Chapter 57: “Farewell to the Underworld

By the river

Yu Yanli, dressed in ancient robes, bearded and haggard, limped to the riverbank and collapsed onto the ground.

Clutching several volumes of classical texts, he gently traced the covers with his fingers, then buried his face and wept bitterly, before letting out a mournful sigh.

“Ten years of cold window study—and now it’s all just a dream of millet.”

“I studied but never understood reason; I read but never grasped righteousness. I claimed to be a disciple of the sages, yet I never truly heeded their earnest teachings. This fate I now face is entirely my own doing—divine retribution.”

With that, Yu Yanli staggered to his feet, carefully placed the books down, and knelt to bow his head deeply to them.

Then he rose, straightened his robes, his gaze shifting from regret and sorrow to quiet resolve. He turned toward the river as the camera pulled steadily away.

“Good. Cut.”

The assistant director called out. Yu Yanli wiped his tears, then stepped out of frame.

A prop assistant picked up a stone and hurled it into the river; as the ripples still spread, the camera zoomed in for a close-up.

Normally, they could’ve just filmed a direct suicide-by-drowning shot.

But the director found it troublesome and felt the emptiness carried more emotion; Yu Yanli didn’t insist.

If the director wanted it shot, he’d comply; if not, he wouldn’t stubbornly push for it.

It was November now—cold, the river icy. He was strong, so he wouldn’t fall ill if he jumped in, but soaking in freezing water was no pleasure. Better to avoid the suffering if possible.

Though they didn’t film how he died, he was still dead—and Yu Yanli received a shock-compensation red envelope.

He was getting used to it: three roles, three deaths. He wondered when he’d ever play a character who lived to the final scene.

The envelope held five yuan—just enough for a bag of candied chestnuts from a vendor nearby. Yu Yanli bought one, planning to head to the makeup room to remove his makeup.

Though he’d just filmed a death scene, Yu Yanli hadn’t finished shooting yet.

He still had several scenes left where the Su siblings bullied him; only after those were filmed could he leave the “Jubao Pen” set.

On his way back, Yu Yanli encountered another filming unit from the same production.

The “Jubao Pen” crew typically split into two groups—one focused on the lead, the other on supporting roles—to speed up filming. This was also why Yu Yanli had been on set for barely a month and was nearly done.

Curious, Yu Yanli glanced over—and luck had it, they were filming another death scene.

The one dying was Fan Xiaopang’s character, Zhao Xuee!

In the plot of “Jubao Pen,” the villains led by Su Bancheng took advantage of Shen Wansan’s absence to scheme and cause chaos. The female lead, Lu Chunxiang, portrayed by Zhang Ting, rallied forces to resist them.

During the clash, someone ambushed Lu Chunxiang; Zhao Xuee stepped forward to shield her—and was stabbed to death.

To be honest, it was a bit rushed.

No choice: Lu Chunxiang was the true soulmate and partner of the male lead, Shen Wansan. Zhao Xuee’s role in the latter half of the story was utterly redundant.

To legitimize the true love ending between the leads, Zhao Xuee had to be killed off to make way.

Yu Yanli had planned to watch briefly and leave, but Fan Xiaopang spotted him and shot him a glare.

Since that gathering with Tong Mengji and Fan Xiaotian, Fan Xiaopang had slowly begun to sense the dynamic.

She disliked Yu Yanli; Yu Yanli seemed to dislike her too.

With others, Yu Yanli was charming, smooth-talking, and got along famously with many cast members.

But with her, he was half-hearted, even occasionally provoking her on purpose.

Fan Xiaopang couldn’t figure out what she’d done to offend this sycophant—so she concluded it was simply incompatible energy, inherently at odds.

Since they couldn’t stand each other, Fan Xiaopang had no intention of giving Yu Yanli a friendly face.

Sometimes she’d even gather cast members to gossip about Yu Yanli, trying to isolate him.

But it didn’t work. Yu Yanli was sweet-tongued, well-liked, and expertly played the innocent, harmless fool—easily dismantling Fan Xiaopang’s “Anti-Yu Plan.”

Some even began to think Fan Xiaopang was unfairly targeting Yu Yanli, mistreating the newcomer.

As a result, after labels like “Sycophant,” “Smiling Tiger,” “Lackey,” “Stingy Bastard,” and “Son of a Bitch,” Fan Xiaopang added one more: “Scheming Man.”

No matter how much she cursed inwardly, after several minor clashes, Fan Xiaopang had gained nothing—and occasionally ended up humiliated.

Now, all she could do was glare.

And because of that glare, Yu Yanli immediately abandoned his plan to leave—he stayed on purpose to help out.

When filming resumed, Yu Yanli sat beside them, legs crossed, smiling as he peeled and ate candied chestnuts, watching Fan Xiaopang, drenched in fake blood, get “stabbed.”

Honestly? It was kind of fun.

Especially when he saw Fan Xiaopang, dead on the ground, eyes wide with fury, her chestnuts tasted even sweeter.

Zhang Ting hugged the “dead” Fan Xiaopang and wept for a moment—scene complete. Fan Xiaopang was officially done shooting.

Yu Yanli clapped along with the crowd, then slipped away while Fan Xiaopang was surrounded by crew celebrating her wrap—saving himself from her trying to snatch his chestnuts.

But you can run for now—you can’t run forever.

After removing his makeup and changing clothes, Yu Yanli stepped out of the makeup room—and ran straight into Fan Xiaopang.

The timing was too perfect. He briefly suspected she’d been waiting there, just for him.

Because the moment she saw him, she launched into a huge, clinging hug, rubbing against him, refusing to let go.

“I’m leaving soon—I’m going to miss you so much.”

After finally breaking free, Yu Yanli looked down at his clothes, now splattered with “blood” from Fan Xiaopang’s drenched costume, and forced a tight smile.

“I’m going to miss you too.”

Having finally gotten the last word, Fan Xiaopang’s smile this time was genuinely bright.

“See you (never again).”

“Bye (good riddance).”

————

A few days later, Yu Yanli wrapped and left the set. Before departing, he signed a contract with Su Shi Funa for another project.

It was the sequel to “Spring Light Shines on Zhu Bajie,” tentatively titled “Fortune Smiles on Zhu Bajie.”

But the production was still in pre-production; they’d only assigned Yu Yanli a role, and which one exactly remained unclear.

Yu Yanli had read the script outline and wanted to play Niu Mowang.

“Fortune Smiles on Zhu Bajie” had an anthology structure: the main plot split into three stories, with Zhu Bajie as the absolute lead, but each episode had its own “protagonist.”

Niu Mowang was the “protagonist” of the episode “Three Strikes Against the Love-Struck Niu Mowang”—significant screen time, and a standout character design.

But Yu Yanli wasn’t sure if he’d land this key role. Neither Funa nor Mengji had given him a clear answer.

Yu Yanli planned to spend more time cultivating his relationship with Mengji.

Funa’s boss, Fan Xiaotian, held high status, was surrounded by sycophants, and was based in Suzhou—hard for Yu Yanli to build connections.

Mengji didn’t film much and lived in Beijing; he owed Yu Yanli a favor—easier to approach.

Though Mengji wasn’t as powerful as Fan, he was the director of “Fortune Smiles on Zhu Bajie.” If he supported Yu Yanli, the role was practically his.

Late November, Yu Yanli returned to Beijing.

Dong Xuan was still on the “Snow Goddess Dragon” set; Qin Lan had taken a Qing-dynasty drama called “The Court of Righteous Heaven” and had left Beijing.

But Yu Yanli wasn’t lonely—his roommates Zhou Yiwei, Zhang Songwen, and Lin Jiachuan were all in Beijing now.

There was also Tong Dawei, who had shaken off Shi Laoban’s shadow and wanted to win back Guan Yue—so he was scheming to use Yu Yanli and Dong Xuan as indirect pathways.

Before Yu Yanli even arrived in Beijing, Tong Dawei was already calling, inviting him to dinner, claiming he’d introduce him to a “powerful person.”

Though Tong Dawei kept teasing, Yu Yanli already knew through his system who this “powerful person” was.

Wang Jing—the number one talent agent in mainland China!

(End of Chapter)