Chapter 311: Casting

The male lead of "The Art of Dying" is set in the script as a 30-year-old unemployed adult.

However, generally speaking, if a male actor takes good care of himself, even at forty or fifty he can still look as young as someone in their twenties or thirties—like the original actor who played the male lead, Masahiro Motoki, who was actually 42 when he filmed it, yet viewers would have no trouble believing he was 25.

Therefore, Wu Yuchen placed no strict age limit on the male actors for this role, publicly stating “around 30,” but he allowed anyone who could convincingly portray that age range to audition—though there was an upper limit: no one over 45.

Thinking of this, Wu Yuchen sighed; yesterday he’d received a call from Pu Cunxin, asking if he could make an exception and let him audition. Pu Cunxin’s demeanor did fit the male lead, and his acting was unquestionable—but he was already over fifty!

Wu Yuchen named this male lead Lin Wu. Though thirty years old, his personality is introverted; having spent years in a band, he had little contact with society and remained simple, immature. When he becomes unemployed and enters the entirely unfamiliar funeral industry, he must still convey the demeanor of a young man in his twenties.

This serves both to depict his personal growth after becoming a mortician and to allow the audience to experience the funeral profession through the eyes of this complete outsider.

Moreover, the film includes a scene of bathing in a hot spring, where nearly the entire body—except for private parts—must be exposed. If an actor is too old, no matter how well his face is maintained, his body will show signs of aging; his flesh may sag slightly, inevitably creating a disconnect with the character’s image.

So Wu Yuchen simply drew a line: no one over 45. Even Zhang Guorong, who had previously collaborated well with him, was rejected—just two years over the limit.

Perhaps influenced by his earlier filming of "The Assassin," his life trajectory changed—he had no time to shoot "The Dimension of the Mind," the film many claimed worsened his condition, and thus he did not commit suicide this year.

Thinking of this, Wu Yuchen smiled; it was almost a meritorious act. Compared to that, whether Zhang Guorong played the male lead or not no longer mattered.

“Wu Dao, don’t I meet the requirements? I’m 33 too! My musical sense and rhythm are excellent—I can even learn the cello!”

Wu Yuchen waved his hand directly at Sun Honglei: “Huaqiang, the moment you show up, anyone who doesn’t know you’ll think you’re a gangster come to collect a debt.”

Sun Honglei grew anxious: “Wu Dao, I’m not bad-looking! Give me a chance!”

Sun Honglei and Wu Yuchen have been longtime acquaintances—they met when Wu first filmed the short "Car 44," and later Sun played Zhou Tienan in "Dr. Sun" and the ghost in "A Night of a Thousand Stars," gaining some fame.

But because of Zhou Tienan, people called him a cowardly, hollow shell—a pretty face with no substance. So he later took the role of Liu Huaqiang, the ruthless gang boss in "The Conquest," which made him a nationwide sensation; now everyone’s first impression of him is the gang boss.

Sun Honglei himself was rather proud of it; after all, transforming from a coward into a ruthless gang boss proved his acting ability.

In recent years, Wu Yuchen’s romantic films like "If Love Had a Destiny" and "My Sassy Girl" gave him zero chances—but this time it’s not a romance, so he felt he still had a shot.

Watching Sun Honglei’s persistent begging, Wu Yuchen thought for a moment and said: “Go pick up a cello and hold it for me.”

Sun Honglei hurried over and, under the guidance of a cello teacher, posed dramatically as if cradling the instrument with deep emotion.

Wu Yuchen looked at Liu Huaqiang, tenderly clutching a cello, and burst out laughing.

After satisfying his small mischief, Wu Yuchen told Sun Honglei: “Leizi, forget it. Don’t force that artiste vibe—you’re better off picking up your knife.”

After standing up, Sun Honglei gave Wu Yuchen a resentful glance, but Wu Yuchen smiled and said:

“I heard Xu Ke’s 'Seven Swords Down Tianshan' contacted you? Prepare well for that role—I think you’ve got a real shot.”

Over the past few years, Chinese wuxia films have been wildly popular both domestically and internationally, so nearly every well-known director has been invited by producers to make wuxia films. Xu Lao Guai, who previously directed classics like "A Chinese Ghost Story," "The Swordsman," and "Once Upon a Time in China," naturally wouldn’t be an exception. "Seven Swords Down Tianshan" reportedly began development last year, with a grand scale, claiming to cast seven major stars as the seven swords, drawing widespread attention in the industry.

Sun Honglei’s current career trajectory is better than in his past life; he’s already quite famous on the mainland, so Wu Yuchen expects the role of the main villain, Fenghuo Liancheng, in "Seven Swords," will go to him.

Watching Sun Honglei walk out, Wu Yuchen smiled; this kid still had strong ambition, nothing like the version of him trapped in variety shows a decade later.

Moments later, Liu Dehua entered, clasping his hands together and bowing slightly to Wu Yuchen.

Wu Yuchen looked at Liu Dehua—he was 42, but well-maintained, perfectly capable of playing a 30-year-old youth.

As for Hua’s acting, it wasn’t top-tier, but it was solid. At this stage, Liu Dehua seemed to hover around a 50-50 level—you couldn’t say he stood out, but he never looked worse than anyone else beside him.

For example, in "Infernal Affairs," people remember Liang Chaowei’s brooding eyes—but if you think carefully, Hua wasn’t bad either.

But after Liu Dehua left, Wu Yuchen still shook his head. Whether it was because he’d done too many commercial films or had been a star too long, he lacked that slightly artistic aura.

The next actor who came in radiated genuine artistic temperament—Wang Zhiwen didn’t rise to fame because of his looks, but because of his aura, and his acting was also quite strong.

After Wang Zhiwen left the room, Wu Yuchen fell into thought again. Wang’s performance was good, but why did he feel something was missing?

He mentally reviewed Lin Wu again. Lin Wu was a contradictory man: after his parents divorced, he lived with his mother in Shanghai, raised with Western values, yet inwardly remained a traditional, introverted Chinese—cautious, timid, hesitant in his actions.

His past as a cellist represented his Western lifestyle; the funeral rites represented Eastern tradition. The film would use Lin Wu to depict the collision of Eastern and Western cultures, ultimately blending them skillfully—when facing death, regardless of culture, all desire to be honored and blessed beyond the grave.

Realizing this, Wu Yuchen understood why Wang Zhiwen fell short—he lacked the Western bearing, the Western flavor.

Then came another actor, hailed as an artistic god—Jin Chengwu. Jin Chengwu was just 30, the youngest candidate in this audition.

Seeing Jin Chengwu, Wu Yuchen smiled; they’d met before during the casting for "The Assassin," when he considered Shen Lian. Honestly, if not for Zhang Guorong, he might have chosen Jin Chengwu back then.

Wu Yuchen didn’t ask Jin Chengwu to perform right away—he started chatting: “Ah Wu, I remember you told me last time you’re a quiet person who likes being alone—what do you do at home?”

Jin Chengwu smiled shyly: “I’m just a homebody—play video games, play piano, strum guitar, take care of pets—time just flies.”

Could he play piano? Wu Yuchen noted that down, then asked: “Did you study abroad in America?”

Jin Chengwu nodded: “Yes, I lived there for about one or two years. Later, I accidentally got involved in commercial filming…”

Wu Yuchen smiled: “Your parents must have treated you well—invested heavily in your upbringing and respected your choices.”

Jin Chengwu smiled but said nothing. His family background was complicated: his father was Japanese, his mother was from Wanwan; both were divorced with a son each, then remarried and had Jin Chengwu as their third child.

He was born in Wanwan, but because his father was Japanese, he attended a Japanese expat school, where the kids mocked him for not speaking Japanese and refused to play with him. When he returned home, neighbors’ kids called him a Japanese and wouldn’t play with him either—so from childhood, he grew quiet and withdrawn.

Wu Yuchen didn’t press further, letting him begin his audition. After Jin Chengwu bowed and left, Wu Yuchen nodded and marked a check beside his name—he met all requirements for the role.

Honestly, though Jin Chengwu is called an artistic god, most of his artistic lead roles—in "Chungking Express," "Fallen Angels," "He Left, She Came"—were handsome, pitiable, fragile men. Most directors exploited his looks and his innate melancholy.

His acting isn’t truly top-tier; from Wu Yuchen’s observation, it’s not necessarily better than Liu Dehua’s—but for this male lead, he’s far more suitable.

Lin Wu, the male lead, has long harbored resentment toward his father, who divorced his mother and abandoned him as a child—this unresolved wound becomes a turning point in the film when, as a mortician, he personally prepares his father’s body for burial, marking a major step in his personal growth.

Jin Chengwu’s innate melancholy can be used here, but it must be concealed. Wu Yuchen asked about his family precisely to better understand the actor’s own upbringing.

“Wu Dao, hello! Hello, everyone! I’m Zhao Wenzhuan!”

Looking at this elegant yet strikingly handsome man, Wu Yuchen smiled: “I called Director Li just two days ago—he praised you endlessly.”

Zhao Wenzhuan wasn’t a professional actor—he graduated college and became a flight attendant. Later, Li An discovered him while filming "The Wedding Banquet," then cast him as the male lead in "Eat Drink Man Woman." Two years ago, his role as Xue Shao in "The Emperor in Han Dynasty" attracted a huge female fanbase on the mainland.

Even in the entertainment industry, he’s considered a handsome man—Zhou Xun once said that when she first saw Zhao Wenzhuan while filming "The Emperor in Han Dynasty," she felt she was falling in love.

Wu Yuchen switched into casual chat mode again, noting that this man too had studied piano and lived in America for several years.

“Can you tell me about your family?”

Zhao Wenzhuan didn’t avoid it—he spoke openly: “My mother was a concubine. I lived under the same roof as my father and his first wife, so many people called me a bastard since childhood.”

“I’m sorry…” Wu Yuchen gave him an apologetic look.

Zhao Wenzhuan shook his head with a smile: “It’s fine—it’s the truth. But my older half-brother treated me well—he’d beat up anyone who insulted me.”

“As a child, I hated my father most—he was extremely strict and often beat me. Whenever someone praised my looks, he’d say, ‘You look sinister—what good is that?’”

“In middle school, I became interested in art—painting, singing. I wanted to become an artist, but my father screamed at me, called me useless, and forced me to enroll in an industrial college to study mechanical engineering. Back then, I just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. After graduation, I became a flight attendant, flying internationally, never home for months.”

Wu Yuchen asked: “So you had deep estrangement with your father?”

“Yes—he was too strict, a classic patriarch. I never heard him say ‘I love you’ from childhood until he was diagnosed with liver cancer. When I returned home to care for him, he finally said, ‘Just be happy from now on.’ That sentence made me cry uncontrollably in my room, dissolving all the accumulated bitterness I’d held for years.”

“After my father passed away, I quit my job and went to America to study again. That’s where I met Director Li and began this path.”

After Zhao Wenzhuan finished his audition, Wu Yuchen’s smile deepened—he gave his name a heavy check. This one was excellent—acting, appearance, temperament—all matched the role as well as Jin Chengwu’s, and his personal history resonated even more with the male lead.