Reborn in the Chinese Entertainment Industry: You're a Director, But You're a Casanova?

Tong Yao bit her lip tightly, tears welling up in her eyes. But she dared not let them fall, afraid of ruining her freshly applied foundation.

Ha, you can't even handle this? You'll be crying when the computer boots up later.

After criticizing his "white moonlight" (ideal love), Niu Yuehua turned to look at Tang Yan beside him.

Tang Yan had already changed into a bodycon skirt and black stockings that she had bought at a high price, and her figure was absolutely stunning.

But she was happily making a peace sign in front of the mirror, her eyes still as clear and naive as a college student's.

Niu Yuehua sighed, took out a pair of cheap high heels from a snakeskin bag, and threw them over.

"Wear this."

Tang Yan pouted, and as soon as she stepped into the shoe, her face contorted in pain; the shoe squeezed her toes so tightly they hurt.

"Oh dear, Director Niu, do you know my shoe size? These shoes are too small, they're so tight, I can't stand up in them," Tang Yan complained irritably.

"Yes, just keep this irritated expression. You don't have much acting skill, so you have to rely on props to create some physical sensation."

"This real feeling that comes from the body is something your acting can't replicate. Hold on, or I'll fine you if you dare change your shoes."

Tang Yan felt wronged, like an incompetent husband, seething with anger, wearing tight high heels, but daring not to speak out.

At 11 p.m., at the entrance of a newly built commercial street, Mr. Zhao, a good friend of Mr. Wang, the coal boss, was waiting.

"Director Niu, there's nobody here at this hour. Shouldn't we be filming a promotional video when the lighting is better and there are more people around?"

Niu Yuehua called over Old Zhao, who was in charge of the lighting, and he chimed in, "Director, how do we set up the lighting?"

Niu Yuehua pointed to an old street lamp that was flickering on and off, and then to the lights on a restaurant sign in the distance.

"Just use this, no need for lighting, and don't waste a single penny of electricity."

"Hide half of the male lead's face in shadow, leaving a bit of pale green light to shine on the second female lead's red skirt. I want that kind of suffocating texture."

Mr. Zhao was dumbfounded: "Director Niu, this is a promotional video for a commercial street. How can something like this from the underworld attract customers?"

"Mr. Zhao, this is called reverse marketing." Niu Yuehua, full of wicked ideas, patted Mr. Zhao on the shoulder.

"There's no life on this street right now, so I can't capture that fake feeling. I'll shoot it with a sense of the bizarre and exotic. Young people these days are rebellious, and they'll fall for that."

Mr. Zhao swallowed hard, seemingly understanding, and then, as a temporary substitute, helped Niu Yuehua set up a cordon.

"Alright, everyone in position, scene one, shot one, Action."

In the first major scene, after the camera was set up, Zhang Yi sat on a small stool. In order to live up to his 50 yuan salary, he tried his best to perform well, portraying the tragic expression of Jing Ke, who bravely sacrificed himself to assassinate the King of Qin.

"Card."

Niu Yuehua pointed at Zhang Yi's nose and started yelling, "Zhang Yi, what are you doing? Are you going to join the revolution?"

"You're just a lowly office worker who could lose your job at any moment. You're willing to throw away your dignity as a man to save her shop. What are you pretending to be, some big shot?"

Niu Yuehua walked over, grabbed Zhang Yi's shoulder, and pressed him down hard.

"You're like a stray dog ​​guarding its food, and Tang Yan is the butcher with the bone."

"Eating this rice is not heroic, it's humiliating, it's lowly. It's the helplessness of forcing yourself to swallow it when you're absolutely disgusted."

"Slouch down, bow your head, eat like a dog, and start over."

Zhang Yi was shocked by the scolding. A glimmer of understanding flashed in his eyes. He put away his tragic demeanor, his aura collapsed, and he hunched over like a lump of mud.

Feng Chengcheng, the stagehand who had been brought in for a part-time job, served a bowl of fried rice with industrial chili extract that Niu Yuehua had specially bought from the market. The pungent spiciness could be smelled from a distance.

"Action".

Old Li carried the equipment, holding a zoom lens, the lens naturally shaking, creating a sense of voyeurism.

Zhang Yi's hands trembled as he scooped up a large spoonful of fried rice and stuffed it into his mouth, without any skill, driven entirely by physiological instinct.

The terrifying spiciness instantly destroyed Zhang Yi's taste buds. His face flushed bright red, and tears and snot streamed uncontrollably from his nose. Severe spasms in his stomach caused him to curl up in pain.

"Swallow it, don't stop, look up at the window on the left." Niu Yuehua's voice was like a devil whispering in your ear.

While painfully chewing fried rice, Zhang Yi looked through the dim glass at the beautiful, white moonlight nursery rhyme across the street.

Amidst humiliation and pain, a strange, relieved, and twisted pleasure unconsciously surfaced in Zhang Yi's eyes.

It's a kind of perverse pleasure where I feel like I'm going to hell for you, and I'm falling into this wickedness.

Beside him, Tang Yan, wearing a tight red dress and black stockings, her face contorted with annoyance and harshness from being squeezed by ill-fitting high heels, was looking down at him with the same disdain one might show a dog.

Seeing the twisted pleasure on Zhang Yi's face, she herself couldn't help but show a morbid joy that she herself didn't even realize.

The three figures met in a fateful encounter amidst the oppressive, suffocating, and ghastly green light.

Pure love collapses, and evil descends.

"Cut!" Niu Yuehua shouted abruptly.

Old Li carried the machine, his palms covered in cold sweat.

"This is too eerie. I've been filming TV for over a decade, and I've never seen such a depressing scene. The way this man looks at me is giving me the creeps."

At this moment, Tong Yao was standing behind the window, watching Zhang Yi's strange expression of pain mixed with a hint of enjoyment, which made everyone tremble with fear.

Tang Yan was also terrified by the sadistic nature she had unconsciously revealed just now, which gave her goosebumps.

The entire set was filled with a mix of emotions: humiliation, panic, immorality, self-loathing...

Niu Yuehua, behind the monitor, drank down this whole film, which was full of NTR-like emotions.

His demonic energy, which was at the peak of the Body Refinement stage, finally broke through.

Everyone in the crew was still immersed in fear and repression, and no one dared to speak.

Niu Yuehua, who had just broken through, casually said to Zhang Yi, who was still dry heaving next to the trash can:

"In a good mood, wipe your mouth, keep one, and eat it again."

……

A few days later, at the management office of the commercial street.

Niu Yuehua, accompanied by two beautiful assistants, came to show the finished product to Boss Zhao.

Old Li's rough, shaky handheld camera immediately gives people a strong sense of voyeurism and oppression.

In the video, Zhang Yi is wearing faded work clothes, looking like a weary, lowly laborer.

He pushed open the door of Shen's Clear Soup Noodles. The receptionist, with her cool and stubborn makeup, looked exactly like Zhang Ziyi's nursery rhyme. She brought out a steaming bowl of clear soup noodles with a soft-boiled egg, Zhang Yi's favorite.

As she stuffed a few crumpled bills into the tin box, she forced a smile through her red-rimmed eyes:

"Eat more, you might not be able to eat here again. The sub-landlord wants to double the rent, and we still don't have money for my husband's medical expenses. This shop might have to close down."

Voiceover: Zhang Yi reminisces about the past while eating noodles.

A few years ago, when Zhang Yigang came to this city to make a living, he was penniless. It was Boss Shen who made him a bowl of clear soup noodles, even though he couldn't eat spicy food, and gave him an extra soft-boiled egg.

At that time, he secretly vowed that he would eat clear soup noodles for the rest of his life.

After finishing his clear soup noodles, Zhang Yi went out as if nothing had happened. He planned to find the so-called sub-landlord and demand an explanation.