Chapter 47: The Shocking Revelation from the Martial Arts Instructor

“Pfft.”

Seeing Liu Yifei’s expression, even her makeup artist couldn’t suppress a chuckle.

“Sis Wang, you’re laughing at me too?” Liu Yifei feigned indignation.

“No, I just thought of another joke,” Sister Wang hastily concocted an excuse with obvious holes.

“Are both your jokes the same one?” Liu Yifei raised her voice.

Sister Wang exchanged glances with the person who had laughed earlier, and they nodded in unison: “Yes, yes, yes…”

Liu Yifei was left speechless.

“Mom, look at them.” Liu Yifei tried to get Liu Xiaoli on her side.

“Stay still or it’ll hurt more later.” Liu Xiaoli gently patted Liu Yifei’s calf.

Realizing she couldn’t find an ally, Liu Yifei resorted to shooting death threats at Zhang Yang through her glare alone.

Liu Xiaoli and Sister Wang found this amusing.

In private, Liu Yifei was quite vivacious, but during shoots, she rarely interacted with others, fitting the aloof image of a “goddess” outsiders often held of her.

Especially when it came to boys, Liu Xiaoli used to be very strict due to concerns about Liu Yifei being taken advantage of because of her age. Now that she’d relaxed her grip somewhat, Liu Yifei herself simply showed no interest in making friends with members of the opposite sex.

Most men felt intimidated by Liu Yifei’s exceptional qualities when facing her directly.

Someone like Zhang Yang, so carefree around her, was truly unique!

“Xiaoxiao-jie, this injury is quite severe,” Zhang Yang observed, his gaze intense as he looked at Liu Yifei’s wound. “It appears to have been caused by a sudden forceful pull while seated, resulting in compression. And it hasn’t received immediate treatment.”

Liu Xiaoli and Sister Wang were taken aback.

Liu Yifei had sustained the injury during the first scene this morning but endured the pain silently until recently, only revealing it after finishing her part.

When Liu Xiaoli saw the injured area earlier, her heart ached so much that her eyes reddened. She harshly scolded Liu Yifei for risking too much on set, then rushed with concern to find the first aid kit—only to discover its contents spilled everywhere.

Instead of sending an assistant to buy more supplies, she immediately thought of borrowing from the martial arts instructor handling stunts.

Even the director was unaware of Liu Yifei’s injury; there was no way Zhang Yang could have heard about it through gossip.

So, he truly deduced it just by looking.

“If you can tell even this kind of thing, you’re pretty impressive,” Liu Yifei remarked, raising one delicate eyebrow slightly.

Though she said this, deep down, she wasn’t surprised at all—rather, she found it quite natural.

Having some training herself, she’d noticed when watching Zhang Yang’s fight scenes in Prestige Imperial Concubine days ago that he possessed childlike strength—a rare ability among martial artists—and thus understood well how such injuries occurred.

“Just sharing my experience,” Zhang Yang replied, diverting his gaze away from the wound. “If you trust me, I’d recommend going to the hospital for targeted antibiotics and painkillers. Otherwise, the next week will be very difficult.”

Liu Xiaoli’s hands paused momentarily before she looked up and asked, “Is it really that serious?”

“The injury is severe, and since you’ve delayed treatment, there might be nerve damage,” Zhang Yang nodded.

This was experience gained from Zhao Kuangyin’s lifetime of military service; it couldn’t be wrong.

“That won’t do. I must inform the director and take Xiaoxiao to the hospital for a check-up.” Liu Xiaoli decided promptly.

Liu Yifei initially wanted to say it wasn’t necessary but then thought she’d be ungrateful, so she let Liu Xiaoli handle it.

“Thanks to you, looks like I can skip work this afternoon.” Liu Yifei remained optimistic, even making light of the situation.

“You’re welcome.” Zhang Yang glanced at the added opportunity points in his Opportunity Handbook, the corner of his mouth curving slightly upward. “Of course, if you feel compelled to thank me properly, I could graciously accept small gestures—like snacks, savory treats, or perhaps a fine pot of tea…”

“You certainly know how to ask for favors,” Liu Yifei teased.

Even Sister Wang and others found their banter amusing, watching them bicker as if no one else were present.

That’s all they consider themselves—just ordinary friends?! Are we that easily fooled? Nazha thought incredulously.

Liu Xiaoli quickly returned, accompanied by a woman in a white coat—the set’s medical staff member.

The female doctor examined Liu Yifei’s condition, her expression grave. “Judging by these bruises and hematoma, it does seem quite serious. It would be best to go to the hospital for further evaluation, just to ensure there’s no nerve damage.”

Following the doctor’s advice, Liu Xiaoli first informed the director, then found the production manager on set. After arranging for time off, she took Liu Yifei to the nearest hospital.

Xiao Qin, one of Liu Yifei’s personal assistants, was left behind to fill Zhang Yang in about the situation within the crew.

By the time Zhang Yang had a good grasp of what happened, the morning shoot came to a temporary end, and lunch boxes were being handed out.

Zhang Yang used this break to report to Chen Jia Shang.

“A-Yang, you’re finally here! Wonderful.”

Before Chen Jia Shang could even speak, Deng Zhao had already embraced Zhang Yang with a grin. “I may not be up to it, but with the moves Brother designed, you’ll ace them no problem.”

His words instantly made Zhang Yang the center of attention. Especially notable was a middle-aged man dressed in an orange jacket with a hat, whose ordinary appearance belied his keen, sharp gaze as he scrutinized Zhang Yang continuously.

Meeting that stare head-on, Zhang Yang began assessing him just as intently.

This individual was the very same “Brother” Deng Zhao had mentioned earlier.

His full name was Gu Xianzhao; “Brother” was how close acquaintances addressed him. He was a renowned martial arts and action choreographer, as well as a producer in Xiangjiang.

As the last disciple of the famous martial arts instructor Yuan Heping, Gu Xianzhao had overseen some of the most iconic films in recent memory. His credits included Kung Fu and CJ7 by Zhou Xingchi, The Western Journey: The Demon Subduing Priest, Mermaid, and Shadow directed by Zhang Yimou.

After a brief exchange of glances, Zhang Yang smiled and said, “Brother Chao, I seem to recall you saying something different during dinner that night.”

“You kept insisting on your prowess in action scenes,” Chen Jia Shang retorted. “Having a stand-in just gives you more options. So now that he’s here, you can’t pull off those stunts?”

“Oh, I can certainly do them,” Deng Zhao replied defensively. “I may not make it look pretty, but I’m sure you’ll handle it with more finesse.”

However, his words were swiftly met with a rebuke from Chen Jia Shang: “Ah, Chao, let me remind you who spent two hours yesterday afternoon failing miserably.”

“My condition was off yesterday,” Deng Zhao quickly countered. “We’ll shoot again this afternoon, and I’ll prove myself then.”

At these words, everyone present wore expressions of disbelief.

As the director, Chen Jia Shang extended a perfunctory welcome to Zhang Yang.

But since Zhang Yang was merely a minor character and stunt double, neither the celebrities nor the crew showed much enthusiasm.

Zhang Yang didn’t presume to thrust himself forward either; after finding a spot next to Deng Zhao for lunch, he moved beside Gu Xianzhao to wait.

“Childhood martial arts training?” Gu Xianzhao asked, having finished his meal.

“Yes,” Zhang Yang nodded.

It wasn’t entirely true before, but after inheriting some of Zhao Kuangyin’s abilities, he could now say it without reservation.

“Who is your master?” Gu Xianzhao asked.

“Due to certain special reasons, my teacher has instructed me not to reveal his identity,” Zhang Yang replied.

Gu Xianzhao didn’t press further and said, “Follow me, let’s have a go.”

This was half-slang, meaning to test each other’s skills.

Zhang Yang had no objections and followed Gu Xianzhao to an open space.

The two exchanged moves without using full force; Zhang Yang relied solely on the Imperial Ancestor Long Fist.

“He’s definitely well-trained with a solid foundation. Director Chen made the right choice.” Approval flickered in Gu Xianzhao’s eyes as he looked at Zhang Yang seriously. “I’ll give you the choreographed sequence we’ve designed. Regardless of whether Deng Zhao succeeds or not, when the time comes, you must perform it flawlessly.”

Zhang Yang nodded, indicating that it posed no problem for him.

Three minutes later, Gu Xianzhao approached Chen Jia Shang, a hint of surprise still lingering on his face.

“Well then, how did he do?” Chen Jia Shang asked.

Gu Xianzhao’s expression shifted dramatically as he stared intently at Chen Jia Shang for a long moment before asking, “Was this intentional?”

Chen Jia Shang blinked, clearly perplexed.

“Where on earth did you find this… phenomenon?”

Chen Jia Shang’s confusion deepened, now thoroughly bewildered by Gu Xianzhao’s question.