Chapter 66: Nazha: I Definitely Didn't Mean to Touch...

“What, my words mean nothing now?” Zhang Yang asked, his golden mask glistening as his cold stare swept across the crowd.

In any other context, this scene would have seemed utterly ridiculous, inviting nothing but snarky comments.

Yet, as they took in Zhang Yang’s armor-clad figure, no one found the sight jarring. Yes, this is how Yu Wento should look, undeniably powerful.

A wave of unmasked admiration flowed from director Li Guoli’s eyes, and he mentally resolved to personally oversee all of Zhang Yang’s scenes.

Xuanyuan Sword: Heaven’s Scar was set to film at multiple locations, with Tangren planning to establish three separate shooting units, each led by a different director. Li Guoli would serve as the overall director.

“Damn, you’re so cocky, I feel like punching you right now,” Tang Yan said, lifting her chin slightly, her spirit soaring.

Tapar Yuer, the character Tang Yan portrayed, had a mischievous, mystical aura. In Tang Yan’s interpretation, she was vivacious and confident—much like Chu Chu, the role she had played in Feng Yun 2. Both characters shared similarities with Xia Tianmei’s “sweet and simple” persona in “The Legend of the Condor Heroes,” though their portrayals diverged in some respects.

Perfect!

“Bring it on,” Zhang Yang declared, spreading his arms wide, his stance wildly defiant. “You don’t even deserve the chance to wield Xuanyuan. Come at me together, I won’t flinch a bit.”

The others were left speechless.

He hasn’t even called for “Aikson” yet, and he’s already diving into the act?

Tang Yan gritted her teeth and turned to gesture at Liu Shishi and the others. “This guy’s so arrogant. I think we should teach him a lesson.”

With those words, Tang Yan charged first, landing a punch on Zhang Yang that carried absolutely no force.

Witnessing this, a hint of a smile, subtle as the blooming of autumn chrysanthemums, blossomed across Liu Shishi’s face. She swiftly followed Tang Yan’s lead.

Seeing Tang Yan and Liu Shishi take action, Nazha knew she couldn’t let her seniors outshine her. As a newcomer, she had to fit in, and so she rushed forward as well.

She vowed it was definitely not an excuse to secretly feel Zhang Yang’s abs.

“Sweet mother of— you’re actually coming at me?!” Zhang Yang’s act crumbled instantly as he began to dodge and fend off the attacks.

Lin Gengxin cast a glance at Jiang Jinfu beside him. “Why do I get the feeling you want to join in?”

Jiang Jinfu remained silent.

After all, such a golden opportunity to openly bully Zhang Yang was indeed rare.

“All right, let’s not forget the main purpose here,” Cai Yining interjected after enjoying the spectacle for a moment.

The next step was for the six lead actors to shoot character portraits, which would be released to generate the first wave of buzz for the TV series.

“Tapar Yuer, just you wait!” Zhang Yang threatened Tang Yan.

“I’ll be waiting,” Tang Yan responded, clearly not taking the threat seriously.

The six leads then proceeded to take turns for the character portraits. As for when and how these would be released, along with orchestrating the ensuing publicity, that was naturally left to Tangren’s expertise.

By the time the publicity shots were finished, it was already evening—perfect timing for filming a night scene, which just happened to be the first scene in Xuanyuan Sword: Heaven’s Scar.

“Attention, all departments,” Li Guoli announced into his megaphone from within a cave. “Let’s aim for a winning start!”

Logically, they should have begun with Tapar Yuer’s entrance. But the production team didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on the only non-Han actor among the six leads. So now Zhang Yang and Liu Shishi would start the first scene instead.

“Aikson!”

Click.

Under the lens, the actor playing Xiangshu introduced him to Yu Wento and Dugu Ningke: “The Blood Spring comes from the depths of chaos. No one knows its origin, nor where it leads. However, it can cleanse the heart, washing away General Yu Wento’s malevolent thoughts and purifying your spirit.”

Zhang Yang, dressed in black noble attire, tilted his head slightly. A chill flickered in his eyes as he asked, “So, wouldn’t I essentially become a different person?”

Liu Shishi stared intently at Zhang Yang’s face, her gaze slightly narrowed. “I certainly would like to see what you’d look like if you were truly kind.”

Kind? Zhang Yang’s expression shifted slightly, as if reminiscing about something. Then, in the blink of an eye, a self-derisive smile flashed across his face. “Perhaps I’d become the person I was eighteen years ago.”

Xiang Shu smiled warmly and explained, “It’s hard to say. You’ll still be you, but you won’t be you…”

Zhang Yang’s expression shifted once again, and he quietly uttered, “Fascinating.”

As he spoke, he moved to stand before Xiang Shu, ensuring the camera wouldn’t need to reframe, allowing for a continuous shot.

Clasping his hands, Xiang Shu continued, “The Blood Spring will extract your malevolent spirit, leaving behind your true self—pure, kind, and genuine. Under a new identity, the general will live on in this world, fulfilling your wishes with unwavering sincerity, ultimately obtaining the Nüwa Stone.”

After patiently listening, Zhang Yang rhythmically paced the camera towards Liu Shishi, lowering his gaze to meet her eyes.

The unmasked affection in those eyes caused Liu Shishi’s heart to skip a beat, her face revealing a subtle mix of surprise and bewilderment.

Remembering she was acting, she quickly composed herself, placing her hand on Zhang Yang’s lapels. She bowed her head, feigning modesty as she straightened his collar, embodying the demeanor of a young bride.

“Excellent!” Li Guoli’s grip tightened on his leg, his excitement palpable.

In acting, adding movements can easily lead to forgotten lines or emotional detachment, potentially disrupting the scene. However, Zhang Yang’s positioning remained within the camera frame throughout, skillfully guiding his scene partner into the narrative with precise actions.

This way, there was no need for extensive post-production editing; the camera wouldn’t have to abruptly shift to whoever spoke next. It was a testament to Zhang Yang’s acting experience, and he further demonstrated his prowess by guiding his scene partner into her state of mind through his own movements.

For instance, Liu Shishi murmured to herself, “Even after obtaining the Nüwa Stone, I’m unsure what to do to turn you back into General Yu Wen.”

Xiang Shu responded from the sidelines, “Simply unseal the evil spirit within, then use this blood spring’s power to fuse the virtuous and evil souls. Yu Wento will return to this world.”

“Before that happens,” Xiang Shu continued, “General, you’ll possess an independent personality and will. Human hearts are often unpredictable. If you should lose your life in any misfortune, then General Yu Wen, you too would perish.”

Normally, the camera would focus on Xiang Shu during this dialogue.

However, Zhang Yang’s gaze towards Liu Shishi was too deep and intense. Caught off guard by his penetrating look, Liu Shishi instinctively flinched but quickly composed herself, maintaining her aloof demeanor. This unexpected scene, more captivating than the original, convinced Li Guoli to have Xiang Shu’s lines narrated off-screen instead.

After hearing this, Zhang Yang lifted his head, a complex smile playing on his lips. He reached out, removed his jacket, and handed it to Liu Shishi, “The kind one, am I?”

“Ephemera, all impermanent; each departure invites a return.

“Come, join me.

“Though I may transform, from start to finish, I shall always be Yu Wento.”

With these words, Zhang Yang walked into the center of the blood spring and sat down.

A scene unfolded, featuring an emotional performance.

Liu Shishi delivered an outstanding rendition.

Then, the Sword Fervor was born.

“Cut!”

“Good!”

Li Guoli’s satisfied voice rang out.

He stood up promptly, gathering all the actors around him.

“A-Yang, your performance was excellent. Shi Shi, you were truly carried away by his emotion. Fuzai, Nazha, make sure to pay close attention and learn from this…”

Li Guoli knew that Jiang Jinfu and Nazha were newcomers with little experience working on set.

Cai Yining had advised him to provide more direction during rehearsals, essentially coaching the new actors.

Zhang Yang’s performance had come as a pleasant surprise; using his example would greatly aid in instruction.

In truth, Lin Gengxin and others were all amazed by Zhang Yang’s display.

His blocking, dialogue delivery, body language, and ability to draw others into the scene—all these showcased remarkable talent.

No wonder… he had caught the attention of Chen Jia Shang and Zhou Xingchi, leading to his signing for films.

Since it was still the first day, there wasn’t much work to be done.

After wrapping up the first scene, everyone headed to a nearby hotel for a launch banquet.

Following the banquet, everyone returned to their respective rooms to review the script.

But Zhang Yang didn’t join them; instead, he went to work out. By the time he finished showering, it was almost midnight.

He sent messages to Nazha, Tang Yan, and Liu Shishi, but received no replies.

“One of them must be asleep,” he mused.

With anticipation, Zhang Yang closed his eyes.

“Dream On!”