Salted Fish Gets More Screen Time

Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Six

The last time Yun Xianhe released Li Wenchuan's audition scene, some people were convinced, while others remained completely unconvinced.

"That was just one decent scene. How can you guarantee it wasn't a fluke?"

"He hasn't acted since Lighting the Lantern. Is he supposed to bring that absurd variety-show style into acting?"

"It's just a world that judges faces. Aren't there plenty of actors like that?"

Some people went on and on, criticizing Li Wenchuan until he was worthless. From every angle, they concluded that this man had nothing but his face.

"But with that face, what else do I need?"

"+1, same here."

They popped up online from time to time, and just as Ode of Mountains and Rivers announced the start of filming, the discussions exploded.

Then, before anyone knew it, public opinion suddenly shifted.

"Holy shit... an immortal."

"Can I print this out and hang it in my house?"

"Fuck, 'fuck' is the only word that can express how I feel."

The haters swarmed into the discussion threads and saw that the official Weibo for Ode of Mountains and Rivers had posted a nine-photo grid dedicated to Li Wenchuan, captioned: "Holding a white luan feather, he sweeps the southern mountain clouds by night. Deer drink beneath cold ravines; fish return to the clear sea shore."

The entire Weibo post was overflowing with ethereal charm.

The man's brows and temples seemed exquisitely crafted, an artwork meticulously sculpted by heaven itself. He merely glanced your way, yet it felt as though the whole world came rushing toward you.

The God Venerable wore cold, immaculate white robes. His eyes held ten thousand years of loneliness and solitude; the heights were too cold to bear.

"Ahhh, that temperament—he looks like he was cut straight out of the book."