He plays Feng Yuxiu, and his girlfriend is a fairy-like beauty.

Lu Yang turned to a page of the script and pushed it in front of Ye Mo.

"Try this part." He pointed to it, "Ding Xiu's first appearance, meeting the protagonist Shen Lian in the tavern."

There aren't many lines; the main strength lies in the eyes and the overall demeanor.

What I want is—cold.

Ye Mo looked down at the script.

"Cold?" He looked up.

"Yes, cold." Lu Yang leaned back in his chair. "Ding Xiu is a loner, a ruthless killer. He doesn't like to talk or laugh, and he always looks down on everyone. That's the kind of aloof assassin feeling I want."

Ye Mo's heart skipped a beat.

aloof?

Ding Xiu?

The image that came to mind was that of a ronin with grass in his mouth, leaning to one side, spouting nonsense, saying "I have to pay more" with such confidence, and even haggling with his junior brother after killing someone—that was the real Ding Xiu.

But what Lu Yang said was completely different.

Ye Mo opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Forget it.

Don't argue with the director on your first collaboration.

Let's get the role first, and then talk things over slowly once we're more familiar with each other.

He knew from his past life that the first ironclad rule for newcomers joining a production team is—whatever the director says, goes.

"No problem, Director Lu." Ye Mo closed the script, stood up, and said, "I'll give it a try."

……

The site staff cleared out a small open space.

Lu Yang sat behind the monitor, with the assistant director and martial arts instructor standing beside him.

Several staff members came over to watch the commotion, but were waved away by the assistant director.

Ye Mo stood in the center of the open space and took a deep breath.

Without a prop knife, he practiced with his bare hands.

Close your eyes.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

When he opened his eyes again, his entire demeanor had changed.

It wasn't the kind of manic madness that Feng Yuxiu possessed, but rather a restrained, deep-seated coldness.

His eyes became very flat, as flat as a stagnant pool.

His lips were completely flat, and his chin was slightly raised, as if he were looking at something insignificant.

Lu Yang's brow twitched slightly.

Ye Mo took a step forward.

The pace was slow, but each step was the same distance, as if it had been measured.

He stopped at the entrance of the tavern, turned his head, and glanced in the direction where "Shen Lian" should be.

Then he spoke.

"You're Shen Lian?"

The sound wasn't loud, but it was very clear.

There was no emotion, no fluctuation, as if confirming an insignificant fact.

Lu Yang sat up straight.

Ye Mo did not stop.

He slowly raised his hand, making a drawing motion—there was no knife in his hand, but the detail of the gesture made it believable that he was indeed holding one.

"Even the Embroidered Uniform Guard comes to a place like this?"

His lips twitched slightly, not quite a smile, but more like a look of disdain.

Lu Yang twirled the pen in his hand.

He originally only intended to go through the motions.

I'll give the person recommended by Lao Chen a try, and it'll be fine once I see it.

Anyway, he's just a supporting character with limited screen time. As long as he can fight, that's enough. Don't take it too seriously.

But now, looking at Ye Mo on the monitor, a thought popped into his mind—

This kid is actually pretty good.

It's not the kind of formulaic performance from someone with formal training, but rather a natural sense of camera presence.

He knows where the camera is, how to move to make the picture look best, and how to control the rhythm of the dialogue.

This doesn't seem like a newcomer who's only ever played minor roles.

……

"Cut!" Lu Yang called out to stop.

Ye Mo snapped out of her trance and turned to look at him.

Lu Yang was silent for two seconds, then nodded: "The action is fine, and the lines are fine too."

He paused for a moment.

"Go through the action sequences with the martial arts choreographer. If everything is fine, the role is yours."

Ye Mo felt a sense of relief, but remained outwardly calm: "Thank you, Director Lu."

Lu Yang waved his hand, signaling the martial arts instructor to take him to practice.

The assistant director leaned over and whispered, "Director Lu, is it settled? Aren't you going to look at others?"

"What are you looking at?" Lu Yang rolled his eyes. "We're filming tomorrow. Do you have a better candidate?"

The assistant director shut up.

As Lu Yang watched Ye Mo's retreating figure, what he was really thinking was—this role doesn't have many scenes, and the requirements aren't that high.

He can fight, he can act, he's not stage-frightened—that's enough.

Whether it can be outstanding or not is just icing on the cake.

……

Forty minutes later, Ye Mo changed into his costume.

He wore a dark cotton and linen robe, with an old leather belt tied around his waist and a wine gourd hanging from it.

Her hair was messed up by the makeup artist, with a few stray strands hanging down in front of her forehead.

It lacks the grandeur of official robes and the dashing elegance of a chivalrous knight.

He was dressed in tattered clothes.

But when Ye Mo wore it, his entire demeanor changed completely.

He stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself.

His dark clothes made his skin look even whiter, and his loose hair gave him a more颓废 (颓废 is a difficult word to translate directly, but it implies a sense of decadence, listlessness, or apathy) look.

Add to that his deliberately suppressed gaze—cold, like the winter wind, devoid of any warmth.

The assistant director walked by and paused for a moment.

"Holy shit," he blurted out.

Lu Yang heard the noise and looked up.

Then his eyes lit up.

Ye Mo stood in front of the mirror, his face turned to the side, his gaze glancing sideways.

That angle, that expression, that face half-hidden by stray hairs—it wasn't handsome, it was cold.

It's a kind of coldness that makes people afraid to approach, carrying an aura of danger.

"Yes." Lu Yang stood up and circled Ye Mo. "That's the feeling."

He looked at Ye Mo, and finally a satisfied expression appeared on his face.

"Alright, go back and prepare. You'll be joining the crew tomorrow."

……

Ye Mo changed his clothes and came out of the tent.

He walked a few steps away, made sure no one was around, took out his phone, and opened Liu Yifei's chat window.

The video call rang twice before I answered.

"How is it?!" Liu Yifei's face was close to the camera, her eyes wide open.

"That's enough." Ye Mo put a cigarette in his mouth, but didn't light it; he just held it there.

"Really?!" Liu Yifei's voice rose. "What role? Does she have a lot of screen time?"

"A supporting character named Ding Xiu. He doesn't have as many scenes as Feng Yuxiu, but he's quite interesting."

"So you're joining the crew tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow."

Ye Mo had a cigarette dangling from his lips, his head tilted to the side, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone, looking completely relaxed.

He has just come out of the "cold and aloof Ding Xiu" state in the play and hasn't completely gotten rid of it yet.

His nonchalant attitude, mixed with the lingering scent of his costume, made him look both lazy and roguish.

"What kind of pose is that?" Liu Yifei laughed on the other end of the screen. "You look like a little thug."

"Mind your own business." Ye Mo took the cigarette out of his mouth. "That's called class."

"What kind of temperament?"

"You don't understand."

The two exchanged a few more words when someone called Liu Yifei from the other end of the line, so she quickly hung up the phone.

Ye Mo put his phone in his pocket, lit a cigarette, and looked down to find a lighter.

He stood in the open space outside the tent, wearing a plain black T-shirt and jeans, his hair still loose—he had forgotten to tie it up.

A gust of wind blew by, and stray hairs obscured his eyes. He casually flicked them back, causing the cigarette dangling from his mouth to sway.

His posture was languid, his gaze casual; his entire being screamed "lazy!"

It doesn't matter.

Lu Yang just came out of the tent, holding a script, and was about to go find the martial arts instructor.

Then he saw Ye Mo.

With a cigarette dangling from his lips, head tilted, hair tossed, and a nonchalant roguish air in his eyes—a completely different aura from the "aloof Ding Xiu" he portrayed during the audition, yet equally captivating.

Lu Yang stopped.

He stared at Ye Mo for several seconds, and a thought suddenly flashed through his mind—

This feeling seems pretty good?

It wasn't the aloofness he wrote about, but rather a kind of... carefree, cynical, and even after killing someone, he would still haggle over the price.

......