Chapter Seventy-One: Dignified, Normal, Focused

Kong Tian once told Lin Xing a truth: for an actor to portray a role well, he must first believe in the character himself.

To truly inhabit the role.

This is no easy feat, yet if you can’t even convince yourself during filming, how can you expect the audience to accept your portrayal?

Lin Xing’s acting hadn’t yet reached the point where he could slip into character effortlessly, so he compensated with extensive preparation off-set.

The process of Lin Xing writing a character biography was, in itself, a deep dive into the role.

On set, he made a conscious effort not to chat with others, keeping up the aura of intimidation that Zhou Bo, the character he played, was supposed to possess.

As for the scenes themselves, Lin Xing maintained his state of mind throughout the shoot.

This particular scene, as previously mentioned, had its real highlight in Feng Qing, who had a lengthy monologue to showcase his arrogance.

Apart from that, the focus was on Wang Fei and the veteran actor playing Feng Qing’s father.

Everyone else was more or less a background prop.

As a result, there were hardly any solo shots for the supporting cast.

Yet Lin Xing still immersed himself entirely in Zhou Bo the moment the director called “Action,” approaching every situation as Zhou Bo would.

Take this scene, for example.

While Feng Qing was delivering his lines—and Lin Xing wasn’t in the frame—he continued to perform.

Opportunity presented itself.

Zhou Bo, as portrayed by Lin Xing, harbored his own thoughts. He was visibly irritated by Wang Qing’s brazen arrogance, which showed in his ruthless expression. After all, Zhou Bo at this point in the story had long since descended into villainy.

Yet a glimmer of excitement flashed in his eyes—the moment he’d been waiting for had come.

According to the script, Feng Qing should have pointed at Zhou Bo and unleashed another barrage of humiliation, but he was startled by Lin Xing’s expression.

To put it plainly:

Everyone on set was acting, and doing so with focus; but Feng Qing was out of sync, his performance fragmented, his face wooden as he recited lines without true engagement.

That was bad enough, but his lack of focus and thought led him to freeze when he turned to point at Lin Xing.

“Get him out of here!” he blurted.

Zhu Ming could no longer bear it.

He’d given Feng Qing his chance, but Feng Qing just couldn’t deliver.

If someone can’t do the job, they get replaced.

Zhu Ming could yell and curse if he wished, but as the director of Group C, Bai Yan could not. Instead, he set down his walkie-talkie and approached Feng Qing.

“Director, let’s do it again,” Feng Qing said hastily after his fumble. “I was just thrown off by Lin Xing’s expression, so I—”

“No worries, let’s wait a moment,” Bai Yan replied with a smile. “Feng Qing, step outside with me for a second.”

Five minutes later, Bai Yan returned, his expression sour.

He’d intended to let Feng Qing bow out gracefully, but since Feng Qing refused to take the hint, Bai Yan would have to make the decision for him.

“Jiang Li, have you memorized Feng Qing’s lines for this scene?” Bai Yan asked, walking up to him.

Jiang Li was momentarily stunned. “What?”

“I’m asking if you can perform in today’s scene,” Bai Yan cut straight to the point. “You often memorize lines, so do you have any problem stepping in for Feng Qing today?”

“No, no problem at all!” Jiang Li replied, still a little dazed but quick to seize the opportunity he’d long awaited.

“Good. You have two minutes,” Bai Yan said. “Go over the script again by yourself.”

With that, Bai Yan conferred briefly with Wang Fei and the other actors, explaining that nothing else would change—they should act as they had before, except now Jiang Li would take over Feng Qing’s role in this scene.

The next take went remarkably smoothly.

In fact, it was a pleasant surprise.

Not only did Jiang Li execute the scene flawlessly, he also managed to hold his own.

How to put it?

Facing off against Wang Fei and Hong Hai, Jiang Li’s performance didn’t falter in the least.

“All right, that’s a wrap for this scene,” Bai Yan announced, clapping his hands.

On the other side, Zhu Ming nodded in approval as he watched the monitor. He turned to a nearby screenwriter and said, “Tell Liao Qingshan to add another scene for Jiang Li.”

“Yes, Director Zhu, I’ll let Mr. Liao know right away,” the screenwriter replied.

Half an hour later, the day’s shooting for Group C was done.

Lin Xing had no night scenes scheduled, so he prepared to return to the hotel once filming wrapped.

He needed to study the upcoming scripts carefully.

After all, his next scenes would all be with veteran actors.

“Mr. Lin, Situ Hui called you,” Xiao Nan informed him.

Lin Xing was surprised. “Did she say what it was about?”

“No, she just said to call her back when you had time,” Xiao Nan replied.

“Understood,” Lin Xing said, suddenly realizing what it must be about. He dialed Situ Hui’s number.

He suspected her call was related to today’s events.

But—

What could he say?

He couldn’t very well tell her bluntly that her son should steer clear of serious dramas, or that Feng Qing had a bit of talent, but not much.

Besides, it wasn’t Lin Xing’s place to comment on the affairs of the crew.

“What?” Lin Xing was taken aback. “You want me to talk to Feng Qing?”

“Lin Xing, just do me this favor. Try to talk some sense into Xiao Qing,” Situ Hui said helplessly. “I won’t reach Tan Province until tomorrow…”

Such is the heart of a parent.

Upon learning that Feng Qing had been replaced in the scene, Situ Hui had immediately called Zhu Ming to apologize for the trouble her son had caused.

Had it been a lesser director, Situ Hui might have held her ground, but with Zhu Ming—toward whom she already owed a favor—she could only be contrite, especially after her son’s delays.

Out of both sentiment and propriety, Situ Hui knew she had to apologize first.

She understood Zhu Ming well enough to know she couldn’t afford to be confrontational, so she was as conciliatory as possible.

Zhu Ming had been fuming, but Situ Hui promised to help cast Zhu Ming’s daughter’s new film and even offered to serve as acting coach for a month.

In short, she made sure to lower herself as much as possible.

Thanks to this, Zhu Ming smiled and said it was no big deal, adding that Feng Qing was trying his best.

And so, the matter was put to rest.

Moreover, Feng Qing’s earlier scenes wouldn’t be cut.

The entertainment industry is much like any other circle—it’s all about trading resources and paving the way for the next generation.

Only then did Situ Hui breathe a sigh of relief, for she truly feared Zhu Ming might delete all of Feng Qing’s prior scenes.

Now, at least, the rest of Feng Qing’s work was safe.

But Situ Hui understood her son. He’d never faced hardship, never suffered setbacks.

That was why she hoped Lin Xing could advise him.

Lin Xing could only promise to try. After hanging up, he shook his head with a wry smile.

Situ Hui was treating Feng Qing as if he were a kindergartener.

But clearly, Feng Qing was a little stronger than she imagined.

If only by a little.

“Lin Xing, I didn’t expect you to come see me,” Feng Qing said as he opened the door to find Lin Xing outside. “Just for that, our grudge is over.”

Lin Xing: “?”

Ten minutes later, Lin Xing realized that Feng Qing was, to his surprise, an obsessive fan.

…