APR 57

Zhou Kaiwen's temper, once ignited, was impossible to contain. Even by the time filming began, his expression remained foul, as if someone owed him eight million.

Seeing Zhou Kaiwen in this state, Jiang Xun simply assumed he was throwing another unreasonable tantrum and couldn't be bothered to deal with him. After all, the first scene today involved Zhong Su, playing Lin Wenhan, receiving orders from the leader to take Zhou Kaiwen to a restaurant and hold accountable an elder within the organization who had been embezzling funds.

The camera's focus was on Zhong Su, so even if Zhou Kaiwen, the lead actor, wore a dark expression, it wouldn't affect much.

Compared to the difficult-to-please superstar Zhou, Jiang Xun was more concerned about Zhong Su's performance. He rambled on with instructions: "Once filming starts, your expression when you enter the private room must be rebellious enough, yet with a hint of subtle hesitation, that sense of conflict. Ahem, just remember, you're there to flip the table…"

Zhong Su listened calmly, responding quietly, already clear in his mind about how to act.

Only when his lips were nearly dry from talking and he could think of nothing new to add did Jiang Xun reluctantly stop. He sat back in the director's chair and signaled through the megaphone to the clapper loader: "Alright, if there are no issues, let's get ready to start. Everyone in position, Action!"

The restaurant private room set was chosen in a small, still-operating eatery in the old district. The production crew had reserved a private room and temporarily modified it, redecorating it in a typical Chinese style. A large red round table stood in the center, with a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the room in a lively glow.

Several organization executives were playing mahjong, the clattering tiles echoing in the room.

As the camera slowly panned closer, capturing the actors' faces, one of them smiled warmly, flattering the white-haired, roughly sixty-year-old man sitting opposite him: "Uncle Tang, you're still as sharp as ever. Three 'kong' wins in one night, you've scared me into being careful with every tile I play."

The actor playing "Uncle Tang" was plump, with a square face and shrewd little eyes, a seasoned veteran. He casually drew a tile and leisurely delivered his line: "Heh, scared already after just a few rounds? Huoqiang, your mouth never tells the truth, always exaggerating."

"Play when it's your turn, rely on your own skills, whoever wins takes it all. Can't let you youngsters steal the spotlight all the time; us old bones deserve a moment of glory too."

As soon as the words fell—

Bang!

The private room door was violently kicked open from outside, and Zhou Kaiwen strode in first: "Hey, anyone dare move and see what happens! Organization business!"

He slammed a thick manila envelope onto the center of the mahjong table. The carefully arranged tiles collapsed with a clatter.

Zhou Kaiwen pressed one hand on the file, sneering as he tilted his chin toward the old man opposite him: "Uncle Tang, still finding time to play mahjong even with death knocking at your door?"

"Among those who handled the last batch of goods, only your accounts don't add up. How do you explain that?"

The sudden scene left everyone at the mahjong table stunned.

Uncle Tang, however, remained composed, still leisurely arranging his tiles without even glancing at the file. He said, "Young people these days are so impatient. What accounts are so urgent? If they don't add up, just take your time sorting them out. No need to come at an old man like me with threats."

"Six of circles—" He cheerfully played a tile, then finally looked up, his gaze passing over Zhou Kaiwen to the silent young man behind him.

He said, "Wenhan, you didn't even give a heads-up before suddenly bringing your men to interrogate me. Did you ask Ah Da about this? This approach doesn't seem to follow the rules, does it?"

Zhong Su calmly replied, "It was the boss himself who gave the order."

He wasn't intimidated by the old-timer's imposing presence; instead, he fearlessly met his gaze. "The boss no longer trusts you, Uncle Tang."

Uncle Tang's expression changed abruptly, as if thoroughly provoked. He grabbed the thick file folder and slammed it hard against Zhong Su, roaring, "How many years have you been in this game, you brat, that you dare use Ah Da's name to pressure me? Do you think sending a greenhorn with a pile of useless papers can finish me off?"

As soon as he said this, his men in the room immediately closed in, pressing cold gun barrels directly against the heads of Lin Wenhan and his group. Zhou Kaiwen panicked and let out a startled cry.

Uncle Tang threatened Zhong Su fiercely, "If you don't want to die, get your people out of my territory right now!"

According to the script, Zhong Su was supposed to say something conciliatory here to placate the elder, waiting for the gang's leader to appear and end the conflict.

But Zhou Kaiwen, with a gun pressed to his head, suddenly spoke up, inappropriately raising his hand to call for a stop. "Cut, cut! Stop!"

Jiang Xun leaned out from behind the monitor, looking thoroughly annoyed. "Kevin, why is it you again?"

Zhou Kaiwen interrupted him, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Director, I think I can do better in that scene threatening Uncle Tang just now. How about we reshoot it? If the shot looks good, the final product will definitely be better too."

"Oh?" Jiang Xun raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. "Kevin, have you changed your ways today? You're actually volunteering for a reshoot. That's rare."

In the past, Zhou Kaiwen had always been as perfunctory as possible when filming, rushing through his lines and eager to wrap up and rest. Today, with him finally cooperating, Jiang Xun was more than happy to go along. "Alright, let's do it again. Everyone reset, props team, tidy up the props quickly, this time, we have to make it perfect!"

Jiang Xun himself was an extremely picky perfectionist, thoroughly enjoying the process of reshooting.

But for the other actors, it was pure torture. During the subsequent reshoots, Zhou Kaiwen kept saying he hadn't performed well enough, demanding retakes, which led to Zhong Su being repeatedly hit with the file folder by the actor playing "Uncle Tang."

The file folder was heavy, with sharp corners, and even through his clothes, the spot on Zhong Su's chest where it struck still throbbed with a dull ache.

"Thud!" Once again, the file folder hit him squarely in the chest, and Zhong Su's mouth tightened into a frown.

"Pfft—" Zhou Kaiwen, standing nearby, caught sight of Zhong Su's expression and couldn't help but let out a smug chuckle, so soft that only Zhong Su could hear it clearly.

Zhong Su glanced at the malicious smile curling at the corner of Zhou Kaiwen's lips and understood: No wonder this kid insisted on so many retakes, he was clearly doing it to torment him.

If it were some other minor actor with little influence and too afraid to offend anyone, they might have just swallowed the injustice. But Zhou Kaiwen didn't know that the Zhong Su he was provoking wasn't the extra he thought he was, in fact, he wasn't even part of the entertainment industry and couldn't care less about so-called acting careers.

The world actors inhabit is called showbiz, filled with flowers, applause, and blessings, or at worst, petty jealousy and backbiting. Zhong Su's past, however…

In this circle, there was only violence that cut to the bone and one ironclad rule, whoever caused trouble had to own up to their mistakes and stand firm when taking a beating.

But Zhong Su preferred the rules he had learned himself.

Just as this scene finished filming, the moment Zhou Kaiwen opened his mouth again to shout "cut," Zhong Su suddenly struck, grabbing the back of his neck and slamming it hard against the table—

"Ah!" Zhou Kaiwen cried out in pain.

Amid the deafening crash, Zhong Su stared straight at Uncle Tang, his voice icy cold: "Uncle Tang, my subordinate spoke out of turn just now, it's my fault for not teaching him properly. I'll make him kneel and apologize to you, and let this matter end today."

Cold light cast shadows across Zhong Su's profile, making his hazel eyes appear deep and dark, unnervingly profound: "Don't think you're the only one who can throw your weight around here. You have men and guns, but I'm not lacking either."

Every word hit like a nail driven into bone.

This was entirely an improvised performance outside the script, yet no one dared to break the intimidating atmosphere.

Jiang Xun's eyes lit up, and he waved his hand downward: "Cut—! Keep this take! Zhong Su, you acted brilliantly! The performance was full of tension, completely exceeding expectations!"

Jiang Xun was practically beaming with joy, clutching the script and waving it up and down, almost praising Zhong Su as if he were an award-winning actor.

However, Zhou Kaiwen was having none of it. Clutching his swollen forehead, he protested loudly: "What's so brilliant about it?! There's no scene in the script where this damn extra slams me against the table, he clearly used the acting as an excuse to hit me on purpose! Director, look at what my forehead looks like!"

Jiang Xun pressed his fingers to his temples, exasperated: "Kevin, stop making a fuss. Why would Zhong Su hit you for no reason? He was just deeply immersed in the role, and the effect is even better than the original script. Don't make a big deal out of nothing."

The other actors were also fed up with Zhou Kaiwen's repeated retakes. Seeing Jiang Xun scold Zhou Kaiwen first, they chimed in with murmurs: "Does being a big star make you inherently superior? How can you accuse someone of hitting you on purpose without any proof? That's unreasonable."

"Hmph, who's really using filming as an excuse to torment a small-time extra? It's hard to say. We've already retaken this scene over a dozen times, do you think everyone else is blind?"

"No matter how many times we retake it, it definitely won't be better than this one. There's no point in dragging it out."

These whispers reached Zhou Kaiwen's ears without missing a word, pricking his eardrums like fine needles. Even as narcissistic as he was, he could hear the dissatisfaction in the others' words. The swelling on his forehead suddenly felt more pronounced, and his entire face burned with embarrassment.

He stood frozen in place, his clenched fingers trembling slightly, unable to utter a word.

Zhou Kaiwen finally seemed unable to bear the criticism any longer and turned away angrily: "Sister Lin, where are you? What are you doing? Are you deaf and blind like everyone else?"

He stomped his foot, venting all his anger on his Agent: "Can't you see my forehead is swollen? Hurry up and have someone buy me an ice pack!"

Seeing Zhou Kaiwen in this state, Sister Lin knew exactly what her star was like. She comforted him: "Kevin, don't worry. I'll have the assistant buy one right away."

He then had his assistant take the car keys to drive to the nearest convenience store and bring back several ice packs, which he applied to Zhou Kaiwen’s forehead.

After filming for the entire day, the production crew was both hungry and exhausted, needing rest and dinner. Once they had recovered, they would continue shooting the night scenes.

The boxed meals provided by the production crew were relatively generous, with a balanced mix of vegetables and meat. Zhong Su took his portion and found a sparsely occupied table to sit down.

He had only taken a few bites when a shadow fell over him. Zhou Kaiwen stood beside the table, arms crossed, openly mocking in a tone that held no restraint:

“Hah, what kind of greens and beef is this? Even dogs wouldn’t eat this stuff. Only certain low-class people could swallow it down so eagerly.”

As a currently popular idol, Zhou Kaiwen had always prided himself on his status and disdained the boxed meals uniformly distributed by the production crew. Every mealtime, he would inevitably have his assistant order better food from his designated high-end restaurants and bring it back for him.

Sometimes, the restaurant he chose was too far away, and by the time his assistant returned with the food, the lunch break was already over. The rest of the production crew had to wait for him to leisurely finish his meal before they could resume work.

As soon as Zhou Kaiwen spoke, the expressions of the other crew members eating their boxed meals around them darkened. Someone flushed red and muttered under their breath, “What’s there to be so smug about? Acting so arrogan, who knows how long his popularity will last.”

Zhong Su, however, remained quite calm. His chopsticks never paused as he picked up food, his attention entirely focused on eating. To him, Zhou Kaiwen was less valuable than a single leaf of vegetable.

Seeing Zhong Su ignore his taunts, Zhou Kaiwen grew even more resentful and was about to continue his outburst when a voice suddenly came from behind him.

“Zhong.”

The voice was enunciated softly and slowly, carrying a peculiar rhythm that lightly wrapped around the eardrums like spider silk.