Looking at his nonchalant attitude, Song Shi'an said, "Call me 'Dad,' and I'll take you upstairs."
He Zeyu completely ignored the first three words, his eyes lighting up. "How do I take it!"
Song Shi'an was speechless. He really should have left him here to dry in the sun; that would have made him behave.
He turned around, squatted down with his back to He Zeyu, and said, "Get on."
He Zeyu looked at the back in front of him and hesitated. "Forget it..." He was a grown man, and if word got out that he had to be carried up the mountain by someone else, how could he continue to work in the entertainment industry?
Song Shi'an was too lazy to waste words with him. He stood up and hoisted the man up like a sack, taking two steps at a time.
He Zeyu's stomach churned violently, and his vision suddenly spun, changing from the steps to the mountain path behind him. Holy crap, this is amazing!
He was now 100% certain that Song Shi'an could really trek across the rainforest, the only question was whether he could be put down; he felt like throwing up...
Lin Fan climbed a few steps and then looked back twice, wondering why his brother hadn't come up yet.
He stood on tiptoe and looked down the mountain, then saw his brother carrying a human-shaped object rapidly approaching. Lin Fan's eyes widened in disbelief.
The paparazzi, who were waiting on the mountainside, were looking for the right angle when a blurry shadow whizzed past their lens.
He put down his camera and rubbed his eyes. What had happened? He looked down at the burst of photos on his camera and fell silent.
Song Shi'an caught up with the main group and threw the person on his shoulder to the ground.
The assistant director opened his mouth. "You..."
Before he could finish speaking, He Zeyu raised his head, which had been hanging upside down, and gave the director an awkward smile, "Hello, director."
Song Shi'an waved his hand dismissively. "The rest of you can climb on your own."
He Zeyu rubbed his stomach, which was still feeling dizzy from the jolting. "Oh..."
The assistant director gave He Zeyu a thumbs up and said earnestly, "Teacher He, you still need to practice."
Damn, he felt discriminated against by the entire crew.
Having finally made it to the top of the mountain, Song Shi'an looked around.
The bluestone-paved plaza stretches from our feet to the distant cliff edge, the white jade railings are engraved with intricate fairy patterns, and the eaves of the main hall are faintly visible in the clouds.
Is this the real-life set that cost hundreds of millions to build? It's awesome!
He took out his phone and took several photos to send to Mother Song. He scrolled through the album: the sunset on the cliff, the stone bench under the ancient tree, and the distant peaks shrouded in mist.
Without exception, everything was scenery. He sighed, realizing he'd reached the age where he needed to photograph flowers, grass, and landscapes.
We took photos of all the night views that night, and changed into about ten outfits. Song Shi'an was almost exhausted.
The director ran over with a smile, "Teacher Song, get some rest early tonight. Tomorrow's the last scene, let's finish this quickly."
"Okay, thank you, Director." Song Shi'an smiled politely.
I took a shower in the makeshift room, lay on the bed, and sighed.
I picked up my phone and glanced at the time; it was already past one o'clock. A full moon hung above the cliff outside the window, and its cool light shone through the window onto the bedside.
No wonder they rushed to film the night scene tonight; the full moon happens to coincide with the day Si Qinglan's dragon marrow pain flares up, making him look like he's mutated...
He calculated the time and realized that he would be going back during finals week, after which he would buy a ticket home.
That wasn't really his home; he was just a thief, and he felt a little melancholy.
With a tick, a message popped up from Mother Song: "Filming must be tiring. You should be back in a few days. Mom has raised a few hens; I'll make you some to eat when you get back."
Song Shi'an typed with a smile, "Mom, why are you still up so late?"
It took a while for them to reply, "Your dad is looking at furniture and asking me which pieces look good. I can't decide either. You've been busy filming lately, so I haven't dared to ask you."
"You two can decide." Song Shi'an rolled over and transferred another 100,000 yuan to his Mother Song's card. "We'll talk about it if it's not enough. I'm going to sleep now, Mom. I have to get up early tomorrow."
Mother Song wanted to say something more to her son, but seeing the message he sent, she knew he was tired.
Father Song was flipping through a furniture store brochure when he heard the noise and looked up. "Chatting with your son?"
Mother Song nodded. "He just transferred another 100,000 yuan over. He's asleep now. This child works hard to earn money, what's the point of always transferring it to us?"
"My son's grown up now, he has his own ideas." Father Song sighed, turning to the next page of the brochure. "Keep this for him, it might come in handy sometime."
Having not slept well all night, Song Shi'an ate breakfast with his eyes half-closed.
The makeup artist applied foundation to his face while muttering, "Teacher Song, you didn't sleep well last night, did you? The conditions on the mountain are a bit basic, but if everything goes smoothly, we should wrap up filming today."
He Zeyu strolled over with a cup of coffee, glanced down at him, and said, "Hey, stayed up late last night? You don't look well. Want a coffee? Freshly brewed."
Song Shi'an held out his hand. "Thanks, no need, I have some." He then took out a packet of instant coffee from his bag, tore it open, poured it into a cup, picked up a thermos, poured in hot water, stirred it with chopsticks, and when it was almost cool, he picked it up and chugged it down in one gulp.
Oh my god, this is so bitter! I should have known better than to pretend. Freshly ground food is no big deal! I should have just left it there yesterday!!!
He Zeyu's smile vanished; he'd been wanting to show off his hand-grind coffee machine...
A production assistant jogged over and called out, "All the extras are here! We're about to start filming!"
As Song Shi'an walked, he straightened his clothes. As soon as he stepped out, he saw that the hall was full of people, and the entire square was packed with them.
Wow, it's not easy for these extras to earn money. They have to climb mountains, and it takes them more than two hours just to get here.
The wire harness installer secured Song Shi'an with the wires and checked each buckle twice.
The director, speaking to Tetsuya, said, "You need to portray that feeling of someone who spouts righteousness but does nothing right, making the audience grit their teeth in hatred. But don't overdo it. We've been talking about blocking for ages; don't mess it up later!"
With everything ready, the director turned to Song Shi'an: "Teacher Song, for the fight scenes later, just make sure they look cool. Make the gestures as stylish as possible!"
Song Shi'an nodded. No problem. He had been browsing a lot of hand seals for cultivation techniques online lately, focusing on speed, ruthlessness, and coolness.
The pattern making officially begins.
The leaders of the eight major sects stood in the square in front of the hall, with a dense crowd of disciples from each sect standing behind them.
The leader, his voice booming like thunder, transmitted his message across the distance. "Summon your sect leader! How dare these demonic cultists establish their own sect!"
The gatekeeper disciple stood with his sword drawn, shouting, "Stop talking nonsense! How dare you insult the Immortal Venerable!"
"They recruit disciples widely, collecting children with spiritual roots from all over to provide for the cultivation of these monstrous talents, and yet they claim they're not a demonic sect! Today, we're here to act on behalf of Heaven!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a spell pierced through the air, striking directly at the gatekeeper disciple.
The gatekeeper had no time to block it, and the light was silently extinguished in mid-air, leaving only a wisp of slowly dissipating blue light in the air.
"For whom do you uphold justice?"
The voice came from deep within the mountain gate, clear and distant.