From unemployment in crosstalk to top star in Chinese entertainment

That's how life is on set—busy for a while, then quiet for a while, like someone has pressed the fast-forward and slow-motion buttons alternately.

When Yu Liang wasn't filming, he wouldn't go back to the hotel. He would move a folding chair and sit next to the monitor, watching the veteran actors perform.

When Chen Daoming was filming the scenes for Emperor Qing, he watched the most attentively.

It's not about the lines, it's about what's beyond the lines.

The light tap of Emperor Qing's fingers on the table when he reviewed memorials; the slight lift of his eyelids upon hearing a certain name, followed by a quick droop; the blank space when he suddenly stopped speaking.

Those blank spaces carry more weight than the lines.

Yu Liang silently took notes from the side.

When he was a stuntman, he liked to squat in a corner and watch others act. Back then, he watched the movements, the positioning, how to make the falls more realistic, and how to make the fights more brutal.

These are what we're looking at now.

Thirteen years of stunt work taught him one thing: a truly good actor is not acting out "what to do," but rather "what not to do."

Chen Daoming is like that.

He can suppress an emotion to almost nothing, and then, in an unexpected moment, release it all with a single glance.

Like a fully drawn bow, when it is released, the string makes a sound more deafening than the arrow.

Yu Liang's palms were sweating as he watched.

He recalled what he had said when he auditioned for Teng Zijing: "Teng Zijing always suppresses his emotions."

He thought he understood at the time.

Now, watching Chen Daoming act, he realizes that he only understands the basics.

Suppression is not absorption.

Pressure is storage.

"Collecting" means hiding things away; "accumulating" means hoarding things until a critical point is reached, and then—

It's not about releasing it, but letting it overflow on its own.

Wu Gang's portrayal of Chen Pingping was a different kind of good.

He was sitting in a wheelchair, and the only parts of his body that he could move were his upper body and his face.

But his eyes, eyebrows, the corners of his mouth, and even the rhythm of his fingers tapping on the armrest were all acting.

There is a scene where Chen Pingping and Emperor Qing play chess.

The two veteran actors were separated by a chessboard, with only a few lines of dialogue, and most of the scene was spent in silence.

But that silence was filled with the glint of swords.

Chen Pingping's eyelid twitched slightly when Emperor Qing placed his piece. As Chen Pingping adjusted the angle of his wheelchair, Emperor Qing's hand, holding a teacup, paused in mid-air for half a second.

A game of chess can be more intense than an action movie.

When Yu Liang was on the card, she realized that her back was soaked with sweat.

"Did you understand?" someone asked from the side.

It was director Sun Hao; I don't know when he started standing behind me.

Yu Liang thought for a moment: "I understood half of it."

"Half is good enough." Sun Hao patted him on the shoulder. "You'll only know the other half after you've acted it out yourself."

Yu Liang nodded.

Teng Zijing's scenes are almost finished filming; there are only a few scenes left to complete.

The pivotal scene on Niulan Street was scheduled for three days later. After filming that scene, his time on the set would be numbered.

Three months ago, he was still excited about getting the role.

-

Three days later. Niulan Street.

Before dawn, the Song Dynasty-style streets of Duyun Film and Television City were already packed with people.

The scene started early in the morning and continued until the afternoon.

Yu Liang squatted on the stone steps by the street, the makeup artist had just finished touching up the bruises and bloodstains on his face.

He then lowered his head and tightened the leather wristband even more.

Because of the script, Teng Zijing's arm had already been severely injured by Cheng Jushu.

He wanted the tightness to make his arms numb.

That's how you get a more accurate performance.

People in the martial arts world understand this best.

In a real fight, a person cannot feel their own hands and feet.

Yu Liang needs physiological reactions such as numbness, dull pain, and tinnitus because they are more real than any "performance".

Zhang Ruoyun came out of the dressing room, her costume already torn and stained with blood.

By this time, the site had been almost set up.

"Attention all departments." Director Sun Hao's voice echoed across the set via walkie-talkie. "I won't call 'cut' for this final scene. Unless there's a major problem."

The set fell silent for a moment.

Not calling "cut" means the entire play has to be performed in one go.

From the moment Teng Zijing was struck by the palm, to his fall, to Fan Xian's reaction, the entire sequence was seamless, with no chance for retakes.

"Teacher Yu Liang." Sun Hao's voice came through the walkie-talkie again.

"Here, Director."

"Teng Zijing's last scene is in your hands."

"Scene 117, Shot 43 of 'Joy of Life' - Action!"

The carriage overturned.

Cheng Jushu's iron palm shattered Fan Xian's sword.

Teng Zijing stood in front of Fan Xian.

He gripped the broken sword horizontally, his thumb and forefinger split open, blood dripping down the hilt.

His back was trembling slightly.

It wasn't fear, but the blow that had damaged his lungs, making each breath feel like a knife cutting into him.

"Let's go." He didn't turn around.

"Let's go together!" Fan Xian struggled to stand up.

"I'm letting you go."

The voice wasn't loud, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

Then Teng Zijing turned around and glanced at Fan Xian.

With just one glance, Yu Liang released everything she had been holding back over the past few days.

Reluctant yet resigned, entrusting with peace of mind, gentle yet resolute.

Then he rushed forward.

He took Cheng Jushu's palm strike head-on with his broken sword.

He was sent flying, his back slamming into the stone steps before bouncing off to the ground.

pain.

Yu Liang's back slammed hard against the edge of the stone steps.

For the sake of the filming effect, Yu Liang insisted on filming this fall without padding, showing the actual fall to the ground.

It felt like someone had hit his spine with a hammer; the pain exploded from his back and shot up his head along his nerves.

A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth.

This time it was really broken; I could taste rust on my tongue.

He braced himself against the ground, trying to stand up.

I can't stand up.

His knee hit the bluestone slab with a dull thud.

His kneecap slammed into a rock, and the pain made his vision go black.

The set was so quiet that only the sound of the wind could be heard.

Yu Liang lowered his head, looking at his hands that were bracing themselves on the ground.

His joints turned white and he kept shaking.

The dull pain in his back, the impact to his knees, and the taste of blood on his tongue pushed his body to a real breaking point.

To ensure the realism of the filming, he repeatedly asked the director to allow the fight scenes to be filmed without padding, so that the actors could actually fight and fall.

pain.

That fucking hurts.

He suddenly smiled.

A bitter laugh that suggests a willingness to die.

He stood up.

The bruises on his knees were real, the dull pain from the impact to his back was real. He held the broken knife horizontally in front of him, facing Cheng Jushu.

Standing to the side, Zhang Ruoyun witnessed everything and was quickly drawn into the role by Yu Liang's acting skills.

"Teng Zijing—"

Fan Xian's voice had changed tone.

Teng Zijing did not turn around.

He simply raised the broken sword and aimed it at the nine-foot-tall iron tower.

Then he threw himself out.

The broken knife pierced Cheng Jushu's forearm.

Cheng Jushu struck him in the chest with a powerful palm strike.

That palm strike felt like being hit head-on by a charging bull.

Yu Liang's body paused in mid-air for a moment, then crashed heavily to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

"boom--"

A muffled thud.

The weight of 140 pounds, without any protection, crashed solidly onto the bluestone slab.

Yu Liang's left cheek hit the ground, and the "blood plasma" in his mouth dripped down the corner of his mouth.

Teng Zijing, he is about to die.

Lying on my back, my eyes are looking at the sky.

The sky over Duyun was overcast with low-hanging clouds, as if it were about to rain.

Yu Liang lay on the ground, motionless.

The pain in my back has gone numb, and the impact sensation in my knee is turning into a dull throbbing.

The "blood" from the corner of his mouth flowed into his neck, warm, and then turned cold.

He stared at the sky with almost empty eyes, his mind somewhere between chaos and clarity.

He sensed that Teng Zijing's life was like something rising from a deep dream, not yet fully touching the surface.

He saw many people.

People from the film set gathered around, but no one approached.

Guo Qilin stood next to the monitor, his mouth open, but no sound came out.

Wang Churan stood in the crowd, clutching the hem of her clothes with both hands, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Everyone saw Zhang Ruoyun kneeling on the ground.

His hands were braced against the pool of blood, and his lips were trembling.

"Teng Zijing".

"Teng Zijing!"

Zhang Ruoyun suddenly looked up.

"ah--!"

The roar exploded from his chest like a wild beast whose heart had been ripped out.

"Okay, card!"

Director Sun Hao's voice came from the direction of the monitor, his excited tone breaking the momentary silence.

"Are you alright?" Zhang Ruoyun asked Yu Liang, whom she was carrying, after calming herself down.

"It's alright, just a little numb in my back." Yu Liang coughed twice after the hard fall and said truthfully.

The accompanying doctor rushed forward to check on Yu Liang's condition.

Surprisingly, the fall didn't cause any serious injury, only a slight bruise on her back.

Everyone on set burst into applause!

"Both teachers gave a fantastic performance!"

"Congratulations to Teacher Yu Liang, Teng Zijing has wrapped up filming!"

The crew members presented Yu Liang with flowers to congratulate him.

"Congratulations, Yu Liang."

Li Lin, Li Chun, and the others also stepped forward to offer their congratulations.

Director Sun Hao walked over, holding a red envelope in his hand; it was bulging and full.

Yu Liang took the red envelope and squeezed it.

It's quite thick.

Yu Liang estimated that it should be around 20,000 to 30,000.

"Thank you, director."

Sun Hao looked at him and remained silent for a few seconds.

"You really fell twice just now..."

Yu Liang didn't say anything.

"I don't encourage actors to do that," Sun Hao paused, "but I have to say your fall was worth it."

The reason he initially decided to cast Yu Liang as Teng Zijing was precisely for the final fight scene in Niulan Street.

As expected, Yu Liang did not disappoint him.

He stood up, patted Yu Liang on the shoulder, and said, "Keep it up, young man. Oh, by the way, come see me after you've removed your makeup."

Yu Liang nodded.

Wang Churan's eyes were as red as a rabbit's.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

In the end, they simply handed Yu Liang a bottle of mineral water with the cap unscrewed.

Guo Qilin began by saying:

"elder brother."

"Um?"

"That last look in your eyes...it was so beautiful, so moving."

Yu Liang took the water and drank a sip.

But when he tilted his head back slightly, the pain in his back made him wince.

Li Lei walked over. This veteran stuntman, who came from Jackie Chan's stunt team, has been filming action scenes for over 20 years and has seen countless actors get stage fright.

"brother."

"The way you fell just now..."

Li Lei gave a thumbs up.

"I've been filming action scenes for over 20 years, and I've never seen many actors dare to fall like that."

"With your skills and relentless drive, your future is limitless."