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Join the ServerThe box office success of the film shocked not only Liu Pangpang but also the higher-ups within the company.
However, the first person to come knocking wasn’t a board member, but Fu Mu.
Fu Mu confronted Liu Pangpang, sitting with a rather displeased expression in the office Yezi Media had cleared for Su Xuan. “Liu Pangpang, how did you manage to get Su Xuan a resource like *Nine Streams*? And from Wang Muzhe, no less?”
Liu Pangpang deliberated before deciding to tell the truth. “This resource was given to us after Wang Muzhe withdrew; we didn’t fight for it.”
Fu Mu offered a mirthless smile, his eyes narrowing at Liu Pangpang. “Do you think I’d believe that? Why don’t you just say Wang Muzhe personally delivered the resource to you?”
Liu Pangpang stammered, “…But he really did deliver it.”
It had just been delivered to their doorstep.
Fu Mu stared ominously at Liu Pangpang. “Are you trying to fool a child? Why would Wang Muzhe give Su Xuan resources? What’s in it for him?”
Liu Pangpang actually didn’t know what Wang Muzhe was after, so he just made up a random explanation. “Su Xuan is Wang Muzhe’s junior brother, and Su Xuan even made a guest appearance in Wang Muzhe’s graduation play.”
Fu Mu, this little lunatic, was desperate for fame. Without a plausible reason, he wouldn’t easily leave after learning Su Xuan had secured two such excellent resources.
Fu Mu scoffed, disbelievingly, “If that’s the case, why didn’t he help Su Xuan before?”
Under Fu Mu’s skeptical gaze, Liu Pangpang explained with genuine sincerity, “Before, Su Xuan was too obscure. Even if Actor Wang wanted to help, he wouldn’t have known where to start.”
Fu Mu fell silent.
But Fu Mu was clearly not so easily dismissed. He frowned, watching Liu Pangpang suspiciously for a moment, while Liu Pangpang tried to offer a sincere smile, hoping his innocent expression might sway this little madman.
Liu Pangpang secretly detested Fu Mu, this damned fellow. Yet, he had to admit that neither he nor Su Xuan could afford to provoke Fu Mu at this stage.
It wasn’t that they feared his power or influence; people in the industry weren’t afraid of those in high positions. What they truly feared was a rabid dog that, once it bit, wouldn’t let go.
Fu Mu was truly unhinged.
At seventeen or eighteen, he had recklessly undergone plastic surgery to resemble Shen Chao, then clawed his way to the top by riding on negative publicity. That ruthless ambition for fame was something Su Xuan couldn’t compare to.
Even if it meant trampling himself into the mud from the start, he possessed a savage determination, a ‘do or die’ attitude. Liu Pangpang, a law-abiding ordinary man, was quite intimidated by people like Fu Mu, especially since Fu Mu had relentlessly targeted Su Xuan for four years.
Now that things had finally calmed down and Su Xuan’s career was on the rise, Liu Pangpang still didn’t want to stir up trouble with Fu Mu.
Su Xuan’s foundation was weak; it was better to keep a low profile.
Fu Mu’s slender fingers, adorned with a stack of skull-shaped metal rings, swept across the ornaments on Su Xuan’s desk. The various trinkets clattered and toppled over.
He lifted his gaze to Liu Pangpang, then suddenly let out a laugh. “Brother Liu.”
The moment the words left his lips, a cold sweat broke out on Liu Pangpang’s back, and his voice hitched. “Wh-what is it, Fu Mu?”
“I’ve made many mistakes and offended Brother Liu and Brother Su,” Fu Mu said with a carefree, almost indifferent smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, until you’re satisfied, until you’ve vented your anger. I won’t fight back. I just hope that when Brother Liu has good resources, you’ll think of me.”
“I genuinely considered you and Su Xuan as brothers back then, but you didn’t include me. I had to find my own way out, after all.” Fu Mu stood up, his eyes sweeping over the disheveled ornaments on the desk, a barely suppressed viciousness in their depths.
Fu Mu casually shoved his hands into his pockets. “Everyone knows, right? If you want to make it in this industry, if you don’t get famous, you’re finished. Don’t blame me; I had no other choice.”
“I’m leaving, Brother Liu.” Fu Mu had already reached the door when he suddenly leaned against the frame, turned, and smiled again. “There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Actor Wang used to be with UK Entertainment. People who come out of that company are rarely easy to get along with.”
A corner of his mouth curved upwards, but there was no trace of a smile in his eyes. “No matter how good the resources are, Su Xuan needs the ability to carry them. How long has it been since he acted in a proper drama like this?”
****
After Fu Mu closed the door, Liu Pangpang exhaled a shaky breath, slumping into the chair, lost in thought.
He didn’t know how to tell Su Xuan about this. Should he say that his old ‘friend’ came to stir up trouble on the very first day of his comeback?
Liu Pangpang carefully righted each ornament on the desk. As he tidied them, he noticed a picture frame had shattered.
The visible photo was a recent still of Su Xuan from *The Courtyard*. Liu Pangpang pulled it out, only to discover another group photo hidden inside.
It was a picture of the three members of the ‘New Star Group’ from back then.
Fu Mu stood on the far left, rebellious and hands in his pockets. He looked at the camera with a hint of impatience, his face turned to the side, but his lips curved into a smile as he gazed at Su Xuan, who stood in the middle.
Su Xuan flashed a V-sign at the camera, grinning widely, his teeth showing, utterly devoid of any idol-like pretense.
On the far right was Shen Chao, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Su Xuan. His expression was less cold than it was now, and he too was looking at Su Xuan, his gaze focused and earnest.
However, in that fleeting moment when the shutter flashed, Su Xuan was only absorbed in his silly grin, completely unaware of the gaze fixed upon him from behind.
Su Xuan spent a day running all over the mountains with the crew, his back aching with exhaustion. He didn’t have any scenes that day, but it had been a long time since he’d been part of such an intense production.
He wanted to keep up and adapt.
Yet, he had underestimated the crew’s demanding pace and his own physical stamina.
Constantly, Hua Na’s voice could be heard through a megaphone, shouting, “Faster, faster, faster! Move, move, move!”
In the roughly ten-degree Celsius weather, Su Xuan was drenched in sweat from running, even his underwear was soaked. This was even more true for the two lead actors, who were dressed in thick costumes; Song Xiao had to be helped down from the set.
Only Shen Chao, who had the most wirework and fight scenes, remained composed. Hua Na hadn’t given him an adaptation period, immediately throwing him into many technically demanding scenes.
Amidst the resting crew, Shen Chao’s back remained ramrod straight. His face was slick with sweat, his temples damp, beads of perspiration dripping down as his makeup was touched up several times.
His stamina was truly remarkable. He hadn’t rested at all, and besides sweating, Shen Chao barely even panted, maintaining high efficiency throughout the shoot.
Shen Chao even helped carry equipment back to the hotel in the end. Su Xuan, who had only helped with a small folding stool, felt dizzy with exhaustion.
After a day of filming, Su Xuan numbly opened his WeChat step counter—over sixty thousand steps.
And all of them were on mountain roads.
Su Xuan felt like he was utterly useless.
How did Shen Chao manage to finish the day without even a flushed face or heavy breathing? Su Xuan felt that everyone else was as tired as he was, practically panting on the side of the road, while Shen Chao could still calmly lift his shirt and help steady Song Xiao as she walked.
Su Xuan finally understood why female leads always seemed to be captivated by Shen Chao after filming.
A man who could offer a helping hand in such moments was a true man.
Su Xuan ran with the crew for about ten days, developing muscles, and finally, his first scene arrived.
It was the initial encounter between Rong Yanji and Bai Di.
At this point, the female lead had disappeared, and Bai Di, in his quest to find her, had traveled to all the places she had once visited, searching for clues.
Among these was a martial arts tournament she had once participated in, known as the ‘Flying Swallow Gathering’.
The Flying Swallow Gathering was held annually, open to all cultivators in the world, regardless of life or death.
The top ten contestants in the competition would earn the qualification to unlock the ‘Path to Dao’.
The male lead enrolled in this tournament and encountered Rong Yanji, a disciple from a renowned sect, on the martial arts stage.
The male lead only possessed a broken sword, and Rong Yanji demanded he use a complete one. The male lead refused, and ultimately Rong Yanji conceded, fighting him with only one hand.
Despite this, he was narrowly defeated when the male lead used his broken sword to slice off Rong Yanji’s jade crown. Rong Yanji was mortified and ashamed by his own arrogance, feeling he had let down his sect.
Many of his former lovers were also present to watch the competition, and losing face in front of them naturally infuriated him.
The male lead, however, was oblivious. He even picked up the hair ornament, dusted it off, and frowned as he tried to put it back on Rong Yanji’s head. Bai Di had always used hair ties and wasn’t accustomed to the complex method of securing a jade crown.
Rong Yanji was stunned by his opponent’s actions and asked, “Why didn’t you kill me?”
The male lead earnestly replied, “You haven’t done anything evil. I won’t kill you. This is a competition; consider your death by my sword to be when your hair crown was cut off.” This was something the female lead had taught him.
Ultimately, Rong Yanji, with a smile as radiant as peach blossoms, cursed, “You truly are a fool!” He then, in turn, cut off the male lead’s hair tie with a single stroke of his sword, acknowledging defeat with noble grace, his hair now flowing freely, before departing.
This was both a martial arts scene and a dance scene. The two characters fighting on stage needed to be both forceful and aesthetically pleasing, especially Su Xuan’s portrayal of Rong Yanji, whose fight choreography demanded even greater beauty.
Rong Yanji was famously vain; even his fights had to be beautiful.
This was not an easy scene to shoot, and Su Xuan was a newcomer. Hua Na had already prepared for countless retakes.
He chose this scene to ‘open’ Su Xuan, intending to test his limits. Hua Wei had been grumbling at home for half a month about how difficult the role of Rong Yanji was to play, and Hua Na felt quite anxious, unsure of how Su Xuan would perform.
Su Xuan felt even more anxious—the last time he’d filmed an action scene was while operating an excavator.
Web dramas of this caliber typically required actors to train with a martial arts choreographer for one or two months in advance. However, Su Xuan had only ten days to adapt to his lines, script, blocking, and action choreography combined.
Su Xuan felt like a student about to take a postgraduate entrance exam, still memorizing A-list vocabulary for a beginner’s English test.
He had no idea how he would perform.
Su Xuan was sleepless the night before filming this scene.
Before the shoot began, Hua Na explained the scene to Su Xuan. “Just give it a try. We’re not in a hurry; we can take our time. Believe in yourself; you won’t do badly!”
Hua Na clapped Su Xuan heartily on the shoulder. Song Xiao also came over to watch the spectacle. “You performed so well in *The Courtyard*; there’s no need to be nervous.”
Shen Chao simply watched him silently.
Su Xuan was fitted with the wire harness, mentally reciting the action essentials his martial arts instructor had taught him: ‘First, left hand swinging sleeve—then right hand—then left leg—then right leg.’
Su Xuan was like a student frantically cramming answers in the last five minutes before an exam—’Left, right, left, right, up, down, up, down!’
Then, as the wires lifted him, everyone’s expectant gazes followed the formidable Su Xuan.
Su Xuan’s eyes sharpened—and then all four of his limbs shot out simultaneously!
The wires swung Su Xuan around in the air like a little turtle.
Hua Na fell silent.
Song Xiao fell silent.
Shen Chao fell silent.
The onlookers fell silent.
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