Half an hour later, the first trial recording session ended.
In the control room, the recording engineer, Old Zhou, dragged the progress bar back to the beginning and listened to it from the start.
On the screen, the recorded audio waveform was clean, and every syllable perfectly matched Chu Yan's lip movements in the footage.
Jiang Yue stood in front of the microphone, making no unnecessary movements.
Relying solely on breath control and phrasing, he perfectly synchronized his voice with the opening and closing of the character's mouth on screen.
No stutters, no pauses.
Even several explosive lines that tested his lung capacity were completed in a single, smooth take.
Old Zhou took off his monitoring headphones and looked into the booth.
He had originally braced himself for a day of repeatedly tweaking lip-syncing.
But now, it seemed completely unnecessary.
As noon approached, the folder in the control room already held one hundred and twenty audio tracks.
Looking at the high-quality progress achieved in just two hours, Old Zhou gave a direct thumbs-up to the booth.
“Teacher Jiang, with your vocal control, you can really go toe-to-toe with professional voice actors.”
Jiang Yue nodded through the glass.
“Brother Zhou, just mark any areas with issues, and I'll redo them.”
Old Zhou glanced at the mark sheet on the screen.
There were only three candidate pickups, all of which were minor issues with trailing breath that wouldn't affect the final cut.
He shook his head.
“No need to pick them up yet. Let's move on to the next set.”
Over the next two days, Jiang Yue made steady progress.
For several scenes of intense emotional outbursts, Old Zhou only had him redo two trailing breaths.
In less than three days, he had finished recording all of Chu Yan's post-production dialogue.
On the afternoon he finished recording, just as Jiang Yue walked out of the building where the studio was located, his phone vibrated.
Han Song had sent him a screenshot of a location.
The place was in the backyard of an old garden house in the Changning area.
The owner used to be an executive chef at a top international hotel who later transitioned to running a private restaurant.
It only accepted four tables a day, with strict security.
After driving into the underground garage, guests could take a private elevator directly to the backyard private dining rooms.
At 7:00 PM, the wooden door of the private room opened.
The room was heavily heated. When Jiang Yue walked in, the chill on his body had not yet dissipated.
In the center of a large table sat a deep-red glazed clay pot.
Red, glossy beef tallow and fresh Sichuan peppercorns floated in the pot.
The tenderloin slices, which had just been drizzled with boiling oil, were wrapped in a numbing, spicy aroma.
Han Song took off his coat, picked up the serving chopsticks, and scooped a portion from the pot.
“So satisfying! This is exactly the spicy kick I needed!”
He quickly wolfed down several mouthfuls of rice, and sweat soon beaded on his forehead.
“It's not easy to find such authentic soup base in a place like Donghai. Brother Jiang, you have to treat me to this meal today.”
Jiang Yue took a sip of his iced lemon water, drank half of it, and pulled out a chair to sit down.
“I saw your WeChat Moments this morning but didn't get a chance to congratulate you yet, Brother Han. Did you secure another top-tier luxury sportswear endorsement for next quarter?”
“The money goes to the agency's public account first, then gets settled quarterly. By the time it hits my card, it's been heavily cut several times over.”
Han Song chuckled.
“But filming aside, having my brother treat me to some private-kitchen poached sliced meat isn't going to bankrupt you, is it?”
Jiang Yue picked up his chopsticks.
“It won't bankrupt me. Order whatever you want, Brother Han.”
They wouldn't have said this when they first met, but now both of them exchanged such banter naturally.
The meal was thoroughly enjoyed.
Over the next few days, Han Song switched to tourist mode.
Jiang Yue glanced at Yuantu Technology's stable server data, scheduled automatic replies for a few non-urgent technical review emails, and simply acted as his local guide.
Both tall men wore overcoats and black masks.
They walked from the Donghai Bund to the City God Temple, and then wound their way to the Nine-Turn Bridge.
The cold winter wind from the river whipped against their faces, making their fingers stiff even just holding their phones.
Over these few days, the apps Jiang Yue opened most on his phone were maps, payment codes, and the restaurant favorites list Han Song had sent him.
As night fell, the two walked to the Bund's waterfront promenade.
Along the way, Han Song had also bought two bottles of cola.
Jiang Yue pulled out his phone, chose an angle, and casually took a photo of the river view.
He posted it to his WeChat Moments.
Caption: 【Finished with work, on vacation.】
A few minutes later, Han Song leaned his head over from the side and pointed at his phone screen.
“I say, Brother Jiang, you're practically acting like you've retired from the industry. Is posting only on Moments enough? Shouldn't you go on Weibo to let your fans know you're doing well?”
Weibo?
Jiang Yue paused.
The last time he had logged into that thing seemed to be when he first registered it.
One look at his expression, and Han Song knew exactly what was going on.
He held out his hand to Jiang Yue.
“Give me your phone. I'll show you how it's done. You don't have to be competitive about your social media presence, but at least let your fans know you're still alive.”
Jiang Yue unlocked his phone and handed it over.
Han Song opened the Weibo app, glanced at the profile page, and almost burst out laughing.
“Your profile picture is way too casual.”
Jiang Yue looked at the follower count column.
【280,000】.
“I have this many followers?”
He was indeed somewhat surprised.
In his memory, he had only ever reposted one promotional Weibo from the 《Manhunt》 crew.
“Don't you have any idea how viral your portrayal of Shen Xu went?”
Han Song raised the phone and took a selfie of the two of them with the Donghai tower in the background.
“I even came across clips of you back then. Come on, let's tag each other.”
Jiang Yue took back his phone and glanced at the photo.
In the photo, both of them had taken off their masks, revealing their full faces.
Han Song looked like a relaxed tourist.
Jiang Yue stood beside him, his side profile sharply captured.
He typed a few words.
【Finished with work, on vacation. @Han Song】
He selected the photo and hit send.
Less than a minute after the post went live, notification pings for comments started popping up one after another.
Han Song's fan base had always been very laid-back.
The star himself was the poster child for “anti-rat race” in the entertainment industry, updating his Weibo entirely based on his mood.
The fans had long since grown accustomed to this semi-hands-off style of following an idol.
But the moment Han Song reposted and tagged him, this group of laid-back fans immediately swarmed in upon catching wind of it.
【Holy crap! Brother Song actually went out to play with someone?】
【Who is this handsome guy? He looks so familiar. I need a context representative!】
【Case closed! It's Shen Xu from 《Manhunt》 last year! Double the joy for fans of both! How did these two salted fish end up together?】
【Two major salted fish meeting at the summit? What kind of offline team-building for an anti-rat race alliance is this?】
【Hahaha, one loves to travel, and the other never posts. These two are truly like-minded souls finding each other in the wilderness [doge.jpg]】
Jiang Yue's own comment section was even livelier.
Most of his 280,000-plus followers had casually followed him after being blown away by his performance as Shen Xu.
After the drama finished airing, the star had made no further moves.
Quite a few people assumed he didn't plan to stay in the entertainment industry.
As soon as today's Weibo post came out, several veteran fans immediately started building comment threads.
【He's alive! It's a living Jiang Yue! Not a fake account! Not hacked!】
【I refreshed three times and sat straight up in bed after confirming the ID. Brother, you actually remembered your Weibo password?】
【It's been half a year! Finally, fresh Jiang Yue content! Shen Xu fans are resurrected on the spot!】
【Quick, go set off firecrackers in the Super Topic! Our star is actually active!】
Many passersby and face-value fans followed.
【I came over from Han Song's side. To be fair, this guy is really handsome.】
【Just a passerby here, but he really terrified me when he played Shen Xu. Handsome yet crazy, but then he just vanished after the show finished airing.】
【Please take more photos! This one selfie isn't enough.】
【Brother, could you change your profile picture while you're at it? The current one is way too half-hearted.】
【What's your next drama? Just for this face, I'm pre-registering to watch.】
Jiang Yue refreshed the comments.
Reposts, likes, and comments were all climbing.
He scrolled down a dozen or so posts.
Some brought up old screenshots from 《Manhunt》, some asked if he was still filming, and others urged him not to go missing for another half-year.
Looking at these comments, Jiang Yue felt that he really shouldn't leave this account so neglected.
【Ding! Group emotional fluctuation detected. Prestige points +500!】
The system notification chimed.
Jiang Yue looked at the background data and did the math in his head.
No need to brave the freezing wind on set to do wirework, and no need to work back-to-back shifts on the filming set.
Just by moving his fingers to post a selfie, he could satisfy his fans and earn prestige points.
The return on investment was incredibly high.
He looked up at Han Song.
Han Song was leaning against the railing, drinking cola while scrolling through the comments, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“Your fans are telling you to change your profile picture, see? The public's eyes are sharp.”
Jiang Yue cooperatively handed his phone over.
“Brother Han, in that case, help me take a few more solo photos.”
Rate on N.U.
