“Change sets! Studio 2, central army tent!”
Xu Pingqiu bellowed, and the entire set instantly sprang into motion like a set of high-speed, precision-cut gears.
Jiang Yue lifted the curtain and stepped out of the dressing room.
He was clad in heavy vassal king armor of black and gold, with his hair tied high in a purple-gold crown. Just by standing there without making a single movement, he exuded an unstoppable, battle-hardened aura of blood and slaughter, as if he had just crawled out from a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
“All departments, get ready!”
The clapperboard snapped crisply in front of the camera lens.
“Action!”
Inside the central tent of the Zhennan Army.
The space was spacious, yet the furnishings were minimalist and cold, reflecting the harsh nature of military life. A massive sand table, a yellowed parchment map, and a weapon rack lined with gleaming, cold weapons filled the room.
Lin Zheng lifted the heavy woolen curtain and strode in, bringing a gust of cold wind from outside.
Chu Yan stood with his back to him, leaning over the sand table, holding a small red flag between his fingers. He did not even turn his head. With a casual flick of his wrist, the flag landed with a sharp thud, firmly planted right in the center of the miniature model representing the imperial palace.
“You are half an hour late,” Chu Yan said, his voice calm and steady.
Lin Zheng stopped five paces away.
“The refugees blocked the gates.” Lin Zheng stared intently at Chu Yan's armored back. “The ‘grand gift’ you sent to the Emperor has added tens of thousands of wandering ghosts to the capital over the past few years.”
Chu Yan straightened up. He finally turned around, his gaze sweeping over the sand table to lock onto Lin Zheng's face.
“I was indeed the one who sent the gift.” Chu Yan walked behind the desk and sat down. He pulled a piece of coarse cloth and leisurely wiped the dust from his knuckles. “But they were the ones who drew their own swords. I merely gave them an excuse. Those princes fought each other to the death for that throne, so how is that my fault?”
He tossed the cloth aside.
“Did Officer Lin come today to stop my blade on behalf of that dying old man?”
Lin Zheng took a step forward, his voice tense. “The Emperor is old, and the imperial court is completely rotten. I cannot save him, nor do I want to.”
Chu Yan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against his chair in an incredibly relaxed posture. “Then why all the useless chatter?”
“When the world falls into chaos, it is the common people who are treated like dirt.” Lin Zheng looked at him with burning eyes. “If you want to sit on that throne, so be it. But your blade must not be pointed at them.”
The tent fell silent, save for the sound of the wind whipping the banners outside.
Chu Yan tapped his knuckles gently against the table.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“What right do you have to negotiate terms with me right now?” Chu Yan asked, his eyelids lifting slightly.
“By the fact that the city defense forces are still in my hands.” Lin Zheng held his ground, his neck stiff. “My meager forces cannot stop your hundred thousand iron cavalry, but I can make sure you pay with tens of thousands of lives before you even step foot in the city!”
The tapping stopped abruptly.
Chu Yan slowly stood up. He walked around the desk, closing the distance between him and Lin Zheng step by step. An overwhelming pressure, forged from a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, bore down so heavily it made it difficult to breathe.
Chu Yan stared at him for a moment. Then, he suddenly let out a soft laugh.
“You are still as foolish as ever.”
Chu Yan turned around, strode toward the weapon rack, and with a backhanded sweep, drew a longsword. The blade flashed with a cold, sinister gleam under the dim light.
“I did not lead my army here just to satisfy a bloodlust by slaughtering a city.” Chu Yan pinched the blade with two fingers, casually inspecting it. “The commoners pose no threat to me, so I will not touch them.”
With a flick of his wrist, he threw the sword backward.
Thrum!
The longsword bit deep into the wood, firmly embedding itself into the edge of the sand table.
“But the old Emperor's life is mine.” Chu Yan turned his head sharply, his eyes as cold as daggers. “And I will thoroughly slaughter those old fogies who stand in my way. What about you? Do you want to die with them?”
Lin Zheng closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently, as if he was making a massive compromise.
“The city gates will open at midnight.”
With that, Lin Zheng turned and strode out of the tent.
Wise men only discussed leverage. One yielded the path, while the other protected the people.
Just as Lin Zheng's hand touched the curtain...
“Lin Zheng.”
Chu Yan's voice drifted from behind. The coldness had faded, replaced by a rare touch of human warmth.
Lin Zheng paused but did not look back.
“If I had met you in the capital a few years earlier...” Chu Yan stared at his back. “Perhaps we could have sat down, had a hearty drink, and become friends.”
Lin Zheng stood in silence for a couple of seconds before spitting out four words.
“You are not worthy.”
The curtain was violently whipped open and then fell back heavily, shutting out the light from outside.
Inside the central tent.
Chu Yan stood in place, looking down at the layout of the sand table. After a long while, he reached out and plucked the yellow flag representing the old Emperor.
Snap.
With a squeeze of his fingers, the yellow flag snapped cleanly into two pieces, which he carelessly tossed at his feet. His eyes were filled with absolute coldness.
It was time for this world to have a new ruler.
“Cut!”
After filming several intense scenes in a row, Xu Pingqiu's voice was nearly hoarse from shouting.
“Passed!”
Only then did the nearby crew members finally stretch their stiff limbs. Just now, none of them had dared to make a sound, fearing they would disrupt the actors' performances.
Upon hearing the command, Jiang Yue deactivated his traits with a single thought. He massaged his aching neck, walked back to his folding chair, sat down, and unscrewed a bottle of mineral water.
In his mind, the familiar system notifications began to flood his vision.
【Co-star's absolute admiration detected. Prestige points +80.】
【Emotional impact on the entire crew detected. Prestige points +100.】
Jiang Yue closed the panel and took a few large gulps of water.
“Jiang Yue.”
Xu Pingqiu walked over holding a megaphone and a thermos, sitting down opposite him. “The scene just now was even more relaxed than your acting when you first joined the crew.”
It was rare for the old fox to praise someone so directly.
Jiang Yue smiled modestly, maintaining his calm demeanor. “It is all thanks to your excellent camera angles, Director Xu. The atmosphere on set was perfectly set up.”
Xu Pingqiu pointed a finger at him. “Save your flattery. Cut the corporate sweet talk.”
He put away his smile and adopted a more business-like expression. “Once we finish shooting tomorrow, Chu Yan's character will officially wrap up. Have you read the script I gave you last time?”
Jiang Yue nodded. “I have.”
Xu Pingqiu folded his arms in satisfaction. “Good. Shen Donglou happens to be in Hengcheng these days. The night after tomorrow, I'll set up a gathering and take you to meet him so he can inspect the goods.”
Jiang Yue did not rush to thank him. Instead, he asked an unusually sharp question. “Director Xu, besides Mr. Shen, has the director for 《The Hidden Sentry》 been decided yet?”
Seeing the boy's rock-solid composure, Xu Pingqiu's eyes twitched. After a brief pause, the old fox's lips curled into a grin.
“To my embarrassment, it is indeed me.”
Jiang Yue was momentarily stunned.
...
The following morning, at the set of the Taiji Hall inside the imperial palace.
The scene they were about to shoot was Chu Yan's final and most crucial scene of the entire drama. Chu Yan would storm the imperial palace and force the old Emperor to abdicate.
Xu Pingqiu sat behind the monitor, clutching his walkie-talkie, his tone unusually tense.
“All departments, pay attention! This scene has a lot of dialogue. Audio team, lower the boom poles!”
“Lighting team, cast more shadows on the dragon throne! I want that feeling of a setting sun, of a crumbling empire!”
With the preparations complete, the clapperboard snapped crisply in front of the lens.
“Action!”
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