Under Xu Pingqiu's direction, the set instantly bustled with activity.
The lighting crew ran around carrying massive lights, the prop team frantically scattered dry leaves all over the ground, and the camera operator hoisted the Steadicam onto his shoulder.
The crew members who had been slacking off and dozing just moments ago were completely dumbfounded. They instinctively crowded toward the edge of the set, their eyes glued to Jiang Yue.
Laymen watch for the thrill, while professionals look for the skill.
But at this moment, even those who knew nothing about the craft could feel the overwhelming aura radiating from Jiang Yue.
In an inconspicuous corner at the edge of the set, a middle-aged man dressed in a gray linen Tang suit stood quietly with his hands behind his back.
Initially, his gaze was incredibly indifferent, watching with a detached, spectating attitude.
But when Jiang Yue executed a stunning sequence of sword techniques as fluidly as flowing water, the way the man looked at him completely changed.
It was as if he had discovered something of unexpected quality.
“Action!”
The clapperboard snapped down.
Jiang Yue's gaze shifted instantly.
He stumbled a few steps, reeking of alcohol, his eyes hazy with drunkenness.
Yet, the moment he raised the longsword and the blade reflected a cold gleam, his entire aura underwent a complete transformation.
The wind machines blew up the withered, yellow leaves scattered across the courtyard.
The dry leaves swirled and spiraled around him.
His purple robes whipped loudly in the fierce wind as the sword's gleam spread along with the gust.
At times, he was as wild and unbridled as a madman; at others, as vicious and deadly as a venomous serpent.
With one thrust of his sword, leaves were shredded to pieces.
With one sweep, the fallen leaves scattered wildly.
It was a breathtaking display of sheer aesthetic beauty that made everyone forget to breathe.
It was the release of a full decade of endurance, humiliation, and the monstrous killing intent hidden beneath the facade of a playboy, unleashed entirely in a single slash!
Ten years of drinking ice could not cool his hot blood.
“Cut!!!”
Xu Pingqiu called out to stop.
Everyone on the set snapped out of it simultaneously, several of them shivering with goosebumps.
Jiang Yue steadily sheathed his sword and stood upright.
His purple robes still fluttered in the wind, his chest rising and falling slightly.
Two seconds later, the killing intent in his eyes faded, and clarity returned.
He subtly turned his head, his gaze sweeping toward the corner where the middle-aged man had been standing.
Unbeknownst to him, the man in the Tang suit had already moved.
Xu Pingqiu had clearly noticed that direction as well. He turned his head, and his eyes met the man's in mid-air.
Xu Pingqiu was startled for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly, but he quickly relaxed.
He didn't make a scene, merely nodding from a distance.
Jiang Yue took a bottle of mineral water handed to him by a production assistant. As he unscrewed the cap, he glanced back toward the corner.
The man in the Tang suit was no longer looking at him.
This person's behavior was very strange.
He kept wandering around the set, slowly inspecting the scenery.
When he walked past a pillar, he would tap the wood.
When he reached a window, he would hold his hand up to examine the texture of the window paper against the light.
The surrounding crew members were a bustling mess, with cameras, lights, and props constantly in motion.
Yet, this man seemed completely detached from it all, as if separated by an invisible barrier.
By the time Jiang Yue prepared to return to the center of the set, the man had already slipped away unnoticed.
In the subsequent close-ups and action inserts, Jiang Yue continued to deliver a flawless, consistent performance.
Sitting behind the monitor, Xu Pingqiu's smile grew wider and wider the more he watched.
As the final shot wrapped up, he decisively pressed the button on his walkie-talkie.
“Cut!”
“We got it!”
With that command, the set came alive once again.
Production assistants rushed over to hand him water and towels, the wind machines powered down, and the dry leaves in the air drifted gently back to the ground.
Jiang Yue sheathed his sword, the cold loneliness of Chu Yan fading from his eyes as he reverted to his usual self.
In the next second, the light blue screen popped up in his mind.
【Shock of the crew detected. Prestige points +100】
【Self-doubt of the action choreographer detected. Prestige points +15】
【High recognition from Xu Pingqiu detected. Prestige points +80】
【Reversal of opinion from the production representative detected. Prestige points +50】
Jiang Yue scanned the panel.
When his gaze locked onto the last line, he raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly.
A production representative?
It seems that man in the Tang suit earlier really wasn't just dropping by to watch the show.
Just then, Brother Hong, the action choreographer, approached him.
He stared at the sword Jiang Yue was handing back to the prop team, his expression incredibly complicated.
After holding it in for a long time, he finally blurted out a sentence.
“Teacher Jiang.”
“You call this never having practiced before? How am I supposed to make a living in this industry after twenty years if you can do that?!”
Hearing this, several production assistants packing up cables nearby almost burst out laughing.
But no one thought Old Hong was exaggerating.
Jiang Yue's sword dance just now—his posture, rhythm, and points of exertion—had been absolutely seamless.
Hearing this, Jiang Yue smiled. Instead of taking the credit, he subtly complimented the other man. “Brother Hong laid a great foundation. I was just copying what you did.”
These words were incredibly comforting.
It sounded sweet to Old Hong's ears, and the conflict on his face immediately melted into a smile.
In his heart, his evaluation of Jiang Yue rose yet another notch.
This young man is not only a great actor, but he also knows how to carry himself.
No wonder Director Xu treats him like a precious treasure.
Behind the monitor, Assistant Director Zhao Gang was still repeatedly dragging the progress bar.
He watched it once, rewound it, and watched it again, getting more and more engrossed with each viewing.
Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind, and he turned to look at Xu Pingqiu. “Director Xu, that person watching from the corner just now... could it be Mr. Shen?”
“Yeah.”
Xu Pingqiu slowly unscrewed his thermos.
Zhao Gang sucked in a sharp breath.
“Mr. Shen Donglou? He actually came to the set in person to check up on us?”
Shen Donglou.
The producer of 《The Grand Game》.
He was famous in the industry for his sharp eye and for being incredibly difficult to fool.
Xu Pingqiu snorted softly.
“Back then, I went against all objections to offer Jiang Yue the highest pay rate for a newcomer.”
“The investors have always had an issue with that.”
“They thought I was going senile, throwing the investors' money away in a fit of pique.”
He glanced at the spot where Shen Donglou had stood.
“He slipped in quietly today precisely because he wanted to catch me in a mistake and test this kid's quality for himself, didn't he?”
Zhao Gang suddenly understood.
“No wonder he watched for so long but left without saying a single word.”
“What else could he say?”
Xu Pingqiu pointed at the frozen frame on the screen.
In the image, Jiang Yue's purple robes fluttered, his sword gleam slicing through the falling leaves like a bolt of silk.
It was a perfect blend of aesthetic beauty and lethal intent.
A confident, winning smile played at the corner of Xu Pingqiu's mouth.
“Shen Donglou is a master of calculations.”
“After watching this scene, he'll only feel one thing.”
Zhao Gang instinctively asked, “What?”
Xu Pingqiu took a sip of water and said unhurriedly, “This money was fucking worth every penny.”
Looking at the monitor, Zhao Gang couldn't agree more.
In this industry, background and seniority were all superficial.
When truly facing tough situations, only sheer strength was the hardest hammer to shatter all doubts.
...
Night fell over the Hengcheng Film and Television Base.
The lighting on Unit B's indoor set was rearranged. The main lights were turned off, leaving only a few warm lights in the corners simulating red candles.
The atmosphere of the entire set grew solemn and heavy.
This night scene was a three-way confrontation.
Chu Yan, Xiao Yi, and Lin Zhaonan.
Although Lin Zhaonan hadn't been able to coax anything out of Chu Yan last time, he was still convinced that this matter was inextricably linked to the Zhennan Prince's Residence.
Thus, he brought along Lin Zheng, who was using the alias Xiao Yi, and decided to investigate the hostage prince's residence under the cover of night.
Little did they know, this was a trap Chu Yan had set all along.
Chu Yan knew they wanted to investigate the prime minister. Since the fire at Shuntian Firm was already burning, he might as well add more fuel.
And conveniently direct the trouble toward the Prime Prime Minister's Residence.
“All departments, standby!”
The clapperboard snapped shut with a crisp sound.
Rate on N.U.
