"Chen's Directing-and-Screenwriting Principles"

Article Nine of Chen's Directing-and-Screenwriting Principles—

The key to creating and developing a plot lay in establishing conflict. If the story's inherent sense of conflict was weak or not compelling enough, then create a "misunderstanding" to drive the plot forward.

Several principles Chen Ling had secretly compiled during his previous life as a director and screenwriter flashed through his mind, and a faint smile flickered in his eyes.

[Audience Expectation +3]

[Current Expectation Value: 32%]

The instant he saw those two lines flash across the soy milk, Chen Ling knew he had guessed right.

Uncle Zhao's expression visibly stiffened.

He stared at Chen Ling in astonishment. First he was bewildered, then shocked, and finally he sank into deathly silence...

"Uncle Zhao, I promised Xiao Yi I'd keep it secret for him... But he's your only son. You must be hoping he'll carry on the family line... And he keeps hanging around with another boy. It really will affect his studies."

Chen Ling sighed. "I even saw him sitting on the back of that boy's bike today, smiling like he couldn't have been happier..."

Uncle Zhao's body began to tremble slightly. His hands clenched into fists, and his breathing grew heavier and heavier.

"Fine... I understand." Uncle Zhao forced a smile onto his face, one that looked rather terrifying. "Thanks, A-Ling."

"Oh, right, Uncle. I promised Xiao Yi I'd keep this secret, so you absolutely can't tell him I was the one who told you..."

"Don't worry. I know."

After finishing the last mouthful of soy milk, Chen Ling said goodbye to Uncle Zhao and left the shop.

Yet Uncle Zhao seemed not to have heard him. He kept his head down as he searched around the room. A few minutes later, he pulled out a club as thick as a fist from a corner and slowly sat down on the bench outside the shop.

A gust of cold wind swept down the street, stirring Uncle Zhao's few remaining strands of hair and the sweat-soaked towel wrapped around his forehead.

He sat there quietly, propping himself up with the club in one hand. His bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at the end of the street, making him look exactly like a great general brimming with murderous intent!

Chen Ling appeared to have left the street, but he had actually circled back through an alley. Standing in the shade of a tree at the corner, he could see the entire shop clearly.

A few minutes later, a tricycle came wobbling over from the end of the road.

Zhao Yi sat by the side of the vehicle with one leg crossed over the other. The two buckets of salt behind him had already been scattered clean. He toyed with the copper coins he had just earned, grinning so widely that the corners of his mouth nearly reached his ears.

"Heh, making money isn't that hard after all."

"Brother Yi, of course it isn't hard for you! I'm the one who spent all day pedaling!" The boy in front stood up and pedaled the tricycle with all his strength, panting as he spoke.

"We're brothers. Why bother making distinctions between yours and mine?"

Zhao Yi took out two copper coins and stuffed them into the boy's pocket. "Here. This is yours."

Not far away, Uncle Zhao's eyelid twitched when he saw Zhao Yi take the initiative to touch the boy's waist.

"Brother Yi, I pedaled for you all day, and you're only giving me two coins?" The boy's eyes widened. "Didn't you get twenty from the Road Management Bureau?!"

"Pedaling is physical work. Spreading salt is skilled work. Naturally, I get the bigger share."

Zhao Yi answered lazily, then leaped off the tricycle. Squinting with a smile, he waved at the boy. "I'll wait for you at the usual spot tomorrow... If you dare not show up, I'll beat you every time I see you. Got it?"

With that, he clenched the remaining eighteen copper coins in his hand and strode proudly toward his family shop.

The boy who had been pedaling glared at him furiously, but when Zhao Yi shot him a vicious glare in return, he immediately lost his nerve. He could only lower his head in dejection, keep pedaling, and head home alone.

Zhao Yi, Frost Street's young bully, was someone almost no one among the younger generation dared provoke. The boy had been exploited for an entire day, yet he could only swallow his resentment.

"Dad, I'm back!!"

Zhao Yi strode forward with eighteen copper coins in hand. He had never come home with such confidence before.

Yet for some reason, the moment he reached the shop entrance, a chill washed over him.

The figure holding the wooden club slowly rose to his feet. The atmosphere instantly dropped to freezing point. Uncle Zhao's furious eyes locked onto Zhao Yi as he advanced menacingly, like a general wielding a spear.

"D-Dad?" Seeing the club, Zhao Yi instinctively took a step back.

"It was him, wasn't it?" Uncle Zhao pointed at the boy pedaling away with one hand, his other hand shaking with rage. "You little bastard! Instead of studying properly, you've been sneaking around doing this behind my back?!"

"It would be one thing if you were seriously dating some girl, but you had to go find a man?"

"Can a man bear you children?! Can he carry on the Zhao family line?!"

"Are you trying to end your father's bloodline?!"

Uncle Zhao cursed as he wildly chased Zhao Yi down with the club, while Zhao Yi howled in pain from the blows.

Hearing Uncle Zhao's furious shouting, the neighbors along half the street all pricked up their ears.

Curiously, they gathered nearby and began pointing at Zhao Yi as he was chased around. No one knew what they said to one another, but looks of shock appeared on all their faces.

[Audience Expectation +1... +1... +1...]

As Zhao Yi was beaten until he howled, the numbers before Chen Ling's eyes began to jump without pause.

If he could enter the Theater in his mind again, he would see those densely packed black silhouettes—the Audience—watching this scene with great interest, subtle smiles on their lips.

"The conflict is right... but there still aren't enough characters on stage." Chen Ling's gaze fell on the tricycle in the distance.

"Xiao Liu."

Hearing Chen Ling call him, the boy who was blankly watching the spectacle turned around.

"Brother A-Ling, you're here too?"

"You went out to melt snow today. How much did Xiao Yi give you?"

"...Two coins." At the mention of this, resentment appeared on the boy's face. "He went back on his word. He said I'd pedal and he'd give me the larger share after we made money, but he only gave me this much. He even threatened to make me keep working for him tomorrow..."

"Do you want to get revenge on him?" Chen Ling looked into his eyes. "Or rather, do you want him to never dare bully you again, to the point where he'd even take a detour whenever he saw you?"

"Yes!!"

"Then I'll teach you..."

While the two whispered to each other, Zhao Yi had already been chased to the point of utter exhaustion.

"Dad, Dad, stop hitting me! I'm really not gay!" Zhao Yi finally realized what was happening and desperately tried to explain. "I swear, Zhao Yi has always only liked women! Especially the curvy, mature kind..."

The mouths of the onlookers opened slightly as they pondered his words.

Uncle Zhao froze, and his footsteps immediately slowed.

"Then what exactly is your relationship with that boy who pedals the tricycle?"

"We're just ordinary friends!"

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Of course it's tru—"

"Brother Xiao Yi!" A boy shoved through the crowd and charged madly toward Zhao Yi. He threw his arms around Zhao Yi's body and used his back to block the wooden club for him.

Zhao Yi froze.

Uncle Zhao froze as well.

"You..." Zhao Yi felt as if his mind had gone completely blank.

Before Zhao Yi could speak, the boy, his eyes red, shouted at Uncle Zhao:

"If you want to hit someone, hit me! Don't you dare hit my Brother Xiao Yi!!!"

The atmosphere abruptly fell into dead silence!

[Audience Expectation +2... +2... +2... +2...]