Seeking good fortune and avoiding misfortune, I became a legend in the entertainment industry by avo

Chapter 195 Instructor Li's Filming Ends

All of this was observed by Ni Ni, who was touching up her makeup not far away.

She looked thoughtfully at Director Wang's anxious and frustrated back, and Zhang Qilin standing quietly to the side.

She prepared for this film for two or three years and has known Director Wang for just as long.

I know what kind of person Director Wang is; he's not usually so easy to talk to on set.

She dared to reprimand certain actors who performed poorly, including herself, to their faces without any politeness.

But when facing Zhang Qilin, Director Wang seemed like a completely different person.

He was clearly worried about Bell getting hurt, but he didn't dare say a harsh word to Zhang Qilin and could only plead in a low voice.

Who exactly is this Zhang Qilin?

Was it really just because of his good acting skills that he was noticed by Director Zhang?

Or is there some other background?

Ni Ni's curiosity was piqued.

Several months ago, she vaguely heard that some actors had been replaced during preparation.

At that time, her own situation was uncertain, so she had no time to concern herself with other people's affairs.

Now that I think about it, could the actor who was replaced have been Zhang Qilin?

If that's the case, then behind Zhang Qilin—

There was something different about the way she looked at Zhang Qilin.

Soon, the second round of filming began.

The clapperboard sounded again.

Everything will repeat itself.

Yu Mo stopped Instructor Li, apologized, and the wine bottle shattered.

When Bell again made frivolous remarks and attempted to harm Yu Mo—

Instructor Li moved again.

The movements remained swift, precise, and ruthless.

"Bang!"

Another heavy thud.

Director Wang closed his eyes and still threw him down hard, without taking any slack.

He felt like he was about to have a heart attack.

He didn't dare look at Zhang Qilin, for fear of losing control of his anger.

Zhang Yi stared intently at the screen, and after Instructor Li turned away from the monitor, he decisively shouted "Cut!"

"Good, this one is even better," Zhang Yimou said with satisfaction. "Bell's reaction after falling is more realistic, and Qi Lin's rhythm and control are more precise. That's a pass."

Director Wang's heart, which had been in his throat, finally settled down, but a cold sweat had already broken out on his back.

He rushed over to comfort Bell.

Bell lay on the ground, staring at the stained glass windows of the church dome for two seconds, stunned.

Then he laughed.

"It's alright," he said in a strong voice, "very good, very good."

He propped himself up on the ground, moved his shoulders and wrists, and made sure that every bone was still in its proper place.

"This one works," he said, looking up at Zhang Yimou. "I fell with great artistry."

This remark drew a few light laughs from the crowd, easing the tension considerably.

Director Wang also breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and looked into the distance.

Zhang Qilin stood in the shadows of the church, his back to everyone.

He wasn't talking to anyone, or even making any movement.

He just stood there, like a statue.

After spending some time with Zhang Qilin, Director Wang knew what Zhang Qilin was doing, so he didn't go over to disturb him.

The people on set began packing up their equipment, preparing for the next shot.

No one bothered Zhang Qilin; they knew it was a process he had to complete alone.

Bell stood up from the ground, took the towel handed to him by a staff member, and wiped the dust off his face.

As he wiped, he kept glancing in Zhang Qilin's direction.

He has seen many actors get so into character that they can switch back to their usual playful, angry, and dramatic personas in an instant, once a take is finished.

That's a skill, and also a professional quality.

But it's rare to see someone like Zhang Qilin, who seems to need some time to gather the other soul back into his body.

This is not a performance; it is a genuine immersion and detachment.

Most of those people were already past forty and had accumulated enough life experience to support that transition.

The young man in front of them looked to be no more than twenty years old.

Bell draped the towel over the back of the chair, not in a hurry to change her clothes.

He stood there, waiting quietly.

Two minutes later, Zhang Qilin moved.

He turned around.

Bell saw the change in that instant clearly.

When Zhang Qilin is in character, he embodies a soldier inside and out.

Now, Instructor Li is gone.

Zhang Qilin is back.

Seeing this, Bell strode towards Zhang Qilin.

Zhang Qilin had just detached himself from his role and was about to remove his makeup.

Bell had already walked up to him, opened her arms, and given him a big hug.

"Hey bro," Bell said with a laugh in English, "you hurt me badly when you fell."

Zhang Qilin patted Bell on the back and replied politely in English, "Sorry, I felt that in that situation, Instructor Li's actions—"

"No explanation needed," Bell released him, took a step back, and looked intently into his eyes. "You did a fantastic job. All I needed was realism in the performance. You're a great partner, Zhang."

Then, Bell gave a sly smile: "Of course, if you could tell me in advance next time that you're going to throw me out, I might land in a more stylish way."

Zhang Qilin was amused by him and nodded, saying, "I'll definitely do it next time."

He looked intently into Zhang Qilin's eyes: "Honestly, if there's a chance, I hope we can work together again in the future. There's something special about you that I really like."

The words were spoken softly, but they sounded exceptionally clear in the gradually quieting film set.

Director Wang, who was standing to the side, was dumbfounded. He looked at Zhang Qilin and then at Bale.

Suddenly I realized that my previous worries were a bit ridiculous.

Ni Ni also heard this.

She looked at the two of them in surprise.

Bell took the initiative to hug him and publicly expressed his hope to collaborate again.

This is an almost unimaginable recognition and opportunity for a fledgling young Chinese actor.

Her gaze toward Zhang Qilin became more complex, a mixture of curiosity and envy.

Zhang Qilin responded with a smile: "I look forward to the opportunity in the future."

Bell chatted with him for a couple more minutes with a smile before turning away, satisfied.

He felt that he could only truly connect with Zhang Qilin on set; everyone else was just too...

Zhang Qilin nodded to everyone and turned to walk towards the dressing room.

After this scene is filmed, his scenes for the day are finished.

He had one more scene to film before he finished shooting.

Two days later, in the afternoon.

Inside the Shiqiu Film and Television Base, on the roof of a four-story building riddled with holes from artillery fire.

The crew members on set each performed their respective duties.

The pyrotechnics team carefully set up the final explosion points on the rooftop and inside the building.

The props team tied ropes all over the rooftop.

Those ropes, connected to the grenade pull rings on Zhang Qilin's body, were the most crucial props in this scene.

Zhang Qilin was putting on makeup in the dressing room downstairs.

The makeup artist dyed his entire body dark red, the realistic wounds and scorch marks were shocking, his military uniform was tattered, and his face was covered in gunpowder, blood and dirt.

To film the scene of Instructor Li's sacrifice, the makeup alone took four or five hours.

After putting on his makeup, Zhang Qilin walked to the designated spot on the rooftop and slowly sat down by the broken wall.

His back was against the brick wall, his right leg was outstretched, his left leg was bent, and his hands hung at his sides.

The prop team tied the grenade's connecting rope around his waist.

Zhang Yi picked up a walkie-talkie behind the monitor and spoke through a loudspeaker across the set: "All departments, final preparations. Qi Lin, are you ready?"

Zhang Qilin raised his hand and made an "OK" gesture.

Bale stood next to the monitor. He had finished filming his scenes for the day, but he hadn't left yet because he wanted to see how Zhang Qilin would portray death.

"All groups, get ready," Director Wang said, raising the microphone and speaking in a slightly lower voice than usual. "First take, live."

The clapperboard clicked in front of the camera.

The main camera slowly zooms in, from a wide shot to a medium shot, and then to a close-up of his face.

Another camera shot from a low angle on the side, capturing every subtle moment of change in his eyes.

Zhang Qilin opened his eyes.

His eyes were fixed ahead, his gaze passing over everyone on set and landing on Purple Mountain.

He should go back to his comrades who fought alongside him.

Bell stood next to the monitor, arms crossed, motionless.

He knew what Zhang Qilin was doing.

Zhang Qilin wasn't acting out how Instructor Li died.

It was to live out the last few seconds for Instructor Li.

In the shot, Zhang Qilin's lips twitched slightly.

That wasn't a smile, or even an expression.

The corner of her mouth twitched very slightly.

That wasn't a laugh.

He was a young man who, in the last moments of his life, remembered something that warmed his heart.

Perhaps it's a road in his hometown, perhaps it's a meal his mother cooked, or perhaps it's the name of a girl he's never spoken aloud.

Director Wang shouted, "The Japanese troops are charging up!"

Zhang Qilin looked in the direction the Japanese troops should have come from, panting heavily, his eyes showing no hesitation or fear, only the duty and conviction of a soldier.

There's a bit of regret, a regret that I can no longer protect the children in the church.

As the explosives on Zhang Qilin's body detonated, he fell backward and tumbled off the edge of the building.

Zhang Qilin was suspended by wires on the outside of the building, about two meters above the ground.

His body swayed in mid-air.

The wire harness operator slowly lowered him down, and several staff members rushed to catch him, unfastened the harness, and laid him flat on the ground.

Zhang Qilin lay on the ground with his eyes closed.

His face was covered in prop blood and dust, and there were several bullet holes in his chest.

Zhang Qilin opened his eyes and smiled.

That laugh was different from the laugh he had on the rooftop earlier.

The laughter on the rooftop was Instructor Li's relieved smile.

The smile at this moment belongs to Zhang Qilin; it's the kind of smile that comes from the weariness of knowing I'm still alive.

The wire handler helped him untie the ropes while asking about the situation.

"It's nothing," his voice was a little hoarse, "I just got a little strangled by the rope."

At this moment, Director Wang walked over with a red envelope in hand, his face beaming with smiles.

"Qilin, here's a wrap-up bonus," he said, stuffing the bonus into Zhang Qilin's hand. "You've worked so hard, so very hard."

"Thank you, Director Wang."

"Let's all have dinner together tonight to see you off," Zhang Yimou said as he walked over. "It'll be at the resort, keep it simple, but you have to come."

Zhang Qilin nodded: "Okay."

Zhang Qilin went to the dressing room to remove his makeup.

The makeup artists surrounded him, carefully wiping away the blood, gunpowder, and wounds from his face.

The whole process lasted nearly forty minutes.