Chapter 60: Killing Again! Big Honey Honey's Black Material Delivered to the Door?

“Well, I suppose it’s not entirely out of the question,” Zhang Yang replied, his tone surprisingly open.

He had once experienced the entire lifetime of Prince Kongxu from the world of Western Journey: The Demon Subduer. That world, let’s say created by Zhou Xingchi, was teeming with absurd and nonsensical details in its everyday life.

Even though many memories had faded after he woke up, the key experiences were still etched in his mind, ready to be recalled and applied at will.

This was why his portrayal of Prince Kongxu in the film was so flawless—no one could find fault with it. When acting, he became Prince Kongxu himself; there was no one who understood emptiness better than him!

Given this wealth of knowledge, adapting it into a screenplay for a lighthearted, absurd comedy would be a breeze.

If he could collaborate with Zhou Xingchi, he’d have access to the latter’s popularity, resources, and filmmaking team to advance his own career. It would be the perfect opportunity to “borrow a chicken to lay an egg”: by the end of it, he’d secure the title of “China’s First On-Screen Male Lolita.”

“Having such an idea is fantastic,” Zhou Xingchi said, his face splitting into a pleased smile. “When we’re free, let’s discuss it further and work on a draft script together. I have two projects in the pipeline that need substantial startup funding. Once they’re complete, we’ll begin shooting The Demon-Subduing Emptiness Prince.”

Zhang Yang not only had no qualms with this decision but actively supported it.

If he guessed correctly, the two projects Zhou Xingchi mentioned were Moments in Purgatory: Super Cute Strike Squad and Mermaid. He’d set aside the former for now, but the latter was a massive production with over 400 million yuan invested. It went on to gross over 3 billion yuan at the box office, making it an undeniable hit.

Farewell, Demon was expected to hit theaters during the 2013 Lunar New Year season. Revenue shares typically took about six months to trickle down, so that’s when Zhou Xingchi could finally start his next project. But by then, those two bloodsuckers from Huateng were sure to have their way, and even a court battle wouldn’t change that.

To add insult to injury, the Xiang family would also target him, further delaying all his projects.

Given these circumstances, Vacant Cub simply wasn’t the right fit.

This might be my chance to make some extra cash, Zhang Yang thought. Then, when the time comes for “Mermaid,” I can step in with both charity and self-interest on my side. Plus, I’ll turn a tidy profit. And investing in “Vacant Cub” afterward will be a logical next step.

On the surface, he maintained his usual deferential demeanor. “I’m all for it,” he said, his voice dripping with conviction. “Please don’t hesitate to give me a call, Director Zhou. I’ll block out time in my schedule right away.”

Unaware that Zhang Yang was already envisioning him as his “savior,” Zhou Xingchi smiled and swiftly changed the subject. “Since you believe this character warrants a full-length movie, I think it’s crucial to build momentum beforehand. We should add more scenes involving him in ‘The Demon-Subduing Conqueror of the West.’ What do you think?”

Zhang Yang hesitated… So, he just wants to give me extra screen time, huh?

This time, however, he didn’t decline. For one, his filming schedule was ahead of pace; it was only May 8th today, leaving ample time for additional scenes. Moreover, the new scenes proposed by Zhou Xingchi were indeed well-crafted—they wouldn’t disrupt the overall plot while offering more depth to the Hollow Prince character.

“Aikson!”

Cut!

The final act of the Hollow Prince began.

Initially, Zhang Yang held the box and performed some exaggerated motions—the post-production team would later add special effects, creating the illusion of nine swords flying out to menace the demonic monkey. The sequence promised to be both stylish and commanding.

The nine swords briefly restrained the demonic monkey. After another powerful strike, the creature dramatically cleaned its ear.

“Cut!” Zhou Xingchi called for a pause. The props team promptly delivered the golden rod to Ge Xingyu and a longsword to Zhang Yang, then filming resumed.

Next came the added scene: Ge Xingyu, suspended on wires, leaped through the air and swung the rod at Zhang Yang. The latter, embodying the Hollow Prince, combined the nine swords in his hand and countered with a swift strike. The two engaged in close combat midair, exchanging blows for over a minute in an intense hand-to-hand exchange.

Zhang Yang wielded his longsword against Ge Xingyu’s staff, the sequence of showcase maneuvers entirely from Zhang Yang’s imagination. For someone mastering the Hollow Sword Technique and the Imperial Ancestor Dragon Coiled Staff, it was child’s play—each move ferocious yet maintaining elegance and difficulty.

“Shu Qi mentioned A-Yang’s martial skills are impressive; seems that reputation isn’t unfounded,” Huang Bo remarked, clearly impressed as he chatted with his friends.

In mid-air, after a series of exchanges, Zhang Yang sent Ge Xingyu flying with a single punch.

Following this were some special effects scenes: the monkey demon blocking a massive flying sword with its golden staff. Approaching Prince Kongxu, it smiled amiably, “Not bad, having a great time today, aren’t we?”

It was evident that earlier, the monkey demon had been too eager, purely toying with Prince Kongxu.

Prince Kongxu’s face appeared even paler than usual, his smile forced. “Ah, right, just playing around. I’m having fun too. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off now, oh~”

As Zhang Yang turned to make an escape motion, Ge Xingyu roared at the sight.

“Cut! Good take!” Zhou Xingchi announced.

Once the actors finished their scene, he led the applause. “Congratulations on your last day, young master Zhang Yang.”

That evening, Zhou Xingchi generously treated the entire crew to dinner at a nearby farm stay, celebrating Zhang Yang’s successful completion of his scenes.

The next day, after Zhang Yang and his small team finished their self-serve breakfast, they returned to the set of Journey to the West: Demon Subduing.

Although the actor he was playing had finished filming, Zhang Yang didn’t plan to leave the crew just yet. Instead, he decided to stay on the pretext of wanting to learn more. Besides, he still held a screenwriting role.

“Today, I have some personal business to take care of,” Zhang Yang explained to Nazha. “Stay with the crew and keep learning. I’ve already told Xing Ye, Bo-ge, and the others. They’ll look after you. If anything comes up, you can always talk to Sister Xiangwan.”

After giving Nazha some more earnest instructions, Zhang Yang called Brother Liu, his driver, to prepare for their departure.

“Why can’t I go with you?” Nazha asked, resentment nearly overflowing from her eyes. She had been at Zhang Yang’s side almost constantly for nearly two months, so the thought of today’s separation left her feeling uneasy all over.

“I’m heading back to my place in Macang,” Zhang Yang replied, a hint of a smile in his eyes. “I don’t think it’s really appropriate for you to come along.”

ZZ, while eager to retort with a “Why not?” bit her tongue, remembering that Cai Yining and Mo Xiangwan were nearby. Who knew what they might repeat behind closed doors? She decided to play along, feigning disinterest as she waved her hand. “Never mind, then. Just bring back some good food when you’re done.”

“Absolutely,” Zhang Yang agreed without hesitation. “I’ll make sure it’s something you’ll love.”

Based on his experience, he could tell Nazha’s determination was currently at its peak.

However, her love-stricken mind was still evident, with traces of her hidden emotions barely concealed. Previously, Liu Yifei had been part of their film crew, and now Zhang Yang considered joining the “Xuanyuan Sword” production. He decided against rushing into any decision.

Instead, he viewed this as an opportunity for a deep-seated game of retreat and advance.

“Brother Liu, let’s roll out,” Zhang Yang called to driver Liu Guoqiang, signaling their departure.

Hours later, the vehicle pulled into a residential community in Macang’s Binjiang district.

There, they found a spacious condo that Zhang Yang’s parents had left him when they divorced. Currently valued at only a few million, it was expected to skyrocket to tens of millions post-G20.

“Brother Liu, if you’re free, feel free to explore West Lake or find a tea house or café nearby to relax,” Zhang Yang instructed. “I have some family matters to attend to today, so unfortunately, I can’t invite you home as a guest.”

After seeing Liu Guoqiang off, Zhang Yang returned home, showered, and changed into an all-black outfit. He donned a mask and a cap, grabbed a high-end photography set worth tens of thousands, and drove to the parking lot. From there, he headed towards his next destination.

“This place, at this exact time? It must be related to that event.”

“I wonder who truly holds the moral high ground.”

“Could we uncover some juicy dirt on Great Miss Honey’s diva antics?”

“Or perhaps some scandal involving that gay director’s unreasonable behavior?”