Chapter 55: Handsome Young Man

Ji Chenxuan’s promises were always firm and unwavering.

A few days later, Xiao Chi received a message from Liu Bing. The film company had agreed to let him join the cast, but the lead male roles were already assigned to Xie Ting and Lu Sheng. His role would be the third male lead, a character with relatively few scenes but a well-developed tragic hero persona.

Xiao Chi read the script and went over it several times, thoroughly enjoying it.

He wasn’t particularly skilled at understanding human emotions, but over the past days, he had gained quite a bit of insight into “being human.” The more emotionally charged the character, the more excited he became. The things he hadn’t experienced, he was even more eager to try and experience.

The script was for director Yang Zhisheng’s new movie, Rising Sun, a project that had been in preparation for two years. It told the story of the rise and fall of two nations during a dynastic change hundreds of years ago. It was filled with love, hatred, family loyalty, and the struggles between two warring ethnic groups. The protagonist was caught in the gap between the two opposing nations, struggling to survive, and ultimately becoming a tragic casualty of war.

The film was titled Rising Sun, but its essence was pure tragedy and despair.

On the first day of filming, Xiao Chi was woken up early by Liu Bing. When he was pushed into the car, his eyes were nearly glued shut, barely able to open.

Lazily slumped in the back seat, Xiao Chi yawned and complained, “Didn’t you say my scenes were few, and I could join the set later?”

“It’s changed.” Liu Bing turned to him from the front passenger seat, tossing the new script to him. “They added more scenes for you. I just got the script, it’s still fresh.”

“Added scenes?” Xiao Chi scratched his head, confused. He quickly flipped through the script, scanning rapidly, and was increasingly surprised. “They added so much? It’s almost like I’m taking on the second male lead.”

“Yeah.” Liu Bing glanced at him through the rearview mirror, a half-smile playing on his lips. “The investors insisted on it. Can’t say no.”

“Ji Chenxuan?” Xiao Chi immediately understood, feeling slightly embarrassed. He rolled the script into a tube and fiddled with it in his hands. “Is this really okay?”

“It’s definitely good for you.” Liu Bing spoke seriously. “The script is solid, the character is charming, memorable, and with a well-known director backing it, heading for the Golden Scale Film Festival. It’s top-tier resources, no doubt. The only thing I’m worried about is…”

“What?” Xiao Chi suddenly lost all drowsiness, leaning in closer. In the light of the car, his large, dark eyes blinked and focused on Liu Bing.

“It’s you.” Liu Bing, seeing his intense gaze, furrowed his brows and looked worried, like a mother hen. “This film has big names from the writer, director, to the actors. Xie Ting goes without saying, the female lead, Lin Miao, is also a top star. Even Lu Sheng is one of the hottest rising names with plenty of film and TV projects under his belt.”

“And then there’s you. A pure rookie, your first film, no formal training, and aside from your recent popularity, you don’t have any impressive accomplishments. The production team initially didn’t want you because they were worried you might drag everyone down.”

Liu Bing sighed heavily. “If I had known, I should’ve gone to Central Drama School and found an experienced teacher to train you for a while.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant.” Xiao Chi grinned, his eyes sparkling, as always unaware of the concept of modesty. “Acting, I’m good at that.”

Liu Bing was speechless, losing his temper entirely. “I wonder if there’s anything you’re not good at in this world.”

“There is.” Xiao Chi answered without hesitation. “I can’t have children.”

Liu Bing: “…”

The assistant, Qin Huai, who was driving, chuckled softly. “Brother Xiao really knows how to joke.”

Xiao Chi muttered quietly, “I’m obviously serious.”

The Tianlu Film Base was located on the outskirts of Beidu and was one of the largest film centers in the north.

Liu Bing got out of the nanny car, with a headset in his left ear, speaking with the producer while occasionally giving instructions to Qin Huai. He then turned and pulled Xiao Chi out of the car, repeatedly reminding him as if he were a nervous father sending his child to school on the first day.

“…I’m meeting the producer to discuss some things. You and Qin Huai will head to the set later. Remember to keep a low profile, be humble, don’t speak out of turn, don’t offend anyone. If something comes up, just ask Qin Huai to handle it, and if it’s really urgent, call me. Understood?”

Xiao Chi nodded repeatedly. “Got it, got it.”

Liu Bing gave him one last look. “Why am I so worried?”

Xiao Chi was puzzled. “Why do you sound just like Ji Chenxuan?”

The film base was vast, and the Rising Sun crew occupied the central part of it, an area with extremely high rent, worth its weight in gold. To make every penny count, the crew worked around the clock.

Qin Huai, adjusting his oversized glasses, cautiously led Xiao Chi into the studio.

It was still early, and many staff members were busy—lighting technicians adjusting lights, equipment being set up. No one paid attention to them, and the two of them blended into the background like drops of water merging with a lake, disappearing quietly into the bustling scene.

This was Xiao Chi’s first time seeing such a big production, but he didn’t feel anything unusual. He acted more like a tourist exploring a famous landmark, hands behind his back, strolling around, marveling at everything. Instead of a rookie here to act, he looked more like a leader inspecting the work.

A space had been cleared in the outdoor corridor for resting, with a few simple chairs scattered around. Lu Sheng had just arrived, sitting and having breakfast. His manager had set up a small folding table in front of him with hot porridge, steamed dumplings, milk, and fruit—all neatly arranged.

“Brother Lu, you’re here so early.”

Lu Sheng looked up, spotting a familiar face. Who was it again? He recognized the person but hadn’t recalled the name. It was likely someone from the auditions, a secondary actor with a fair amount of work, but always in supporting roles, so he hadn’t paid much attention.

Lu Sheng gave a warm smile. “You’re early, too.”

The person pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. Lu Sheng glanced at the chair and saw the name tag on the back: Pei Fang.

“Look, someone’s even earlier than me.” Pei Fang gestured toward the set and squinted, his brows lifting in a way that made him look sharp, like two small knives.

Lu Sheng followed his gaze, his eyes narrowing. “Xiao Chen… why is he here again?”

“Brother Lu, do you know this guy?” Pei Fang seemed surprised, then as if remembering something, he slapped his forehead. “Oh, I remember now. The last time for the Tianyu Group’s holographic online game endorsement, you two did a livestream together, right? I watched it, haha.”

Lu Sheng slightly furrowed his brows, but quickly relaxed his expression. “I think it’s him. There were so many streamers at the time, I didn’t recognize them all. But now that I think about it, he’s here for the third male lead role, right?”

At this point, Pei Fang’s expression turned awkward.

Lu Sheng, pretending not to know, asked, “Wait, didn’t you tell me last time that you were definitely going to get the third male lead? What happened? Changed your mind?”

Pei Fang’s lips moved, his eyes shifted away, showing disdain, and his tone became sour. “Who knows? He probably paid his way into the role. He’s got some big shots backing him up. I’m just a small actor trying to make a living. They just switch roles on a whim, no room for me to say anything.”

The manager, standing nearby, sneered. “Not just that, I heard they even added more scenes for him. The script was changed last minute, and even the sets had to be redone.”

The manager looked around, a bitter smile forming. “Director Yang is notorious for being strict. Otherwise, why would everyone be working so early? No one even had time to eat breakfast. Everyone’s working on an empty stomach.”

Without him saying anything, Lu Sheng also noticed the subtle atmosphere in the crew, and with a smile, he said, “Tell the assistant to buy more breakfast nearby and bring it over to share with everyone.”

“Got it.”

“Brother Xiao, here, here!” Qin Huai had just made contact with the crew members when he turned around and couldn’t see Xiao Chi. He searched around and finally found him, then led him toward the rest area.

It was still early, and the director, as well as the leads, Xie Ting and Lin Miao, hadn’t arrived yet. Only a few people were seated in the rest area, with chairs labeled with names.

Lu Sheng smiled as he watched Xiao Chi approach and greeted him first, “Mr. Xiao, we meet again.”

Qin Huai, afraid Xiao Chi might blurt out “Who are you?”, smiled awkwardly and introduced, “Brother Xiao, this is Senior Lu Sheng, who’s playing the second male lead, Xu Mengqing, in this drama.”

Xiao Chi, keeping Liu Bing’s advice in mind, nodded modestly, “I remember.”

The sun began to rise, and a crew member brought over some bottles of mineral water to distribute. When it reached Xiao Chi, it was already the last bottle. Pei Fang’s lips curled into a smirk as he scolded the crew member:

“Don’t you have any sense? A handsome young man like this, and you missed him? What if he gets upset? You might not come back tomorrow!”

Nearby, some staff members glanced over, whispering amongst themselves, occasionally murmuring words like “dominant” or “arrogant.”

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine, no hard feelings.” Qin Huai wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Brother Xiao, are you thirsty? I’ll go grab some water.”

Xiao Chi shrugged nonchalantly, “Up to you.”

He looked around but couldn’t find a place to sit.

Pei Fang’s gaze flickered slightly, and he kindly pointed out a spot for Xiao Chi: “Mr. Xiao, look, there’s a spot over there. If you’re standing too long, you should rest for a while.”

Xiao Chi turned his head to follow his gesture and saw a black folding outdoor chair next to a monitor. It was indeed empty.

“Thanks.” Xiao Chi took a seat without hesitation.

Lu Sheng and Pei Fang exchanged a knowing glance, both smiling silently at each other.

Suddenly, a commotion was heard at the door as Director Yang Zhisheng arrived, accompanied by Xie Ting. Director Yang was a tall, muscular man, dressed casually with a baseball cap, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing part of a tattoo. As he walked, his presence exuded a powerful, charismatic aura, resembling a big brother figure.

Xie Ting walked beside him, dressed in a refined dark blue suit, which made him appear even more gentle and elegant, embodying a scholarly and well-mannered persona.

Yang Zhisheng was talking to him, his square face maintaining a serious expression, even when smiling.

When they reached the rest area, someone whispered, “Who’s that? Get up, how dare he sit in Director Yang’s chair!”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it was full of impact.

Director Yang stopped in the hallway, turned around, and frowned slightly. Xie Ting immediately saw Xiao Chi sitting in the director’s chair, and his expression changed subtly.

Nearby staff members all turned their eyes to Xiao Chi, their faces showing expressions of surprise, disdain, and schadenfreude.

Pei Fang quickly walked over and patted Xiao Chi on the back, again trying to kindly persuade him, “Mr. Xiao, if you’re unhappy standing, just sit in my seat. I’ll stand instead.”