Chapter Ninety-Six: A Sudden Outburst of Brilliant Acting

The director clearly knew some inside story, and after hearing it he burst into hearty laughter.

“Since Director Ge has spoken, and with Miss Jin making a special appearance, I hereby announce a change to today’s shooting plan. Everybody get your respective sections moving. Let’s aim to wrap before six!”

His words were aimed at the majority of those present, drawing a chorus of cheers.

Although filming had only been under way for three days, the crew had been starting before dawn every morning, and after dozens of hours of work, many people were already deeply fatigued.

Besides, Zhang understood very well that the National Broadcasting program was bound to face no small difficulty, and that Liu Qingshan and Jin Xishan had both put in tremendous effort. Director Ge was clearly using this opportunity to build momentum for the two of them in front of everyone.

Liu Qingshan hurriedly expressed his thanks, and did not forget to seize a spare moment to have Jin Xishan call Tan Weiting.

The four-member group led by Kunal had become a brilliant sight in the production team, not only because of their foreign identities, but also because each of them possessed extraordinary martial skill.

Since they were not contracted actors, there was no competition between them and anyone else, which made them especially welcome among the stunt crew.

Now that everyone saw all four of them treating Jin Xishan with utmost respect, and seeming to have had private contact with her before, many began to wonder whether she and Liu Qingshan truly had some special relationship.

As a result, Kunal and the others became the main targets of everyone’s probing. Wherever they went, people would come up to them openly or covertly.

Since she had dared to appear in public, Jin Xishan must have considered this sort of situation, and had naturally explained her thoughts to Kunal and the others as well.

So no matter who tried to ask roundabout questions, Kunal would simply answer, “The two of them get along extremely well. That was already something everyone knew back in the Myth production crew, but it definitely is not the kind of relationship you are imagining!”

This deliberate attempt to build momentum was Liu Qingshan’s idea. After all, the two of them would inevitably appear together in the future. Rather than hiding and evading, it was better to be open and aboveboard; that would make things seem more proper.

Even Park Hye-jin thought the same. While other celebrities did everything they could to create rumors, the two of them could use this to keep the publicity going for a long time.

As long as they never admitted it, the rumor would continue spreading, and that was far more effective than any passive publicity.

That was simply how stars had to be: they needed to maintain a certain level of visibility and activity if they wanted their topics and influence to endure.

“Your idea is brilliant,” Chen Zuming kept muttering in Liu Qingshan’s ear. “With a life-saving favor as a perfectly legitimate excuse, Little Sister-in-Law can handle any rumor question with complete ease!”

At some point, Jin Xishan had become Little Sister-in-Law in his mouth, and for the past couple of days Mao Shaochong had been joining in the fun as well.

Liu Qingshan gave him a swat. “You should go tonight too. This is a chance to build good relations with the people from National Broadcasting, and it’ll help your father a great deal!”

“That Director Ge?”

“No, Zhang Peinian. He works under Fang Qingyang in the program review division of National Broadcasting’s chief editorial office, and he’s also the director of the foreign relations department. Your father may not make TV dramas, but film promotion also needs help from National Broadcasting, like the fan meeting for Mermaid Princess this time.”

“I knew it. My dad sent me to Hengdian for a reason—he just refuses to take me to see Jang Seo-hee!”

Chen Zuming wore a bitter, aggrieved look, clearly proving that Liu Qingshan’s earlier guess had been right.

“You regret following me around now? Shall I help you put in a word and send you straight back to the capital?”

Chen Zuming was evidently easy to scare. “No, forget it. If I used to care more about Jang Seo-hee, these past two days I really haven’t thought about it much. She’s just an actress, after all!”

“Hey, aren’t you an actor too? And me, and your father and mother—do you look down on your own profession like that?”

“Stop, stop, stop. I was just speaking off the cuff, and I didn’t realize I dragged my own family into it! Shanzi, you absolutely must not repeat that—how am I supposed to survive in this circle if people hear it?”

Jin Xishan glared at him fiercely. “Serves you right. In a few days I’m going to tell Brother Chen Long that you look down on our Korean actresses and call them actresses in the pejorative sense!”

Chen Zuming hurriedly begged for mercy. “Little Sister-in-Law, I just slipped up. Who talks about their own people that way? All right, to show my sincerity, once we get back to the capital I’ll buy you a car!”

This fellow had once been a textbook young dandy, with several flashy, expensive sports cars at his disposal.

Jin Xishan shook her head. “I don’t care for your car. If I’m going to buy one, Shanzi can buy it for me. Though I probably won’t get many chances to drive it myself.”

That was true enough. Local stars might be able to dress up and enjoy the thrill of driving around, but Jin Xishan was still far too unfamiliar with the capital.

Not long after, Liu Qingshan was called away by the director. Whether they could finish early today depended mainly on whether his scenes could be completed smoothly.

This was not the first time Jin Xishan had watched his filming, but this time was different, because Liu Qingshan was playing a middle-aged man and had many emotionally charged scenes of loyalty and devotion.

The stories of Sir Jin Yong are driven by intricate and dramatic plots, and there are rarely scenes that focus directly on a character’s inner world.

But this time Zhang planned to make a slight adjustment to the relevant storyline. Through the character of Guo Jing, he wanted to seriously convey the true meaning of the greatest knight-errant.

Today they happened to be filming that very passage. At this moment, Guo Jing had just witnessed the horrors of a city massacre and was about to see his mother, Li Ping, die.

Genghis Khan gave Guo Jing a silk pouch and ordered him to invade his own homeland, the Southern Song, while also sending secret orders to his men: if Guo Jing obeyed, he would be granted titles and lands; if he refused, he would be killed without mercy.

Li Ping opened the pouch and learned the truth. Just as mother and son were preparing to flee, Genghis Khan learned the truth first from Hua Zheng and seized Li Ping to threaten Guo Jing into compliance.

So that her son could fight the Mongols with an untroubled heart, Li Ping chose suicide. Before dying, she told Guo Jing not to become like Yang Kang and sink into infamy as a sinner.

What Liu Qingshan was performing now was this very segment, a passage that would test his true acting ability to the utmost.

The Guo Jing of the drama severed all ties with the empire Genghis Khan had built. The man who had once known nothing had become an accomplice to aggression.

Thus, when the city fell, when he was powerless to stop Genghis Khan’s slaughter, when he saw countless lives cut down by Mongol blades, and when he witnessed his mother’s tragic death, the torment Guo Jing suffered in his heart was imaginable.

Jin Xishan knew that Liu Qingshan’s martial scenes were unmatched, but this was the first time she had seen him handle such a complex emotional performance.

At this very moment, Liu Qingshan had already entered a state of complete self-forgetfulness.

Crystal tears kept rolling down his face, swept by a wind as cutting as blades. Within that resolute expression, unchanged in any obvious way, the fluctuations of his inner emotions were all reflected in the tightly furrowed knot between his brows.

His lips trembled faintly, yet he was desperately suppressing the rage inside him, like a flood surging high against the riverbanks, as if afraid that the dam might suddenly burst and unleash a roaring, overwhelming outpouring of emotion.

What Liu Qingshan did not know was that Zhang, through the walkie-talkie, was already directing the cameras to capture close-ups of his eyes and facial expression at that very instant.