Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Lu Yao saw the looks in their eyes clearly too.
When people looked back after growing up, they often realized that what had frightened them years ago was not truly so terrifying.
They had grown up and become stronger, so their opponents had become weaker.
That was how Lu Yao felt when she looked at Director Ji and Sun Lie now.
Hah. They were merely two damned men with neither manners nor decency.
The set was crowded. As usual, no one greeted Lu Yao. She found herself a place to sit, closed her eyes, and quietly reviewed the scenes she would film that day.
Today, they would shoot the hero and heroine’s first meeting. The Swordsman was a martial arts drama told from the hero’s perspective, but as the heroine, Chi Lian was more than simply the woman who ended up with him. She had a substantial role in the story as well.
Xiang Lin and Chi Lian first met during an assassination attempt.
Xiang Lin was a mysterious, upright, and generous wandering swordsman who entered the martial world with his abilities already at their peak. Shortly after his arrival, he solved a major case for the renowned martial artists of Fufeng Manor, but in doing so, he attracted an even more fearsome enemy.
Chi Lian was a killer for hire, the infamous Viper Rakshasa on the assassin rankings.
Most of this scene consisted of combat. The hero and heroine had to meet each other blow for blow as evenly matched opponents, and their fight had to look both spectacular and breathtaking.
Ji Lingze was discussing the scene with the assistant director beside him when his gaze happened to drift in a certain direction.
“The hero’s entrance doesn’t need to feel so deliberate. He isn’t the type to strike a pose merely to look handsome…”
Receiving no response, the assistant director looked up in confusion. The director had turned his head to stare at something and seemed lost in thought.
Director Ji could truly be called a young prodigy. Only thirty, he already had several smash-hit television dramas to his name. Better still, he was not merely talented. He was handsome enough to debut as an actor on the spot.
Countless actresses in the industry fantasized about winning Director Ji over. After all, having him meant gaining access to a wealth of resources and sleeping with a superbly attractive man. There was no downside.
Ji Lingze was of mixed ancestry, with deeper-set features than most people. His sharp, intimidating pale-gray eyes were cleverly concealed behind silver-rimmed glasses.
Wasn’t the person in that direction Lu Yao, the female lead?
The assistant director immediately understood and patted Ji Lingze’s arm consolingly. “Lu Yao looks like she’s in pretty good form today. You don’t need to worry.”
He had clearly mistaken Ji Lingze’s distraction for a lack of confidence in Lu Yao. After all, everyone in the production knew how deeply dissatisfied Ji Lingze was with the casting of the heroine.
Still, the assistant director was puzzled. Ji Lingze was no director without influence. Ordinarily, if he truly detested an actor cast in one of his roles, his personality would never allow him to accommodate anyone, regardless of their status.
So why had he put up with Lu Yao?
Could the rumors be true? Did Lu Yao really have some formidable financier behind her whom no one dared offend?
Ji Lingze calmly withdrew his gaze. “I hope so.”
.
A secluded mountain road.
One man, one sword, and one white horse.
The horse was a prized steed from the Western Regions, capable of traveling a thousand miles in a day. The sword was an unparalleled weapon that could slice through iron as if it were mud.
Yet the priceless sword hung carelessly from the saddle, while the thousand-mile steed clopped leisurely along at a pace slower than a donkey’s.
Whenever the wind stirred the quiet forest, the childish horse would even be drawn to the brightly colored flowers swaying by the roadside and wander over for a couple of bites.
Each time, the young man on its back would pull a bright red apple from his bundle and mischievously toss it ahead, luring the wayward horse back onto the road.
“Cut!”
Sun Lie composed himself and looked at the director in confusion. He saw nothing wrong with his performance just now.
“You’re too stiff,” Ji Lingze said. “You don’t need to maintain perfect bearing every second you’re on horseback. Xiang Lin is a carefree, dashing swordsman of the martial world, not a prince or nobleman.”
In his previous role, Sun Lie had played a devoted but calculating emperor. The noble, imposing young sovereign had won him many fans. Compilation videos of the character had amassed huge numbers of views across streaming platforms, and some viewers had praised his bearing as exemplary.
He had unconsciously retained some of those habits afterward.
Sun Lie did not entirely agree with the director. He believed it was more important for an actor to look attractive at all times so his fans would find him handsome.
But he said nothing of the sort and remained humble. “I’ll keep that in mind, Director.”
On the next take, he restrained himself somewhat, though not by much.
Ji Lingze’s expression darkened. He saw through Sun Lie’s little scheme. Since the man would not listen, Ji Lingze had no interest in wasting more words on him. He was only making this drama to repay a favor anyway.
He had, however, discovered an unexpected little surprise.
His gaze shifted toward Lu Yao, who was already in position.
This time, the director did not call cut. Sun Lie knew their scene together was about to begin.
He cast a discreet glance toward a certain spot. Sure enough, the person he had arranged was quietly taking out recording equipment.
The white horse spotted the apple flying through the air and broke into a run. Its rider swayed in the saddle and hurriedly seized the reins, laughing as he scolded, “Bucking on purpose again, are you? If you throw me off, who’s going to buy you apples?”
In the end, the white horse never got its apple.
A shadow was faster. A thin, blood-red line shot from the forest gloom, split the fruit, and continued onward without losing momentum, slashing swiftly toward the man on horseback.
The young swordsman’s pupils reflected the true form of that bloody streak.
It was a sword–a weapon of murder gleaming with an ominous blood-red light, clasped in a deathly pale hand.
The breathtaking, murderous strike should have been blocked at the last possible instant.
Yet in full view of everyone, the young swordsman on horseback froze.
The unsharpened prop sword tapped Sun Lie squarely between the brows with measured force. He truly felt the killing intent rushing toward him. When he met the cold gaze above the black veil, as indifferent as though it were looking at a corpse, the hair rose on his back. In his panic, he nearly turned and fled.
Fortunately, the more sensitive animal had been frightened too. The white horse reared its head and whinnied, backing away in alarm beyond anyone’s control. This spared Sun Lie from humiliating himself.
The entire set erupted into commotion.
Some people went to soothe the startled horse. Those who could not help instead studied Lu Yao with uncertain, astonished looks.
Had that really been Lu Yao just now?
An old saying claimed that after three days apart, one should view a person with fresh eyes. But for her, it had only been one night, hadn’t it?
Yesterday, Director Ji’s scolding had left her unable to hold up her head. How had she suddenly become so formidable today? That opening strike from the woods had suppressed even Sun Lie so thoroughly that he forgot his lines.
Some people were both relieved and disappointed. That entrance had been unquestionably breathtaking and striking, and her movements had been exceptionally crisp and graceful.
Unfortunately, Sun Lie had failed to respond.
When they shot it again, who knew whether she could reproduce that standard?
The reason for their relief went without saying. No one in the production was close to Lu Yao. If she truly found her footing and became popular, it would do none of them any good.