Chapter 35: The Three-day Deadline Has Arrived
Yu Wei was almost convinced by Qi Luo An.
It feels so reasonable… what’s going on…
Compared to him being chosen by heaven and possessing supernatural abilities, simply being a “psychological pervert” seems more convincing.
Logically speaking, not being detected for cheating should make Yu Wei grateful, but the idea of “intentionally fabricating history” really didn’t make him happy.
How was he intentionally tormenting readers? A failure due to pure lack of strength—how could that be called intentional?
But Yu Wei really had no way to refute it, just like seriously taking an exam and scoring a single digit, and the teacher saying your attitude was improper and you wrote randomly—then you can only muddle through.
Otherwise? Admit he’s pure trash?
Just like finishing a battle in three seconds, and your wife asking if it was intentional—then you really can only say it was intentional.
Otherwise? Admit you’re inadequate?
“Haha, you’ve discovered it.”
Qi Luo An neither confirmed nor denied it; it was all just because she took one extra glance at Yu Wei’s novel in the book group and commented “History.”
A professional history appraisal master must dare to make judgments.
“By the way, at school, do you have ample filming time?”
Yu Wei chose to indifferently change the topic; Qi Luo An wasn’t like them, these stars—going to school was her top priority.
“Summer vacation is starting soon.”
“Then your class this afternoon is… pre-exam Q&A, right.”
Qi Luo An nodded; this guy she couldn’t roast had really gone to university—regular classes could be skipped, but pre-exam Q&A couldn’t be missed.
“Tomorrow after the last exam, I can do unpaid labor for you in the afternoon.”
She emphasized “unpaid labor” heavily, and the gaze she directed at Yu Wei was slightly resentful; others did summer jobs to earn pocket money, while she was working overtime for free.
She’d gotten an early taste of college student employment reality.
It was only because of summer vacation that Qi Luo An agreed to help Yu Wei film; if it were during the school term, if her roommate saw the short film and MV, wouldn’t they stab her?
As for next semester, they’d talk about it next semester.
After bidding farewell to Qi Luo An, Yu Wei met with MV director Lu Zhou at the company—a middle-aged man with a beard and black-rimmed glasses, average-looking but in great spirits.
“Teacher Yu, thrilled to work with you!”
This was already the second time Yu Wei had been called teacher; these days, any tomcat or dog dared to call themselves teacher…
“Pleased to meet you, Teacher Lu.”
The filming plan discussion went smoothly, especially upon hearing that Yu Wei wanted to film some personal interest projects afterward; Lu Zhou even greatly appreciated it.
“Young people should pursue art; film it—we’ll film whatever you want to film.”
His face showed no reverence for art, only a desire to take on one more job and earn one more share of money…
Yu Wei was quite satisfied with this; people always have to seek something, especially when discussing cooperation—those motivated by money and profit are easier to talk to.
Those who seek neither money nor fame are the real trouble; human hearts are hard to fathom, like Qi Luo An’s type—Yu Wei didn’t even know what she was after…
It couldn’t be him personally, right.
…
“Not going to introduce her?”
On the day of MV recording, Zhang Lingye watched Qi Luo An, who was chatting happily and intimately with Yu Wei, and fell into thought.
He seemed to recall again that afternoon when they were practicing dance on stage and Yu Wei was clacking away typing in the corner.
At the time, everyone joked that the kid had something going on; unexpectedly, it was real?
“Ordinary friend; An An is fine.”
Ordinary friend—do ordinary friends huddle together looking at a mobile phone? He could even brain supplement the two savoring sweet evidence of shared experiences, with only the nearby warmth and heartbeat left…
Yu Wei becoming famous through talent was something he couldn’t envy, but this—he really envied!
As an idol, let alone a girlfriend, even chatting a few extra sentences with a female guest on a program would get him caught and scolded by female fans…
But Yu Wei, who blew up after disbandment, was different; his fans were relatively rational, mostly song fans.
Actually, Qi Luo An was just looking at the novel data on Yu Wei’s mobile phone and mocking him after witnessing his failure again.
After the clickbait fooled readers, Yu Wei had been temporarily abandoned by them; the few comments on each new chapter were still “burning incense” and “offering sacrifices,” showing how much they hated him.
Heartbreaker, should be executed.
Zhang Lingye didn’t know who Qi Luo An was, but Qi Luo An was all too familiar with him…
“Previously the most useful role, but fell to the gutter due to numerical inflation.”
Previously, Zhang Lingye was her “anti-Qi Yuan Noble Phantasm,” that is, an old bro stepping tool; later, he was overtaken by Qi Yuan, so she stopped using this role.
Now, just a warehouse manager—unfamiliar.
Yu Wei understood the implication in Qi Luo An’s words; others were manifesting dharma and crafting nukes by hand, while Zhang Lingye was still mindlessly launching heads…
For the originally planned old master role in the MV, Yu Wei had intended to just pull Hong Hui to fill in, but unfortunately the sound supervisor was too busy and couldn’t get away; the company had other artists too, and recording work still needed doing.
However, this role wasn’t a big deal; in the end, director Lu Zhou decided to cameo himself, which solved Yu Wei’s urgent problem.
The director doing two jobs himself—this money should be his to earn…
The official MV filming was more difficult than imagined because male lead actor Yu Wei was such a layman that even a simple eye contact could make him laugh during filming.
“You…?”
Qi Luo An, acting opposite him, was stunned—wasn’t it embarrassing for him to interview her acting skills at this level?
Her amateur acting skills, neglected for eight years, were still better than this guy’s.
“Sorry, sorry.”
Yu Wei was indeed a layman in this regard; he had perfectly mastered the song “Sound of Rain,” but that didn’t include the same-named MV.
Mastering the song naturally revolved around music; film acting skills would cost extra.
But Yu Wei didn’t mind much; the MV didn’t require any acting skills—just try a few more times to get it smooth; he wasn’t scared of the short film afterward.
So what if he sucked at laning; he was strong in team fights.
Thus, he successfully dragged down the filming progress single-handedly; Zhang Lingye and Lu Zhou were furious but didn’t dare speak up, while only Qi Luo An would occasionally sarcasm a few lines.
“Don’t you laugh out loud watching your own performance?”
“Your acting skills aren’t even as good as my neighbor grandma’s dishwasher.”
“Keep acting like this and I’ll find someone to mess you up.”
Three days passed in a flash; on the day the MV wrapped, Yu Wei even felt a sense of being in another world—this vase wasn’t easy to play either, especially when colleagues didn’t indulge you.
But he also learned a lot; this was solid personal hands-on experience, a breakthrough from 0 to 1.
After finishing the MV, Qi Luo An suddenly felt much more weathered…
Yu Wei being a layman was one thing, but crucially, Zhang Lingye and director Lu Zhou were shockingly bad too; she turned out to be the most professional on the whole set—who’d believe it?
Stage Three Battle Qi mistakenly entering a mortals’ game?
Even more painfully, the nightmare had just begun; the MV was just warm-up, and there was an even harder suspense short film afterward…
“Holy shit, awesome.”
After reading the script, Zhang Lingye was stunned; even without understanding deeper things, just the plot was enough to captivate him.
He didn’t know how his buddy’s brain was wired—good at writing songs was one thing, but how was he also so amazing at writing stories.
Could romance activate potential? Maybe he should try it too?
The story was too captivating; Zhang Lingye was excited for a while, then suddenly remembered his role was just a corpse…
Director Lu Zhou’s cameo was the male lead’s boss; as for the pretending to be blind blind male lead, it naturally could only be left to Yu Wei.
“This role, you…”
It wasn’t that they doubted Yu Wei; mainly his performance these past few days was too outrageous—acting a blind male lead was hard enough, let alone pretending to be blind.
Acting blind was the first layer; acting as acting blind was the second—not only performing the blindness side of the character in the play, but also his scheming and darkness in pretending not to know.
This kind of layered performance, let alone newcomers—even veteran actors might not grasp it; could Yu Wei pull it off?
Yu Wei said nothing, just silently took out sunglasses and put them on, cautiously extending his hands forward tentatively, his actions even carrying slight hesitation.
The three-day deadline had arrived! He was about to start performing.
Nearby, Qi Luo An watched closely; he even acted out the gaze—not only scattered eyes, but also perfectly controlled the blinking reaction.
Blind people move less; with Yu Wei’s appearance, those who didn’t know would think he was really blind.
Acting this well?
Watching Yu Wei’s cautious, trembling fingertip movements, Qi Luo An casually pulled out a fifty-cent coin and stuffed it into his hand.
