Chapter 160: What Tremendous Passion!
[“Since we’ve divided high and low, let’s also decide life and death.”]
Wei Yu’s portrayal of Feng Yuxiu had a gaze that was obsessive and fervent, the nearly manic smile at the corner of his mouth sending chills down spines.
The leg techniques he used were not mere flashy displays of skill, but filled with raw killing intent, each kick aimed straight at vital points, cunning and ruthless.
Gasps of cold air could be heard from the audience seats from time to time, everyone watching in stunned silence; they had never imagined fight scenes could be filmed so realistically and oppressively, as if it wasn’t a performance but a real life-and-death struggle.
After reading the latest chapter of Yu Wei’s novel, everyone had only one thought.
Isn’t this kid bragging too much?
What kind of fight scene could be called cunning, ruthless life-and-death combat? If this description were in old kung fu films, they would believe it.
Aren’t modern action films just special effects free-for-alls?
Leaving aside whether it can be filmed, looking at the novel’s situation, could Yu Wei actually know kung fu…
You know, the protagonist in Yu Wei’s novel is basically synced with him; whether singing, acting, or even playing piano, it’s all perfectly replicated.
This movie’s protagonist, played by Wei Yu, is the most skilled fighter, so does that mean Yu Wei will have to play a martial arts-obsessed killer when his turn comes?
Doesn’t seem like it, no matter how you look at it.
In everyone’s eyes, Yu Wei isn’t exactly a clown, but he’s the amiable and approachable type, an interesting soul, a multifaceted mischief maker.
Saying he has good acting skills and can portray that crazy vibe, everyone could even believe it, after all, his exquisite acting in Sound Mixer is obvious to all.
But saying he knows kung fu, everyone would absolutely not believe it; kung fu stars are either from Shaolin Temple or martial arts competition champions.
Yu Wei, an idol trainee who was nearly the seventh member to get kicked out, what does he have to learn kung fu with? His three-legged-cat dance foundation?
Ever since becoming popular, Yu Wei’s other business capabilities are beyond doubt: singing, instruments, acting, even story creation ability is impeccable.
Only his physical coordination is really nothing special; take his debut disbandment night, for example—though one Heart Wall successfully made him stand out, his two group dances were truly average.
Average is putting it kindly with rose-tinted glasses; objectively speaking, it’s completely uncoordinated limbs, movements are correct but look awkward.
Netizens jokingly call it robot level.
This isn’t derogatory; everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Maybe with Yu Wei’s creation ability maxed out, he truly has no talent in action.
If simple dances are already like this, martial arts goes without saying; they’d rather believe Yu Wei could win a Nobel Prize than believe he knows kung fu.
At least he’s a proper writer, but kung fu… completely unrelated to him.
Yu Wei read the book friends’ comments and was dumbfounded—slander, he’d sue the readers for slander! Who has uncoordinated limbs? Without any dance foundation, jumping straight on stage and doing well would be the surprise.
The internet has too good a memory; those two dances are among the few black history moments for Yu Wei after going viral, occasionally used by netizens as oni material.
He’s okay with it; occasionally scrolling videos and seeing “Little Yu learns dance” feels pretty fun.
“Saying I have uncoordinated limbs, I really need to show you all something.”
After A Lone Man’s Martial World went on sale in the novel, it had already met the redeem requirements. Yu Wei opened the panel, looked at the new exchange data, and fell into thought.
[Redeem requirement: Monthly ticket count greater than 10000 this month.]
Finally here—this was the first time after going on sale that monthly ticket data was randomly drawn. Monthly tickets are one of the most distinctive data types on Qidian, reflecting a work’s popularity and reader recognition.
Though there are many fakes, 99% on the list are well-deserved; for novels, it still has reference value.
His book had finally reached the point of needing monthly tickets…
For Yu Wei’s current novel data, 10,000 monthly tickets is actually manageable; mainly it’s the first time encountering it, and the data requirement isn’t high—he already had tens of thousands of tickets, so he simply redeemed the movie.
Actually, his monthly ticket count should logically be higher, but his update volume is too low; readers don’t have enough subscriptions or tickets to spend.
After all, most of his readers are gossip-chasing new users who don’t read other books on the platform, so spending tickets naturally isn’t easy.
Looks like if monthly ticket data is needed in the future, he’ll have to try updating more.
With eight o’clock approaching, Yu Wei simply silenced his mobile phone and buckled down to writing; he could skip this episode of the program.
……
“I want to see what this kid has to win with.”
At 7:50 PM, Chen Jinyi had already turned the living room into a perfect viewing area.
She carefully placed various snacks and fruit on the coffee table, fluffed the sofa cushions to soft comfort, and even dimmed the lights to create a mini home theater atmosphere.
This episode of the program wasn’t simple for Chen Jinyi… her son used her dad’s song in the competition and still lost; how could she feel okay about that.
It felt like three generations of grandsons couldn’t beat one of theirs.
“Don’t worry, Mom, it’s well-deserved; you’ll know after listening.”
An An was squatting by the coffee table eating watermelon; as long as the rose-tinted glasses aren’t too thick, listening to the two songs makes it easy to draw a conclusion.
Call her partial if you want, but with so many on-site audience members preferring Yu Wei’s song, it just means everyone’s eyes are bright.
“You admit you went to the site?”
Chen Jinyi gave her a half-smiling glance, successfully making An An feel guilty, forcing her to confess without reservation about going to the site for the program.
“Yutong took me!”
“Mom, you know me—I originally didn’t want to go, but when I heard big bro was there, I decided to set aside prejudices and go cheer for him.”
Chen Jinyi smiled gently, already having guessed the gist.
She didn’t understand Shen Yutong? Did she not know what her own daughter was like? Supporting her big bro—unless the sun rose from the west.
Probably went to see Yu Wei…
Given Chen Jinyi’s understanding of her daughter, a program with Qi Yuan was like deadly poison; for her to brave that poison to go on-site showed how much she cared about Yu Wei.
A grown daughter can’t be kept at home.
Fine, fine, Yu Wei this kid, beating her son and her dad wasn’t enough, now he wants to steal her daughter too—is he afraid her days are too smooth?
“Has the program started?”
Qi Yunming strolled out from the study, looking quite decadent overall; if not for his clean loungewear, he’d look like a vagrant.
The mother and daughter were long used to this, so there was nothing to say; this appearance of his was either too much company work or fishing buddies’ photos had pissed him off.
At exactly eight, the sixth episode of Music Blind Box aired on schedule; the host, as always, controlled the scene, having the four guests pick blind boxes in turn.
“An An, what does it feel like to be a blind box?”
Chen Jinyi suddenly probed, her tone carrying some teasing; they hadn’t properly chatted about it since An An finished the program—today was a good chance to talk face-to-face.
“It’s… very novel.”
An An seemed to have lost all strength and tactics; she didn’t dare lie in front of her mom and could only beat around the bush.
Her little cleverness came from her mom—those petty thoughts couldn’t fool her at all.
“Not the kind where you wrap yourself as a gift waiting for someone to unwrap, right?”
An An’s mind shook at the words—what, what was that? Would any mom describe her daughter like this?
Qi Yunming on the side ignored it completely, just lying sideways quietly watching the program—nothing worth responding to, an old improper one birthed a little improper one.
Seeing Qi Yuan draw the farmer contestant, Qi Yunming and Chen Jinyi didn’t react much; it was good for the child to get some exercise.
They had both endured hardships, especially Qi Yunming—he nearly starved to death as a kid, so he naturally wouldn’t look down on those who work hard.
Drawing this one was their son’s good fortune.
When they saw Qi Yuan, clumsy as he was, still breaking corn cobs, they actually felt a bit comforted.
Looks like their son had grown.
Many viewers in front of the screen also gained some fondness for Qi Yuan upon seeing this; in this era, especially among the young, few can stay grounded.
He might not qualify as a talented person yet, but he’s already on the right path, which is rare.
Even many Qi Yuan fans who saw this wanted to come back; don’t underestimate the killing power of a white moonlight, especially one that’s improved.
The scene then cut to Yu Wei; everyone saw him writing in a truck, not stopping even on repeatedly bumpy roads.
“Does he write every day over in Leuven too?”
Chen Jinyi asked with interest.
This kid is truly odd; playing on a mobile phone in a car, especially on bumpy mountain roads, makes one dizzy—writing under those conditions is beyond mere love.
This should be called treating writing as life.
“Of course, he buckles down for a few hours every day.”
For Yu Wei, An An knew it like the back of her hand; not to mention how long he writes, she even knew exactly what posture he uses and how often he rubs his hands.
“So focused on him?”
Chen Jinyi was still probing; she didn’t oppose her daughter dating, but as a mom, she didn’t want her to lose her head.
No matter what, they should be familiar enough first.
How could she not pay attention—they write facing each other, but An An obviously couldn’t say that out loud; the more acquaintances know about novel writing, the more awkward it gets.
She hadn’t even told Shen Yutong, let alone Dad and Mom; if they heard, they’d think it wasn’t serious work.
But they had all clearly underestimated Yu Wei’s “love” for writing, because that very night on the road, Yu Wei actually got up in the middle of the night to start writing.
When they saw the youth focused on typing under that camera shot, everyone was stunned…
The rundown guesthouse, dim lights, buzzing mosquitoes—the environment contrasted sharply with Yu Wei’s enthusiasm, the composition top tier.
At this moment, Yu Wei had a unique charm that made it impossible to look away; the shot was extremely simple, but no one had any intention of fast-forwarding.
In the end, it was the program team that chose to fast-forward; the night sky outside the window gradually brightened, but Yu Wei’s actions never changed.
He just sat there quietly typing, from night until dawn.
The program team used fast-forward to quickly show a whole night’s filming, also proving it wasn’t staged—he really wrote a whole night’s novel in that environment.
What level of dedication is this?
Forget the entertainment industry; even the web novel circle has few this serious—after all, Yu Wei isn’t short on money anymore; how many web novel authors keep their original intention after making it?
“Give the photographer a chicken leg; he left domestic entertainment with a god-tier photo.”
“Not just domestic entertainment—don’t forget Yu Wei made a name in the piano world too; those art types will love this photo even more.”
“Never saying Yu Wei writes crap again; this dedicated, even if it’s crap, I’ll devour every bit.”
An An browsed the forum while watching the program, screenshotting a few interesting comments along the way.
As the group admin of Yu Wei’s praise group, she’d definitely send these to Yu Wei later.
“What are you sneaking around for? The stage is about to start.”
“Coming.”
An An turned off her mobile phone, triggering her newly set wallpaper.
The screen’s faint glow pierced the darkness, illuminating dust particles floating in the air; the mottled wall’s mold spots were clear, Yu Wei sat quietly in the corner, fingertips flying across the keyboard.
