Chapter 23: People of the Jianghu

Sheath the sword.

Li Luo strolled toward the shade pavilion, curiously glancing at the man.

He had a large nose.

He wasn’t tall, but his build was sturdy and solid.

He smiled broadly, his lower jaw protruding slightly, wearing gold-rimmed glasses.

He looked utterly harmless.

But no matter how much a leopard cat pretends, it’s still not a prince—Li Luo’s sharp sixth sense clearly sensed the aura of the Jianghu on him, far heavier than Yuan Bin’s!

“Let me introduce you.”

Zhang Zhongzhi beckoned him forward and introduced the man: “This is Wu Dun, Brother Wu, a well-known producer in the industry.”

“He’s produced many films and TV series.”

“Today Brother Wu came to visit the set—you should get to know him well.”

Big Beard remained as enthusiastic as ever in his speech.

But it was neither warm nor cold.

Few in the industry were worth kissing his ass—he wasn’t one of them.

Actually, bringing Li Luo over was meant to repay a previous favor; after all, in this line of work, getting a moment in front of a famous producer and leaving your name is already an opportunity.

The circle works this way: more friends, more paths.

“Hello, Brother Wu.”

Li Luo smiled, meeting his gaze: “Pleased to meet you.”

Listen to the meaning behind the words.

He immediately understood Zhang Zhongzhi’s intent—someone Big Beard called “well-known” must have produced many famous films and TV shows, though the man left no impression in his mind.

But that was normal.

Those working behind the scenes are mostly unknown to the public.

“This is Li Luo.”

Zhang Zhongzhi turned and introduced him: “My Lin Pingzhi—his acting is solid.”

“His martial skills are top-notch too,” Yuan Bin offered a smooth compliment: “His fist and sword techniques are both well-grounded.”

“Not bad.”

Wu Dun grew interested, smiling as he extended his arm: “Looks like heroes emerge in youth.”

He hadn’t taken it seriously before.

Their back-and-forth introductions made him take a closer look at Li Luo.

Though the young man wore strange clothing, it suited him perfectly—his appearance was first-rate, tall and handsome, no less than the Hong Kong and Taiwan heartthrobs he knew.

“It’s an overstatement by Director Zhang and Commander Yuan,” Li Luo shook his hand.

This Wu Dun was likely from Taiwan—his accent wasn’t heavy, but still discernible.

He was just about to let go.

But the man suddenly tightened his grip.

“Wait.”

Wu Dun suddenly remembered something and turned to Zhang Zhongzhi: “Wasn’t this young man the one who saved Miss Xu Qing recently?”

The Laughing in the Wind set had always drawn attention.

After that incident, it exploded online.

Reporters had gathered outside the set back then; Big Beard Zhang skillfully teased them, then pushed Li Luo and Xu Qing out for another round of interviews.

The production team also pushed hard, flooding the entire country with stills.

They focused promotion on Xu Qing and Li Luo.

It was hot before even airing.

As an actor with no official works yet, he’d already gained his first batch of fans.

Afterward, rumors spread within the set.

Someone claimed to have heard Li Erpeng smashing things in his room late at night, but Zhang Zhongzhi quickly shut it down.

The Laughing in the Wind set’s wire accident didn’t quiet down for a long time.

As an industry insider,

Wu Dun naturally had some memory of it.

Upon receiving Zhang Zhongzhi’s confirmation, he burst into laughter and gripped Li Luo’s hand tighter: “I like guys like you—come on, let’s exchange phone numbers.”

He shook his arm vigorously, exuding boldness:

“We’ve got to drink a couple of glasses tonight.”

“No problem.”

Li Luo smiled and nodded in agreement.

People often visited the set—every walk of life, even Jin Yong had taken plenty of photos.

Actors can’t avoid some socializing.

Besides, his alcohol tolerance was fine—he wasn’t afraid!

“Who’s that?”

Leaving the shade pavilion, Li Luo drew his sword again to practice, glancing sideways.

“Hua Zai’s Twelve Young Masters of Miaojie.”

Yuan Bin shrugged and continued: “Wei Zai’s New Meteor, Butterfly Sword, and the old Taiwanese hit Xiao Lin Kid—all were funded and co-produced by him. He’s a big shot.”

“He’s produced so many films and TV series, you couldn’t count them.”

“You can tell he likes you.”

He glanced at Li Luo and couldn’t help warning: “Maybe it’s because your rescue act appealed to him, but Wu Dun is a Jianghu man—be careful how you deal with him.”

“If you’re unsure, ask your Qing-jie.”

He nodded toward Xu Qing, who was sitting in the distant tent fanning herself, then patted Li Luo’s shoulder.

Li Luo being recognized as her adopted younger brother was common knowledge on set.

People only admired him, rarely envied or hated him.

Many, even if they couldn’t do good deeds themselves, still hoped good people would be rewarded!

“Jianghu?”

Li Luo couldn’t help smiling.

Talking about Jianghu men on a wuxia set was ridiculous.

“Be serious.”

Yuan Bin kicked him irritably, whispering toward the bamboo grove: “You’re still young—you don’t know. He was involved in a major international case.”

As he spoke, the martial arts director subtly mimicked a gun gesture: “His background is extraordinary—he’s now a top figure in the industry.”

“With Xu Qing around, he won’t harm you.”

“But don’t provoke him.”

The sword’s light paused. Li Luo glanced at the bamboo grove, then turned back toward the shade pavilion.

Wu Dun, with his gold-rimmed glasses, noticed his gaze.

He smiled and waved.

Bamboo grove.

Major international case.

Combining that with his age and Taiwanese accent, Li Luo suddenly remembered something—he was stunned. He hadn’t expected someone who looked like an old man to have done it; few had been involved back then.

From this, he deduced the man was one of the shooters.

Damn.

Who’d have thought he’d transformed into an industry tycoon?

Li Luo had seen all the films Yuan Bin mentioned—“star-studded” was an understatement; only someone with real power could produce such films. Calling him a top figure in the industry wasn’t an exaggeration.

“Thanks for the warning, Commander Yuan.”

Li Luo nodded to him, then turned and resumed swinging his sword: “But who he is, what he did in the past—it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Just do your own job!”

If someone smiles, accept it.

If someone gives you trouble, find a way to retaliate.

He’s neither arrogant nor hostile—treat him normally.

“I like your attitude, kid.”

Yuan Bin shook his head self-deprecatingly and patted Li Luo’s shoulder: “You’re right—the most important thing is to do your own job.”

At his age, he still couldn’t see things as clearly as an eighteen-year-old boy.

But times are different now.

He’d lived through that chaotic era, when hiring actors was brutally simple: a bag of cash and a bullet—ask if you were available!

Under such accumulated authority,

He couldn’t afford to be careless.

Yet watching Li Luo’s carefree figure walk away, his mood suddenly lifted—he laughed and strode forward to catch up.