Chapter 40: Big Shorts, Black T-Shirt (One More Chapter)

Another deal both parties felt they’d won.

The lead male role plus six hundred thousand yuan left Li Luo dazed, eager to start filming tomorrow just to get the money in hand and rest easy.

He’d made a few ten thousand yuan earlier.

But he set aside some for his family, then paid taxes and miscellaneous fees like tuition.

What remained on him was barely ten thousand yuan.

Though his purchasing power was astonishing now, looking at his bank balance, he still felt uneasy; he occasionally bought small gifts for Xu Qing, and all of that cost money.

Friendship demands reciprocity.

Especially between lovers.

Others were willing to spend on him, but Li Luo couldn’t truly see himself as a kept man.

As for Wu Dun.

Six hundred thousand yuan was a huge saving for him.

After Su Youpeng’s resurgence in “My Fair Princess,” his pay skyrocketed—tens of thousands couldn’t hold him back, even though Li Luo’s current fame was nowhere near his.

But to Wu Dun, he was a rising star.

After years immersed in the industry, he still had that kind of eye.

Though he regretted not being able to bring this slippery kid under his wing, overall it wasn’t a loss—he’d even forged a good connection.

“By the way.”

Wu Dun suddenly remembered something and hurriedly said: “When are you free? Let’s find time to sign the contract!”

“Give me a few more days.”

Not understanding why the other man was more eager than he was, Li Luo grinned sheepishly: “Let me set up a studio first, then I’ll coordinate with your company’s people.”

“Clever.”

Wu Dun immediately raised his thumb.

The reason was perfectly valid; he couldn’t press further.

Actors earn high incomes, but taxes are heavy too.

Though those taxes were justified, within legal limits, Li Luo had no objection to keeping more for himself—taking roles under his personal name versus through a sole proprietorship were two entirely different things.

On this six-hundred-thousand-yuan fee alone, he could save sixty thousand.

After a few minutes of casual chat.

Li Luo got out of the car, waved at Wu Dun’s distant Hummer, and walked lightly toward the barbecue stall.

Unlike Wu Dun.

He knew exactly how impactful this drama would be once released.

Landing the role of Zhang Wuji was like a giant pancake falling from the sky.

Good thing he’d kept his cool back then.

After all, this was “The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber!”

Even if it was overly styled like a period romance, precisely because it resembled one, its viewership ratings on the mainland were quite strong—it was a massive hit, a childhood memory for countless people.

Whether it matched the original novel didn’t concern him much.

As long as it was popular!

As for whether Zhang Wuji would still have the same impact now that he was playing him.

Li Luo still had confidence in that.

In terms of period costume, physique, and acting, he could hold his own; with careful study of Zhang Cuishan and Zhang Wuji’s personalities, he could definitely bring both roles to life.

After all, he’d already mastered the equally complex Lin Pingzhi.

“Lo-ge.”

The greeting snapped him back to reality; Jia Nailiang, seeing his cheerful expression, teased: “What’s got you so happy? Like you just found money!”

“Pretty much.”

Li Luo sat down, his face glowing with unrestrained joy: “Why are you all staring at me? Eat!”

“Someone’s treating us—go ahead and eat your fill.”

“Come on, drink!”

After sitting in the car for a few minutes, he’d transformed like a different person—even Huang Sheng looked cheerful, leaving the latter deeply unsettled.

Filled with questions.

The others raised their glasses along with him.

Whether abroad or at home, having connections always made things easier.

That night he called Xu Qing.

Only two days had passed since she’d sent the text right after school; Li Luo drove his Mercedes G-Class to the address she gave, circling for half an hour before stopping at an alley.

“Creeeak.”

The courtyard gate groaned open, shrill and grating.

“Xiao Luo.”

Seeing Li Luo holding a full bag of fruit, Xu Qing nodded and stepped aside: “I figured you’d be coming soon—called you over and you actually brought gifts?”

As she spoke, she shot him a quick glance.

Li Luo instantly understood.

The setting wasn’t appropriate—they needed to keep distance.

“Better to be overly polite!”

He smiled, stepping over the threshold: “Nothing expensive, just fruit.”

The text had given the address, said yesterday’s matter was settled, and told him to come to her friend’s home as a guest—visiting empty-handed would be rude; bringing fruit was proper etiquette.

Following Xu Qing inside.

It was a typical small sihe courtyard, neatly maintained.

Small trees, a fish pond—all present.

The elegant setting made Li Luo pause repeatedly; owning such a tidy sihe courtyard in Beijing was truly impressive.

In the future, it would cost hundreds of millions.

Even now, the price was steep—no less than several million yuan.

Of course, some were cheap.

But most were mixed courtyards.

Not only were they dilapidated, but ownership was also unclear.

Li Luo had once thought that once he earned money, he’d buy a small courtyard—connected to heaven above, grounded below, renovated a bit with some cash, and it would be the most comfortable place to live.

“Come on.”

Seeing her young lover gazing around endlessly, Xu Qing shook her head: “It’s just a shabby house—what’s so interesting?”

She’d grown up in this kind of place; she felt nothing special about it.

“Qing-jie.”

Li Luo grinned: “If you trust me, when you have money, buy several more courtyards like this—no loss, no scam—someday!”

“When property values rise, it might even beat business.”

“Look.”

A burly figure stepped out from the warm room, his voice deep and rumbling: “Don’t let his youth fool you—he’s got more vision than both of you combined.”

A thick cigar dangled from his mouth.

Baggy shorts, black T-shirt, a scruffy face.

His appearance was sloppy, yet his presence was commanding.

Jiang Wen.

Li Luo instantly recognized the sudden newcomer.

“Yes, yes, yes.”

Before Xu Qing could introduce him, another graceful figure emerged from inside: “Only you have vision.”

Since their last meeting at the art exam, months had passed.

He hadn’t expected to see Yu Feihong here.

She wore jeans and a loose white T-shirt, just like Xu Qing—complete casual attire, yet their demeanors were entirely different.

One had the air of a wealthy, pampered girl.

The other.

Exuded profound intellectual grace.

Both of them, along with Jiang Wen, belonged to Beijing’s elite circle—it was no surprise they hung out together.

“Hong-jie.”

Li Luo greeted her with a smile, then glanced aside.

“Call me Wen-ge.”

Jiang Wen stepped forward and clapped Li Luo firmly on the shoulder: “You’re Li Luo, right? I heard about what you did—good job, damn impressive!”

The blow didn’t budge him an inch.

“Solid build!”

The scruffy guy squeezed his firm muscles, expression slightly surprised: “You’ve trained?”