The two had just added each other on WeChat when Xiao Zhu returned, her expression slightly troubled.
“I saw two men outside the car just now. The younger one was dressed fashionably, but he looked rather sour-faced. Was that Dong Zibin coming to say hello?”
At the mention of this, Li Qianxing’s face darkened.
Jiang Lin’s response was equally sarcastic. “That’s him. But it was his agent who came to greet us. He was just there to act as a parrot.”
Xiao Zhu immediately grasped the subtext, her eyes widening in shock. “He’s a complete newbie, and his first drama is a chance to work with two veteran award-winning actors. I’m not saying he needs to suck up, but shouldn’t he at least be humble and seek guidance? How dare he put on airs?”
Jiang Lin shrugged. “Maybe his persona is meant to be introverted and taciturn? In his agent’s words—it’s his first time filming, so he’s nervous.”
Xiao Zhu clicked her tongue. “I didn’t see a hint of nervousness on his face. He was so cocky, it was like his facial nerves were paralyzed. I wonder if he’ll even be able to make expressions when acting.”
Li Qianxing asked, “Is he the reason for the unusual atmosphere on set?”
The answer was already glaringly obvious.
Xiao Zhu pursed her lips. “That’s right. Yesterday was supposed to be Xiang Xiaohu’s first day on set, but suddenly these two random guys showed up with Xiang Xiaohu’s contract, saying they were replacing him. The whole crew was confused.
“But since you two had a day off yesterday, it wasn’t convenient to call you in. Director He was off too, so Assistant Director Zhao was overseeing things. Since the new guy just joined, they scheduled some simple scenes. The agent was smooth-talking, and the third male lead doesn’t have many scenes and they’re relatively easy to act, so Assistant Director Zhao let him give it a try.
“Who knew that out of four scenes shot during the day, he barely scraped through two. When Director He came to check in the evening, he scrapped everything and had them reshoot. After grinding through the night, they maybe got one usable take. Many in the crew said they hadn’t seen someone NG for an entire day in years.
“If it were any other director, they might have given up and just let it slide, thinking it was hopeless. But Director He is known for being strict. He’s famous for his ability to coach newcomers, so the regulars in his crew weren’t too surprised. It’s just that the schedule’s been thrown into chaos. They don’t even know how this morning’s scene will go, which is why Teacher Zhang told Li-ge not to get into makeup yet.”
Li Qianxing listened with a deeply furrowed brow. “Does the producer know?”
Xiao Zhu: “Of course, he’s been here the whole time.”
Jiang Lin, who had been scrolling through his phone while listening to her, chimed in, “This Dong Zibin is a small-time celebrity who just debuted through a talent show. He’s Nanchao’s latest heavily promoted newcomer. I checked Xiang Xiaohu’s Moments and Weibo. Yesterday he posted updates about breaking a bone, complete with a medical diagnosis and X-rays.”
Li Qianxing: “How do productions usually handle sudden accidents like this?”
Jiang Lin: “Since he was injured outside of work, it’s not the production’s responsibility. If he can’t join the cast, it’s considered a breach of contract. Not only would he have to return his advance payment, but he’d also need to pay a penalty. However, since Nanchao is replacing him themselves, they’ll surely pay what they owe without fuss. Dong Zibin might even work for free just to snag this role.
“Of course, they can’t just do whatever they want. When there’s a last-minute vacancy, the production will look for a suitable replacement, usually through internal recommendations within their network. Or, if they’re filming in a studio city, they might scout nearby productions to see if anyone suitable is available. I’ve picked up a few gigs like that myself.”
Seeing that Li Qianxing was still in a foul mood, Jiang Lin reached out and patted the back of his hand. “Why don’t we go over tomorrow’s scenes? Director He might move them up to film today.”
Li Qianxing lowered his gaze to look at Jiang Lin’s hand resting on his, then lifted his eyes to meet Jiang Lin’s gentle smile. Mysteriously, the displeasure in his heart began to dissipate, and he nodded.
Since Jiang Lin didn’t have his script with him, Li Qianxing opened his own and spread it out on the table.
They had already memorized all the lines for the entire drama, so they first ran through the dialogue without the script, then huddled together to review the annotations, discussing a few points.
Seeing them get to work, Xiao Zhu sat off to the side, scrolling through her phone. However, with the two of them talking nearby, her attention was repeatedly drawn to them, and she found herself glancing over more and more frequently.
She was familiar with the script, but somehow, what had seemed like normal everyday scenes when reading now felt like she was intruding on a couple’s privacy as she listened to the two of them. She felt her face flush and her heart race, fighting the urge to shout “I ship it!”
Unable to resist, Xiao Zhu kept sneaking glances while opening Weibo on her phone. She switched to her alt account and entered the 99CP supertopic, scrolling to find the latest fan content.
*
Li Qianxing was originally scheduled for a scene at 10:30 a.m., but no one came to notify him for makeup. Later, the assistant director contacted Xiao Zhu to say the scene had been pushed to the afternoon.
Around 2 p.m., the makeup assistant finally came to get Li Qianxing ready.
Jiang Lin went along too. He originally had two scenes with his “little brother” in the afternoon, but given the current progress, it was uncertain if they’d even get to film his parts. So the makeup artist didn’t apply his makeup yet, leaving him as a temporary spectator.
After Li Qianxing finished with makeup and wardrobe, the two arrived on set to find Director He explaining the scene to Dong Zibin, with the producer sitting nearby.
Or rather, it could hardly be called explaining – he was practically teaching him line by line how to deliver his dialogue and what facial expressions to make, even more meticulously than a drama school instructor.
Li Qianxing leaned close to Jiang Lin’s ear and whispered, “I didn’t know Director He had this teaching style.”
Jiang Lin smiled and whispered back, “Director He used to be a teacher, so he’s very patient. He likes to discover new talent; in his early works, he often used non-actors. In the drama I worked on with him, except for me who had formal training, the other roles were played by newcomers and amateurs. It’s just that in recent years, as he’s gotten older and has less energy, he’s gradually shifted to finding inexperienced actors with good skills.”
As he spoke, he glanced at Dong Zibin, who looked overwhelmed by Director He’s instruction. “We’ll see if that block of wood can withstand Director He’s carving knife.”
Xiao Zhu and Xiao Ding brought over chairs. Li Qianxing and Jiang Lin sat to the side, waiting until Director He finished explaining the scene to Dong Zibin before Li Qianxing stood and walked onto the set.
The scene was set in Ji Ming’an’s small rest area in the bar, or rather, his private dressing room. It was the same location where Li Qianxing and Jiang Lin had filmed their first bed scene.
In this scene, Li Qianxing only needed to sit still, while Dong Zibin’s blocking was simply to open the door and take two steps in – very simple. The assistant director took Dong Zibin through the movements twice before they were ready to shoot.
Having gone over the scene with Jiang Lin that morning, Li Qianxing had already recaptured Ji Ming’an’s state of mind. He casually sat on the sofa, lounging lazily against one corner, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, one long leg crossed, a tablet resting on his knee as he scrolled.
The clapperboard snapped, and Li Qianxing’s eyes moved slightly, as if seeing something interesting. He smiled, forming an adorable cat-like curve with his lips, making the cigarette bob up and down.
The next second, the door burst open with a bang, hitting the wall and bouncing back.
A figure stepped in, shouting at the person on the sofa, “Ji Ming’an, you’re pestering my brother again! It’s been years, yet you’re still haunting him like this!”
However, the lines were delivered a bit too quickly, making the whole sentence sound mumbled and unclear. Coupled with a lack of breath support, the second sentence sounded weak, with the voice gradually fading until the last few words were barely a mutter.
What should have been an angry confrontation turned into a timid, uncertain accusation.
Li Qianxing only heard Dong Zibin’s muffled mumbling, unable to make out what he was saying. He could only tell the lines were finished when Dong Zibin’s mouth stopped moving.
This didn’t affect Li Qianxing’s performance, though.
As soon as the door opened, Li Qianxing looked up. As he recognized the person, his smile slowly faded, a flash of irritation and impatience crossing his eyes.
He reached up to remove the cigarette from his mouth, still lounging lazily on the sofa, surveying the newcomer with just his eyes.
When Dong Zibin finished his lines and Li Qianxing didn’t immediately respond, a look of confusion was clearly visible on his face, his previous angry expression frozen in place.
Though Li Qianxing maintained his casual posture, the atmosphere around him suddenly shifted from relaxed and pleasant to oppressive.
As Dong Zibin met his gaze, he felt an inexplicable fear and instinctively reached out to steady himself against the doorframe.
Only then did Li Qianxing speak his lines, his tone languid, “Barging into someone’s room without knocking—did your father teach you such manners, or was it your mother?”
He paused, his eyes gleaming with mockery. “Your brother is so well-mannered, yet he has a brother like you. Is it your parents’ poor education, or did your brother just inherit all the good genes?”
Instantly, Dong Zibin felt humiliated, anger flaring up. However, faced with Li Qianxing’s eyes, he was inexplicably intimidated, his mind going blank. All his emotions seemed trapped inside, unable to manifest outwardly.
Forget about taking the step forward as blocked—he’d completely forgotten his lines.
Seeing Dong Zibin fail to respond and the director not calling cut, Li Qianxing had to save the scene.
He shifted slightly, settling into an even more relaxed position, his gaze changing from mockery to contempt. “Say something.”
Dong Zibin opened and closed his mouth, unsure what to say. His face gradually paled, sweat beading on his temples.
After receiving a signal from the agent Chen, Dong Zibin’s assistant quickly ran to a spot near him but out of frame, prompting him with the script.
Dong Zibin parroted the lines like a parrot, stumbling through the rest of his dialogue, mispronouncing several words.
Li Qianxing just stared at him steadily until Director He called cut. Then he abruptly stood up and walked to his rest area.
His seat was near Director He. The agent Chen followed closely behind him, bowing and nodding to everyone.
“I’m so sorry, Director He, Teacher Li. Zibin must be too nervous. He memorized all his lines last night, it’s just that Teacher Li’s performance was so good just now…”
Li Qianxing ignored him. He Zhanpeng was still relatively polite but waved him off. “Take a fifteen-minute break. Let him review his lines and process what I explained earlier about the performance.”
Agent Chen agreed profusely and tactfully withdrew.
He Zhanpeng then smiled at Li Qianxing. “He’s young, it’s his first time. Please be patient; they’ll mesh better with practice.”
Li Qianxing nodded and sat down to rest, occasionally exchanging words with Jiang Lin.
Afterward, they repeatedly shot that one scene, with Director He tirelessly instructing Dong Zibin on improvements. However, when he corrected one mistake, new ones would appear. When those were fixed, the previous errors would resurface.
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