Chapter 58: The Legacy of the Emptiness Young Master

No one knew who Zhou Xingchi was thinking of at that moment.

Perhaps it was the actress who played Maiden Zixia, or maybe his first love to whom he owed the most.

In any case, this usually stoic actor, who never smiled or joked while filming, found himself deeply moved by these few lines of dialogue. His eyes welled up with tears, overcome by emotion.

Through the camera lens, Wen Zhang’s face showed a hint of surprise as Shu Qi deviated from the script.

This instinctive reaction couldn’t have come at a better time.

It proved that Wen Zhang was a true actor, diving into the moment with his whole heart. He tightly embraced Shu Qi, closed his eyes, and began to cry.

“Cut.”

Zhou Xingchi’s voice, tinged with a slight choke, rang out. But he quickly composed himself, a hint of approval in his eyes. “That scene is good, very good.”

A wave of applause erupted in the studio.

It was a round of thunderous claps for Wen Zhang and Shu Qi’s exquisite performance, as well as a silent ovation to Zhang Yang’s masterstroke suggestion that had unlocked the scene.

Everyone present was familiar with the notorious temper of a blocked Zhou Xingchi. They knew that Zhang Yang’s was their savior in times of script trouble.

“Now, mah peeps know why I gave that boy Zhang Yang credit as mah script consultant, right?” Zhou Xingchi raised the microphone high, standing with his signature macho pose.

Adoration flickered in everyone’s eyes as they turned to Zhang Yang with newfound appreciation.

Back when Kung Fu was being filmed, Zhou Xingchi had initially paired up with Hong Jinbao, another powerhouse in the industry. However, due to the latter’s inability to keep up with Zhou Xingchi’s vision, the collaboration ended bitterly, nearly turning into a lifelong grudge.

Zhang Yang, on the other hand, could effortlessly follow Zhou Xingchi’s wild imagination and offer practical, feasible suggestions—an ability that garnered him widespread admiration.

“Wow, A-Yang, you’re truly impressive,” Huang Bo remarked as he approached Zhang Yang. His bald head and pale face made for a somewhat unsettling sight.

More frightening, however, was the demonic monkey Sun Wukong standing beside him. Portrayed by actor Ge Xingyu, the character embodied the very essence of the mischievous monkey from the original novel.

“Just happened to strike upon an idea; I was quite lucky,” Zhang Yang responded with a humble smile.

Being reborn is indeed a feat of its own, he thought. He gladly accepted any praise, fully aware that this opportunity wouldn’t have come his way otherwise. Yet, he knew the idea hadn’t sprung from his own mind alone and refused to take undue credit.

“Luck is a skill in itself,” Zhou Xingchi chimed in. “Come with me, Yang-zi, and let’s tweak this script.”

“I’m hardly skilled enough to edit—just here to offer suggestions,” Zhang Yang said, smiling as he stepped forward without hesitation.

The title of “screenwriter” that Zhou Xingchi had bestowed upon him wasn’t merely for show within the film crew. It would also be prominently displayed on the screen during the movie’s opening credits—a recognition of immense value.

Naturally, he conducted himself in a manner befitting his role.

“Director, I think we could try this…” Zhang Yang, holding the script, offered several suggestions after carefully reviewing it and comparing it to the film he had envisioned.

However, he didn’t reveal everything at once—showing too much brilliance risked giving away his true origins, and holding back a bit was also beneficial for building relationships and making new connections.

After providing these general suggestions, he seized the chance to observe and learn the techniques of helming a film. Although he had been a director in his previous life, he could never compare to Zhou Xingchi.

As evening approached, Zhou Xingchi, pleased with the surprising speed of filming, treated Zhang Yang and the other main cast members to drinks and a late-night meal.

By the time Zhang Yang returned to the hotel room, took a shower, and fell into bed, it was nearly midnight.

After sending goodnight messages to Liu Yifei, Huo Ba, Liu Shishi, and the other women, he used an opportunity point and silently wished, “I want to enter the dream realm.”

The Western Journey: The Legend of Prince Kongxu!

A wave of drowsiness washed over him. The experience from before repeated itself; Zhang Yang felt as if the heavens and earth were spinning, his consciousness arriving in a new world.

Hiss.

Beneath the scorching sun, Zhang Yang struggled to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow, noticing cuts on his hands and torn clothing.

As some memories resurfaced, he realized his current situation: He was sixteen years old, on the way to the provincial capital for the imperial examination, when he encountered a tiger spirit halfway through his journey.

The study attendant and guards had died protecting him, and while escaping, he fell down a steep slope and plummeted into a crevice between two rocks.

Sighing with relief, Zhang Yang crawled out from the rocks, finding himself in a strange basin-shaped valley.

Under fate’s guidance, he discovered a cave where a corpse lay, with a box placed in front of it.

Opening the box, nine swords suddenly flew out, emitting sword qi that began to cleanse Zhang Yang’s body. Simultaneously, techniques for cultivation appeared in his mind, along with a specific sword technique called the “Void Sword Technique.”

From that moment on, he became a self-taught exorcist, gaining renown across the land for his mastery of the Void Sword Technique.

However, his impatience led to rash actions; during several pursuit attempts at the tiger spirit, he injured his foundation, leaving his body exceedingly weak.

To conserve energy—partly for practical reasons and partly to maintain an air of mystery—he hired four “maidservants” to move him around.

When the scripture pilgrim arrived and learned of a pig spirit’s appearance, Zhang Yang made a grand entrance.

Ultimately, he engaged in battle with the demon monkey who had escaped from Five Fingers Mountain.

Deploying all nine swords, he managed to suppress the monkey.

With the Nine Swords combined, they could even overpower the Golden Monkey Rod.

But in truth, the monkey was merely toying with them. When it truly struck, even the greatest exorcist was nothing more than a joke.

At last, Prince Kongxu, the self-proclaimed greatest exorcist in the world, was reduced to ashes amidst the monkey’s roars.

“Holy shit.”

On the large bed, Zhang Yang jolted awake, drenched in sweat.

After a long moment, he only fully realized what had happened when his phone’s alarm sounded, momentarily tempted to hurl an expletive.

That dream had been far too real. It felt as if he had personally experienced the entire life of Prince Kongxu, including his final death at the hands of the demon monkey.

What an absolutely vivid nightmare.

“At least I didn’t wet the bed; that would’ve been truly embarrassing.”

Zhang Yang lifted the quilt, glanced down, then stepped out and headed towards the bathroom while removing his clothes.

As warm water washed over him, he focused on the Opportunity Manual:

Zhang Yang was rendered speechless by these three inheritances.

Environment shapes temperament, and appearance reflects one’s essence. These concepts may sound mystical, but they’re rooted in reality. Even the idea of a celebrity’s “red aura” nurturing those around them has some truth to it.

The scholarly air he’d cultivated would be invaluable for playing cultured roles in the future. It also allowed him to feign refinement when the situation called for it, making him an even more versatile actor.

The Hollow Sword Technique wasn’t exclusive to young master Kongxu—it was a set of 81 practical, lethal sword forms accessible to ordinary people. If Zhang Yang were to become a medieval hero, he’d undoubtedly make history, perhaps even rivaling figures like Jing Ke or Wang Yue.

As for this “vital kidney energy”…

Zhang Yang cast a glance downward. “No wonder I feel more… lively than usual.”

The bad news: his pipe dream of gaining extraordinary powers through the Opportunity Handbook had crumbled to dust.

The good news: these rewards could effortlessly propel him to the pinnacle in various fields where commoners excel.

After showering, Zhang Yang joined his small crew for a buffet breakfast before heading to the set.

Draped in Prince Kongxu’s attire, he didn’t rush into makeup. Instead, he sought out a prop manager for a practice sword, then retreated to an open space. There, he devoted himself entirely to honing each of the eighty-one sword forms. Only when he’d grown proficient in all of them did he finally set aside the blade.

It was then that he realized he’d unconsciously drawn a crowd of staff members, several of whom had pulled out their phones to capture the spectacle.

Zhou Xingchi stepped forward, his applause ringing out, his admiration clear. “Impressive, Yangzhang. I didn’t realize you were such a skilled duellist!”

“I’m tempted to add more sword fight scenes now that I’ve seen that display.”

Zhang Yang: ”…”

I’m turning into the go-to guy for extra scenes, he mused.