Chapter 43: When You're Out There, You Need to Have Some Background

Great, we’ve got a straight man now.

Hearing Liu Yifei’s question brought immense joy to Lin Feng.

He wanted to give Zhang Yang some praise but didn’t want it to sound hollow or insincere.

If Zhang Yang could land a role in The Four Great Detectives, it would not only enhance his reputation but also create a small debt of gratitude from both Zhang Yang and Chen Jia Shang towards him.

“A-Yang plays Zhao Kuangyin, Emperor Taizu of Song,” Lin Feng explained, his eyes fixed on the monitor. “Initially, I designed his character based on Zhao Zilong—the White Horse Silver Spear—from Romance of the Three Kingdoms. His action scenes were meant to involve swords and spears, which he handled exceptionally well.”

“However, before filming began, he mentioned the story of ‘A Thousand Miles to Deliver Jingniang’ and reminded me that Zhao Kuangyin was proficient in both boxing and staff techniques. He noted that fist techniques are considered the mother of all martial arts, while staff mastery can conquer all eighty-one prefectures across the realm. So, we revised our approach accordingly.”

“He excelled in both unarmed combat and staff maneuvers. In fact, I’d say even Emperor Taizu himself might not have been much better.”

Shhhk.

Chen Jia Shang, Liu Yifei, Lin Zuiwei, and others drew sharp breaths inward.

They knew Lin Feng’s personality well—his journey from being an action stand-in to becoming a renowned martial arts choreographer within the industry, eventually earning him the title of on-set action director. His expertise was unquestionable.

After years navigating the entertainment world, coupled with natural aging, Lin Feng had become more tactful in his dealings. Yet, at heart, he retained the unyielding integrity of a true martial artist; he wouldn’t utter words merely for flattery, especially when Zhang Yang was still considered a newcomer.

His verbal assessment of Zhang Yang closely matched his internal thoughts.

It was precisely this honesty that left them all astonished.

How could someone so young be this incredible?

The group found themselves collectively staring at the monitor screen.

Zhang Yang began showcasing his prowess with the Dragon Coiled Staff, performing a series of high-difficulty maneuvers atop his horse while executing pre-planned staff techniques flawlessly. Each move sent soldiers flying through the air.

His entire display flowed like water, each strike varied in form, creating a visually stunning spectacle.

But that wasn’t all—Zhang Yang had an uncanny ability to find the camera angle. While “showing off,” he managed to keep his face frequently within view, his expressions spot-on throughout, never breaking character.

What astounded Chen Jia Shang and the others even more was how this action sequence continued without pause, hinting at a long, uninterrupted take.

This not only tested the director and cinematographer’s skill and coordination but also pushed the actor’s performance abilities to their limit.

Whoosh!

On screen, Zhang Yang wielded his Dragon Coiled Staff with deadly precision, moving fluidly between attacks. Finally facing three enemy generals simultaneously, he showed no signs of strain as he methodically defeated them one by one.

With a dramatic flourish, Zhang Yang reined in his horse using just one hand, staff held aloft in the other, bellowing, “Kneel and surrender! Those who yield shall live.”

Instantly, the extras on set dropped to their knees en masse.

The camera began pulling back, capturing the full scene before zooming in once again on Zhang Yang’s face.

Zhang Yang gazed into the camera, his eyes flickering as he recalled the sensation from his dream of Zhao Kuangyin ascending to the throne. His aura intensified, exuding an overwhelming presence.

“Brilliant!” Lin Zuiwei unconsciously clapped her hands together.

If Zhang Yang portrayed Zhao Kuangyin this impressively, it would further highlight Ma Fuya’s perfection when she took over later.

“Cut!”

Lin Feng raised his microphone and called out.

“Excellent.” Chen Jia Shang applauded, his eyes brimming with admiration.

Had Zhang Yang auditioned for Cen Chong’s role, he undoubtedly… still would have chosen Mu Panlong, since the production company had their own plans.

In the entertainment industry, connections always trumped talent.

Now that Mu Panlong couldn’t perform due to personal issues, Chen Jia Shang had the chance to find a suitable replacement. Some friends offered recommendations for both martial stand-ins and actors, but none were as cost-effective and versatile as Zhang Yang, who could fill both roles.

“He truly is exceptional,” Deng Zhao said, his face breaking into a wide smile. He didn’t hesitate to praise him further, “His movements seem far superior to that little rascal… well-known actor we used before. Plus, his height matches mine much better.”

It was no joke; they were currently searching for his martial stand-in, which directly impacted the quality of his action scenes—the very essence of his performance. Naturally, he leaned towards using someone more skilled rather than relying on connections.

“I never realized A-Yang bro had become so talented,” Liu Yifei softly chimed in, showing her agreement.

“If he wasn’t so incredible, I wouldn’t have cast him as Zhao Kuangyin or given him more screen time,” Lin Zuiwei boasted.

Liang Xinqian and the others’ expressions remained unchanged, but inside they were rolling their eyes.

Nazha kept stealing glances at Liu Yifei, feeling somewhat nervous.

The better Zhang Yang performed, the more worried she grew about her “precious” being noticed by others.

This is Liu Yifei we’re talking about; there’s no way she’d be interested in A-Yang, Nazha tried to reassure herself.

“Brother Lin, what do you think? Should we keep this one?” Zhang Yang approached the group, his long staff slung over his shoulder. He stood tall and proud, exuding confidence and martial prowess.

“All right, it was worth prepping all morning for this. Let’s move on to the next set.” Lin Feng nodded with satisfaction.

Zhang Yang gave a slight nod before turning to Chen Jia Shang. “Director Chen, am I suitable?”

Regardless of whether he got the part, taking initiative at this point was crucial—no way could he expect a big director like that to make the first move.

“The fight scenes won’t be an issue, but if we’re just looking for a stand-in, then yes, let’s go ahead. As for Cen Chong’s role…” Chen Jia Shang deliberately left them hanging.

Zhang Yang didn’t rush, smiling calmly back at Chen Jia Shang. This only made the latter feel even more pleased.

“All right already,” Lin Feng chimed in. “It’s just a minor role. No need to make such a fuss—it’s like auditioning for the male lead. I’ll vouch for A-Yang—he’s equally good at acting and action sequences.”

Chen Jia Shang pointed at Lin Feng with feigned annoyance. “Considering you recommended A-Yang to me, I’ll overlook this slight.”

“Overlook it? You owe me a drink tonight for putting up with your antics,” Lin Feng retorted playfully.

“Oh, absolutely,” Chen Jia Shang replied with an expression that said he’d been thoroughly outwitted.

The others chuckled politely, remaining silent.

Next on the agenda was Zhang Yang’s scene shoot, which only required a few additional shots.

One key moment came after his character donned the imperial robes. Alone in the study, he would reflect upon “Ma Fuya.” After all, this series was called Prestige Imperial Concubine, not Emperor Taizu of Song.

Chen Jia Shang and crew didn’t depart but stayed to observe Zhang Yang’s acting performance.

“The look in his eyes is spot-on; his expressions are perfect, and his delivery of lines is excellent,” Chen Jia Shang noted approvingly.

From a purely cinematic perspective, he felt using Zhang Yang as Cen Chong was almost a waste—Zhang Yang could have easily portrayed even the male lead if needed. Unfortunately, he wasn’t yet famous or well-connected.

However, given his exceptional talent, should Zhang Yang seize the right opportunity in the future, he might just make it big. Chen Jia Shang saw no harm in building a good relationship early on.

Similar thoughts crossed Liang Xinqian and Lin Zuiwei’s minds, causing them to treat Zhang Yang with increasing warmth.

During dinner that evening, Lin Zuiwei mentioned they could concentrate Zhang Yang’s filming schedule, allowing him to join The Four Great Detectives within days.

Before parting, Chen Jia Shang suggested Zhang Yang contact his agent and relevant production staff about signing the contract. He asked tentatively, “Do you need me to give your company a heads up?”

Cai Yining, CEO of Tangren Company, was known as a formidable woman in the industry—formidable meaning she wasn’t easy to deal with, always having her own agenda.

“No need to trouble Director Chen with such a minor matter,” Zhang Yang replied with an unchanging smile. “I’ll just call and let them know.”

Chen Jia Shang nodded. “We’re pushing hard here; there’s quite a bit of action for both Cold Blood and Cen Chong. We need you on set soon.”

Zhang Yang understood his implication—to finalize the contract quickly, avoiding any last-minute complications.

“A-Yang, take care.” Liu Yifei waved goodbye to Zhang Yang, her gesture breezy and unconstrained.

“Goodbye,” Zhang Yang watched as Chen Jia Shang and others departed.

Outside the restaurant, only he and Nazha remained.

Without hesitation, Zhang Yang called Cai Yining directly.

At Tangren Company headquarters, Cai Yining, preparing to leave for home, glanced at her phone.

Seeing “Zhang Yang” on the caller ID, her face lit up with a smile, all traces of fatigue vanishing instantly. “So he couldn’t wait after all. I’ve been anticipating this call.”