Chapter 66 1/2

The thirteen helicopters parked together created a truly spectacular scene.

Especially after Shengquan mentioned that these helicopters were bought for the film crew to use.

Even though everyone already knew their big boss was wealthy, thirteen helicopters were still incredibly rich.

Those in the crew who understood helicopters weren’t few. Even those who didn’t know before paid some attention due to the news of “Director Sheng commuting with a private helicopter” a while ago.

In China, personal air travel wasn’t open to the public. Using a private helicopter requires filing a flight plan with the aviation management department.

Approval wasn’t difficult, but it meant that these helicopters, bought by Shengquan, wouldn’t be of much use other than for filming.

Yet she still bought them, and not the cheap ones either.

While the crew was observing the helicopters, they were also delighted. The fact that their big boss was willing to spend so much money on “Interstellar War” indicated her high expectations for the film. Why else would she invest so heavily in addition to the already substantial budget?

The joy of the crew, both old and new actors, was evident. Seeing this, Gao Shi was even more convinced that the film would do well.

“Don’t worry; this movie will definitely perform exceptionally well.”

Compared to the younger actors, the older ones were more confident.

“Interstellar War” was all about big scenes, with props and shooting equipment for special effects that were comparable to those used in international blockbusters.

The younger actors were excited: “If our movie can be as popular as ‘The Cultivator,’ we could all make a name for ourselves.”

“The Cultivator” was undoubtedly one of the most actor-boosting blockbusters in recent years. Its impact wasn’t limited to the main actors; even those who appeared briefly became familiar faces to the public.

For these lesser-known actors, it was already an achievement worth envying.

If they dared to dream, they wished they could be like Jiang Zhen, who, for a role like “Master Xingyun,” became a sensation both domestically and internationally.

“I heard that Jiang Zhen used to be a martial arts instructor before playing Master Xingyun. Is that true?”

Someone answered, “Yes, it’s true. I saw an interview. He guided an actor in ‘The Cultivator’ who was picked from the extras due to his excellent fight scenes. When Shengdong asked him who he learned from, he said it was Jiang Zhen. Then Shengdong had Jiang Zhen audition for our film, and that’s how he got the role of Master Xingyun.”

The younger actor asking the question looked envious. “From a martial arts instructor to a leading actor, it’s like a drama plot.”

“But…” Another actor looked ahead and asked, “Jiang Zhen, as a martial arts instructor, did he get picked up by every film crew he went to at that time?”

Everyone followed his gaze and saw Jiang Zhen, who had just finished working out and had obviously just showered. He was wiping his hair with a towel and talking to Shengquan.

The tall man, with some water vapor still on him, looked refreshing. His sleeves were casually rolled up, revealing well-defined wrist bones. As he wiped his hair, the white shirt was slightly pulled back, revealing the handsome abdominal muscles through the fabric.

Originally, this scene was eye-catching enough.

When Jiang Zhen, to match the other person’s height, slightly lowered his head, and his originally fierce and deep eyes looked seriously and attentively at the person in front of him, even several male actors couldn’t help but praise:

“This is too handsome; it’s breaking the rules.”

Jiang Zhen didn’t need to do much; he just needed to stand there, and the atmosphere was immediately filled. However, usually, he gave the impression of a lazy lion staring at the camera. Although he looked good-tempered, his sharp claws were always ready to strike.

“As a fight choreographer, did the casting directors of the crews he worked with before go blind?”

The experienced old actor commented, “Fame nurtures people. Maybe he wasn’t this handsome before he became famous.”

Shengquan actually shared this sentiment with them. Her gaze couldn’t help but linger for a moment on Jiang Zhen’s elusive abdominal muscles. She felt that since the broadcast of “The Cultivator,” Jiang Zhen’s charm had been continuously increasing.

At least she had watched some of Jiang Zhen’s previous works ten years ago. Although he was handsome back then, in terms of charisma, it is easily ten times more now. Moreover, she had read a popular science article stating that men’s muscles would start aging around the age of thirty. However, Jiang Zhen’s physique now looked like it hadn’t aged a day over thirty, showcasing the perfect control of a well-maintained body.

“Have you been deliberately working out?”

“Yes, it’s necessary for the role. I’ve been training for over five months.” Jiang Zhen didn’t miss the admiration in Shengquan’s eyes. He pursed his lips, and the tips of his ears turned slightly red. “Do you think it’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay; it’s outstanding. Your physique could easily rank in the top five internationally.”

Shengquan now understood why Jiang Zhen’s fan base had grown so rapidly. If she were someone else, she would be a fan too.

Especially considering Jiang Zhen’s personality, although tough, once you got to know him, you’d realize that underneath the sharp and wild appearance, he was actually quite conservative.

Conservative in the sense that, as a martial arts instructor who needed to frequently expose his body, he felt embarrassed when praised for his physique.

When it came to the same gender, it was fine, but if it was the opposite gender, a few extra compliments would make his ears instantly turn red. Especially when facing Shengquan, he always made a conscious effort to suppress his aura, afraid of frightening her.

Shengquan thought this might be because Jiang Zhen grew up in a strict environment, training in a martial arts school with only male disciples. Later, he started shooting films and was busy all day. At that time, martial arts actors like him basically relied on their bodies.

Later, after the incident, he lay in bed for several years, almost cutting off contact with society. In other words,

Although he appeared to be a fierce carnivorous beast, in reality, Jiang Zhen was more like an herbivore.

Of course, it depended on who was looking. After all, Shengquan, after getting along with Jiang Zhen, felt that he had a pretty good temper. Although he felt embarrassed, he would still turn red at his ear tips and shyly invite her when he saw her observing during training.

“Do you want to take pictures?”

because Shengquan loved taking pictures of actors who worked hard on their fitness. If they looked good, she would occasionally post them on her Weibo for everyone to enjoy.

Basically, her Weibo posts were like this every day:

[The little sister’s abdominal muscles are so beautiful; add scenes, add scenes, @Actor]

[These chest muscles, this back—I need the scriptwriter to add scenes for him, @Actor].

Shengquan’s fan base wasn’t small, consisting not only of her fans but also those of the artists under Starlight Entertainment. Every time she praised someone on her Weibo, the fans would help that actor gain a wave of fans.

She once thought that if her Weibo could get advertisements, the effect would probably satisfy the advertisers very much.

But so far, no one has come to her for advertising. It might be because she looked like she could buy out those advertising companies.

In any case, in this situation, the actors in the crew all hoped that Shengquan would come and take pictures of them. After all, it not only indicated that their relationship with the big boss was good but also represented flow and popularity. Such a good opportunity to show their faces—who would want to miss it?

But this “who” definitely didn’t include Jiang Zhen.

So, facing his proactive invitation, Shengquan always cherished it. She took several shots with a click, click, click, and then selected the lighting, shadow, and angle. After that, she posted it on Weibo, satisfiedly watching the crowd in the comment section howl and scream.

Today was no exception. Because the helicopter was too cool, Shengquan even asked Jiang Zhen to go to the pilot’s seat for a staged photo and recorded a video.

Jiang Zhen, with an entire “wild” vibe, indeed matched well with this military-civilian dual-use helicopter. The compatibility was almost catching up to Jiang Ge.

After enjoying the beautiful *censored* together with her boss, the charming beauty held Shengquan’s arm and gently shook it:

“Take me with you, take me with you, Sheng Dong. I also want to participate in the anniversary celebration. I’ve never attended one before.”

She not only looked sweet but also spoke in a soft and sweet voice. When she needed help, that soft tone was simply lethal; anyone who could hear it would melt: “I’ll wear a mask and put on the hat you gave me. No one will notice.”

Shengquan had principles: “No, you’re so popular now. Going to such a crowded place, do you want to be surrounded by people?”

This was the first time Ming Qi saw Shengquan when she appeared on “Sing If You Want” a month ago, and it would wrap up today. She expected to leave tonight.

After enjoying the beautiful view with the boss, the first time she interacted with Shengquan, there was a bit of restraint. However, it turned out that a person who was loved by everyone must have their reasons.

Her character was pure and naive; her voice was soft and sweet; and she never concealed her thoughts. People like Hua Qing and Yuan Zixin, who were used to seeing the dark side of the industry, couldn’t help but favor her.

 “Well, Shengquan is also one of the old hands.

Mainly, Mingqi is really too sweet; whether it’s in terms of appearance, voice, or personality, it hits Shengquan’s aesthetic points accurately.