Might as Well Change the Script

Whenever the Magic Book had a blank page, Shen Qi recorded Liu Tao, Pan Yueming, and Chen Zihan's performances to replenish his stock.

He had to keep things sustainable.

Chen Zihan's acting was decent, but her costume was hard on the eyes:

A single layer of sheer gauze covered her shoulders.

Her slim waist and thighs were completely exposed.

If you knew she was on a film set, fine. If you didn't, you might think she was at a nightclub!

From Bai Ling fighting in little red shorts in Strange Tales of the Martial World to Princess An Ning showing off her thighs in The Mischievous Princess, the film and television industry was far too obsessed with close-ups of actresses' legs.

Then again, Chen Zihan really did have an impressive figure.

She and Liu Tao had even formed a little team dedicated to feeding Shen Qi. Sometimes the three of them ate together in the production van with the air-conditioning on.

No matter how roomy the van was, space was limited, so the occasional brush or bump was unavoidable.

There was no doubt about it.

Whether Green Snake or White Snake, both were genuine temptresses!

Fortunately, Shen Qi kept a clear head.

He had entered show business precisely because he didn't want to sell his body.

Now that he could earn money in show business with his clothes on, he was even less likely to trade his body for favors.

How would that make him any different from a gigolo?

Once a gigolo, always a gigolo.

There was no turning back from that life!

His sense of boundaries actually helped Liu Tao and Chen Zihan relax around him. They even teased him now and then.

The two temptresses burst out laughing whenever they saw how flustered he looked.

In truth, if Shen Qi had made a move, they would have been the ones to back off.

They had their heads on straight, too.

Both their careers were on the rise. This was no time for romance.

Even if they wanted to satisfy their physical needs, they ought to find someone who could help them—or at least wouldn't cause trouble.

If they got intimate with an "extra" like Shen Qi, he might start clinging to them for roles and favors.

And giving him those things wouldn't necessarily make the relationship last.

If Shen Qi really was the sort to attach himself to people for opportunities, once he became famous, he would probably seek out someone more useful.

In show business, the worst thing you could do was lose your head over love.

Ding Jiali was a painful example.

So Shen Qi's relationship with Liu Tao and Chen Zihan was more like the easy friendship of people their own age, with the occasional harmless dirty joke at most.

Take the scene where Chen Zihan searched Shen Qi for a token.

She held a sword to his neck with one hand while the other roamed over his chest and stomach.

After the take, Chen Zihan exclaimed, "Tao, those muscles feel incredible!"

She even urged Liu Tao on. "You should try it too, Tao! Why don't we change the script? After Green Snake searches him, White Snake can have a turn. One of us is bound to find the token!"

The way she put it...

After Green Snake had her turn, White Snake could have hers. One of them was bound to end up pregnant.

Outrageous!

But Shen Qi didn't have any amorous thoughts at all.

Acting was all he could think about.

He was single-mindedly focused on making money.

Women would only slow his sword. He had no time to think about them!

That evening, while they were filming a night scene, Shen Qi completed another recording, and his Magic Book changed.

He opened the little book and counted.

It had gained a page of parchment!

There were now six pages in all, enough to store six performances.

The information on the inside cover had changed, too.

Name: Shen Qi

Born: March 4, 1981

Height: 186 cm

Weight: 75 kg

Occupation: Bit-part actor

Level: Sequence 9, beginner!

His occupation had advanced from "extra" to "bit-part actor," and his level had gone from "hopelessly bad" to "beginner."

He had risen to Sequence 9!

At least it counted as progress.

Shen Qi tried it out and found that recording the same person had become a little easier.

His success rate had improved.

When he used a recording, he grasped the performance techniques more deeply.

The feeling lasted longer, too.

What excited him most, though, was that the sixth page differed from the first five.

Each of the first five parchment pages had a watermark of the character for "performance" in its upper-right corner.

That meant they could only record performances.

But the new page bore a watermark meaning "all."

If he was right, this page could record not just performances, but other things as well.

Martial arts or horseback riding, for example.

Of course, a recording only reproduced a skill temporarily, and its effect faded fast. Winning an Olympic gold medal with it was a pipe dream, but it would be plenty good enough when he needed to learn something at the last minute.

The next day's fight scene gave Shen Qi the perfect chance to test it.

Fight scenes weren't just people swinging at random.

A fight choreographer designed the moves.

Legend of the White Snake had a total budget of twenty million yuan. For a thirty-episode series, that left plenty of money for production.

So the show had not only special effects but also a big name handling its fight choreography.

Yuen Bun!

He and Ching Siu-tung had worked on New Dragon Gate Inn and The East Is Red.

He had also independently choreographed works such as Once Upon a Time in China III.

On top of that, there were two assistant fight choreographers, Jing Bingjia and Lin Feng, and eight stunt performers on the action team.

It was an impressive lineup!

Yuen Bun designed the broad movements, then had the action team learn them.

The stunt performers kept practicing until he was satisfied.

He left the details of filming the sequence to the people under him.

While several stunt performers rehearsed on wires, Shen Qi secretly took out the Magic Book and began recording.

They were moving slowly through the sequence, so there was nothing particularly difficult about it.

He also had a little foundation in martial arts—PE teachers occasionally had to teach some basics.

He succeeded on the third try.

What a find!

Did that mean he could learn martial arts, singing, racing, and every other skill imaginable?

Stop. Stop right there.

His time and energy were limited. If he spread himself too thin, he would end up with nothing.

Since he had chosen to be an actor, he should focus on acting.

The "all-purpose page" could record performances, of course, but Shen Qi chose to experience the fight moves he had just recorded first.

For a moment, it was as if he had become the stunt performer suspended from the wires.

Through that experience, he understood the purpose and ingenuity behind the choreography much more deeply.

Things that had seemed hazy gradually came into focus.

Of course, understanding the moves was one thing. Executing them exactly as the action director wanted was another.

Lin Feng, who was overseeing his movements, watched him twist around on the wires like a pickled fish that had just flopped ashore. He had Shen Qi lowered and asked:

"Have you ever worked on wires before?"

"A few times as a stunt double, but it was just simple backward pulls. I've never done anything complicated."

Shen Qi ran a hand over his professional wire harness—black canvas lined with thick foam. It was far more comfortable than the battered gear he had used as a double.

"Steady your center of gravity as you're lifted. Get used to being in the air before you start moving."

Lin Feng patted his shoulder, speaking with the crisp directness of a veteran stuntman.

After more than a decade in the business, teaching a beginner these details came naturally to him.

"Got it!"

This sort of basic knowledge was exactly what Shen Qi lacked.

After a few more lifts, he combined Lin Feng's advice with what he had experienced through the Magic Book and soon met his requirements.

Unfortunately, he had so little wire work that filming wrapped before he'd had enough of it.

His acting contract had reserved five days, but filming actually took only three and a half.

Contracts usually allowed extra time in case something unexpected happened.

Once his scenes were done, the finance staff settled his pay on the spot and told him the one thousand yuan would be deposited into his bank account within three days.

One thousand yuan earned!

Shen Qi had spent only a few days filming Legend of the White Snake, but the experience meant far more to him than that.

It was his first real role.

A named character with lines!

That was a milestone.

After filming, he watched the lights sway around the set and felt a little lost.

With Legend of the White Snake on his résumé, Shen Qi had finally left the most basic stage of extra work behind and proudly become a bit-part actor.

It still sounded humble, but at least he had a production credit now.

In theory, better opportunities should have come his way.

Unfortunately, Legend of the White Snake hadn't aired yet. Who knew who he was?

So he faced the same difficulties he had before joining the production.

Even his room was politely taken back.

His contract covered only five days. They couldn't let him stay indefinitely unless he had some serious pull.

That afternoon, the day he finished filming, Shen Qi moved into a hostel.

A bed in an eight-person room cost twelve yuan a day, or a little less if he paid by the month.

Most people might have struggled with going from a substantial supporting villain role back to the lowest rung of extra work.

Shen Qi didn't.

The weight of his family rested on his shoulders—his father needed money for treatment, his younger sister needed money for high school, and even his mother, the family's main breadwinner, suffered from years of overwork.

Shen Qi couldn't afford to pass up any opportunity.

Make money!