Entertainment Industry: I am a top-tier movie star

It was six o'clock on Monday morning, before it was fully light.

When Chen Nianbei sat up in bed, Wang Hao, who was in the opposite bunk, was already packing his things.

"woke up?"

Wang Hao looked up at him, his voice hoarse, "I didn't sleep well last night."

"I can tell."

Chen Nianbei climbed off the bed and caught a glimpse of the faint dark circles under Wang Hao's eyes.

After packing up, the two left the dormitory with their luggage.

In late December, the mornings in Beijing are bitterly cold.

The white breath exhaled was particularly noticeable under the lights, and there were only a few students who had gotten up early to study on campus.

After hailing a taxi at the school gate, Wang Hao gave the address of Huairou Film and Television Base and then stared blankly at the rapidly receding street scene outside the window.

Chen Nianbei took out the script from her bag and, using the dim light inside the car, reviewed Jin Yichuan's key scenes once more.

The car drove for more than an hour, and it was already bright when we arrived in Huairou.

The film crew was much more lively than when they last visited, indicating that the "Brotherhood of Blades" crew had clearly started filming.

Extras dressed in flying fish costumes could be seen walking around everywhere, the props team pushed carts full of swords, and the costume team hurriedly ran by carrying stacks of costumes.

Zhang Lei was waiting for them at the entrance. When he saw the two get out of the car, he quickly walked up to them.

"They're here!"

He patted Chen Nianbei on the shoulder and then said to Wang Hao, "Director Lu told me to take you directly to the action choreographer's office. We'll practice the action sequences first today."

"So fast?" Wang Hao was taken aback.

"Hurry up with the schedule."

Zhang Lei lowered his voice, "I heard the investors are pressuring you, and Director Lu is under a lot of pressure. You guys do your best and don't make any mistakes."

Following Zhang Lei across the film set, Chen Nianbei discreetly observed her surroundings.

The atmosphere on the set of "Brotherhood of Blades" was very different from that on "Battle of Changsha".

Kong Sheng's side is a TV drama production team, with a relatively slow pace and a focus on a gradual, long-term approach;

Lu Yang's team was in the film crew, where the pace was fast and the pressure was high, with everyone's face showing they were in a rush.

Reaching a makeshift shed, Zhang Lei stopped and shouted inside, "Chief Zhao, the person's here!"

A man in his forties walked out of the shed. He was not tall, but he was strong and fit. He was wearing a black training uniform and carrying a bamboo stick.

He glanced at Chen Nianbei and Wang Hao.

"Two newcomers?" Coach Zhao asked in a loud voice.

"Yes, Chen Nianbei and Wang Hao," Zhang Lei introduced.

Coach Zhao nodded and waved to Zhang Lei, "Go ahead and get busy, I'll take care of the people."

After Zhang Lei left, Coach Zhao led the two into the shed.

The interior was quite spacious, with soft cushions and various weapons and props hanging on the walls. Several martial arts practitioners were sparring, and the wooden swords made a "crackling" sound as they clashed.

"Jin Yichuan."

Coach Zhao first looked at Chen Nianbei, "You don't have many action scenes, but there are a few key ones."

"For tuberculosis patients, movements should have a sickly feel, but not be limp, understand?"

"Understood." Chen Nianbei nodded.

Coach Zhao then looked at Wang Hao: "You're an ordinary Imperial Guard, so the movements are relatively simple. The requirement is just one word—ruthless."

Wang Hao swallowed hard: "Ruthless."

"Okay, let's stretch our legs first."

Coach Zhao pointed to the mat, "Leg stretches, shoulder openings, ten minutes."

The two put down their backpacks and began to warm up.

Chen Nianbei was very serious. He knew that this body was not very flexible and he had to stretch it out slowly.

In his past life, he would warm up for at least half an hour before filming action scenes, otherwise he was prone to injury.

Wang Hao, standing to the side, grimaced as he stretched his legs, muttering under his breath, "The last time I stretched like this was in my freshman year physical education class..."

Ten minutes later, Coach Zhao came over carrying two wooden knives.

"Jin Yichuan uses the Embroidered Spring Blade; his movements must be quick and cunning."

He tossed a wooden sword to Chen Nianbei, saying, "Watch me do it once."

Coach Zhao stopped, took a deep breath, and then began to move.

The movements were clean and efficient.

Step forward, slash, turn around, block, then stab again.

Although it was just a demonstration, the ruthlessness was already evident.

"Did you see that clearly?" Coach Zhao finished his stance.

"I saw it clearly," Chen Nianbei said.

"Then give it a try."

Chen Nianbei, holding the wooden knife, walked to the center of the mat.

He closed his eyes and went over the actions he had just performed in his mind.

Then open your eyes and begin the movement.

Step forward and chop.

His movements were slower than Coach Zhao's, but the angles and the way he exerted force were almost identical.

When he turned around, he deliberately paused for a fraction of a second to mimic the weakness of a lung disease patient.

His arm trembled slightly when he blocked, not because he was faking it, but because he deliberately relaxed his muscle control and let his body react naturally.

With the final thrust, the tip of the blade paused in mid-air, then dipped slightly.

This is a sign of weakness in patients with tuberculosis.

After completing the set of movements, Chen Nianbei sheathed his sword and looked at Coach Zhao.

The shed was quiet for a few seconds.

The sparring partners stopped at some point and all looked this way.

Coach Zhao stared at Chen Nianbei with a somewhat strange expression.

"Have you trained before?" he asked.

"No." Chen Nianbei shook her head.

"Then what...?"

Coach Zhao took two steps closer, looked him up and down, and said, "It's one thing to imitate the movements almost perfectly, but how did you manage to achieve that morbid feeling?"

"I've observed it."

Chen Nianbei put it simply, "People with lung disease have certain distinctive movements, and I tried to incorporate those into my description."

Coach Zhao didn't speak, looked at him for a few more seconds, and suddenly laughed: "Okay, this is interesting."

He turned to Wang Hao and said, "You try those moves too."

Wang Hao gripped the wooden knife, his face turning pale.

He took a deep breath, tried hard to recall Coach Zhao's movements, and then clumsily began to imitate them.

Her movements were clumsy and awkward, and compared to Chen Nianbei's earlier performance, the difference was immediately apparent.

After Wang Hao finished, his face turned red to the roots of his neck, and he lowered his head, not daring to look at Coach Zhao.

Coach Zhao simply nodded:

"That's normal for beginners. But you need to practice quickly, the crew doesn't have much time to wait for you."

"Yes, Commander Zhao," Wang Hao replied in a muffled voice.

"Chen Nianbei,"

Coach Zhao then looked at Chen Nianbei, "Do those moves again. This time, increase the speed; I want to see your limits."

Chen Nianbei stood still again.

This time he didn't deliberately slow down.

The sound of the wooden sword cutting through the air was much sharper than before.

Several martial arts performers watched intently. One of them muttered, "Has he really never trained?"

After finishing the treatment, Chen Nianbei's breathing became slightly rapid.

Coach Zhao stroked his chin, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.

"you,"

He pointed at Chen Nianbei, "Come with me. Wang Hao, you continue practicing the basic movements. Repeat those few moves until you can do them without making any mistakes."

Chen Nianbei followed Coach Zhao to the corner of the shed.

Coach Zhao took another wooden sword from the wall and got into a fighting stance: "Let's exchange a few blows."

Chen Nianbei gripped the knife tightly and nodded.

The two stood on the mat, and Coach Zhao moved first.

He struck with lightning speed and at a tricky angle, making it difficult for Chen Nianbei to parry.

But after a few rounds, he gradually found his rhythm.

Those muscle memories from the previous life began to awaken. Although the physical condition was worse, the awareness of prediction and response was still there.

Coach Zhao's knife was parried time and time again, and the surprise in his eyes became more and more obvious.

"Good lad!"

He sheathed his sword, patted Chen Nianbei's shoulder forcefully, and said, "Not bad talent!"

Chen Nianbei was jolted by the pat and laughed, "Director Zhao, you flatter me. I just have a strong ability to imitate."

"imitate?"

Coach Zhao shook his head. "Can imitation replicate this reaction speed? This kind of anticipation?"

He spoke quite loudly, and everyone in the shed heard him and turned to look.

"Commander Zhao,"

Chen Nianbei promptly changed the subject, "Is there anything else we need to be aware of regarding Jin Yichuan's action scenes?"

Coach Zhao was indeed led astray and began to explain in detail.

For the next two hours, Chen Nianbei received "special attention" from Coach Zhao, under Wang Hao's envious yet bitter gaze.

The movements were practiced again and again, and the details were meticulously refined. In the end, even the stuntmen came over to listen to the explanation.

During the lunch break, Wang Hao sat next to Chen Nianbei with his boxed lunch, ate in silence for a long time, and then whispered:

"Nianbei, tell me the truth, did you secretly sign up for some martial arts class before?"

Chen Nianbei picked up a piece of potato, thought for a moment, and said, "If I said it was talent, would you hit me?"

Wang Hao stared at him for three seconds, then suddenly laughed: "Yes. But I can't beat you."

They both laughed.

After finishing their meal, the two continued practicing.