Film and Television: The Villain's Life Begins with Joy of Life

This isn't a joke, it's a recommendation for the treasure book "Film and Television: The Villain's Life Begins with Joy of Life":

Li Yunrui was destined to be disappointed.

The banquet at the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests cemented Fan Xian's reputation as the "Poet Immortal".

The once brilliant scholar He has now entered the palace for further studies and been transferred to the position of eunuch scribe.

He and seven or eight other colleagues sat at the table, their wrists moving rapidly, barely managing to keep up with Fan Xian's pace of reciting poetry.

The ink meanders across the rice paper; before a single character is finished, the next sentence has already slipped out.

After half a day, Fan Xian finally came to an end.

He Zongwei endured the soreness in his wrist, lowered his head, and stared intently at the figure in the center of the hall.

Fan Xian.

Under the spotlight, he drunkenly recited poetry, full of vigor and high spirits.

This scene existed only in his past fantasies.

How he longed to be the one standing in the center of the hall now.

But everything he had was destroyed by Zhou Cheng.

He was now just a low-ranking eunuch, not even qualified to look directly at the nobles in the palace.

If he raises his head even an inch, it is considered utter disrespect, transgression, and usurpation.

He gritted his teeth, swallowing back the overwhelming hatred bit by bit, which transformed into even deeper resentment.

Her hatred for Zhou Cheng intensified.

After reciting the last poem, Fan Xian walked unsteadily to Zhuang Mohan's seat.

He stretched out his hand, pointed at Zhuang Mohan's nose, grinned, and reeked of alcohol:

"Master Zhuang, if we're talking about annotating poetry and prose, or becoming a literary giant, I'm not as good as you. But when it comes to reciting poetry and being a good person—"

He let out a burp.

"You are not as good as me."

After saying that, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed onto the mat, unconscious.

Zhuang Mohan sat there, his face turning pale then white, then red again.

Overwhelmed with shame, he vomited blood and fainted on the spot.

An uproar erupted inside the hall.

A banquet turned into a farce. A potential literary sage was ruined, but a "true" poet was added.

At this moment, Li Yunrui was clearly seething with hatred in his heart, but he still had to put on a look of surprise on his face.

Regardless of where Fan Xian's poems came from, the long-weak literary world of the Qing Kingdom needs Fan Xian's poems, and needs Fan Xian, the poetic genius.

She cannot question it, nor is she able to question it.

No matter how much she hated it, she could only force a smile.

Wang Qinian helped the completely drunk Fan Xian as they stumbled away from the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests.

Emperor Qing granted special permission for Eunuch Hou to personally accompany Fan Xian back to the Fan residence.

At the Fan residence, Eunuch Hou told Fan Jian and Liu Ruyu about Fan Xian's display of national power at the banquet. Fan Jian was filled with pride, while Liu Ruyu, in addition to her pride, busied herself with arranging for Fan Xian to sober up.

Wang Qinian helped the person into the bedroom to lie down, and Fan Ruoruo volunteered to stay and take care of him, persuading everyone else to leave.

The moment the door closed, Fan Xian, who had been dead drunk just a second ago, opened his eyes the next.

He quickly took out a small porcelain bottle from his sleeve, poured out two hangover pills, and swallowed them directly.

The medication took effect quickly, and he felt a churning in his stomach. He suddenly rolled out of bed, ran to the spittoon in the corner, and vomited violently.

Only when his stomach was completely empty did Fan Xian straighten up and wipe his mouth with his sleeve.

"Brother, are you alright?" Fan Ruoruo asked him with concern.

Fan Xian waved his hand, took a few deep breaths, and was already seven or eight parts sober.

He strode to the wardrobe, took out the night clothes he had prepared, and put them on in a few quick movements.

"Ruoruo, you stay in the room and pretend I'm still here. If anyone comes to visit, just say I'm so drunk I can't see anyone."

Fan Ruoruo nodded without even asking, "Brother, be careful."

Fan Xian patted her shoulder, turned around and climbed out of the back window, disappearing into the night in a few leaps.

Outside the back door, a dark figure leaned against the wall, the moonlight outlining the mask on the person's face.

Fan Xian let out a long sigh of relief, quickly moved closer, and lowered his voice:

"Great Sage, you saw the lantern but didn't even send a message beforehand? I thought you weren't coming!"

Zhou Cheng glanced at him sideways, too lazy to say anything.

Fan Xian, feeling awkward, pursed his lips and said no more. The two of them sped along the alley towards the palace, one after the other.

……

Outside the palace, a figure had been waiting for a long time.

The man was dressed in a black robe, his eyes were covered with a black cloth, and he was leaning against the shadows in the corner of the wall. If you didn't look carefully, you wouldn't notice that there was anyone there.

Fan Xian strode forward, about to speak, but Wu Zhu had already turned his head, his "gaze" falling on Zhou Cheng.

"On the day you killed Lin Gong," Wu Zhu placed his hand on the iron shovel behind him, his voice flat and emotionless, "why did you leave Fan Xian's name behind?"

Zhou Cheng paused and looked at Wu Zhu.

Under the moonlight, the two men in black robes stared at each other, and the atmosphere became somewhat awkward.

Fan Xian was taken aback, not expecting Wu Zhu to ask this at this moment.

He glanced at Wu Zhu, then at Zhou Cheng, trying to ease the tension, but he opened his mouth and didn't utter a sound.

Zhou Cheng did not deny it.

"It was I who left Fan Xian's name. However—"

He paused.

"Does anyone suspect Fan Xian is the murderer? Has anyone come to Fan Xian's door to cause trouble?"

Wu Zhu remained silent.

Zhou Cheng continued, "There's a saying, 'Go against the grain.' At the time, Fan Xian had the biggest conflict with Lin Gong, and he was also the one with the motive to kill. By leaving Fan Xian's name, I actually helped clear him of suspicion."

Wu Zhu remained silent, his face beneath the black cloth revealing no expression, but his hand slowly withdrew from the iron shovel.

Fan Xian, however, was thinking about much more at this moment.

He said uncertainly:

"Great Sage, back then... were you really doing it for my own good? Or were you really going against the grain?"

Zhou Cheng turned his head and looked at him.

Under the moonlight, the monkey face on the mask seemed to have a half-smile on its face.

"Of course not."

"I just thought it was fun."

Fan Xian: "..."

The expression on his face was priceless.

He stared at Zhou Cheng for a long time, wanting to ask him what was so fun about messing with his fellow villager!

But as he looked at him, he suddenly realized that this fellow villager might have mental problems.

The other party had mentioned that breaking through to the Grandmaster level requires making choices.

He increasingly suspected that this guy had abandoned some crucial emotion, obsession, or feeling in order to break through back then, and then turned into a lunatic.

He really wanted to know the answer.

But the words stuck in his throat.

Never mind, I didn't answer before, and I probably won't now either.

We still need him tonight.

Don't provoke people!

Fan Xian took a deep breath, forced a smile that looked worse than a grimace, and gave a thumbs up.

"Okay, you're good."

……

Having moved on from the previous topic, the three of them stopped wasting time and quickly agreed on their division of labor.

Soon, Wu Zhu was the first to scale the palace walls and sneak into the inner palace.

His movements were like a ghost, silent and stealthy. But soon, he deliberately walked to the center of the palace path, into the moonlight. He hadn't gone far when a sharp aura locked onto him from afar.

"Who goes there!"

With a low shout, a figure darted out from the darkness and stood in front of Wu Zhu.

The man was dressed as an eunuch, with a thin face and piercing eyes.

Hong Sixiang.

The stand-in who was dismissed by Emperor Qing.

The Grandmaster as speculated by the world.

Wu Zhu looked at him,

"We took the wrong turn."

After saying that, he turned and ran.

Hong Sixiang was not about to give up. He flashed away and gave chase. The two figures, one after the other, quickly disappeared into the night.

Wu Zhu lured Hong Sixiang away.

Zhou Cheng then entered the inner palace, while Fan Xian kept a distance behind him.

Zhou Cheng's movements were lighter and more natural than Wu Zhu's, as if he had blended into the night.

After sneaking around for a while, he deliberately made a noise on the rooftop—

"Click."

A tile made a soft sound.

"who!"

With a sharp shout, another figure leaped up from below and landed on the palace roof.

The man was dressed in black armor, held a longbow, and had eyes as sharp as a hawk's.

Commander of the Imperial Guards, Yan Xiaoyi.

Zhou Cheng glanced at him, then turned and left.

Yan Xiaoyi sneered and chased after him without hesitation.

Once Yan Xiaoyi's figure disappeared from sight, Fan Xian emerged from the darkness and, following the map drawn by Lin Wan'er, made his way towards the Empress Dowager's palace.

He stayed close to the wall, taking each step carefully, avoiding the patrolling imperial guards and bypassing both visible and hidden sentry posts.

......

Zhou Cheng moved slowly and leisurely across the rooftop.

He deliberately controlled his speed, suppressing it to around the ninth rank, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far from Yan Xiaoyi—so that Yan Xiaoyi could see him, yet couldn't catch up for a while.

Yan Xiaoyi followed closely behind, his gaze fixed on Zhou Cheng.

As a ninth-rank archer, Yan Xiaoyi is a unique figure among ninth-rank archers.

Normally, as long as he keeps his distance, Yan Xiaoyi has the ability to kill any ninth-rank opponent with his arrows.

There are even rumors that Yan Xiaoyi's arrows can injure a Grandmaster.

Quite a few people believe it.

Of course, Zhou Cheng knew that was just nonsense.

Unless a Grandmaster doesn't dodge or evade and doesn't use their true energy for defense, a ninth-rank archer simply cannot break through a Grandmaster's defense.

Yan Xiaoyi only had a bow and arrows in his hand, not a Barrett.

Barrett bullets travel at nearly three times the speed of sound, so even a Grandmaster wouldn't be able to react in time unless they were prepared.

Barrett's ability to kill Grandmasters isn't solely due to its power. Welcome to the boundless fantasy continent, the entrance is here:

Compared to the Barrett, the bow and arrow are far inferior.

Due to limitations in materials and force conversion, even the most mechanically sound and technologically advanced bows and arrows on Earth today can only achieve a speed of about half that of sound.

This world has true qi. Even if a ninth-rank archer draws his bow and nocks an arrow with true qi, and his strength is so great that bricks fly, the speed of the arrow is still some distance away from the speed of sound.

Zhou Cheng was able to react.

He was able to react easily.

Yan Xiaoyi chased after him for a while and finally got his chance.

Ahead lay a palace wall. As Zhou Cheng scaled it, his figure paused briefly in mid-air—

Yan Xiaoyi instantly drew his bow and nocked an arrow!

The bow is drawn to its fullest extent, and the arrow flies like a shooting star!

"Whoosh—!"

The arrow tore through the air with a sharp whistling sound, heading straight for Zhou Cheng's back!

Without turning his head, Zhou Cheng twisted his body strangely in mid-air. The arrow grazed the hem of his clothes and pierced the palace wall with a "thud." The arrow feathers shattered and the shaft disappeared into the wall at the root.

"The response is good."

Yan Xiaoyi narrowed his eyes, gave a distant compliment, and continued his pursuit without stopping.

Zhou Cheng landed on the palace wall, glanced back at him, and then continued running.

The two chased each other, weaving between the rooftops and walls of the palace.

Yan Xiaoyi would occasionally shoot an arrow from behind, each arrow aimed at a tricky and ruthless angle—sometimes at the moment he climbed over the wall, sometimes at the instant he turned around, and sometimes from an unexpected blind spot.

Zhou Cheng always managed to narrowly escape danger by taking advantage of his surroundings at the last minute.

Every single time, it was just a hair's breadth off.

Every single time was extremely dangerous.

Yan Xiaoyi became increasingly agitated as he pursued the matter, but he managed to suppress his anger.

In all these years, this is only the second person to dodge so many of his arrows in a row!

The first one was at Taiping Villa not long ago.

He didn't believe the other person could stay on edge forever.

He refused to believe he couldn't hit the target!

Zhou Cheng led Yan Xiaoyi out of the palace like a game of hide-and-seek, then led him through the streets and alleys.

After wandering around for a while, Zhou Cheng felt that it was about time.

Ahead was an open area with no obstructions on either side.

Yan Xiaoyi's eyes lit up; his opportunity had arrived!

He let out a cold laugh, his voice carrying far away:

"Let's see how you dodge this time!"

He stopped, took a deep breath, and drew his bow.

This time, he held nothing back.

He drew the bowstring to its fullest extent, and his ninth-grade true energy surged wildly into the arrow. The arrow trembled slightly, as if it could not bear the immense power, and emitted a low hum.

His gaze was so focused that the whole world seemed to consist only of that figure in front of him.

Then--

Let go!

"Whoosh—!"

The arrow, like a black lightning bolt, tore through the night sky and aimed straight for Zhou Cheng's body!

He didn't even aim for the vital points!

Because if he hits you, even if you are a ninth-rank soldier wearing full armor, you will be seriously injured even if you don't die!

The arrow was so fast that it almost matched the speed of the sound!

Zhou Cheng did not dodge.

He didn't even turn his head.

He ran ahead at a constant speed and pace, as if everything behind him had nothing to do with him.

The arrow struck instantly!

Then--

Disappeared.

Yan Xiaoyi's pupils contracted instantly.

He stared ahead in disbelief, his hand still in the position of drawing back the bow.

Where are the arrows?

Where are my arrows?

He clearly saw that the arrow did not miss; he clearly saw that the arrow struck that figure—

But the other party didn't react at all, and kept running forward as if he had only hit a phantom.

Yan Xiaoyi stood there, stunned.

Then he rubbed his eyes hard.

You read that right.

The figure continued running, disappearing into the night after a few leaps.

Yan Xiaoyi stood on that open ground, holding a bow in his hand, looking around blankly.

After a few breaths, he came to his senses, walked to the spot where Zhou Cheng should have been shot, squatted down and examined it carefully—there were no footprints, no bloodstains, nothing at all.

He followed the trajectory of the arrow and searched the entire surrounding area—

Not to mention arrows, not even a trace of arrow feathers could be seen.

Yan Xiaoyi stood up.

He, who was fearless, suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

He looked up at the sky, where the moon still hung, its light as clear as water.

Is this some kind of ghost story?

He gritted his teeth and searched in the direction Zhou Cheng had disappeared for a while before he remembered something and quickly turned around and rushed back.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was still in a daze, Zhou Cheng had already gone around in circles and walked ahead of him.

……

The Empress Dowager's bedroom.

Fan Xian took out the incense he had prepared beforehand and flicked it into the incense burner from a distance.

Soon, as the smoke dissipated, the palace maids on night watch outside the Empress Dowager's door all drifted off to sleep.

As for the Empress Dowager inside, she had long since died in her sleep.

Fan Xian gently pushed open the window and climbed inside.

The palace was lavishly furnished, with incense wafting through the air. He pinched his nose, tiptoed to the bedside, and looked at the sleeping old woman on the bed.

Empress Dowager.

One of the murderers who killed his mother, Ye Qingmei.

Fan Xian clenched his fist.

He was determined to kill his enemy, but reason told him—no.

Once the Empress Dowager dies, things will inevitably escalate, the entire capital will be shaken, and countless people will die as a result.

He couldn't bring himself to kill countless people for his own personal grudges.

He took a deep breath, suppressed the murderous intent in his heart, squatted down, pushed the Empress Dowager aside, and reached under the bed.

Hidden compartment.

Sure enough, there was a hidden compartment.

Fan Xian gently pulled open the hidden compartment, where a key lay quietly.

The key had an ancient and unusual shape and was made of a special material; it was exactly what he was looking for.

He put the key into his pocket, carefully restored the hidden compartment to its original state, and then left the palace the way he came.

……

In a secluded alley outside the palace, several people had been waiting for a long time.

Chen Pingping sat in a wheelchair, with Wang Qinian standing behind him.

Beside them was a gaunt old man carrying a large wooden box.

Locksmith.

Fan Xian strode over, nodded to the group, and said nothing more.

The locksmith took the key, examined it carefully by the light of the fire Wang Qinian handed him, then opened the wooden box, took out his tools, and began to replicate it.

His movements were incredibly fast and steady. Files, carving knives, sandpaper—all sorts of tools flew through his hands, along with some bottles and jars, creating a dazzling spectacle.

About 15 minutes later, the locksmith stopped what he was doing.

He used tools to remove the replica key from the bottle filled with some kind of mysterious liquid, wiped it dry, and then compared it with the real key—it was almost identical, even the patina on the surface was imitated perfectly.

He tucked the real key into the innermost part of his body, and with the fake key in hand, sneaked back into the palace.

The Empress Dowager's palace remained quiet.

Fan Xian sneaked in, put the fake key back in the hidden compartment, and restored everything to its original state. He glanced at the sleeping Empress Dowager on the bed, gritted his teeth, and turned to leave.

We returned via the same route without any incidents.

Just as he was about to leave the inner palace area, several figures walked by in the corridor.

Fan Xian paused, instinctively shrinking into the shadows of the corner.

He recognized the woman at the head of the group. The lamplight from the side of the corridor illuminated her face, revealing her to be Li Yunrui's personal maid.

There was another person following behind her.

The man was dressed in a black robe, wrapped from head to toe, obscuring his face.

The two walked hurriedly towards Guangxin Palace.

Fan Xian's gaze sharpened.

He almost mistook someone for someone else.

The black robe looked very similar to the attire of his fellow villager; if it weren't for the significant difference in their build and gait, he would have almost mistaken him for someone else.

He thought for a moment, then quietly followed them.

In the side hall, the female official pushed open the door and stepped aside to let the man in black robes in.

She stood at the door, looked around warily, and then followed him inside, gently closing the door behind her.

Fan Xian walked around to the side of the side hall, found a crack in the window, and looked inside.

Inside the hall, flames flickered and the lights shone brightly.

The man in the black robe pulled down his hood, revealing an old face.

Zhuang Mohan.

Fan Xian's pupils contracted.

The literary giant of Northern Qi, who was angered to the point of vomiting blood and fainting at tonight's banquet, actually showed up here!

He was about to listen carefully to what the two were saying—

"Whoosh—!"

A sharp whistling sound suddenly rang out!

Fan Xian felt a strong sense of alarm and instinctively dodged to the side!

An arrow, whistling through the air, pierced his body and struck the pillar behind him with a loud thud, its tail flapping violently!

Fan Xian broke out in a cold sweat!

The force and speed of the arrow, and that familiar sound of it cutting through the air—

Yan Xiaoyi's arrow!

He had witnessed Yan Xiaoyi's arrows at Taiping Villa, and the power of them was still fresh in his memory!

Fan Xian dared not linger, nor did he care to see what Zhuang Mohan was about to say. With a flash, he disappeared into the darkness and desperately fled outwards.

There seemed to be footsteps following behind.

Fan Xian didn't even look back, running faster than a rabbit.

After a few breaths, Zhou Cheng emerged from the shadows.

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