Chapter 2: The Faces of the World

Without the slightest hesitation.

Li Luo seized the opportunity and dashed before the crowd, executing the Long Fist with precise, methodical movements.

His motions were clean and crisp.

Anyone with eyes could tell he had trained.

His tall, straight frame of one meter seventy-eight, combined with his broad, sweeping routines, made his performance exceptionally beautiful; every gesture sent dust swirling from his dirty costume in the sunlight, Zidaiwudatexiao .

The extras stared in stunned silence.

Some who knew him pinched their thighs hard, unable to believe what they were seeing.

If you’re in this line of work, you can’t fear performing in public.

If you’ve got talent, you’ve got to show it.

Only by demonstrating your value can you earn a chance.

Li Luo paid no mind to the eyes fixed on him; he focused entirely on executing the new skill he had just acquired, unaware that sweat dripped from his hair tips.

The assistant director was first startled, then nodded repeatedly as he watched.

Being able to fight is one thing.

But this kid is also good-looking enough.

He has a touch of the peak Bai Gu’s charm, though his straight nose adds a harder edge.

His focused eyes gleam with vitality.

Extremely eye-catching.

More than enough to play a flower-plucking thief.

“That’s it.”

The assistant director called stop to Li Luo and waved happily: “Hurry up and change clothes—once you’ve got your moves down, we start shooting.”

“By the way.”

He turned to the group leader: “Make sure someone smears some ash on his face.”

“No problem.”

The group leader bowed and smiled broadly.

“Thank you, director.”

Li Luo also wore a delighted expression, saying repeatedly: “Rest assured, I’ll give my all to perform well.”

“Lo Ge.”

“Awesome!”

“I bought you buns yesterday, Lo Ge—when are you teaching me a couple moves?”

The moment the assistant director left, the extras surged forward, their chaotic chatter like a boiling pot.

Half an hour ago.

They were still calling him “Little Li” or “Little Luo.”

Now they called him “Lo Ge.”

Life’s twists are truly strange.

Li Luo waved his hands cheerfully, putting on a shy, awkward demeanor.

These bastards.

Without a pole, they’d still find a way to climb up—anyone who knows him well knows he hates buns.

But this kind of thing? Just ignore it.

Better to stay calm; no need to make yourself disliked.

He didn’t want rumors of him turning his back on people to spread through Hengdian; some folks are terrible gossips, and besides, this was just a role with no lines—it meant nothing.

“Get lost.”

The group leader, who had just been bowing and scraping, now stepped forward forcefully: “Everyone, get ready—don’t cause trouble here.”

Once the crowd dispersed.

Yu Hong stared at Li Luo with a blank expression, his eyes unreadable.

They’d known each other for a while; this kid had never shown any skill in martial arts before. Now that Liu Er got injured, he suddenly appeared, fighting with boundless energy—Yu Hong couldn’t help but suspect something was off.

Facing Yu Hong’s scrutiny, Li Luo remained calm.

“Didn’t know you could fight.”

Yu Hong suddenly smiled warmly, clapping Li Luo on the arm familiarly: “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Did you think Brother Yu couldn’t get you a better job?”

The truth behind it? No need—and no interest—to dig deeper.

This martial skill.

Greatly increased Li Luo’s value.

Now’s the time to win him over; right and wrong are for children.

“Of course not.”

Li Luo scratched his head, offering a guileless smile: “I’ve just been practicing randomly from a cheap street book lately—I didn’t even know if I could show it off. I was worried I’d embarrass myself just now!”

“But luckily, I didn’t let Brother Yu down.”

That flattery.

Yu Hong clearly enjoyed it.

But time was tight; the fat group leader didn’t waste words, immediately ushering Li Luo toward the dressing area.

Li Luo swapped out his stinking, filthy extra’s costume.

He felt a wave of relief all over.

As the saying goes, clothes make the man—even though the new outfit was plain, his attractiveness rose several notches.

Remembering the assistant director’s words, Yu Hong quickly whispered to the makeup artist.

After his face was smeared haphazardly, Li Luo looked into the mirror at his dull, lifeless reflection and said nothing; stealing the spotlight from the lead is a cardinal sin—he understood that well.

Earlier, when Liu Er practiced his moves, Li Luo had stood nearby, assisting.

He knew exactly what he needed to do.

After going through the motions once, the director felt satisfied, and the crew—stalled for half an hour—finally resumed operations.

“Scene four, take five, one shot.”

The girl held up the clapperboard, extending it before the camera.

It recorded all the details.

For easier editing later.

“Clack.”

The board snapped shut with a crisp sound.

“Action.”

The director, watching the monitor, waved his arm listlessly.

He’d prepared to shoot it ten times over; luckily this was a TV series—if it were a film, he’d be heartbroken over the wasted film stock.

The moment he spoke, Li Luo’s scalp tingled as if electrified.

His spirit surged.

Two lives lived.

But never had he experienced this.

The entire crew—dozens of people—all stared at the center of the set; envy, jealousy, and other strange emotions waiting for him to fail surged like waves crashing against Li Luo.

Yet he felt no pressure—only excitement that made his fingers tremble.

“Kill!!!”

A shout rang out as several Beggar Sect disciples charged toward him.

Staves whistled down.

Lacking acting skill, he simply kept a blank face; Li Luo swung his arm effortlessly, snapping the staffs in half, wood chips flying everywhere.

His acting hadn’t even begun, yet at such a crucial moment.

No expression was the best expression.

His body merely shifted slightly.

The charging men cried out and tumbled backward.

Sweeping sleeve, bent knee.

With the help of the wires, he soared into the air, his figure flying gracefully toward the tree canopy several meters away, narrowly slicing through the thrusting swords.

In the blink of an eye.

Soon, the set fell utterly silent.

The fallen extras cautiously opened their eyes, glancing toward the director.

Unsure whether to get up.

“Cut. Good.”

The director scratched his head and crushed his cigarette underfoot.

“This kid.”

“He really pulled it off~”

The watching extras sighed in disappointment, murmuring to themselves.

He landed on the ground.

Li Luo felt a dryness in his mouth and throat.

His whole body felt light-headed, and a fine sweat broke out on his back.

He had been acting as an extra during that time.

He hadn’t felt much of anything.

This was the first time he had truly been watched by a camera; though the moment lasted only a few fleeting seconds, the continuous surge of adrenaline left him unable to let go.

Filming continued.

It turned out he was not a genius.

In the end,

he was still just a newcomer.

When filming a fight scene with an unfamiliar male lead, Li Luo fumbled or moved stiffly, unable to deliver a satisfactory shot until he failed six times before barely passing.

His scene was finished quickly.

Watching Li Luo change back into his extra clothes, Yu Hong raised an eyebrow: “How did it feel?”

To be honest, stepping into such an important role on short notice,

to perform this well,

among all the extras he’d worked with, was already quite impressive.

“Like a dream.”

Li Luo exhaled deeply.

“Mm.”

Yu Hong strongly agreed: “Isn’t it just like a dream?”

Looking at the still-filming set, Li Luo’s excitement had not yet settled.

Cold winds blew in gusts.

Though he wore dirty, stinking clothes,

he tilted his chin slightly upward and held his back straight.