APR 34

Da Xiong had just finished saying “someone’s coming” when Zhong Su also looked over, frowning slightly. To his surprise, a familiar face emerged from the edge of the lawn. It was actually Xiao Lao Dao’s uncle whom he’d met earlier on set.

Jiang Xun had meticulously groomed himself, dressed in formal attire. His previously greasy, matted hair was now washed clean and slicked back with what seemed like countless jars of hair gel, giving him a rather presentable appearance.

He jogged over with an ingratiating smile plastered across his face, eagerly extending his hand toward Chen Huan. “Mr. Chen! I’m Jiang Xun, who had the honor of meeting you half a month ago. When I received the message from your secretary yesterday saying we could discuss cooperation, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep all night. I immediately revised the ‘Sailing the Righteous Sea’ script, adding over ten thousand words. I guarantee with my reputation that this script won’t disappoint you when filmed.”

Halfway through his speech, Jiang Xun caught sight of Zhong Su behind them and his voice suddenly shot up an octave, exclaiming with delight, “It’s you, ‘Lin Wenhan’!”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Why aren’t you registered with the Actors Association? I practically wore out their records searching, never expecting to see you before filming starts!”

“Are you still taking roles? There’s a new project that absolutely must have you, we can discuss the salary.” His eyes gleaming, he grabbed Zhong Su’s hand firmly, ignoring everyone else’s gazes as he enthusiastically rambled on about the new project.

“Talk if you want, but get your hands off me!” Zhong Su mercilessly slapped his hand away. “And my name is Zhong Su. If you can’t remember names, don’t shout random ones.”

Jiang Xun was momentarily stunned by this cold response. As a genius director, he detested arrogant actors the most.

But facing an actor who seemed tailor-made for his passion project, he could only reluctantly suppress his temper and immediately forced another smile. “Alright, alright, Zhong Su, whatever you’re called. Anyway, the character ‘Lin Wenhan’ in my script was practically designed with you in mind—”

Zhong Su had no interest in listening and directly refused: “I’ve already told you, I don’t do adult films.”

“It’s not an adult film!” Jiang Xun couldn’t tolerate such slander, nearly jumping up in agitation. “Just hear me out—this time it’s not some low-class production. ‘Sailing the Righteous Sea’ is a proper theatrical release! The supporting male character ‘Lin Wenhan’ is aloof, restrained, and handsome enough! I’ve been writing this script for five years, just waiting for a face like yours.”

Jiang Xun had artistic aspirations in his directing career. Although he usually made quick money shooting erotic films for companies, that was never his true ambition. He’d always dreamed of making his own masterpiece.

Now that he’d finally encountered a major investor willing to pour money into it, gathered enough funding to start the production team, and found the perfect actor, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away no matter what.

Chen Huan wiped the blood droplet from his fingertip, watching as Zhong Su impatiently pushed away the persistent Jiang Xun. His tone was calm yet brooked no argument: “Accept the role.”

“?” Zhong Su thought he’d misheard, looking at Chen Huan and asking, “What do you mean by that?”

By now, Chen Huan had reined in his earlier exposed emotions. Leaning against the shooting platform with his arms crossed, he gave Zhong Su a faint glance: “I won’t give you the bracelet. But aside from that, since you claim to be Su Er’s lover, I’m giving you a chance to repay the debt.”

He paused for a long moment before saying, “Fine, you don’t want this opportunity. Just remember one thing, you and that foolish friend of yours couldn’t cover my car’s repair costs even if you sold your blood and kidneys.”

Zhong Su: “Are you serious?”

“You can test whether I’m telling the truth. I don’t mind.” When Chen Huan showed no expression, it was actually when he spoke most seriously.

“I’ve seen plenty of people pretending to have connections with Su Er, throwing themselves at me for benefits. You’re the only one in recent years who actually looks somewhat convincing.” He tilted his head, his Adam’s apple moving as the thorn tattoos on his neck seemed to come alive, piercing deep into his skin. “Since you’re someone he left behind, I won’t touch you for now.”

Seeing Chen Huan like this, Zhong Su opened his mouth but ultimately didn’t say another word. He had already decided to leave Yangang—there was really no need to create additional complications.

Moreover, considering that accepting this acting role would provide more opportunities to interact with Chen Huan and facilitate retrieving his own ashes, there was no downside.

Zhong Su decided to agree, uttering a single word: “Fine.”

Jiang Xun got what he wanted, his face blooming into a smile. “That’s more like it. Ten parts effort can’t compare to one part right choice. Pick the right path, and your future will be bright, newcomer.”

With both investment and actor secured, he didn’t dare disturb Chen Huan for too long, fearing to annoy him. After leaving the latest version of the script and offering some flattery—”Mr. Chen truly has an eye for talent”—he left happily.

Before departing, he turned back and made a “call me” gesture to Zhong Su, specifically reminding him: “Oh, and remember to tell that damn Zheng Leyou to take me off his blacklist. Once the contract is drafted, we’ll sign and make this official.”

Zhong Su watched Jiang Xun skip away merrily before turning his gaze back to Chen Huan.

The handsome man had clearly already dismissed his existence, loading bullets into the magazine with complete disregard for others, then raising the gun, aiming, and shooting at the target.

Just as Zhong Su was about to speak, Chen Huan tossed back a careless remark without turning around: “Why are you still here? Waiting for me to personally escort you out?”

Zhong Su straightened his collar that had been tugged askew earlier and, without a word, turned and left.

He hadn’t gone more than a few steps when he heard continuous, violent gunshots from behind, deafening reports that seemed to tear through the very air.

Early the next morning, Jiang Xun dragged Xiao Lao Dao by the ear to Zhong Su’s doorstep, terrified that Zhong Su might suddenly change his mind and back out.

Zhong Su pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and looked at the thick movie script on the table alongside the freshly printed contract with ink still wet. He had a temper upon waking, but at this moment, beyond irritation, he felt more astonished by Jiang Xun’s efficiency.

Zhong Su: “It’s not like I’m going to run away. Is there really such a hurry?Jiang Xun acted completely familiar, naturally sitting on the sofa as if it were natural. “We agreed to sign the contract yesterday, so there’s no point in letting the night grow long with dreams.”

He adjusted his glasses, his expression extremely urgent. “First look over the contract terms, and I’ll take this opportunity to explain the script to you…”

Xiao Lao Dao stood to the side, whispering a reminder: “Zhong Su, don’t listen to my uncle’s rambling! Talk about money first! The acting fee! Ai ya—” Before he could finish, the back of his head received a slap from Jiang Xun.

Jiang Xun tapped his forehead while scolding him: “You and your big mouth! Always undermining me and sabotaging my efforts all day long. So concerned about outsiders, should I award you the ‘Best Useless Brat’ prize?”

“Uncle, if you keep hitting me, I’ll really turn into an idiot,” Xiao Lao Dao yelped in pain while covering his head with his hands. “I won’t say anything anymore, nothing at all. Is that acceptable?”

But though his words sounded submissive, he kept winking vigorously at Zhong Su and made a cheeky money-counting gesture.

He was genuinely happy for his unlucky buddy, who would have thought that a failed audition would bring such great fortune? Not to mention his uncle had promised him a generous red envelope according to industry standards once the collaboration was finalized.

Perfect—his brother would earn money, and he’d get his cut too. Xiao Lao Dao felt as sweet as if he’d drunk syrup.

Ahem. Jiang Xun cleared his throat theatrically and turned to Zhong Su: “For this film, you only need to play a supporting role with limited screen time. Mainly…”

“Director Jiang, no need to trouble yourself. I’ll read the script,” Zhong Su interrupted Jiang Xun’s explanation. Instead of taking the contract, he directly opened the script to examine it carefully.

After being burned by Xiao Lao Dao before, he didn’t trust a single word following anyone’s “you only need to play…” promises anymore.

Zhong Su skimmed through the script rapidly, gaining a general understanding of the film Righteous Sea Voyage. The story followed a naive youth enamored with martial brotherhood who accidentally joins a gang, rises through the ranks by seizing opportunities, ultimately becoming the gang’s leader, yet still meets a tragic end—a rather cliché plot. The only standout feature was probably the well-rounded characterizations, with each role possessing their own contradictions and struggles.

The supporting character Zhong Su would play, “Lin Wenhan,” was a morally ambiguous gang executive who becomes a police informant to clean up his record, continuously leaking the gang’s confidential information.

Eventually, his mole identity is discovered by the protagonist, and the gang… sends someone to eliminate him. He makes a hasty exit near the film’s conclusion.

Closing the script, Zhong Su rubbed its cover, somewhat understanding why Jiang Xun was so insistent on casting him for this role.

He and this character shared remarkable similarities. Whether it was their predicaments, their stubborn refusal to turn back once a decision was made, or their struggles to return to the right path, they were identical.

Perhaps Jiang Xun had keenly detected these qualities, hence his strong desire to sign him.

Seeing Zhong Su set down the script, Jiang Xun leaned forward eagerly, almost lunging across the table: “Finished reading? How do you feel? Incredibly inspired? Really want to play the part? Think my writing is absolutely brilliant?”

“The script is fine, but the compensation—”

Zhong Su barely started speaking before Jiang Xun cut him off, complaining irritably: “Your pay is already the best terms I fought for! Definitely not shortchanging you.”

“I’m not asking for more money,” Zhong Su shook his head. “I have no issue with the amount, but I need at least half the payment before filming begins. Otherwise, I won’t do it.”

Jiang Xun was stunned: “Wh-what half? You’ll get 30% upon signing! Few newcomers get such treatment. Isn’t that enough?”

Zhong Su had no interest in bargaining with Jiang Xun. The terms were already laid out, whether to accept them was the other party’s decision.

He pushed the script back onto the table, his stance unmistakably clear.

“Ah, you’re being like this again…” Seeing Zhong Su remain unyielding, Jiang Xun gritted his teeth and said, “Fine! You sign first, and the money will be transferred to your account in five days.”

Having gotten what he wanted, Zhong Su didn’t hesitate and signed his name in the blank space of the contract.

Jiang Xun let out a long sigh of relief, clutching the contract to his chest as if it were a treasure. Negotiating with this newcomer was more exhausting than shooting an entire film.

With the contract signed, the rest was straightforward. Both parties confirmed the filming schedule and other production details, settling the matter for good.