Chapter 6: Starting Out: Partnering with a Golden Horse Actor and a Flying Apsaras Actor

【Daily Info 1: Zhang Songwen, Zhou Yiwei, and Lin Jiachuan discussed last night in the dormitory and unanimously agreed that their roommate Yan Li is loyal and kind-hearted—no better friend or brother to have. The only criticism? His romantic luck is too strong…】

【……】

【Daily Info 3: Dong Xuan still doesn’t want to break up; her threats to end the relationship and cold silences are meant to manipulate Yan Li, making him more obedient in the future.】

【……】

【Daily Info 5: Zhang Zhengyong, who plays Shi Danai in “Heroes of the Sui and Tang Dynasties,” originally wanted the role of Yuwen Chengdu but lost it to Yan Li, who secured the part through assistant director Wang Decai, sparking resentment toward Yan Li (note: Zhang Zhengyong has trained in sanshou for years and won an amateur championship).】

【……】

【Daily Info 7: Xie Junhao, who portrays Emperor Yang Guang in “Heroes of the Sui and Tang Dynasties,” is introverted and highly professional (details)………】

【……】

【Daily Info 9: Huang Shengyi was reminded yesterday of sweet memories of her senior Yan Li coaching her on kissing scenes, triggered by her roommate’s romantic relationship…】

【……】

After his daily morning routine, Yan Li checked the system’s intelligence reports.

Today’s report had ten entries, but half were useless or trivial, so he skimmed them quickly.

Info 1—the brothers’ behind-the-back meeting—didn’t concern Yan Li; after all, this wasn’t just gossip whispered in private, it was also said to his face, and Zhang Songwen and Zhou Yiwei had already discussed it directly with him.

Info 3 was the key reason Yan Li remained calm about his breakup with his ex-girlfriend Dong Xuan.

He saw through her every move; with absolute advantage on his side, there was no rush.

Info 5 and Info 7 were the most important to Yan Li.

Especially Info 5—a potential enemy who was also a martial artist. Yan Li even considered asking the prop master for a short staff or dagger for self-defense.

Info 7 mainly helped Yan Li understand actor Xie Junhao better, since the character he portrayed, Yang Guang, was one of Yan Li’s most frequent scene partners.

Notably, the “(details)” mentioned in the report, Yan Li opened and scanned briefly.

It included Xie Junhao’s place of origin, resume, personality traits, preferences, social connections, and a few personal privacy details.

Yan Li called this type of intelligence 【Character Intelligence】—a rare and valuable category, detailed and comprehensive, with extremely low output volume.

Yan Li had received the system for several months and, including this one on Xie Junhao, had only obtained three Character Intelligence reports total.

One of them was Wang Decai; Yan Li used this advantage to build a relationship with him, which got him onto the “Heroes of the Sui and Tang Dynasties” set.

So Yan Li felt a bit disappointed—Xie Junhao’s data wasn’t particularly useful to him.

If this Character Intelligence had targeted a producer or director—the real power players—he might have secured his next role before filming ended.

As for Info 9, Yan Li still insisted that coaching on kissing scenes was still acting guidance—“the pure remain pure…”

…

After washing up and heading downstairs for breakfast, he’d inquired yesterday—the crew provided breakfast, but you had to pick it up on set.

Today had no scenes in the morning, so Yan Li didn’t bother saving a meal by traveling far—he just grabbed breakfast at a nearby stall.

Then, back to the same small grove as yesterday, same routine: practicing fist forms and memorizing lines.

After just two rounds of fist forms, Yan Li spotted the long-haired girl again—same T-shirt and jeans, but today’s pants were tighter, accentuating her long, slender legs.

Seeing Yan Li again, she looked surprised, then smiled and waved.

“Good morning.”

“Hello.”

Yan Li nodded in greeting, didn’t chat further; with yesterday’s groundwork, he felt less awkward and simply continued his practice.

The girl paused, watched with interest for a while, then left for her usual spot, headphones on, reading or memorizing her script.

Today was overcast, so she stayed longer—until eleven, when Yan Li’s stomach growled and he was about to pack up, he saw the long-haired girl returning past him.

“Leaving?”

“Yeah, I have scenes this afternoon.”

Of course she was an actress—Yan Li wasn’t surprised, exchanged a few casual words, then parted ways.

But he was surprised to learn she was from the “My Fair Princess 3” crew.

Earlier newspapers said “My Fair Princess 3” was filming in Yangzhou—how did they end up in Hengdian?

Hmm, maybe the crew was split—one group in Yangzhou, another in Hengdian.

Just like the “Heroes of the Sui and Tang Dynasties” crew: Group A films Qin Qiong selling his horse, Group B films the Sui imperial palace—no overlap, double efficiency.

After lunch, Yan Li got his makeup and costume, then went to Group B to wait for filming.

Today he had only two scenes, but no lines or close-ups—basically just background filler for Yang Guang and others, with two brief lines at the end.

“Teacher Xie, I’m Yan Li, playing Yuwen Chengdu.”

“Hello, Teacher Yang, I’m Yan Li, fresh out of Beijing Film Academy, playing your son Yuwen Chengdu in the drama—please take care of me.”

“Xie” was Xie Junhao; before joining the set, Yan Li had watched his acclaimed film “South Sea Thirteen,” for which he won the Golden Horse Award, making him one of the most prestigious actors on the entire crew.

“Yang” was Yang Shulin, who portrayed Yuwen Chengdu’s father, Yuwen Huaji.

This actor had no fame, and Yan Li didn’t know him—he asked Wang Decai and realized he’d failed to recognize a giant.

Just in May, Yang Shulin had won the new Flying Apsaras Award for Best Actor for the TV series “Public Servant.”

Holy hell—a Golden Horse Actor and a Flying Apsaras Actor. These two powerhouse scene partners put immense pressure on the newcomer Yan Li.

Xie Junhao rarely spoke—partly due to personality, partly because his Mandarin was poor.

He even spoke Cantonese on set, but Yan Li had watched many Cantonese films, and his roommate Zhang Songwen was from Guangdong, so he’d practiced listening to him—enough to grasp the gist.

Still, Yan Li planned to review Xie’s lines again while memorizing his script.

Otherwise, if he didn’t understand a line, he might misreact and ruin the scene.

Xie Junhao was a Golden Horse Actor—he could speak Cantonese without caring if his scene partner understood. Yan Li, a newcomer, couldn’t afford too many retakes.

In contrast, Yang Shulin was much friendlier—he chatted warmly with Yan Li and gave him tips on set protocols and procedures.

Every crew, even every director, had their own on-set habits—blocking, rehearsing, shooting, breaks—all varied. Learning more helped Yan Li integrate faster and more smoothly.

Before filming, they rehearsed the scene: Yang Guang killing his brother and taking his wife.

The plot: Yang Guang had previously framed the Crown Prince, seized the throne, but his lust exposed his true nature, enraging Emperor Yang Jian, who planned to depose him.

The news leaked. Yang Guang, seizing the moment, launched a palace coup.

Before the coup, he first murdered his deposed brother—and, in a twisted act, publicly humiliated the deposed Crown Prince’s wife right before his eyes.

Yuwen Huaji sat nearby. Yan Li, as the physical powerhouse, ordered men to pin down the deposed Crown Prince, then personally strangled him with a silk sash, tightening relentlessly.

Yang Guang fondled the struggling Crown Princess, occasionally taunting the already half-dead Crown Prince.

“Brother, don’t worry—after you’re gone, I’ll take excellent care of your wife.”

“My breathing is labored, but if my sister-in-law soothes me, I’ll feel much better.”

“…”

Yan Li had read the lines before, but now, actually performing them, he couldn’t help but marvel.

This damn screenwriter must’ve written porn before!

Xie Junhao, true to his Golden Horse status, portrayed Yang Guang’s decadence and cruelty perfectly—and crucially, without being lewd.

That was rare!

Yan Li had similar scenes himself and had been studying them for days, so he understood the weight of Xie’s performance.

On the way back after work, Yan Li kept thinking about how Xie achieved it.

Only before sleep did he begin to grasp the method.

Others playing such scenes leaned into the sexual, imagining themselves as perverts.

But Xie Junhao didn’t play a pervert—he played Yang Guang.

Yang Guang was lustful and decadent, but women to him were prey and playthings—not objects of carnal release, but sources of pleasure from hunting, conquering, and absolute domination.

Combined with Yang Guang’s status and Xie’s personal aura, most viewers would find him monstrous, deranged, terrifying—but never sleazy.

Yan Li wanted to achieve this too—but then he recalled the plot and lines for Yuwen Chengdu’s scene, and realized he couldn’t follow Xie’s approach.

Even if Yuwen Chengdu handed the heroine over to his men to rape, Yan Li could still portray him as cold-blooded and ruthless.

But Yuwen Chengdu personally led the line—and waited for days. No matter how deeply he dug into the character’s psyche, it wouldn’t work…

(End of Chapter)