Chapter 36: The Picky

After makeup was finalized, Yan Li went to meet Gao Qunshu; if the director didn’t approve, no amount of satisfaction from him or the makeup artist would matter.

The production team for “Conquest” had already started filming, and Gao Qunshu wasn’t at the hotel; since the location wasn’t far, Yan Li simply went straight to the set.

As luck would have it, today’s scene involved Liu Huaqiang and his assassins Jin Bao and Da Peng plotting to kill their enemy Wu Tian in a rented apartment.

When Yan Li arrived, he overheard several menacing-looking men discussing how to kill “himself,” and found the experience strangely surreal.

“Director Gao.”

During a break in filming, Yan Li seized the chance to greet him; Gao Qunshu looked up and his eyes lit up.

“Wow, you look sharp.”

“This is the look the makeup team settled on—what do you think? Should we make any changes?”

Yan Li turned sideways to show off the look; Gao Qunshu paused, then spotted one flaw.

“A bit too youthful.”

Wu Tian in the drama is over thirty; Yan Li’s face is rugged, his demeanor steady, lacking the naivete and restlessness common among men his age.

But age is age—even with a slicked-back hairstyle, he looks no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight, at most early thirties.

Of course, this isn’t a major issue; many actors’ appearances don’t match their ages. Whether someone looks old or young depends on the individual—so long as it doesn’t break immersion, it’s fine. If needed, makeup can compensate.

Overall, Gao Qunshu was satisfied; apart from noting the youthfulness, he made only one small adjustment.

He added a gold necklace around Yan Li’s neck, alongside the fake solid-gold Rolex, to convey Wu Tian’s wealth.

Yan Li hesitated: “Won’t that look tacky? Like a nouveau riche?”

Gao Qunshu looked at him strangely: “Isn’t Wu Tian exactly a nouveau riche?”

Yan Li “….”

The look was too handsome—it made him feel immersed.

By his own nature, if he had money, he wouldn’t dress like this—but it fit Wu Tian, this crude tycoon.

Plus, the story’s backdrop is the 1990s, when businessmen who’d just made their fortune in the market really did love wearing gold chains to show off.

Yan Li volunteered: “Should I add a gold ring too?”

Gao Qunshu considered: “Don’t overdo it. The gold chain is enough. Don’t pick one too thick—Wu Tian is shrewd, more restrained than those crude tycoons.”

“Understood.”

After a few more words, the makeup look was settled. Several actors who’d been listening nearby curiously drifted over.

The shoot was taking place in a residential home, cramped and with few people present; as soon as Yan Li entered, the actors noticed him.

“Director Gao, who’s this?”

The speaker was Li Yixiang, who played Jin Bao; he knew Gao Qunshu better, so he spoke more casually.

“Yan Li—he’s playing Wu Tian.”

Gao Qunshu introduced him; Yan Li offered a polite, friendly smile and greeted the group.

Hello, everyone.

Of the actors playing Liu Huaqiang, Jin Bao, and Da Peng, Yan Li only vaguely remembered Sun Honglei, who portrayed Liu Huaqiang.

He’d played the gang boss Ah Lai in Zhao Baogang’s “Like Fog, Like Rain, Like Wind,” and had also appeared in Zhang Yimou’s “My Father and My Mother”—he had some name recognition.

The other two: Da Peng’s actor Zhang Li, Yan Li at least knew had appeared in Gao Qunshu’s “Thirteen Murders”; but Li Yixiang was completely unknown to him.

The intelligence system hadn’t provided any data on them, yet it had dug deep into Sun Honglei’s and Gao Qunshu’s private lives.

Thinking of this, Yan Li subtly sized up Sun Honglei.

Small eyes, long nose, a menacing face—not handsome at all, yet somehow he had a knack for pleasing “sisters.”

That actress Ding Jiali was one thing, but even Gong Li had been entangled with him.

Not picky at all?!

Yan Li admitted he felt a twinge of envy—after all, that was Gong Li.

During his teenage years, Gong’s films like “Red Sorghum” and “Ju Dou,” especially “Ju Dou,” had deeply shaken and stunned him.

But Yan Li was always good at hiding his thoughts; no matter what he felt inside, his face always showed respect and warmth toward seniors.

This slightly improved Sun Honglei and the others’ impression of him.

Don’t think only women feel uneasy around beautiful women—same-sex rivalry exists; many men instinctively dislike good-looking men.

Especially since these guys all rely on their skills or unusual looks and presence to get by—they’re probably even more sensitive about it.

Yan Li’s friendly smiles helped ease some of the resistance and hostility, earning him a degree of acceptance.

From “pretty boy” to “a pretty boy who’s actually not bad.”

If Yan Li knew their thoughts, he’d feel wronged—he had a strong, upright face and a tall, muscular build; few people would ever label him a “pretty boy.”

But then again, who else would he be in the “Conquest” production?

Not only are the villains ugly and menacing, even the cops aren’t gentle—most actors could walk straight onto Mount Weihu and play Shan Chao-diao and the Eight Golden Warriors.

Compared to this gang of bandits and mobsters, wasn’t Yan Li clearly a “pretty boy”?

In contrast to the male actors’ hostility, the female actors treated Yan Li far more warmly.

For instance, Liu Weiwei, who played Liu Huaqiang’s mistress Li Mei.

She was on set too, but had little to do today, so she’d been waiting nearby; seeing Yan Li stay to observe the filming, she took the initiative to explain some production details to him.

Learning he’d just arrived in Shijiazhuang and lacked essentials, she even recommended nearby supermarkets.

Yan Li thanked Liu Weiwei profusely for her help, but always kept a careful distance.

As mentioned earlier, the intelligence system’s dossier on Gao Qunshu included Liu Weiwei.

So, the relationship between Liu Huaqiang and Li Mei in the drama mirrored hers with Gao Qunshu.

Regardless of Yan Li’s personal moral code—though he might be flirtatious, he never touched the women of his friends or colleagues; Gao had treated him well, and he wouldn’t betray that trust.

Even if his relationship with Gao Qunshu was merely average, he wouldn’t steal someone else’s woman on their own turf.

Otherwise, if word got out, Gao could simply order it—and though Yan Li had a few tricks up his sleeve, he couldn’t withstand the pack of wolves and tigers that was the “Conquest” crew.

Of course, Liu Weiwei might not have been interested in Yan Li at all.

Maybe she was just naturally kind, or perhaps, against the backdrop of Sun Honglei and the others, Yan Li’s clean-cut looks simply appealed to her more.

It’s like a man seeing a pretty girl among a group of shrewish women—he’d naturally prefer to interact with her.

But no matter her intentions, Yan Li had no desire to get too close; compared to chatting with her, he’d rather watch Sun Honglei and the others act.

Having read the “Conquest” script, Yan Li fully approved of Gao Qunshu’s casting choices.

Da Peng was blunt, ruthless, and bold; Jin Bao was ruthless and bold too, but also sharp and capable—a perfect yin-yang pairing.

As for Sun Honglei’s Liu Huaqiang, his appearance was flawless—ferocious, cruel, yet coldly calculating.

What impressed Yan Li most was how well he captured the black boss’s aura: “about to move, but not yet; about to rage, but not yet.”

Watching him speak, he seemed casual and relaxed, yet always carried an underlying tension—the fear that he might suddenly erupt in violence.

Yan Li watched Sun Honglei’s performance, his eyes gleaming with eagerness.

On the “Sui and Tang Heroes” set, he’d acted alongside film and TV titans like Xie Junhao and Yang Shulin.

But due to script limitations, dialogue, and the director’s style, many actors held back, going through the motions—or even half-heartedly—and their actual skill was questionable.

To be honest, aside from a few special scenes, Yan Li hadn’t felt much acting pressure on the “Sui and Tang Heroes” set.

Pressure leads to growth!

Back in school, Yan Li loved rehearsing with the most skilled classmates—it sharpened him, challenged him, and made acting thrilling.

The performances and energy of the “Conquest” cast were excellent, especially Sun Honglei’s—he seemed fully unleashed.

Acting opposite such an actor, even if overwhelmed, would teach him plenty.

If he could withstand the pressure, push through, and gain insight, it might bring a massive leap and transformation to his own acting.

This “Conquest” set? He came to the right place!

(End of Chapter)