Chapter 87: Rolling the Cameras, Life with the Crew

Lin Xiaohe’s words completely moved the hearts of the online community. Her simple statement carried a force that struck straight at the soul. Everyone who saw the news fell silent.

“Xiaohe, we support you!”

“We hope to see you again on ‘The Voice’!”

Netizens flooded the official account of “The Voice.”

“Please reinstate Lin Xiaohe’s qualification to compete—we’ve already forgiven her!”

“Yes, please reinstate Lin Xiaohe’s qualification, and Zhang Yang’s as well!”

At this moment, Zhang Yang was appearing in court as the plaintiff, while Han Han was the defendant.

In the end, the verdict was announced: Zhang Yang won the lawsuit. Han Han, having plagiarized someone else’s work, was ordered to compensate Zhang Yang with 100,000 yuan and received a one-year suspended sentence.

“Haha, Zhang Yang won the case!”

“I can believe in justice again!”

“Another piece of good news—Zhang Yang’s competition spot has been restored!”

“Haha, the world really is a wonderful place!”

The voices online, once full of attack, had now turned to support. Zhang Yang felt deeply grateful, especially for Mr. Jiang Yun.

As for Lin Xiaohe, the internet was divided. Some supported her continuing in the competition, while others did not. Though most had forgiven her, there were still those who could not accept her return. After all, theft is a major stain—a lifelong blemish. How could someone with such a mark become a public figure?

Lin Xiaohe, unfazed, withdrew from “The Voice” and left the metropolis with a carefree air. For a long time afterward, she did not reappear in the public eye.

“Cut!”

“Jiang Yun, what’s going on with you? Why do you keep messing up your lines?” Director Liu Guoqiang, wearing a sun hat and holding a script, criticized mercilessly.

“Sorry, Director, give me another chance. I’ll be more careful next time!” Jiang Yun replied.

“Next time, next time… How many ‘next times’ has it been? How many times have you flubbed this scene’s lines?”

Jiang Yun tried to focus—his acting had already reached a C-level standard, which was sufficient for Liu Guoqiang’s expectations. The mistakes were due to his scene partner, Zhu Yin, who played Nalan Yanran, always looking as if she was about to laugh.

Every time Jiang Yun saw Zhu Yin struggling to keep a straight face, he felt the urge to laugh himself.

He pulled himself together, determined not to be distracted by Zhu Yin.

“Action!”

Jiang Yun steeled himself.

He, playing Xiao Yan, wore black, his short hair neatly cropped to just above his neck. The scene was set in a soundstage, representing the main hall of the Xiao residence. Several people were present: Jin Hua as Xiao Zhan, Zhu Yin as Nalan Yanran, and a few veteran actors as Ge Ye and the clan elders.

With a chilling presence, Jiang Yun declared, “Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—do not look down on the poor youth!”

He drew his sword in a flash, slashed his right palm, and pressed a bloody handprint onto the paper.

“This is not a contract to break off an engagement—it is your certificate of expulsion from the Xiao family!”

Zhu Yin sprang to her feet. “You—you dare to cast me out?!”

Paying her no heed, Jiang Yun dropped to his knees. “Father, three years from now, I will go to Yunlan Sect and wipe away the Xiao family’s disgrace!”

“Good! Good! Good!” Jin Hua exclaimed three times, “I believe my son will not be a failure forever—one day he will rise.”

Jiang Yun’s eyes reddened as he worked up emotion, kowtowed three times, then rose to leave.

Zhu Yin and the actor playing Ge Ye also stood. “Clan leader Xiao, we’ll take our leave.”

“Take your Qi-Gathering Powder with you!” Jin Hua slammed the table.

Ge Ye mimed a gesture to receive it—it was a prop-less performance, with special effects to be added later.

“Cut!”

“That’s a pass!”

Liu Guoqiang said, “That was pretty good! A few minor issues, but nothing serious.”

He turned to Zhu Yin, “Zhu Yin, I have to ask—what’s so funny? Your shoulders keep shaking. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“It’s just, Director, the lines are so over the top!” Zhu Yin protested.

Jiang Yun rolled his eyes.

Liu Guoqiang rolled his as well. “I don’t get it—what’s so over the top? Is there a generational gap between me and you post-2000s kids?”

“Lunch break! We’ll resume in an hour!”

Jiang Yun plopped into a chair. “So tired!”

He’d been standing nearly all morning, reciting lines without pause—even with a soldier’s stamina, he was exhausted. It wasn’t the standing, but the constant speaking—his throat felt like it was on fire.

“Lunch is served!” called the crew member.

Jiang Yun got up to collect his boxed meal. Even as the lead, he had no special treatment. With the series planned for over two hundred episodes, every cent was carefully budgeted. Even their hotel was a basic express inn.

This changed Jiang Yun’s perception—he’d always thought filming meant comfortable hotels and gourmet meals. Only after acting himself did he realize the truth.

He thought to himself, “Did I just shoot a fake movie?”

He walked over to the crew member.

The crew member beamed, “Mr. Jiang Yun, here are your two portions—Director Liu insisted.”

Jiang Yun was speechless. Was this special treatment?

“Director Liu said you have fight scenes this afternoon—you’ll need the energy.”

Jiang Yun nodded, took his meals, and sat down to eat with little regard for his image, almost squatting like an old Xiaking native.

“Mr. Jiang Yun!”

“Huh?” He looked up to see Zhu Yin in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Mr. Jiang Yun, do you know who is playing the female lead, Xiao Xun’er?”

He shook his head. “No idea. Do you?”

Zhu Yin shook her head as well. “She’s so mysterious—the show’s been filming for two days and she still hasn’t appeared!”

Jiang Yun smiled politely and continued eating.

Zhu Yin handed him her meal. “Here, you have mine too. My management team always prepares food for me.”

“Alright.” Jiang Yun accepted it without protest.

After Zhu Yin left, Jiang Yun sighed, “When will I have an all-around management team taking care of everything for me?”

After a half-hour rest post-lunch, shooting resumed in earnest.

“Next, we’ll film the coming-of-age ceremony sequence.”

“The conflict between Xiao Yan and Xiao Ning.”

The drama adaptation moved at an even faster pace than the novel; scenes were cut or altered as needed, some even heavily rewritten.

This meant many adaptations strayed from the original, but Liu Guoqiang’s principle was always to revise as little as possible from the source.

“Action!”

Jiang Yun, dressed in black, approached the stone tablet and pressed his right palm slowly against its surface.

A veteran actor nearby feigned shock. “Dou Qi—level seven?!”

A wave of exclamation swept through the extras.

“Level seven?! Four levels of Dou Qi in a single year!”

“A genius—Young Master Xiao Yan is a true prodigy!”

The extras with lines performed with gusto.

ps: Thanks to “Book Friend 2021061016416359” for the monthly ticket!