Chapter 51: Instantly Becoming a Money-Making Guru

Liu Yifei didn’t appreciate Zhang Yang’s comment.

Did she need to get hurt to fit the character?

But on the surface, she didn’t directly contradict Zhang Yang or question him in person; instead, she quietly listened.

In front of Director Chen and Gu Xianzhao, she didn’t want to undermine Zhang Yang.

“What are your thoughts?” Gu Xianzhao was excellent at listening to others’ inspirations, especially from those he favored.

“In the original work, Wu Qing had two master skills: her mastery of concealed weapons and unparalleled lightness technique. Director Chen mentioned that this Wu Qing would have mind reading abilities and telekinesis, being proficient in solving cases and using concealed weapons. I think…” Zhang Yang generously shared his insights.

Although he knew the future audience’s overall evaluation of the movie, his words held little weight; thus, he didn’t want to say more.

In the original version of the film, Wu Qing’s unparalleled lightness technique was hardly showcased at all. To add depth to her character, she inexplicably gained the ability to read minds. However, this weakened her aspect of keen deductive skills. Additionally, for using concealed weapons, the script favored telekinetically controlling her arsenal, replacing her extraordinary martial techniques with special effects that lacked any real impact.

In this movie, Liu Yifei essentially relied on her appearance, endured beatings while enduring the side of love on top.

Since both Chen Jia Shang and Gu Xianzhao asked him, he refrained from pointing out what might be wrong and only offered suggestions.

“Wu Qing sits in her wheelchair, so it’s like her legs. If we want to show off her martial arts skills, we’ll have to rely on her upper body movements and the wheelchair itself.

“We can add some hidden weapons to the wheelchair for attacking enemies and evading, using qinggong techniques. In terms of hand movements, Di Die-ge is a pro, he can design whatever he wants. For example, we could add a scene where someone sneak attacks Yi Fei-jie, and she fends off the enemy with her hands, easily defending herself.”

After patiently listening, Gu Xianzhao pondered briefly before looking at Chen Jia Shang. “Director Chen, how do you think we should arrange it? I’m fine with your plans.”

His unspoken words were clear: he thought Zhang Yang’s idea was good, and he was confident in carrying out his own responsibilities.

Chen Jia Shang also found Zhang Yang’s suggestion reasonable and nodded in approval. “I’ll have the props team improve the wheelchair and try out the shooting effects. You focus on designing a set of movements for Yi Fei.”

Mid-sentence, Chen Jia Shang turned to Zhang Yang. “Let’s add a scene where, after being transformed into a holy weapon, Cen Chong sneak attacks Wu Qing but is beaten back. Throughout, Wu Qing stays seated in her wheelchair.”

Zhang Yang: ”…”

Liu Yifei: ”…”

Neither had expected to actually get more screen time; it was a somewhat unexpected turn of events.

“No problem,” Gu Xianzhao agreed, calling Zhang Yang to leave together. “Yang-zi, let’s design some movements together.”

“Aunt Liu, Yi Fei-jie, I’m off,” Zhang Yang said, taking his leave.

After exchanging a few more courtesies, Chen Jia Shang took his leave.

Liu Yifei spoke with surprise, “I didn’t expect A-Yang to add more scenes for me.”

She wouldn’t have minded if it were just additional filming hours, as long as her pay was commensurate. However, any role-expanding scenes were always welcome for actors and celebrities alike.

Meanwhile, Zhang Yang followed Gu Xianzhao to a quiet spot.

“Don’t worry about Yifei’s scenes for now,” Gu Xianzhao said with a serious expression. “The priority is the night battle scene. How can we make Wu Qing’s performance truly stand out?”

“I don’t think we need to worry about that,” Zhang Yang replied, his face calm. “The night battle is the final showdown. Logically, Wu Qing would rely heavily on stealth weapons and special moves. That’s primarily a job for the VFX team later on.”

Jokingly, Zhang Yang added, “If Junior wants to feel more involved, he could design a complex set of gestures for Yifei to make it look like she’s unleashing her ultimate move.”

Gu Xianzhao nodded thoughtfully at this suggestion. “Then let’s leave that set of gestures to you, Brother.”

Zhang Yang’s smile froze. …

Was he just volunteering me for extra work?

“But I’m just a fight scenes substitute, not a professional fight choreographer,” Zhang Yang tried to clarify.

“You can be an assistant instructor then,” Gu Xianzhao said, placing a reassuring hand on Zhang Yang’s shoulder.

During the filming of TV shows and movies, a single martial coordinator is typically hired. Their responsibilities include overseeing the choreography of action scenes, ensuring both the authenticity and visual appeal of the fight sequences. They often cultivate or employ a team to assist them.

A martial assistant is a member of this team.

“What’s the deal with being a martial assistant?” Zhang Yang’s eyes shifted slightly.

Gu Xianzhao paused, then rubbed his fingers together suggestively. “We’ll pay you by the day.”

Zhang Yang furrowed his brow. “Hey, bro, I’m already a supporting actor and Chaoge’s stand-in. I might even have to be Zhenge’s proxy. Adding martial assistant duties on top might be too much for me to handle.”

Gu Xianzhao considered this. “So you’re declining?”

“No.” Zhang Yang shook his head, mimicking Gu Xianzhao’s earlier gesture. “Just add more to the pay.”

Gu Xianzhao was momentarily speechless.

What a straightforward and unassuming young man.

He agreed to Zhang Yang’s demand, promising a daily subsidy of five hundred yuan for his martial assistant duties.

“Boss, what do you think about this?” Zhang Yang immediately began demonstrating a set of moves.

Internally, Gu Xianzhao was impressed—how quick and adaptable these young minds were!

“Excellent. Let’s go with this set.”

Zhang Yang wasn’t surprised by Gu Xianzhao’s decision.

The moves he demonstrated weren’t original; they were directly copied from a female character in an upcoming 3D anime.

“I’ll go teach these to Miss Yifei,” Zhang Yang said, turning back to Liu Yifei’s direction.

“What brings you back here?” Liu Yifei asked.

“I’ll show you the moves you need to learn.”

“You figured it out that quickly?” Liu Yifei asked, puzzled.

“The world of geniuses is beyond your comprehension.”

“Oh, please! Show me what you’ve got.” Liu Yifei’s expression was dismissive, but her curiosity was piqued.

Zhang Yang immediately began to mimic a series of gestures, tracing the pattern of the Little Medicine Fairy’s Calamity-Dispelling Poison Body Seal.

Liu Yifei watched, her attention captivated by these intricate hand seals.

“What, you can’t learn it?” Zhang Yang prompted.

“Of course not!” Liu Yifei retorted.

Half an hour later, Zhang Yang grumbled, “You’re as dense as a brick. You’ll never inherit Aunt Liu’s talent at this rate.”

Liu Yifei bristled, refusing to back down. She devoted herself fully to mastering the movements.

Soon, Chen Jia Shang announced the start of filming.

That evening’s scene required the use of a flying cat camera, specifically designed for this “Supernova Detective” action flick. The highlight was a climactic battle between a group of heroes and the God of Wealth, allowing Gu Xianzhao to flaunt his reputation as the “Wire King” to the fullest.

Fifteen crane arms were positioned on set, providing both lighting and wire support.

The most challenging shot involved soaring from one side of the lake, crashing into a memorial archway, and then descending steadily.

Combining the flying cat with traditional wire work proved immensely difficult; Deng Zhao attempted it once before deciding to abandon the idea.

Zhang Yang also tried it once, but during the actual shoot, he executed it flawlessly in a single take, even adding a few extra flourishes.

“Ugh, always showing off,” Liu Yifei grumbled under her breath. Only Liu Xiaoli heard, eliciting a stifled giggle from her.

The evening’s shoot went unusually smoothly.

It wasn’t just that night. For the next few days, whenever it was Deng Zhao’s action scene, Zhang Yang aced it in virtually one take. He only filmed additional versions when he and Gu Xianzhao had new creative impulses to explore different effects.

Zhang Yang’s portrayal of his character, Cen Chong, was particularly vivid and compelling, excelling in both action and drama.

Zheng Zhongji’s eyes gleamed with envy, and he once again proposed that Zhang Yang should also serve as his fight double. “I won’t encroach on Deng Zhao’s territory. I’d only need A-Yang to fill in during the scenes where Murderous Pursuit is present. That might be arranged,” he winked.

Old Chen, who greatly appreciated and valued Zhang Yang’s contributions, asked him for his thoughts.

“A-Yang usually doesn’t agree to such gigs, but he’s open to negotiating a higher fee!” Gu Xianzhao suddenly chimed in.

Zhang Yang knew Gu Xianzhao was teasing him.

But money was far from his only motivation.

Agreeing to be Gu Xianzhao’s martial arts assistant offered more than just financial reward.

As for substituting for Zheng Zhongji, he had no interest; he was a serious actor, after all.

“A proper payment will be arranged, of course,” Zheng Zhongji quickly assured him. “And I can also introduce A-Yang for an audition at Sir Walky’s upcoming Overkill.”

“I accept!” Zhang Yang declared.