves.

Next to him, Wen Lu’s foot suddenly slipped. His sword flew out of his hand, heading straight for Lin Zhiyu! Lin Zhiyu instinctively twisted to dodge, but his movements were disrupted by a violent pulling sensation. He lost his balance and fell backward.

In mid-air, he reflexively reached out and grabbed Wen Lu’s wrist.

“Let go!” Wen Lu’s face was deathly pale. Before he could finish his sentence, the steel wire of the harness emitted a piercing screech.

Both of them plummeted together!