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

After the first scene, the atmosphere on set quietly changed.

The slight disdain I felt in the first two days has completely dissipated.

No one regarded Ye Mo as a newcomer who had come to try his luck anymore.

When the makeup artist touched up Ye Mo's makeup, her hands stopped shaking.

But his movements were lighter and slower than before.

It was a kind of cautious, meticulous care.

The actor who plays Gambo would subconsciously slow down by half a step every time he passed by Ye Mo.

He confided to others that he dreamt of that face, half covered in paint, all he could see that night.

When this got out, everyone on set laughed.

But as they laughed, they all began to realize that there was some truth to it.

When the props crew members pass by Ye Mo, they will quietly call out "Mr. Ye".

There was something in his tone that he himself couldn't quite put his finger on.

The staff handed out water and boxed meals with gentler movements.

Ye Mo didn't think anything of it.

He's filmed movies in the country and has seen even more exaggerated forms of adoration.

He still shows up every day as usual, and remains quiet as ever.

But on set, no one whispered about him anymore.

On the third day, we filmed a one-man show featuring the clown.

The Joker emerged alone from the gang's territory and walked up the steps of Gotham.

The script for this scene contained only one word.

"Walk."

Nolan meant to let Ye Mo do things his own way.

The camera is set up, and the lights are on.

Ye Mo stood at the top of the steps, waiting for the stage manager to clap the clapperboard.

As soon as the clapper sounded, he moved.

He didn't rush to go downstairs.

He paused for two seconds, tilting his head as if listening to some sound.

Then he smiled.

That laugh rolled out of his throat, low and fragmented.

He raised one hand, making a dancing motion.

Then, he jumped up on the steps.

There is no music.

His body is the rhythm.

Footsteps, one after another, tread on the steps, haphazardly yet inexplicably rhythmic.

He twisted his waist and swayed his shoulders, as if he were dancing with an unseen partner.

His blood-stained clothes swung out dark red arcs with his movements.

He danced as if no one else was around.

It was as if the blood all over the ground and the lives on his hands had nothing to do with him.

The entire film set was eerily quiet.

No one called for a stop.

Even my breathing became softer.

Several photographers, their eyes glued to the viewfinder, forgot to move their hands.

An assistant director stared with his mouth agape, unable to close it for a long time.

Nolan stood up from behind the monitor only after the scene was filmed.

He clapped twice.

"Keep it," Nolan said. "Just this one, no need to reshoot."

This statement, in Nolan's words, is already a very high compliment.

......

These days.

The actors who acted opposite Ye Mo all tacitly kept their distance from him.

No one can say why.

That sense of oppression made people unconsciously shrink back.

An actor who played a low-level gang leader muttered something to someone after the scene.

"When he gets into character, my hair stands on end."

"That look in his eyes, it was like he could really kill someone."

The person next to him chimed in.

"Me too, my legs go weak when I stand next to him."

"Stay away, it's safe."

That was a joke, but no one really dared to get too close.

Ye Mo heard it but didn't explain.

When filming, he played the clown.

After filming, he was still Ye Mo.

He can clearly distinguish this boundary.

Others may not be able to tell the difference.

Nolan grew to like Ye Mo more and more.

This liking goes far beyond mere appreciation for an actor.

Sometimes he would pull Ye Mo aside and talk about the characters and the stories, and they would talk for half a day.

Ye Mo always has unique perspectives.

There's a scene where the clown and his henchmen are dividing the money.

In the original script, the Joker piled up the money and set it on fire.

After Ye Mo finished reading the script, he mentioned it to Nolan.

"Don't just stand there," Ye Mo said. "Make him kneel on that pile of money, like he's worshipping it."

Nolan listened and remained silent for a long time.

Then he laughed.

"We'll do it your way."

Similar incidents are becoming increasingly common.

Nolan even invited Ye Mo to his meetings with the screenwriters.

"Let's hear what Ye has to say," Nolan often said.

The crew members saw it all and understood.

This Chinese actor is becoming more and more important to Nolan every day.

That afternoon, a car drove up to the film set.

The car door opened, and someone got out.

Wearing simple sportswear, he smiled with wrinkles all over his face.

Someone recognized it first.

"My God, it's Uncle Jackie Chan!"

That shout sent the entire set into an uproar.

The stagehands stopped what they were doing, and the lighting technician leaned out from the ladder.

Even the usually composed Freeman glanced in that direction a couple more times.

Jackie Chan's international reputation is well-deserved.

He fought his way up to Hollywood in the 1970s and 80s, relying on his solid skills to break into the global box office charts.

There's no one on this set who hasn't seen his movies.

It's fair to say that most people are his fans.

Several young staff members were rubbing their hands together.

"Why is Jackie Chan here?"

"You're here to see Director Nolan, right?"

"Definitely, I heard they know each other."

Thinking this, everyone looked towards Nolan.

Nolan also went to greet them.

The two shook hands and exchanged a few pleasantries.

But the next second, Cheng Long looked away.

He walked straight toward one person.

That person was standing in the corner of the film set, still wearing makeup.

Cheng Long walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder.

"Kid, you're doing pretty well."

Ye Mo smiled.

"Uncle Long, what brings you here?"

"I happened to be in Los Angeles. I heard you joined Nolan's team, so I came to see you. "And also to see if you've embarrassed me."

These two sentences were spoken in Chinese.

But everyone around understood.

Cheng Long came here specifically to see Ye Mo.

I only exchanged pleasantries with Nolan on the way.

In an instant, the film set fell silent.

The expressions on everyone's faces changed several times.

Those people who thought Cheng Long had come to see Nolan stared wide-eyed.

Does this newcomer from China know Jackie Chan?

And judging from their tone, they seemed very familiar with each other.

Someone whispered to the Chinese assistant next to them.

"Just who is this Ye Mo?"

The assistant shook his head, looking equally bewildered.

"I...I don't know either."

Cheng Long ignored the stares.

He put his arm around Ye Mo's shoulder and walked towards a less crowded area.

"Come on, come on, tell your uncle how the filming went."

Ye Mo followed him.

Behind them, the entire film crew watched them go.

In those eyes, there was shock, envy, and a hint of unspoken bitterness.

Cheng Long pulled Ye Mo outside the shed before letting go of his hand.

He looked Ye Mo up and down a few times, and the smile on his face faded.

"Your makeup looks increasingly sinister," Jackie Chan said. "Aren't you going to take it off after work?"

Ye Mo touched his face.

"I'll remove it in a bit."

Cheng Long stared at him for two seconds.

"Acting is acting, and living life is living life. Don't be like those actors who drive themselves crazy with their performances."

Ye Mo was taken aback.

This is the same thing Nolan said.

He didn't speak, he just nodded.

Cheng Long then smiled again.

"Alright, I'll treat you to dinner tonight. There are a few good restaurants in Los Angeles."

The two walked towards the car.

Behind them, a crowd of people had gathered at the entrance of the film set, watching them leave.

Her eyes were full of envy for Ye Mo.

This is Jackie Chan!

……