Chapter 64: True Aroma

Green grass, blue water.

The two were kissing, which should have seemed poetic and romantic.

But the crew around them felt no sweetness of love—more like witnessing a delicate young flower being crushed by a big gray wolf.

“He, he.”

Gao Yuanyuan’s face was terrified, her speech stammering: “Did he stick out his tongue?”

“Yang Xiao.”

Jia Jing also looked deeply uncomfortable, quickly turning to Li Luo: “Zhao Min doesn’t have any love scenes with him, right?”

“No.”

Li Luo rubbed his eyes.

The way the Emperor acted during the kissing scene was truly astonishing—his tongue thrust was so exaggerated, visible from far away; no one would believe he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

If he were good-looking, that’d be fine!

But Pianpian that face.

No wonder everyone nearby felt physical discomfort just watching.

Yet after exchanging glances, they quickly returned to their indifferent expressions—this was just something to watch for amusement; even Tao Hong had to swallow this bitter pill in silence.

His status in the industry was undeniable.

One phrase—“too immersed in the role”—what could anyone do against Zhang Tielin?

The short break ended quickly, and Li Luo faced a role transformation.

He kept giving himself psychological cues.

He swiftly washed away Zhang Cuishan’s scholarly air from his body.

He pulled out Zhang Wuji’s character profile again and studied it over and over—Zhang Wuji’s personality was extremely complex; outwardly he seemed indecisive, but that only showed in matters of power and emotion.

Deep down, he was resilient.

At fourteen, he carried the dying Ji Xiaofu’s final wish and traveled a thousand miles to deliver Bu Hui.

Just from this one thing.

You could see his loyalty and sense of duty.

Through one incident after another, he won over nearly every outstanding figure in the martial world with his powerful charisma.

To portray him well wasn’t easy.

More complicated was that the script heavily focused on Zhang Wuji’s romantic relationships with several women.

He had to nail the balance.

Fortunately, he had his own advantage—his age matched Zhang Wuji’s; that youthful aura came naturally, making this essentially a role he was born to play!

After breakfast.

Li Luo flipped through his schedule and stepped out of the hotel.

The hotel to the set was just a few minutes’ walk—no need to drive; it was a good way to digest his meal.

Today’s scenes were heavy; it’d take more than ten hours to finish.

“Luo Ge.”

A figure suddenly darted out from the side.

“Damn.”

Li Luo jumped, startled, and lightly tapped the schedule against Baoqiang’s head: “I’ve told you a hundred times—just walk right in and find me. No one will stop you.”

“It’s fine, same thing,” Baoqiang grinned, showing his teeth.

The hotel’s decor was flashy and elegant, but his own clothes cost only a few dozen yuan.

It felt more natural to wait outside.

“Let’s go.”

Li Luo shook his head and strode forward: “Today’s got a lot of crowd scenes—I’ll get you a few roles where your face won’t be seen.”

He’d previously helped Baoqiang get a close-up shot.

After that, no more face time.

He saw how tight the guy’s finances were, but he couldn’t just hand over cash—that’d ruin their friendship. Helping him land work was better than anything.

“Got it!”

Wang Baoqiang hurried after him, looking hesitant: “Bro, I’ve got something—I need your advice.”

“Go ahead.”

Li Luo kept flipping through his schedule.

“I went for a test audition the other day,” Baoqiang said, face flushed with excitement: “The director called me this morning—he thinks I’m perfect for it.”

“Ah~”

As he spoke, he slammed straight into Li Luo’s back and nearly stumbled over.

“What’s the movie called?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did you act out during the audition?”

“A miner.”

With that key detail, Li Luo knew it was Blind Shaft—this film, adapted from the novel Shenmu, was the guy’s chance to change his fate and win the Golden Horse Award for Best Newcomer.

That would put him on Xiao Gangbao’s radar, leading to a role in No Thieves in the World.

Making him the lucky one everyone envied.

“What advice do you need?”

Li Luo tapped his schedule, looking at Baoqiang.

The latter scratched his head.

He seemed unsure what to say.

Seeing this, Li Luo knew exactly what the guy was thinking—he rolled up the schedule and smacked Baoqiang’s head hard: “Are you out of your mind?”

“Do you think following me gives you more opportunities?”

“Hehe.”

His secret thought exposed, Baoqiang scratched his head sheepishly.

On one side: a big production.

A lead actor who genuinely cares for him, always finding him more chances.

On the other: actual acting.

But it’s some obscure little crew—no way it’s reliable.

Before, he’d have jumped at it without hesitation!

But now, with this connection, he was hesitating.

“I’m one month older than you.”

Li Luo smiled, slinging an arm around Baoqiang’s shoulder as they walked: “So you call me ‘bro,’ I accept it—how do you think I treat you?”

Li Luo smiled and put an arm around Wang Baoqiang’s shoulder, pulling him forward: “So you call me big brother, I accept it—how do you think I’ve treated you?”

Baoqiang thumped his chest hard.

Whenever there’s a job, he calls him; sometimes even takes him out for good meals.

He’s gotten familiar with assistant directors, stuntmen, and others.

He’d never had this kind of treatment before—what more could he want?

“So what’s there to hesitate about?”

Li Luo ruffled his hair, then shoved him playfully aside: “If there’s a chance to act outside, grab it—do you think I’ll stop being your friend if you don’t make it?”

“That’s true!”

Li Luo ruffled his hair and shoved him irritably to the side: “If there’s a chance to act outside, grab it—do you think I’ll stop being your friend if you don’t make it?”

“Bro, let me carry that.” He scratched his head, sprinted back, and reached for Li Luo’s bag.

“There’s something for you inside.”

“Big brother, let me carry that for you.” He scratched his head, sprinted back, and reached for the bag on Li Luo’s shoulder.

“Just see.”

“Cake!”

“Tasty?”

“Mm, so good!!!”

“Eat more—it’s all for you.”

“Bro, do you think I can become a good actor like you?”

“You’ll be a Best Actor one day.”

“Big brother, do you think I can be a good actor like you?”

The two chatted as they strolled toward the set, the rising sun slowly stretching their shadows behind them.

“Thud.”

A muffled thump came from the nearby large makeup room.

Thud.

A muffled thud came from the nearby dressing room.

It was clearly the sound of something being smashed.

Chen Zihan, who had just finished her makeup and was stepping out of her room, jolted in fright; her gossip instincts instantly awakened, and she quickly whispered to a nearby crew member: “Whose dressing room is that?”

“Lo-ge.”

The assistant director glanced at her.

“Huh?”

Chen Zihan remembered she had many scenes with the male lead, that junior, and hurriedly added: “What’s his temper like?”

“Lo-ge has a very good temper.”

The assistant director waved his hand, sounding almost gleeful: “I wonder who ran into his bad side!”

The noise also drew attention from others.

Jia Jingwen, dressed as a young nobleman, stepped out of her dressing room, fanning herself with a folded fan. She first smiled and nodded at Chen Zihan, then curiously drifted over.

Li Luo is always so easygoing—what could he possibly be angry about?

Seeing this,

Chen Zihan hurried over to join the commotion.