LOI Chapter 58 — Very Interesting

The official title for the train heist film was “Express,” with the main plot revolving around a gang of robbers attempting to steal from wealthy businessmen aboard a train. There were a lot of subplots featuring kidnappers, drug dealers, smugglers, and various factions of law enforcement. Until characters revealed their true identities, no one could be certain who was friend or foe.

Some actors had already joined the production, and Rong Ke didn’t dare delay. He began packing his luggage the day he received his role.

“Should we bring the rice cooker?” Yan Zhi asked, holding the kitchen appliance as he entered the bedroom. “I’ve heard some film crews serve terrible food.”

“No need,” Rong Ke replied while folding clothes. “There’s no place to cook on set.”

Shortly after, Yan Zhi returned with a sleeping bag. “Should we take this? Will we spend overnights on location?”

Rong Ke’s forehead creased. “We’re just filming, not going off the grid. Can’t you pack normal things?”

“Got it,” Yan Zhi nodded. A moment later, he poked his head in again. “How many boxes of condoms should I pack?”

Rong Ke: “…”

“One box should do. Filming is exhausting; we might not have the energy. If we run out, we can always buy more at a convenience store.”

“They might not have orange flavor,” Yan Zhi said thoughtfully. “I’ll pack three boxes.”

After Rong Ke finished packing, he checked Yan Zhi’s luggage. The suitcase contained fishing gear, a frisbee, Jack, Lily, Thomas…

Suppressing a headache, he said, “We’re going to work.”

“One should enjoy life outside of work,” Yan Zhi replied. “I probably won’t have many scenes. Consider it my countryside getaway.”

“Are you taking Jack on a getaway?” Rong Ke dumped the contents onto the bed, exasperated. “Pack again!”

While Rong Ke was ready to go, Yan Zhi continued to dawdle over his packing.

Knowing he’d have to wait a while longer, Rong Ke pulled out his phone and idly scrolled through Weibo.

The entertainment world’s latest buzz centered on Wen Cheng’s new film changing investors. To Rong Ke’s surprise, Wen Cheng had already chosen a new lead actor – Jiang Si.

[Breaking: Jiang Si to star in Wen Cheng’s new film “The Tempest.” Reportedly, Jiang Si’s acting has greatly improved, earning Wen Cheng’s praise. Are you looking forward to this movie?]

[The theme of “The Tempest” is about enduring humiliation to achieve greater goals, fitting Jiang Si’s mindset over the past six months. Will he deliver a satisfactory performance? [Interview Video]]

The comments under these official posts were flooded with Jiang Si’s fans, spouting phrases like “Si Si has limitless potential, a future award-winning actor,” “Hard work pays off, and good times will come,” and “Heaven won’t let down those who strive.” Reading them made Rong Ke cringe.

A neutral marketing account analyzed why Wen Cheng had chosen Jiang Si. The gist was that the investor for The Tempest had changed to ×× Studios, and Jiang Si’s boss Zou Wei’s wife was a high-ranking executive at ×× Studios. So, it was all business and had nothing to do with Jiang Si’s acting skills.

With Jiang Si’s resources dwindling, The Tempest would be his last chance to turn things around. If he failed to deliver, he would likely fade into obscurity.

Many of Jiang Si’s fans were lashing out in the comments, but the blogger stood firm and directly blocked anyone who attacked them. As a result, many neutral comments were visible.

[Wait, Jiang Si hasn’t faded yet? /Question mark]

[Speaking of which, where’s Liu Qing? One of the couple was completely gone and the other was barely hanging on. Did I miss something?]

[Gossip from Guatian: Their relationship was fake from the start. Jiang Si will officially announce their breakup soon.]

[So, is Liu Qing completely done for?]

[I have a feeling Jiang Si won’t last much longer either.]

Yan Zhi finally finished packing his suitcase. Seeing Rong Ke engrossed in his phone, he sat beside him and asked, “What are you looking at?”

“Jiang Si has been cast as the male lead in ‘The Tempest,'” Rong Ke replied.

“Really?” Yan Zhi seemed surprised. “Why did Wen Cheng…”

“He probably doesn’t know Jiang Si was behind the previous attacks on ‘The Tempest,'” Rong Ke’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Don’t you find it…”

Yan Zhi raised an eyebrow and finished the thought, “Very interesting.”

Lately, the couple had been too preoccupied with their own affairs to deal with Jiang Si, that attention-seeking clown.

Who would have thought he’d dare to accept Wen Cheng’s new film? Truly a case of… a dead pig fearing no boiling water¹.

Rong Ke opened his contacts, found Luo Fei’s number, and said, “Xiangzi, I have a task for you.”

–

All scenes for “Express” were to be filmed on sets built within a film studio. In the spacious area, several train cars stood motionless on tracks. The interiors were authentic recreations, while the exteriors were surrounded by blue screens for post-production convenience.

Unlike other film productions, Jiang Hua skipped the script reading session, saying the script was constantly being revised and there was no point in reading it beforehand.

Rong Ke had already memorized his script thoroughly, but on the first day of shooting, Jiang Hua handed him two new pages, saying, “We’ll film according to this today.”

The two pages contained entirely new dialogue and scenes. Rong Ke, somewhat confused, asked, “It says here I hide my service weapon, but where should I hide it?”

Jiang Hua pointed at the train and said, “It’s a big place. Go find a spot yourself.”

Rong Ke hesitantly asked, “Am I supposed to improvise?”

“Right now, you are a police officer, not just playing one,” Jiang Hua explained. “This isn’t improvisation. It’s about using your mindset to figure out what a police officer would do in a crisis.”

Rong Ke: “…”

If only he’d known, he would have accepted that police station chief’s offer to become an auxiliary officer.

“Why don’t you hide it under the seat?” suggested Yan Zhi, who was also listening to Jiang Hua’s direction.

“That could work,” Jiang Hua considered, “but don’t underestimate the robbers’ intelligence. They know there are cops on board, so they’ll search thoroughly. If they find the gun, Rong Ke’s role ends right there.”

Wait a minute, aren’t I the main character…?

Rong Ke suddenly realized that in this film, it wasn’t the screenwriter designing how characters would survive, but the actors themselves.

It was like entering a game world where, to avoid a game over, characters had to find ways to make it to the end. This feeling wasn’t just about portraying a character; it was about becoming one, with an unparalleled sense of immersion.

“Let me think about it carefully,” Rong Ke said.

In the end, he hid his service weapon in a wall-mounted toolbox. When the robbers searched that spot, he genuinely felt nervous. His shifting gaze and bobbing Adam’s apple were instinctive reactions, completely devoid of any trace of acting.

“Cut!” Jiang Hua called out. “Excellent, we got it in one take.”

After shooting a few more scenes, Rong Ke noticed that Jiang Hua wasn’t entirely leaving things up to the actors’ improvisation. He still controlled the flow of the plot. For instance, when a robber casually killed a woman, Jiang immediately interrupted, “She’s an undercover narcotics officer. You’ve just killed off a subplot.”

Not only the robber but even the woman herself had no idea she was a narcotics officer.

Upon learning this, Rong Ke was completely shocked. Could films really be made this way?

“For all you know, you might not even be a cop in the end.”

While the lighting was being set up, Yan Zhi and Rong Ke chatted idly. Jiang Hua, who was sitting nearby, chimed in, “That’s not a bad idea. We could throw in another twist at the end.”

But as soon as he said it, he glanced at Rong Ke and added, “On second thought, let’s not. Rong Ke already knows, so it wouldn’t be as interesting.”

Rong Ke wondered silently whether this script was meant for the audience or the actors…

He didn’t dare speak up, instead he looked at Yan Zhi and asked, “What role are you playing, anyway?”

They’d been filming for several days, and Yan Zhi’s character still hadn’t appeared.

“He’s playing the heir to a major corporation, the kidnappers’ target,” Jiang Hua explained. “Once we’ve mostly wrapped up the main storyline, we’ll introduce his subplot.”

Rong Ke recalled the initial version of the script he’d received and asked, “Wasn’t this character originally a little girl?”

“He’s more suitable, isn’t he? It’s typecasting, after all,” Jiang Hua said. “I’ve already gotten a feel for both of you. This role is perfect for him.”

“Or we could do it like this,” Yan Zhi mused thoughtfully. “The kidnappers think I’m the heir and go to great lengths to abduct me, but it turns out I’m not at all. That would really throw them for a loop.”

“Isn’t that just your real-life experience?” Jiang Hua’s eyes lit up with interest. “Let’s do it! Don’t tell the kidnappers beforehand. I want to capture their genuinely stunned reactions on camera. Ha!”

Rong Ke: “…”

A few days later, Yan Zhi’s scenes finally began shooting.

His role wasn’t particularly challenging. He was just an elegant, aloof beauty who barely spoke to anyone. Gradually, Jiang Hua felt the character was being wasted and let Yan Zhi design it himself. It was only then that Rong Ke fully grasped just how unhinged his boyfriend truly was.

“Are you sure you want to kidnap me?” Yan Zhi asked after being brought into the cargo area of a truck. Facing a group of kidnappers, he languidly pulled a gun from his jacket pocket.

The kidnappers were so startled they immediately cocked their weapons, but to their surprise, Yan Zhi pointed the gun at his own temple and said, “If I die, you won’t get a penny.”

Behind the monitor, Jiang Hua was laughing uncontrollably. Rong Ke, however, was a little confused. “How does a businessman even have a gun?”

“He took the gun you hid in the toolbox. Haha, what a genius.”

“…” Rong Ke fell silent for a moment. “So I’m basically dead meat?”

“Which is why I think you need to go rescue him next,” said Director Jiang. “Perfect, let’s do it.”

Rong Ke had noticed that “let’s do it” was Director Jiang’s catchphrase. Whenever an actor came up with some wild idea, he’d incorporate it into the script.

The original screenplay was now unrecognizable. Even Rong Ke wasn’t sure what role he was playing anymore.

On set, Yan Zhi was the one who could best match Director Jiang’s creative wavelength. Perhaps all artists shared this boundless imagination. Sometimes Rong Ke found Yan Zhi’s suggestions completely ridiculous, yet Director Jiang would slap his thigh in excitement and exclaim, “Let’s do it!”

In the end, Rong Ke did go to rescue Yan Zhi, and somehow, Yan Zhi ended up following him around. One moment they were distracting the kidnappers, the next they were disrupting the drug dealers’ plans.

The funny thing was, when the robbers and drug dealers wanted to kill him, the kidnappers had to protect him to get their ransom money. The resulting farce turned out several times more entertaining than the original script.

Another afternoon of filming arrived. As they reached the scene where Yan Zhi’s true identity as a non-heir would be revealed, Rong Ke was reviewing his lines when he overheard Yan Zhi asking Director Jiang, “What if I were an alien?”

Here we go again, Rong Ke thought. These two are about to start another brainstorming session.

“If you’re an alien, could you transform into different forms?” Director Jiang asked.

“Like, I could turn into liquid and slip through the cracks into another train car.”

“Hahaha, your imagination knows no bounds!”

Rong Ke was afraid that Director Jiang would say his catchphrase, so he quickly interrupted, “Director Jiang, if you’re really going to film about aliens, I’m out.”

Before Jiang Hua could respond, Yan Zhi said with a serious face, “Baby, as an actor, you need to be brave enough to try different genres. You can’t stay in your comfort zone forever.”

With Jiang Hua present, Rong Ke maintained a polite smile.

But his glare at Yan Zhi clearly conveyed one message:

Who the hell are you to give me acting advice? What’s next? Are you planning to become a director?