Chapter 99

In the days leading up to "Emperor Wu of Han," Yan Li's scenes were primarily focused on Huo Qubing's individual storylines.

On one hand, it was to help him find the character's state; on the other, the lead actor Chen Baoguo's schedule was too packed, and group scenes required coordination.

So Yan Li first shot most of Huo Qubing's individual scenes, then later filmed the scenes with Chen Baoguo and the group scenes together.

This kind of multi-episode historical epic was far more complex in terms of specific shooting and progress management than Yan Li had originally imagined.

He had thought that after finishing the scenes at Hengdian, he would go directly to the grasslands to shoot, then wrap up.

Now it seemed the grassland scenes might not align smoothly with his schedule; perhaps Yan Li would finish shooting at Hengdian, leave the set for a while, then return to the grasslands once part of the crew relocated there.

The initial estimate had been to reserve two months, but the "Emperor Wu of Han" crew hadn't guaranteed those two months would be consecutive.

No wonder they were hiring newcomers—two months of availability, possibly with a break in between, plus prep time, added up to nearly half a year.

Young stars with fame and no shortage of roles might not even be interested in such a supporting part—or have this kind of availability.

Yan Li felt he'd boarded a pirate ship, but since he'd already started shooting, he couldn't run away.

Moreover, for Yan Li, shooting in segments, pausing, then shooting again actually made it easier to handle other matters—just meant traveling back and forth twice.

Besides daily shooting, Yan Li was also carefully observing how the "Emperor Wu of Han" crew operated.

To be honest, he had experience with filming and distribution, but behind-the-scenes production, coordination, and crew scheduling were an entirely different matter.

With such a large-scale production as "Emperor Wu of Han," the behind-the-scenes team worked with默契 and professionalism—he could learn from them, and when he eventually led his own project, he'd know exactly where to focus.

So the "Emperor Wu of Han" crew members found it strange.

Yan Li, an actor, didn't hang out with other actors during breaks; instead, he kept hovering around them.

He freely handed out Yuxi cigarettes and asked endless questions.

When someone asked him why, Yan Li replied that acting was a hard road—he was keeping a backup plan, in case he ever couldn't make it as an actor, he'd switch to behind-the-scenes work.

As the lead actor, Yan Li's status was special; crew members naturally gave him some leeway, and since he was skilled at socializing and generous with his spending, he quickly bonded with many people.

Especially several capable assistant directors, cinematographers, sound engineers, and art department staff—he even invited them out for drinks and fun.

In less than a week, several of them were already calling him "Brother Li."

"Something's off. Definitely something's off."

The crew wasn't short of smart people; for instance, the other assistant director, Han Xiaojun, noticing Yan Li's unusual behavior, began asking Li Xing, who was close to Yan Li, for information.

"Little Yan? He's a good guy—he told me he's considering moving behind the scenes. It's only natural."

It's incredibly hard to break through in acting!

Every year, hundreds of graduates from major art schools flood the industry; countless others from outside the circle or as extras also strive to make it.

But how many new actors actually become famous—or even just slightly known—each year?

To make a living, most minor actors switch careers or turn to behind-the-scenes work; everyone's long been used to this.

But Han Xiaojun felt it wasn't that simple.

Yan Li himself had excellent conditions and was already starring in "Emperor Wu of Han"—his career prospects were promising.

And given Yan Li's generous nature and confident demeanor, Han Xiaojun suspected he might be a rich kid just experiencing life—there was no sign of a struggling, down-on-his-luck actor forced into behind-the-scenes work. Why rush to find another path?

"I'm quite interested in this guy. Can you help me introduce myself to him?"

Han Xiaojun's mind turned, and he proposed to actively get to know Yan Li.

Hearing this, Li Xing narrowed his eyes slightly—he knew Han Xiaojun well; he'd worked with Director Hu Mei even longer than Li Xing had, and was even more valued.

As an assistant director, Li Xing's role was mainly to assist the director on set and coordinate departments—in short, he was just an assistant.

Han Xiaojun, besides these duties, also handled some executive director tasks, occasionally independently directing less important scenes.

Originally, Li Xing had only been slightly curious about Yan Li's behavior and hadn't taken it seriously—but Han Xiaojun's move instantly woke him up.

Though uncertain about Yan Li's true situation, he knew proximity gave advantage—he'd met Yan Li first, so he shouldn't let Han Xiaojun reap all the benefits.

So Li Xing casually made up an excuse and brushed off the matter.

But Han Xiaojun wasn't someone to be easily thwarted; if Li Xing helped with the introduction, fine—but even without him, Han Xiaojun had other ways to meet Yan Li.

…

Qin Palace, side hall

Today's scene depicted Prince Huainan and his son conspiring to rebel, while Emperor Wu was away on tour; fearing the rebels might take advantage, he sent Huo Qubing to deliver an imperial edict, rebuke them, and distract them with minor matters.

Prince Huainan and his son, guilty at heart, heard the imperial envoy had arrived and secretly prepared an ambush, planning to strike first if things turned suspicious.

But they didn't expect Emperor Wu had sent Huo Qubing, his close aide—the father and son were intimidated by Huo's aura and deceived by the edict's content, dared not move, and obediently awaited reprimand.

This scene was deliberately designed to highlight Huo Qubing's courage and integrity.

Knowing full well the Prince Huainan and his son were plotting treason, he dared to enter their camp alone, pointing directly at their noses to rebuke them—truly a young hero.

The crew began filming.

Yan Li, as Huo Qubing, still wore his long hair tied in a crown, clad in armor with a crimson cloak draped over it, holding the imperial edict in his left hand, resting his right on his sword, flanked by two Yulin guards, striding forward with imperial bearing from the center of the hall.

As soon as he entered, Huo Qubing sensed something amiss, slightly turned his head, then continued calmly forward, stopping at the hall's center, gazing sternly at Prince Huainan, his voice clear and powerful.

"Imperial attendant Huo Qubing, commissioned by His Majesty, comes to question Your Highness. Prince Huainan Liu An, receive the edict."

Prince Huainan did not dare delay; he put down his scepter and rose to stand respectfully.

Huo Qubing, holding the edict with both hands, stepped to the upper position, turned around, stood tall, his features cold and sharp, then raised his voice again.

"Imperial edict!"

Prince Huainan knelt and bowed to receive it. Huo Qubing did not speak immediately; instead, he scanned left and right, loudly asking:

"Is Crown Prince Liu Qian present?"

Prince Huainan hesitated slightly, remaining silent. Huo Qubing's gaze was like a blade, his voice sharp as metal, and he raised his voice again:

"Prince Huainan—is Crown Prince Liu Qian present?"

Feeling the pressure, the Crown Prince emerged from behind the concealed screen and knelt to answer.

"Your subject, Liu Qian, is here."

Huo Qubing nodded in satisfaction, unfurled the imperial edict, and reprimanded Prince Huainan and his son, demanding they not obstruct local officials or servants from traveling to Chang'an to enlist.

Only then did Prince Huainan and his son understand why the imperial envoy had come—both startled and relieved.

"Prince Huainan, please rise."

Huo Qubing spoke, instructing him to rise; Prince Huainan was helped up by his son, his inner emotions surging as he gazed at the sharp, brilliant youth before him, and asked:

"You are Huo Qubing?"

Huo Qubing replied calmly and respectfully: "Indeed."

Prince Huainan recalled his earlier conduct—the boy, so young, arriving at the Wang Fu with only two attendants to rebuke him and his son, radiating an unyielding aura and fierce ambition—and could not help but praise Huo Qubing.

"Truly, your eyes blaze with brilliance—you are destined for nobility."

Huo Qubing did not rejoice at the compliment, responded politely, then calmly departed with his attendants.

…

"Good, passed."

After days on set, Yan Li, who had prepared thoroughly, grew increasingly adept at portraying Huo Qubing—courageous, decisive, yet retaining youthful vigor.

As screenwriter Jiang Qitao, who had watched his performance, put it: "His bearing is vigorous, his momentum unstoppable."

For actors, filming goes smoothly and quickly when they accurately capture the character's state and avoid basic mistakes like continuity errors or forgetting lines.

Since joining the set, Yan Li had missed curfew only once—and the cause lay entirely with his co-actor.

After finishing this scene, Yan Li had another scene that night, but he wasn't in a hurry.

He was just about to chat with a couple of crew members when Han Xiaojun approached voluntarily.

"Teacher Yan, you performed exceptionally well just now."

"Don't call me teacher."

Yan Li politely deflected; he wasn't surprised Han Xiaojun had come to him—days earlier, the system had already alerted him that this man was curious about him.

In fact, Yan Li was slightly surprised Han Xiaojun had waited this long to speak up.

But considering today's shoot—the original line director suddenly couldn't come, replaced by Han Xiaojun—it was clear he'd been seeking this opportunity for days, elevating himself, demonstrating his value.

A regular assistant director seeking to befriend you is one thing; an assistant director who just directed you in a scene carries far more weight.

Yan Li didn't mind such calculations—he actually admired them.

Ambition is good; those eager to rise have drive, and once they see the prospect, they charge ahead like wolves.

In contrast, Li Xing, even after sensing something was off, still held back, hesitated, and clumsily tried to get close—this was a minus in Yan Li's eyes.

But Li Xing had his advantage: youth and strong ability.

Han Xiaojun, aside from good instincts, had only average competence; without greater seniority, he might never have surpassed Li Xing.

But Han Xiaojun was lucky—Yan Li currently had no one under him, so he wasn't picky; if the man was decent, Yan Li was willing to give him a chance.

One was eager, the other willing!

Yan Li treated Han Xiaojun to dinner, briefly introduced himself, and the assistant director of "Emperor Wu of Han" had already begun calling him "Li Ge."

Though Han Xiaojun was much older, this "Ge" wasn't about seniority—it meant "Big Brother."

As previously noted, the entertainment industry at this stage carried strong gang-like overtones.

Actors struggled to break through; behind-the-scenes staff struggled even more. One shortcut to rising was to take a Big Brother, gain his favor and promotion.

Thus, during this period and for many years after, many film studio bosses carried a "Big Brother aura"—high status and prestige, strong influence and charisma, with a band of followers relying on them for livelihood.

But Yan Li wasn't interested in this system—he was doing business, not joining a gang.

For younger people he was close to, calling him "Ge" was fine; but Han Xiaojun, older and not yet familiar, was too much.

"Call me Yan Zong in private. I don't want to draw attention—just use my name on set."

…

Back on set, Yan Li saw Li Xing staring at him with a resentful look, like a deserted woman.

Yan Li felt a chill: "Li Ge, can you act normal?"

But by accident, after being spurred by Han Xiaojun, Li Xing—who had previously been hesitant and reluctant—finally made up his mind; his attitude toward Yan Li became much warmer, tinged with two parts flattery and respect.

From then on, Yan Li never heard Li Xing call him "Xiao Yan" again.

At first, Li Xing used vague terms; later, after overhearing Han Xiaojun privately address Yan Li as "Yan Zong," he began using it too.

Compared to Han Xiaojun, Yan Li trusted and valued Li Xing more—he was more capable and better understood.

Once, Yan Li took leave and brought him to Hengdian to sign a contract with the "Detective Di Renjie" crew.

Afterwards, Yan Li explicitly indicated he was considering appointing Li Xing as co-producer for "Detective Di Renjie," as his representative.

Seeing a genuine film project with tens of millions in investment, the other producer being CCTV, and the allure of the producer title, Li Xing immediately bowed his head in submission.

After that, Li Xing resigned from the "Emperor Wu of Han" set, took two trusted assistants, and threw himself into overseeing "Detective Di Renjie."

With Li Xing's example, Han Xiaojun grew even more eager to curry favor with Yan Li—but Yan Li remained exceptionally low-key on set.

He couldn't afford to be otherwise: he was filming under someone's direction, yet before shooting was even finished, he'd poached their key assistant.

This was frankly unscrupulous—Director Hu Mei had given Yan Li, a newcomer, considerable trust.

But he had no choice—Yan Li was desperately short of personnel, so he'd make an exception this time and compensate Director Hu Mei later.

As for Han Xiaojun and other behind-the-scenes staff, they'd have to wait—at least until "Emperor Wu of Han" wrapped.

Yan Li had inquired: this group, including Han Xiaojun, weren't truly Hu Mei's people—just those who'd collaborated with her more often.

This was industry norm: most crew members rarely signed formal contracts or received fixed salaries.

Usually, they formed small groups of a few or a dozen people, led by one, constantly seeking jobs across sets.

When a director or producer needed to assemble a crew, they'd call a few familiar faces; if available, they'd come.

If a director felt a good chemistry, he'd reuse them next time—convenient, effortless; the team preferred sticking with one director, avoiding constant scrambling for work.

With repeated collaboration, some became the director's core crew—but they had no formal affiliation; they followed the director when he had work, but took outside jobs when he didn't.

So as long as they finished filming "Emperor Wu of Han," Yan Li's use of these people wouldn't count much as poaching, and even if it did, the impact on Hu Mei wouldn't be significant.

Under Han Xiaojun's care, combined with Yan Li's own role having considerable status and his generally low-key demeanor.

His life on the set of "Emperor Wu of Han" was quite comfortable.

Every day he filmed, practiced horseback riding, observed shooting and crew operations, occasionally took out a few close crew members for gatherings, and when idle, teased Lin Jing.

Then he watched the male lead, Chen Baoguo, suffer through endless filming!

The weather was scorching hot; Chen Baoguo wore a wig and thick costume every day, sweating through his underclothes from the heat.

Emperor Wu's scenes were heavy—he filmed at least several hours daily, and with waiting, scene transitions, and makeup time, it stretched even longer.

With heavy workloads, insufficient rest, and his advanced age, every day after removing his makeup and finishing work, Chen Baoguo felt as if he'd lost half his life.

Because of his misery, Yan Li even briefly thought playing a supporting role wasn't so bad—at least it wasn't this exhausting……

(End of Chapter)