Chapter 27: Ready to Film Upon Arrival: Zhao Kuangyin

Now that he had some time on his hands, Zhang Yang didn’t mind giving Nazha a lesson.

“In this business, you either need to be famous enough, have enough experience, or have connections and money.”

“Without these, you’ll just be waiting for your chance to become popular, or submitting to the unwritten rules to get opportunities and backing.”

“I may be with Tangren, but I’m not important at all. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even have come here myself without an agent. And those production assistants and script notes guys? They’re always ready to size people up before they decide how to treat them.”

“Think about it: when we were in that high-pressure film set, Lao Hu took us around to meet the director, producer, Dong Xuan, Qiu Ze, and so on. But they weren’t really interested; they were just giving face to Hu Ge.”

“Qi Wei and Tang Yan were friendly because I knew them already—we’re almost like friends.”

“But in this setup, I’m just another no-name actor who Tangren doesn’t care much about.”

“The only reason nobody’s been rude or trying to trip us up is our big company background.”

“It’s fine to visit directors and main actors, but you gotta pick the right moment—it’s not something you do right off the bat.”

Now that he had taken on the role of mentor, Zhang Yang was determined to fulfill his duties diligently.

A film set is essentially a workplace, often even more intricate than most offices, filled with complex power struggles and hidden agendas.

“In a film crew,” Zhang Yang advised, “you should speak less and work more; listen attentively, observe keenly, and think critically.”

“Oh,” Nazha responded, wearing an expression as if deep in thought.

Just then, a commotion stirred outside the makeup room.

The door swung open, revealing a striking woman—her beauty scoring a solid 80 out of 100—who stepped inside with visible irritation, still stifling yawns.

It was clear she had been rudely awakened from her midday nap for work, leaving her in quite a foul mood.

“Hello there! I’ll be needing your expertise soon.” Zhang Yang promptly rose to greet her.

On a film set, makeup artists belong to the category of people you absolutely cannot afford to offend when everything seems calm.

If one were to take offense and deliberately create a look that accentuated your flaws, by the time the show aired and viewers mocked you, you’d have no place left to cry.

“No problem, just part of the job.” The artist couldn’t help but soften at such amiable words—and who could resist the charm of a handsome man like Zhang Yang? Her morning grumpiness dissipated considerably.

“What should I call you?” Zhang Yang asked, discreetly slipping her a small red envelope prepared beforehand.

The makeup artist’s irritation vanished instantly, feeling fortunate to have landed this job. She accepted the red envelope with a smile, “No need for such formality. Just call me Sister Sun.”

“Alright, Sister Sun,” Zhang Yang responded cheerfully. “I can’t tell if you’re much older than I am, but being able to work as a makeup artist on Pride and Prejudice Empress must be quite impressive.” He wore an expression of genuine admiration.

Nazha looked on curiously:

This woman looks at least thirty.

“You’d be wrong there,” Sister Sun couldn’t suppress her grin. “Sis is actually 33.”

“No way!” Zhang Yang studied Sister Sun’s face closely before shaking his head in awe. “You really don’t look it! Do you have some secret skincare regimen?”

“I don’t usually focus on maintenance; maybe my makeup skills just pay off,” Sister Sun replied with a laugh.

“That’s fantastic news,” Zhang Yang said, smiling brightly. “My luck keeps getting better!”

Feeling pleased, Sister Sun scrutinized Zhang Yang. “Have you thought about how you want to portray your character? Any specific style or approach you’re aiming for?”

On the sidelines, Nazha’s eyes lit up, mentally noting: Good lesson here.

As Zhang Yang had explained during their walk to set, most productions were meticulous about details. Only main characters or those played by influential actors often got specialized character design treatment.

For supporting actors and extras, their costumes and makeup only needed to be passable. Sometimes they were even deliberately made ugly to highlight the main characters like green leaves framing a beautiful flower.

Now Sister Sun was asking Zhang Yang about his desired look, which meant she could design his character’s appearance.

To get such an advantage with just a small red envelope and some compliments is clearly a win.

“Sister Sun, I do have a few ideas,” Zhang Yang said without being modest at this moment. “I’m playing Zhao Kuangyin, the ‘Ancestor of Song’ among Tang Emperors and Song Ancestors—a man of exceptional talent who achieved remarkable military feats, conquering lands on horseback and governing the nation.”

“The story takes place early in history, so I envision something imposingly heroic yet不失文雅—maintaining elegance.”

Based on his features, Zhang Yang thought he could be styled after Zhao Zilong, the young general known as the White Horse Warrior.

“I understand. Let’s first find the right feel; we can finalize your look once everything looks good. If anything feels off, we’ll make adjustments.” Sister Sun had Zhang Yang sit down while she prepared her tools.

She started by fitting him with a headpiece, then found a suitable wig that complemented his handsome face, giving him a dashing, noble air.

Zhang Yang closed his eyes, occasionally engaging Sister Sun in casual conversation. He meticulously gauged her reactions, maintaining a perfect balance of humor and rhythm.

As their banter continued, Sister Sun began sharing various gossip and rumors circulating within the production team. She whispered about the ambiguous relationship between Lin Zuiwei and Huo Jianhua, the apparent tension between Yan Yikuan and Huo Jianhua, Deputy Director Liu being sent by Hunan TV, and even revealed that one of the set assistants was the director’s brother-in-law.

To most, these snippets were merely idle chatter, but for Zhang Yang—set to work on the crew for an extended period—they proved invaluable intelligence, potentially shielding him from unwittingly offending anyone.

“Another lesson learned,” Nazha thought, growing increasingly impressed with Zhang Yang.

She initially believed Zhang Yang’s charm towards Sister Sun was solely aimed at securing better character design and styling. Little did she know it would also grant him such crucial insights through subsequent conversations.

For instance, learning of the strained relationship between Yan Yikuan and Huo Jianhua was particularly significant.

As a student from Shanghai Theatre Academy, Zhang Yang could leverage this connection to approach Yan Yikuan, the male lead, as a fellow senior at school.

Moreover, Zhang Yang already had a slight rapport with Huo Jianhua, allowing him to reach out for support while simultaneously befriending Lin Zuiwei.

However, given the animosity between Yan Yikuan and Huo Jianhua, any attempt to foster relationships needed careful consideration to avoid alienating either party.

“Speak less, do more; listen, observe, and think often,” Nazha memorized these words.

Unaware of Nazha’s thoughts, Zhang Yang continued to indirectly gather information from Sister Sun through probing questions.

After approximately half an hour, Sister Sun nodded with satisfaction. “All done.”

Zhang Yang opened his eyes, seeing a transformed version of himself in the mirror.

His skin, once slightly pale, now had a healthy bronze tint, exuding vitality and masculinity. His prominent eyebrows were meticulously shaped, giving him a spirited appearance. The contours of his neck had been refined, making his jawline more defined.

In essence, his features now emphasized ruggedness, concealing Zhang Yang’s previous delicate beauty and adding a touch of valor. He had morphed from a creamy-faced youth into a half-hardened man, a scholarly bookworm reborn as a young general.

“What do you think?” Zhang Yang suddenly turned to Nazha.

Nazha hid his phone instinctively, shifting his gaze away before blurting out, “You look super cool!”

Zhang Yang flashed a smile at Sister Sun. “Even my rookie secretary thinks it’s spot-on. Your skills are truly top-notch, Sister Sun.”

A hint of pride blossomed on Sister Sun’s face. “I wouldn’t say I’m second best among the crew. No one dares to claim they’re better than me. Even those exclusive makeup artists for the main actors don’t impress me much.”

“Ah, Zhang Yang, you’re quite lucky,” Sister Sun remarked. “This drama is almost wrapping up; many actors have already finished their shoots and left. In our makeup team, I’m one of the few remaining.”

Zhang Yang couldn’t help but agree with her assessment—Sister Sun’s skills were indeed top-notch.

No need for further tests then, he thought. Let’s set his look right away.

Another half-hour passed as they finalized his appearance, complete with costume changes provided by the production team.

With his transformation complete, Zhang Yang immediately sought out the script supervisor and coordinator. The latter’s face clearly showed surprise upon seeing his new look, yet spoke to him with utmost respect.

The coordinator promptly led him to the director. By this time, afternoon filming had begun, coinciding perfectly with a scheduled break—a fortunate turn since several key cast members were present that day.

Upon hearing that Zhang Yang was the actor playing Zhao Kuangyin, all eyes turned towards him at once.

In terms of looks alone, he’s certainly an improvement over the previous choice, Director Liang Xinqian mused contentedly.

At least this candidate from Tangren wasn’t entirely without merit.

Yet, it also brought about a headache. If Zhang Yang looked too good, there might be a risk…

Just then, Lin Zuiwei’s voice whispered into his ear, “Director, let’s have this actor shoot some scenes with me first—to test his acting skills.”

Liang Xinqian remained silent.

Test his acting skills? More like you’re trying to steal him for yourself!