Chapter 28: Nazha: What I Do is Different from What I Teach

It’s clear you’ve been too deeply immersed in playing those overpowered Mary Sue roles!

Especially after the huge success of Proud Immortal Demon Way, you became addicted to being the center of everyone’s attention.

Having one female lead contested between a male lead and supporting actor was standard practice. But setting up every single male character in the show to be infatuated with her, going to any lengths for her favor—this took things too far.

Sure, it might have been satisfying for you, Lin Zuiwei, but it made all the male actors uncomfortable—and even I felt uneasy directing these scenes.

No wonder there was friction between you and the actor who played Zhao Kuangyin earlier on.

“Isn’t this putting too much pressure? He’s only just joined the cast,” Liang Xinqian said sympathetically. He didn’t want Zhang Yang’s first day to be such an intense baptism by fire.

While Lin Zuiwei still had her charms, acting opposite her wasn’t as cringeworthy as watching Jiao Enjun and Madame Xi Men back in the day. Still, their age difference was undeniable.

“Director, we need to wrap this show within a month. We didn’t invite him here for a vacation; he has to step up despite the pressure.” Lin Zuiwei persisted, her gaze sweeping across Zhang Yang’s face.

She’d grown tired of seeing so many elegant-looking men lately—it was refreshing to encounter someone more robustly handsome. She simply had to give him a try.

“Fine,” Liang Xinqian relented without further protest.

After all, Lin Zuiwei wasn’t just the leading actress; she was also an investor and producer, giving her greater authority than him.

“Zhang Yang, isn’t it? You’ve got a great presence,” Liang Xinqian began, knowing he’d have to play the bad cop again. “The Tangren team said your acting is quite good.” After a moment’s consideration, he continued, “Your role doesn’t have too many scenes, but it’s crucial for the whole series. Since you’re here now, let’s do a quick run-through so I can see how we feel about it.”

Of course, Zhang Yang knew his character was important—he played Zhao Kuangyin, Emperor Taizu of Song—but that wasn’t reason enough to jump straight into filming. Normally, he should observe how his seniors approached their roles first. Understanding the lead actors’ styles and habits would help him better complement them.

“All right, Director. Which scene shall I perform?” Zhang Yang acquiesced readily, though inwardly he was skeptical.

He had no idea what Lin Zuiwei and the director had discussed, but he suspected it involved him directly. With the producer, female lead, and director all aligned against him, he couldn’t afford to be stubborn from the start.

“The male lead Meng Qiyou dies, the female lead Ma Fuya mourns and recalls her memories; then Zhao Kuangyin appears to comfort her,” Liang Xinqian explained succinctly, clearly aware of what Lin Zuiwei desired.

As soon as these words were spoken, the onlookers’ expressions shifted noticeably.

Some looked on with prurient curiosity, others with schadenfreude, while a few shook their heads silently in sympathy.

This particular scene had been the source of conflict between the previous actor who played Zhao Kuangyin and Lin Zuiwei—ultimately leading to his dismissal.

The male actor had a straightforward personality and was an avid history buff, particularly fond of historical figures like Emperor Qin Shi Huang, Emperor Wu of Han, Emperor Taizong of Tang, and Emperor Taizu of Song.

Although the show was titled “Prestige Imperial Concubine,” with all male leads smitten by the female protagonist, even Zhao Kuangyin displayed admiration towards her. However, he shouldn’t have appeared as infatuated as a lovesick puppy.

Feeling that some scenes needed adjustments to stay true to Zhao Kuangyin’s character, the actor’s suggestions were rejected by Lin Zuiwei, who retorted, “This is a period drama, not a historical documentary. Who cares about how Zhao Kuangyin actually behaved in history?”

Lin Zuiwei’s superficial understanding of history infuriated the actor, leading to a heated argument between them.

In the end, naturally, the script remained unchanged. The male actor was dismissed, and another performer took over the role of Zhao Kuangyin.

Observing this situation unfold, it seemed clear from the start that Lin Zuiwei intended to cast her demonic spell on Zhang Yang.

“Lin Zuiwei and Xiao Ming-ge - one the epitome of Mary Sue tropes, the other the quintessential tycoon archetype. Before their transformation, they truly were a dragon and phoenix rising.”

Unprepared for such a hellish beginning, Zhang Yang inwardly sighed.

He had initially planned to wait until everyone grew more familiar before suggesting changes to those cringe-worthy plotlines. Now, with events unfolding rapidly, he found himself forced into making a bold move.

“I’ve memorized the script thoroughly; I know every scene by heart,” Zhang Yang said with an easy expression. “Regarding this directorial choice you mentioned, I have a small understanding and suggestion.”

Oh boy!

Everyone in the room pricked up their ears.

Huo Jianhua and Yan Yikuan, who were reading the script, also looked up.

Zhang Yang was from Tangren—everyone assumed he must know why the previous actor had left.

Nazha’s eyes widened, thinking to herself that this wasn’t what Zhang Yang taught her on the bus.

Didn’t he say not to be too unconventional when they first arrived?

If Zhang Yang knew her thoughts, he would surely tell her:

Not being unconventional means you’d have to hold Lin Zuiwei and comfort her gently.

“What’s wrong with this scene? Go ahead and share your thoughts,” Liang Xinqian began, wanting to give Zhang Yang an out, but Lin Zuiwei beat him to it.

Oh no…

Liang Xinqian sighed inwardly.

We’ll probably need another actor again. Why are today’s actors so stubborn?

Back then, Jiao Enjun could deliver those nauseating lines to Mrs. Ximen with such emotion and conviction.

Now all they needed was someone to hold Lin Zuiwei and offer some comforting words—what’s so difficult about that?

“I believe the biggest issue with this scene is its blasphemy against the female lead,” Zhang Yang said earnestly.

The crowd was taken aback.

Impressive—he actually called it blasphemy.

Wait, he said it’s blasphemous to the female lead.

What did this mean?

“Ziwei-jie, I’ve thoroughly researched Zhao Kuangyin’s character in the drama,” Zhang Yang stepped forward, his words tinged with indignation. “Rescued as a child by the female lead, he harbored deep gratitude for her unparalleled beauty, etched in his heart.”

“Later, as the great general of Zhou, Zhao Kuangyin remained steadfastly devoted to Ma Fuya. She was his pristine white moonlight.”

“Zhao Kuangyin undoubtedly loved Ma Fuya, but he would never act on it immoderately. Calling her ‘sister’ restrained their relationship; he knew who held her true affections.”

“In this series, countless handsome men pursued Ma Fuya, yet her heart remained unwavering from beginning to end—her love was constant.”

“Given these premises, when Ma Fuya wept, Zhao Kuangyin embraced and consoled her—isn’t that an insult to her purity? Doesn’t it sully his own noble feelings?”

“Ma Fuya didn’t pull away either—it tarnishes her image too!”

“To those unaware, they might think she’d accept any suitor.”

“Uh…”

As if struck by a realization, Zhang Yang paused and glanced at Lin Zuiwei.

Seeing everyone silent, he continued reluctantly, “Sorry, Ziwei-jie, I approached the script from an omniscient perspective, empathizing with the protagonist’s plight. My outburst stemmed from righteous indignation—I meant no disrespect towards the heroine.”

“I just feel that if Zhao Kuangyin’s white moonlight is so pure and beautiful, standing alone above the world, how could she be defiled?” Zhang Yang said.

Lin Zuiwei was moved by these words and fell into deep thought.

Yes, I mean, no—how could the female lead be defiled?

She had wavered between the male lead and the second male character, but her heart had always belonged to the former.

There seemed to be an issue with the Zhao Kuangyin subplot; he appeared to have a secret crush on her, silently protecting and cherishing her from afar.

Only then would it truly highlight Lin Zuiwei—in fact, Ma Fuya’s allure!

“Excellent.” Lin Zuiwei nodded approvingly, her face full of admiration. “An outsider sees clearly. Your understanding is spot-on. Zhao Kuangyin’s attitude towards Ma Fuya should indeed be as you described.”

“You’re quite insightful,” Zhang Yang continued. “Have you ever considered how this scene should be revised?”

The group fell silent.

Previously, another actor had said:

Zhao Kuangyin is such a dignified figure; the female lead shouldn’t [be treated in that way]…

Lin Zuiwei had retorted sharply: Get lost!

Now Zhang Yang presented his view:

Zhao Kuangyin cannot defile the female lead; she must remain his untouchable white moonlight. Her uniqueness only serves to heighten her charm.

And when asked about potential revisions, Zhang Yang responded:

It’s the same idea, but phrased differently. Does this mean Lin Zuiwei has changed her mind too?

Zhang Yang’s silver tongue was indeed impressive!

Finally, Lin Zuiwei couldn’t help but exclaim: You people know nothing!