Chapter 361: Action!

According to Yang Huai xi, this man surnamed Jiang has some background; he was invited by Yang Yi to the production crew, and whether he's filming or delivering boxed meals, he's no ordinary person. I've long heard that many crew members can both do their own professional tasks and handle sudden situations like fires and explosions—they're all top‑notch people.

And Teacher Jiang's job on the set is to hang the film onto the camera for shooting; after filming, he studies the actions on the film, cuts out the unsatisfactory parts, and then stitches the satisfactory segments together to show everyone.

During filming, according to Yang Huai xi, Teacher Jiang once called "cut" while an actor was performing, because he needed to change the film. Another time, during a scene where an actor was fighting and successfully killing a spy, he called "cut" again, saying he hadn't seen the actor's knife clearly and wanted the actor to kill the "spy" once more.

The actor and the blood‑soaked spy lying on the ground both silently shed tears.

So later some actors, before performing, would ask him, "Teacher Jiang, have you loaded enough film?" or "Could you move the camera a bit so I can be seen clearly?"

But this person has his own ideas, and others find it hard to change his decisions; of course, if it's a big‑name actor, he won't call "cut", he'll just cooperate, whereas for a small actor—sorry, you still have to listen to Teacher Jiang.

Zheng Tan walked up to Teacher Jiang and looked at him. He wanted to gauge the man's temperament and his opinions of Luo Na De and himself, lest the teacher calls "cut" at an inopportune moment. That would be troublesome.

The person fiddling with the camera noticed Zheng Tan's gaze, turned his head, and, upon seeing the cat that Boss Yang had mentioned, was puzzled. What is this cat up to? Could it be, like the other actors, trying to make connections before the shoot?

Thinking that, Teacher Jiang laughed and shook his head at his own thought, then turned back to keep fiddling with the camera. After a while, he noticed the cat still beside him, apparently watching his camera work with interest.

"Can you understand?" Teacher Jiang turned, facing the cat's direction, glanced at the "z" cat tag on the black cat's neck. "It's z, right? It's not your turn yet, go back to sleep."

He paused, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of half‑eaten biscuits. He crouched and offered them toward the black cat. The cat gave a picky glance and then turned away.

"Hey, is it being picky?" Teacher Jiang said to the people nearby, "That look it gave just now was picky, right?"

"…Seems like it."

Seeing Yang Yi walk over, Teacher Jiang told him what had just happened.

Yang Yi glanced at the departing black cat, smiled, and asked Teacher Jiang, "What do you think of that cat?"

"Not bad, fits this film."

Zheng Tan walked away, but kept his ears perked, listening for any sounds. After hearing Teacher Jiang and Yang Yi's conversation, Zheng Tan relaxed; the man doesn't dislike cats, his assessment of him was fine, and with Yang Yi's influence, he likely won't "cut" his own scene. As for Luo Na De, the Jiang‑surname man didn't mention him, so his opinion remains unknown for now.

A one‑and‑a‑half‑hour film, over a hundred scenes, hundreds to thousands of shots, some already filmed.

The order of scenes isn't sequential; Yang Yi and Kong Han have their own schedule.

Since filming began, Zheng Tan has observed the two protagonists' parts, as well as those of Luo Na De, Tao Qi, Xue Ding and others; aside from initial nerves and a bit of maladjustment, everyone has been fine in the following days, and Kong Han hasn't shown a sour face.

Zheng Tan doesn't particularly like Luo Na De, but his acting is actually passable; perhaps because he naturally portrays a somewhat arrogant, spoiled‑rich heir, his performance is fairly good.

The current scene being shot involves the male lead, female lead, and Xue Ding; as the male lead's neighbor, Xue Ding's supporting role isn't small.

Zheng Tan crouched beside Yang Yi, listening to Yang Yi's low‑voice chat with Old Wang. No one else was around, so their whispers wouldn't be overheard.

"That supporting actor is good; he isn't eclipsed by the two leads, nor does he steal scenes, and his acting is decent," Old Wang said. He didn't use a lot of technical jargon, just a simple comment.

Wei Wen and Shi Xiao Tian have the talent, plus professional education and training, and acting experience, so their abilities are unquestioned; without that, Kong Han wouldn't cast them as leads. Surprisingly, Xue Ding, who is usually inconspicuous, also earned high praise from Kong Han and Old Wang. What Old Wang calls "decent" is already a high rating.

"A newly recruited one, from the background actors," Yang Yi said. Though it wasn't obvious on the surface, his tone indicated he was fairly satisfied with Xue Ding's performance.

The reason Hollywood films dominate worldwide is partly the actors. They not only have an international star roster, but also tens of thousands of contracted professional and semi‑professional actors. The pedestrians on streets, soldiers in battles, beachgoers, and diners in restaurants seen in Hollywood movies are almost all played by these professionals, not random extras. Even those who specialize in crowd work there earn a middle‑class income. This vast, high‑quality pool of crowd actors is a key component of Hollywood's acting power.

Similarly, domestic films also have a crowd‑actor pool exceeding one hundred thousand people—the group often referred to as "Beipiao" or "Hengpiao." However, the skill level of Chinese crowd actors is generally poor, and most lack formal training; most lack basic acting qualities and serve as literal props on set. Most never catch the eye of professionals, though a few, through long‑term practice, acquire solid performance skills, delivering pleasant surprises—like Xue Ding.

Back when he was abroad, Yang Yi specifically studied their film productions; after returning, he visited several sets to observe the crowd actors, and Xue Ding was the one he discovered then. He kept watching for a while before finally signing him.

Yang Yi is a person who loves scouting talent.

"Veteran performing artists once said that on stage there are only small actors, not small roles; even a single line must be performed with three‑point presence. Even when playing a supporting part or an extra, the effort and passion should match that of a lead," Yang Yi said. "Once I noticed a kid who, to play a background police officer, practiced the gun‑drawing motion hundreds of times."

Yang Yi was drawn to Xue Ding's earnestness.

Every year there are so many actors; most have undergone systematic training, even if they're professionals, but after a few years, some become famous, some remain obscure, some have superb acting, and some are just filling the ranks.

One's character and ability don't always correlate, nor do fame and talent.

"Have you heard a certain saying?" Yang Yi asked.

"What?"

"A fool can't practice foolish kung‑fu. Foolish kung‑fu is something only the clever can do."

Old Wang smiled without replying. He was widely regarded as a poor student back then, but now, looking at those former classmates—the once‑ambitious peers—many are still toiling day and night for a house.

Zheng Tan stood nearby, deep in thought.

Another week passed, and finally it was Zheng Tan's turn.

Since the day before, Charlie had been even more nervous than Zheng Tan, which made Yang Yi laugh.

Of course, many might think a cat can't be nervous or aware of what's coming; the nervous one is naturally Charlie, which makes sense, and everyone understood when they saw the cat.

Charlie wanted to cry but had no tears.

After arriving at the set, Charlie once again briefed Zheng Tan on today's part.

After a scene with Wei Wen and Shi Xiao Tian, there was a short break, and Zheng Tan's scene began.

Charlie clutched the script, his palms sweaty, the pages already creased.

The surrounding people craned their necks to watch; the actors who had just finished the previous scene hadn't left. It was their first time sharing the stage with a cat, which felt novel, and even Yang Huai xi unusually didn't go to brief Tao Qi and Xue Ding on their roles and lines, instead staring here.

Where's the cat food? Where is it?

Don't you prepare food when shooting a pet film? The crowd wondered.

Old Wang, with Mika, watched up close for once, full of anticipation.

After receiving Charlie's "ok" look, Kong Han signaled everyone to take positions.

action!

After a few seconds, nothing moved.

The lump protruding on the bed seemed truly asleep.

The people around were also puzzled. Should they use cat food to lure it?

Charlie and the others were impatient; Hei Tan hadn't acted like this before—once he shouted 'start,' it began. Could he not understand 'action'? That didn't fit; Xiao Guo sometimes says 'action' too, even in documentaries, sometimes just 'a', and the cat usually cooperates. What's up today?

Luo Na De let out a snort as if watching a good show, was tugged on the sleeve by the nearby manager, pursed his lips, and was unimpressed.

Kong Han frowned, then looked at Charlie beside him.

Charlie, drenched in sweat, saw that Zheng Tan didn't cooperate after Director Kong shouted "action," and with Kong Han watching, his heart raced; he couldn't worry about much else and said, "z, start!"

There, finally, it moved.

In a somewhat messy room, on a small bed, near the pillow, from under the thin blanket poked out a little bit of fluffy, pointed black ears.

The alarm clock rang.

The small bulge on the bed shifted; the black inverted-triangle nose tip poked out from under the thin blanket, and, likely due to discomfort, a few long whiskers twitched twice.

His mouth opened, he yawned, revealing the white fangs inside.

In his wide-open mouth from the yawn, the tongue covered in barbs was clearly not human.

His half-open eyes still held some sleepy haze; he slightly lifted his head toward the window, and as light streamed in, his pupils contracted from oval to narrow slits, like those of predators waking in the jungle.

……

This scene, from getting up to discovering discomfort, then to standing before the full-length mirror, was filmed no fewer than ten times, shot in separate takes; there was also a segment of walking upright, which was also filmed in several takes. It wasn't that Zheng Tan couldn't act it, but he didn't dare to continue directly, lest he be taken for a monster. So Zheng Tan pretended to be foolish, acting a bit then stopping or not following the script, and Kong Han would naturally call cut.

What Zheng Tan didn't know was that, in Kong Han's and many people's view, this was already quite trouble-free; after filming this scene, the people around kept praising it nonstop, making Zheng Tan's face flush.

Really…… too embarrassing. (To be continued...)