Chapter 52

In fact, they had spotted that wig too early.

When Li Luo saw that the edge of the wig didn’t match his skin tone, he immediately frowned, ran his fingers along his hairline, and bluntly held it up to the makeup artist’s face, rubbing it lightly.

He said nothing, just stared fixedly at the other.

Sometimes, the weight of silence is heavier than sharp words.

Originally, they’d thought he was young and easygoing.

Everyone figured today was just the launch ceremony—just go through the motions— but now, pinned by Li Luo’s unblinking gaze, the makeup artist’s back slowly dampened with sweat.

No one dared speak; the room’s atmosphere grew heavier by the second.

“Start over.”

Li Luo felt the moment was right, turned back, sat before the vanity, and snapped out two words.

His months on the Smile, Proud Warrior set weren’t wasted—he knew there were always people who’d push their luck if given an inch, and his earlier friendliness had been a test.

If they’d done their jobs properly, that would’ve been fine.

Mutual respect.

But he’d actually uncovered something.

A film set is a small martial world, full of slippery characters.

At his age, he was already easy to underestimate; if he showed weakness now, they’d only keep taking advantage.

Don’t think just because you’re the lead, they won’t dare mess with you.

He immediately decided to use this chance to give them a warning.

Others couldn’t control them.

But not on his set—not ever!

He had to crush any hint of laziness the moment it appeared.

Seeing Li Luo sitting stiffly before the vanity, the makeup artist snapped to attention, held his breath, and carefully fixed the skin-tone mismatch, daring not to harbor another thought.

Everything after that went smoothly.

Looking at himself in the full-length mirror, Li Luo nodded in satisfaction.

He wore a pure white undershirt beneath a beige robe, with black lines crisscrossing here and there, adding depth to the outfit.

His wig was styled into a high topknot.

He’d slipped on long boots.

At one meter eighty-two, his figure stood tall and straight—the robe suited him perfectly.

“Good.”

He rolled up his sleeves behind him, smiled at the crew, and said, “Thanks for your hard work!”

The shift from cold to warm.

None of them dared look down on Li Luo anymore; they quickly insisted it was just their duty.

They quickly packed up and left the room.

Once the door shut, Li Luo finally took stock of his temporary quarters—of course he could return to Beiying Village when free, but if he got busy, he wouldn’t have time to run back and forth.

As the male lead, he naturally received equal treatment.

What met his eyes.

Was a luxury hotel suite.

The makeup area was the living room—complete with TV, fridge, and a large sofa.

Through the big window, he could see the ancient-style buildings of Feiteng Film Base, with lush trees everywhere—views and scenery were top-tier.

He stepped over to the side, where a spacious bedroom held a soft, large bed.

A walk-in closet, a bathroom.

Everything you could want.

Compared to the double bed he’d had on Smile, Proud Warrior, this was night and day.

It couldn’t match Xu Qing’s suite back then, but he’d still taken a solid step forward—Li Luo casually picked up an apple, wiped it, and bit down hard with a crisp crunch.

“Knock knock knock.”

“Brother Luo, the launch ceremony starts in half an hour—let’s head downstairs and gather.”

“Got it.”

After resting in the room for a while, he finally got the call.

He checked his makeup one last time in the mirror, clenched his fists to steel himself, then opened the door with a light step.

“Little Luo.”

As he stepped into the hallway, a delighted call came from beside him.

“Senior sister?”

He shut the door, gave a thumbs-up: “Nice, nice—too bad I’m not good with words, I can only say you look great.”

They hadn’t seen each other in a while.

Now, Jia Jing’s outfit was stunning.

She wore a pink long dress embroidered with flowers, with several small braids hanging in front.

A white jade hairpin stuck in her hair.

Her earrings swayed gently with her movements, her face looking dewy and fresh.

“Great” made Jia Jing beam; she clasped her hands behind her back, circled Li Luo, and kept praising: “Perfect, perfect—you’re exactly the Zhang Wuji I imagined.”

“But can you stop calling me senior sister?”

“You’re making me sound old~”

As she turned, a faint perfume drifted toward him.

Her gauzy skirt swayed with her steps.

Her voice was sweet and cloying, making Li Luo’s ears tingle.

“Alright, alright.”

He rubbed his ears, waved his hand, and asked, “Then… call you Jingwen?”

“That’s better.”

Jia Jing smiled and nodded, gesturing for Li Luo to join her toward the elevator, her assistant trailing behind.

They’d only shared one meal.

But last time, they’d talked so well, so meeting again felt natural.

They walked downstairs together, chatting and laughing.

Jia Jing’s request for him to stop calling her senior sister made sense—the Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber cast included many disciples from the Three Great Sects; calling her “senior sister” now wouldn’t fit.

Actors from Beijing Film Academy, Central Academy of Drama, and Shanghai Theatre Academy were all in the drama.

Calling her Jingwen felt warmer.

Arriving in the lobby, Li Luo felt like the Six Great Sects had surrounded the hotel.

Monks, nuns, Daoists.

A full-blown wuxia cosplay convention.

In just a short while, Xu Jinjiang had donned wild golden hair and transformed into the Golden-Haired Lion King.

Zhang Guoli, long absent, still had his familiar bald head and wore a splendid monk’s robe—he played Cheng Kun in the drama, and the other two of the Iron Triangle had also arrived.

Zhang Tielin’s Yang Xiao was hard to recognize.

It was impossible to connect him with the handsome, elegant Left Guardian of the Brightness.

As for Wang Gang, his Yuan Dynasty prince look was decent, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he still sounded like Heshen.

The male and female leads appearing together drew immediate greetings.

Zhang Guoli had a very good impression of Li Luo—he knew he was young, and actors from the mainland who landed the male lead in a co-production at this age were rare; he felt he should lend a hand.

So he stepped forward willingly, introducing Li Luo to each of the veteran actors in the cast.

Li Luo responded with proper respect, showing no slack.

Some veteran actors might only play supporting roles, but they’d been in the industry for decades—their networks were no joke; if word got out he was arrogant and disrespectful to elders,

Some veteran actors may only get supporting roles, but after years immersed in the industry, their networks are far from ordinary—if word got out that they were arrogant and disrespectful to senior actors, it would be bad.

After going through a round of bows and greetings, Li Luo was thoroughly dizzy.

He politely told the fourteen-year-old Shi Xiaolong he’d grown up watching his films.

Even though it was true, it made the boy blush crimson.

Everyone burst into laughter.

But none of the actors dared underestimate Shi Xiaolong—though young, he’d been a child star for years, and most importantly, he was Wu Dun’s adopted son; you had to respect him even if you didn’t respect the monk.

After the pleasantries, the cast boarded a luxury minibus.

Heading for the launch ceremony site.

Rushed toward the launch ceremony site.