Chapter 36: The Boss Should Work Harder (Requesting Monthly Votes)

The first scene shoots the Earth Spirit Pearl, with main appearances by Xu Zhangqing, Jing Tian, Xue Jian, Long Kui, and Jing Tian’s good friend Mao Mao.

The actor playing Mao Mao is a fat guy.

This guy, apart from his looks, is a genuinely earnest-looking handsome fellow named Lin Zicong.

He started as a screenwriter, became famous for starring in Zhou Xingxing’s films, especially in *Kung Fu Hustle* where he got beaten by Jiang Bao and even threw a dagger at the Master, delivering an excellent performance.

This role is also considered an important supporting part.

“OK, three, two, one, action~”

After the script supervisor gave the cue, Qi Hao opened the box in his hand and pulled out the prop.

Then everyone sitting around began to exclaim:

“Earth Spirit Pearl!”

Audiences watching on TV see the scene with plot, dialogue, and music, so they don’t feel awkward, but actors on set have none of that.

Fortunately, overcoming awkwardness is basic actor training.

Qi Hao’s movements, lines, and tone were all absolutely competent performances.

But he’s stuck with teammates who are pigs.

The moment they saw the prop, they couldn’t help laughing out loud.

Geigeigei~

Hu Ge, aren’t you depressed? What are you laughing at?

Liu Shishi, aren’t you supposed to be elegant? Look at your mouth—you can’t even cover your grin.

Yang Mi, you and Hu Ge are a couple.

Even if you’re laughing so hard you’re falling over, don’t collapse into my lap.

Should I push you away… or kick you?

Laughter is contagious—even Qi Hao couldn’t resist.

The shot was definitely NG’d, so no point holding back; if everyone else is laughing and you’re not, you’ll look out of place.

The actors were rolling around laughing, and even the director’s crew couldn’t stay serious.

“Isn’t this a luohan guo…?”

The thing was still sitting in Qi Hao’s hand.

No matter how you looked at it, it was a luohan guo.

Of course, you could call it a hairless kiwi fruit—it looked funny either way.

“What can we do? Where are we supposed to find an Earth Spirit Pearl? Even the *Journey to the West* crew used giant sweet potatoes for their ginseng fruit.”

Li Guoli admitted with a bitter smile that it was indeed a luohan guo—I’d be a fool to be directing if I actually had an Earth Spirit Pearl.

Originally, they’d planned to use kiwi fruit.

Convenient, fast, low-cost.

You could pick any from the market, and after filming, you could eat them.

But the prop buyer loved luohan guo.

The actors adjusted slightly, cultivated a serious mood, and re-shot the scene.

The scene itself was very simple.

It was the kind of scene that’s easy to shoot as long as no one cracks up—otherwise they wouldn’t have chosen it as the first scene of filming.

Usually the first scene is kept simple, shot in one take for good luck.

But after the first laugh, someone always slipped again.

It was making Li Guoli anxious.

Today’s shooting schedule was light, leaving time for a group meal.

But if you keep NG’ing like this, I swear you look more like you’re here for a meal.

Lunch will be boxed meals.

One potato stewed with beef, one Kung Pao chicken, one tomato stir-fried with tomatoes, and stir-fried shredded potatoes.

Qi Hao carried his boxed meal over to the director’s side.

“Director, how about this: we give the luohan… uh, Earth Spirit Pearl a close-up, then use voiceover to describe it, then cut to a wide shot…”

He almost misnamed the Earth Spirit Pearl, triggering another round of laughter.

Several people even sprayed rice out of their noses.

But his solution was genuinely practical.

Besides, the Earth Spirit Pearl will need VFX later—close-ups are essential.

Chief screenwriter Deng Zishan nodded to director Li Guoli, endorsing Qi Hao’s suggestion.

Deng Zishan is a renowned female screenwriter from Hong Kong, formerly worked at TVB.

She is currently Tang Ren’s top in-house screenwriter, part of Tang Ren’s powerful production team, and previously wrote *The Legend of Sword and Fairy 1*.

Deng Zishan was deeply wary of Qi Hao.

Big-name actors always like to rewrite scripts; some even bring their own writers on set and constantly feud with the original screenwriter.

They pretend it’s to improve the script, but really they’re just stealing scenes and spotlight moments.

Qi Hao didn’t bring a writer, but his agent Zhang Nan showed up on day one and asked her to revise a few problematic parts of the script.

The problem was, he had solid reasons—leaving her with no room to argue.

“OK, let’s shoot it again, following Qi Hao’s suggestion!”

Li Guoli, after reaching consensus with the screenwriter, decisively adopted Qi Hao’s idea.

“Qi Hao can rewrite the script?”

Zhang Nan sat on a small stool, eating the same boxed meal as Qi Hao.

As a second-generation heir, he thought of everything as part of building his career, so he didn’t mind anything.

“He’s an Academy Award-winning actor—rewriting scripts is normal, isn’t it?”

Yang Liu sat on another small stool, always ready to serve Qi Hao and fulfill his every need.

She finally understood why Qi Hao wanted an assistant who knew a bit about makeup and costume.

Because during this season’s shoot, Qi Hao didn’t wear any makeup at all.

After every take, she just had to wipe his sweat and dust.

After eating and resting briefly, the crew began filming again.

The Earth Spirit Pearl close-up was done in one take; calling out its name wasn’t perfect on the first try, but the second take went smoothly.

Then came the wide shot.

They’d laughed all morning—no matter how funny, they were numb by now.

“OK, cut! That’s a wrap!”

Li Guoli declared the scene complete; he didn’t have high standards for TV actors.

If he demanded high standards, he wouldn’t hire these people in the first place.

Hu Ge’s acting was mediocre anyway; now with his face issues, they’d avoid close-ups as much as possible.

The biggest problem was his own psychological barrier.

He kept thinking he was disfigured, that his face wasn’t as handsome as before.

Plus, Jing Tian’s original character was lively and eccentric, completely opposite to his current gloomy personality—so NGs were inevitable during filming.

Yang Mi’s peak acting was in *The Martial Arts King Su Qier*.

Tang Yan had been out for years without breaking through—her weak acting was a major reason.

As for Liu Shishi, the new actress promoted by Cai Yinong—

Sigh, Li Guoli rubbed his temples just thinking about her; he didn’t even know how to complain.

She wasn’t ugly, just had lifeless eyes.

Cai Yinong asked him to train her well—what could Li Guoli do?

I’m not an ophthalmologist.

If every actor we hired were like Qi Hao, we wouldn’t have to worry at all—he could finish filming this drama in two and a half months.

Now? It’ll probably take four or five months.

After finishing this part, they shot a few more shots; by today’s filming, the main cast had at least gotten somewhat in sync.

Qi Hao’s acting crushed the others, but he didn’t overdo it.

Crushing them gave him no sense of accomplishment.

It was like bullying a five-year-old.

Of course, Qi Hao wouldn’t deliberately slack off—his Academy Award-winning reputation couldn’t fall; at the very least, whenever he appeared on screen, he had to make people feel—

Wow, so handsome!

Oh my god, he’s acting so well!

Overall, this crew was quite comfortable to work with—no one had the nerve to embarrass the Academy Award-winning actor.

People at the bottom only like to hassle those beneath them.

Qi Hao had been bullied before, but that was many years ago.

The only downside of this crew was that there were too many women, and all of them were eyeing him hungrily.

Even the supporting actresses came over to bother him during his breaks.

And you couldn’t just shut them out coldly.

That would easily make people say you’re being arrogant, and in fact, you really are acting a bit arrogant.

After all, we’re all actors—no job is above or below another…

“Xiao Nan, can you help me solve this?”

Qi Hao turned to Zhang Nan for help; this kind of thing didn’t need him to worry—his agent could handle it.

“Easy, Boss, just wait a moment!”

Zhang Nan thought for a moment, then dashed off.

Qi Hao nodded with satisfaction; this new agent really knew how to do his job.

Unlike Lao Tian.

If Qi Hao had told Lao Tian, “Hey, so many beautiful women keep coming up to flirt with me—it’s such a hassle!”

Lao Tian would’ve mercilessly roasted him.

After Qi Hao finished two more scenes, Zhang Nan returned carrying a bag.

“Boss, as long as you’re doing something, no one will dare bother you.”

“That makes sense… What’s this? Books? *The Art of Human Nature*, *My Life in Art*, *The Brecht Play Collection*, *Training for Actorly Creativity*… I’m fucking—”

Qi Hao was utterly stunned, staring blankly at Zhang Nan as if he’d encountered an alien lifeform.

“Exactly. If you’re reading, no one will dare interrupt you,” Zhang Nan felt his solution was flawless: “No matter how thick-skinned someone is, they’d still have basic manners.”

“I’m just an animal—no, a middle schooler. You want me to pose with books?”

Qi Hao wasn’t completely uninterested in learning—he preferred watching classic films to study acting.

At his age, he’d already seen countless films.

“Precisely because you’re a middle schooler, you should study even more! It’s not just about posing—no one says middle schoolers can’t improve!”

Does a boss get to slack off? A boss should work harder than anyone else!

Zhang Nan looked at Qi Hao with an encouraging gaze.

“You’ve got a point…,” Qi Hao began to question himself.

“Start with this one—*The Art of Human Nature*. We must overcome these weaknesses. The author says that only 15% of success in a career comes from professional knowledge; the other 85% comes from your ability to express ideas, lead others, and inspire passion…”

Zhang Nan picked up Carnegie’s book and placed it on Qi Hao’s lap.

To grow big and strong, you must master the ability to inspire passion—skillfully using tactics like promising false futures, PUA, selling ideals, and playing the victim…

“So… I’ll give it a read?” Qi Hao was completely won over.

“Read it! Even elementary school kids can understand it!” Zhang Nan was pleased—this boss was truly trainable.

And so everyone saw Qi Hao, sitting on his chair resting, earnestly reading a book.

How could it not be painful?

Some characters he didn’t even recognize…