Chapter 32: Delivering Jingniang Over A Thousand Miles Away

“Brother Zhang, you’re not pulling my leg, are you?” Nazha’s expressive eyes sparkled like a pair of clear springs.

After experiencing just two days on set, she felt akin to someone who had mastered riding a bicycle for the first time—eager to give it another go immediately.

Last night, as she drifted off to sleep, she’d been dreaming about how after a few more days of learning, she would ask Zhang Yang to arrange a minor role for her. This way, she could earn some pocket money while gaining real acting experience.

To her surprise, before she could even bring it up, Zhang Yang presented her with an unexpected gift—a direct opportunity at a featured part.

Featured roles came in three tiers: major, medium, and small. These parts involved playing bit characters or minor supporting roles, complete with their own storyline and lines to deliver.

“I wouldn’t tease you over something so trivial,” Zhang Yang said lightly, tapping his chin. “Unless there’s an unforeseen issue, you’ll definitely get a small role.”

Suppressing her excitement, Nazha fixed her gaze intently on Zhang Yang’s face, her beautiful eyes pleading. “What kind of role is it?”

This time, Zhang Yang didn’t answer her question right away. Instead, he sat back down in his chair and patted his shoulders gently.

Understanding his unspoken request, Nazha tactfully moved behind him to massage his shoulders. Her voice softened as she asked, “Brother Zhang, does this pressure feel alright?”

“Mm-hmm, that’s perfect.” Zhang Yang closed his eyes contentedly, clearly enjoying the soothing touch.

”…” Around them, some set staff and extras could barely breathe from sheer envy.

Nazha possessed a natural beauty with an exotic charm that complemented her luminously fair skin—a sight impossible to overlook without being utterly captivated.

This woman, more gorgeous than many established actresses in the industry, was merely Zhang Yang’s personal assistant on set.

Initially skeptical, they were now fully convinced as they watched Nazha massage Zhang Yang’s shoulders.

This man truly deserved every bit of his infamy! they thought bitterly.

Extra A muttered, “The wind today is unusually loud.”

Extra B chimed in, “Suddenly feels like acting at Hengdian isn’t much fun anymore.”

Extra C agreed, “Yeah, I’m thinking about returning home to find a wife instead.”

The group leader asked pointedly, “So, no pay for today then?”

The extras fell silent, their expressions eloquent in their discontent.

Unaware of the unfolding drama among the extras, Nazha couldn’t help but be curious. She turned to Zhang Yang and asked softly, “Brother Yang, how did you manage this?”

Zhang Yang opened his eyes and replied mildly, “To be honest, I wasn’t certain if you’d even get this role.”

Nazha paused, bewildered. Had she been deceived?

“It depends on whether Sister Ziwei agrees to give me extra scenes,” Zhang Yang explained further. “Here’s what happened…” He proceeded to fill Nazha in on the situation, his voice weaving through the complexities of film politics and personal connections—showing just how far he’d gone to secure her place in the spotlight.

From last night’s meeting with Huo Jianhua—where he sought help in delivering a script—to this moment when Lin Zuiwei had called him for a detailed discussion, everything now made sense.

“So you left me out of your plans last night because you were secretly off doing something big, huh?” Nazha realized, his tone dawning with understanding.

The word “doing” was brilliantly chosen, carrying multiple implications.

“Brother Zhang,” Nazha continued, resuming his shoulder massage on Zhang Yang, “can you tell me more about the role I’ll be playing? What exactly is it like?”

This enthusiastic display caught Zhang Yang somewhat by surprise. “Are you sure Miss Ziwei will agree to my proposal?”

“I believe in you.” In Nazha’s expressive eyes, Zhang Yang could see his own reflection. “Though we haven’t known each other long, I’ve noticed that whatever goal you set your mind to seems to always come true.”

Wow, does Nazha have such keen observational skills? Zhang Yang marveled inwardly as he smiled and replied, “May fortune indeed smile upon us.”

“As for the character you’ll play—it’s been custom-tailored just for you. It’s someone who cannot return my love.”

Nazha blinked in confusion.

Custom-tailored just for me? That sounds wonderful, he thought. But why must it be a role where one cannot reciprocate love?

Just as Nazha was about to probe further, he spotted Lin Zuiwei approaching with Liang Xinqian and several others. Sensing the situation, he wisely fell silent.

Zhang Yang rose respectfully at their approach. “Miss Ziwei, Director Liang, Director Lin.” He stood up promptly.

Pride and Prejudice Empress, the historical drama, had two directors—Liang Xinqian and Lin Feng. The latter, a graduate of Beijing Film Academy, would later become renowned as the action director for Changjin Lake.

From the very start, the production team was divided into Group A and Group B. Liang Xinqian oversaw the dramatic scenes, while Lin Feng handled the action sequences—a division Zhang Yang only now encountered upon meeting him personally.

“A-Yang, you know Director Lin?” Surprise flickered across Liang Xinqian’s face with his smile.

“Of course I do,” Zhang Yang replied with a grin. “I remember from shows like ‘Heroes of Mount Shu,’ ‘Honey Honey,’ ‘New Shanghai滩,’ and ‘Three Kingdoms’—all those were directed by Director Lin when it came to stunts and actions.”

Lin Feng, usually a man of few words, showed a hint of emotion on his otherwise stoic countenance. Indeed, he had contributed to many widely acclaimed works, but as an action director, he rarely appeared in the spotlight. Those unfamiliar with his work wouldn’t recognize him—and certainly not someone young like Zhang Yang.

“Pleased to meet you,” Lin Feng said, extending his hand first.

Zhang Yang promptly shook it, their palms connecting firmly.

At this moment, Lin Zuiwei interjected gracefully, “Since A-Yang knows Director Lin so well, I’m sure your collaboration will go smoothly.”

Hearing this, just the right amount of feigned surprise blossomed on Zhang Yang’s face. “Sister Ziwei, you’ve agreed already?” He asked, his tone carrying a note of delighted inquiry.

“Indeed,” Liang Xinqian said with a smile. “After reading your script, we all found your ideas exceptional—unanimously approved. We’ve discussed it among ourselves and plan to have Director Lin lead a team specifically for this project’s filming.”

What is surprise? This right here—that’s what you call a delightful shock.

Zhang Yang realized that befriending such a talented yet unassuming director like Lin Feng was indeed a strategic move worth making.

“Thank you for recognizing my work,” Zhang Yang assured them. “I will certainly deliver outstanding results.”

At that moment, a young woman standing next to Director Liang spoke up. “Zhang Yang, did you draw inspiration from any particular source for this plotline? It seems familiar somehow.”

She was Shao Sihan, one of the two screenwriters for Prestige Imperial Concubine, who had been reviewing Zhang Yang’s content and felt she’d seen elements of it before somewhere else.

“Ah, Scriptwriter Shao, your knowledge truly impresses me,” Zhang Yang responded smoothly. “I actually got inspired while searching online; I referenced the story ‘A Thousand Miles to Deliver Jingniang.’ It sparked some creative ideas.”

Feeling her cheeks flush slightly, Shao Sihan realized her initial intention had been to confront Zhang Yang about potential plagiarism—a stark contrast to the warm reception he’d given her just moments ago.

You claim to add original plotlines, she thought, but where does that leave our screenwriters’ reputations?

Yet as she gazed at Zhang Yang’s face, her anger suddenly dissipated. She persisted in questioning him, still wary of potential plagiarism.

To everyone’s surprise, Zhang Yang readily acknowledged his inspiration. “A Thousand Miles to Deliver Jingniang?” Shao Sihan frowned, recalling that she had indeed heard of this tale before.

For others like Lin Zuiwei, however, it was entirely unfamiliar territory.

Zhang Yang, ever mindful of their ignorance on the matter, took the initiative to explain. “‘A Thousand Miles to Deliver Jingniang’ is a widely known folk story. It tells of Emperor Taizu Zhao Kuangyin of Song—when he was young and fleeing persecution—in disguise as he left Bianjing. On his journey through Taiyuan, he encountered Zhao Jingniang, a woman imprisoned by bandits in a dark cellar. He rescued her and escorted her safely over a thousand miles away. Throughout their arduous trek, they maintained a chaste brother-sister relationship despite spending day and night together, enduring hardships without any impropriety.”

“‘A Thousand Miles to Deliver Jingniang’ originated from Beijing Opera,” Zhang Yang continued, “but variations can be found across various regional operas such as Yueju, Kunqu, Chaoju, and Sichuan opera.”

The group now understood; Zhang Yang had drawn upon “history”—or rather, upon widely circulated historical fiction—to craft his narrative.

“This is excellent,” Liang Xinqian couldn’t help but praise. “Drawing from historical events can serve as a bridge between past and present, allowing audiences to connect more deeply with the story. It will undoubtedly enhance their appreciation of our drama.”

Upon hearing this, Lin Zuiwei secretly shot Zhang Yang a sidelong glance.

Had he mentioned earlier that his idea was inspired by “A Thousand Miles to Deliver Jingniang,” she would have approved it on the spot—a testament to her discerning eye as a producer.

Zhang Yang noticed Lin Zuiwei’s expression and inwardly chuckled: Can’t blame me for your lack of cultural knowledge, now can you?

“The role of Zhao Jingniang cannot be entrusted to just anyone,” Lin Zuiwei stated firmly.

Nazha felt her heart leap into her throat at these words. Having listened intently all along, she had come to believe that the character Zhang Yang advocated for was indeed Zhao Jingniang. If Lin Zuiwei took personal interest in casting this part, Nazha’s chances of landing the role seemed slim.

Just then, she heard Zhang Yang speak up again, “Sister Ziwei, what do you think about my secretary here—would they be suitable?”

Nazha stared, utterly astounded.

Oh. My. God! How could such a handsome man exist?!