Chapter 136
Chapter 136: Pressure Acting
“Director, I…” Wen Dongni was feeling aggrieved: how was this her fault? “That’s not what the script says. Those lines don’t exist.” She had spent several days committing the script to memory, and was absolutely sure that none of the lines Liang Chen had sprung on her just now was in it.
“She knows how to ad-lib, so why can’t you? What, do you need every single syllable spelled out for you in the script? We’ve had a few ad-libs ever since we started filming, and everyone else had no problems adapting to the new lines. Why can’t you do it? What’s wrong with you?”
“I…” Wen Dongni’s red cheeks burnt with humiliation. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
“Action!” Director Jin signaled to the cameraman. In his opinion, there was nothing wrong with Liang Chen’s performance; she was a fantastic actress, and he already knew she was the type to ad-lib her lines. The first time she had done it, Yan Huan had immediately followed her lead, and the resulting take had been miles better than what had been written on the script. So why was Wen Dongni having so much difficulty now? Wen Dongni had far more acting experience under her belt, compared to Yan Huan, who had only been a stunt double before this. But Yan Huan had had no problems whatsoever rolling with Liang Chen’s impromptu lines.
That could only mean one thing: Wen Dongni, a veteran actress who had already been in the industry for several years, was actually a terrible actress who could not out-act a stunt double.
“Cut! Wen Dongni, did you even try to memorize your lines?”
“Cut! Wen Dongni, you’re supposed to be a seductive fox spirit, not a foolish pig spirit. Where’s your brain?”
“Cut! Cut! Cut!”
Wen Dongni’s clothes were now drenched with sweat, but the director could not care less. He ordered her to redo her scenes, over and over again, until he got the take he wanted.
Director Jin grabbed a paper fan and began fanning himself vigorously with it.
He was extremely annoyed. He was very close to kicking Wen Dongni off the set for tainting his show with her horrendous acting skills.
Liang Chen put on her coat and sat serenely in a corner as she watched the director roast Wen Dongni yet again.
The industry veterans immediately knew what was going on.
Liang Chen was intentionally turning up the heat on Wen Dongni during their scenes together, a practice known in the industry as “pressure acting.” Liang Chen’s performance had overwhelmed Wen Dongni, causing her to forget how to act. This was the difference between a superstar and a run-of-the-mill actor.
This was why Liang Chen was a superstar, while Wen Dongni was still a no-name actress.
Yan Huan had been confident in her own acting skills; in her previous life, she had made her way to the top and earned her Best Actress awards through hard work and persistence. She had not taken the easy way out.
But after seeing Liang Chen’s performance—as well as the way she had ruthlessly dominated Wen Dongni in her scenes—Yan Huan now knew that she had been a little too complacent in her confidence. There would always be someone better at acting than her, and one of them was Liang Chen. Yan Huan was no match for the superstar in terms of acting skills.
She was grateful that Liang Chen was being so friendly and cooperative with her. She did not know if she would be able to withstand the pressure if the superstar had decided to snub her instead.
It was obvious to everyone that Liang Chen had no issues whatsoever with Yan Huan. The two actresses enjoyed working together, and completed all their scenes quickly, without any major hiccups.
Everyone else on the set was shivering from the cold weather, but Director Jin was still fanning himself with fierce intensity—he needed it because his blood was boiling with anger.
“Yan Huan, we’ll put this scene on hold and shoot your next scene first.”
“Okay.” Yan Huan got to her feet and removed her coat, instantly feeling the cold, biting wind on her skin. She rubbed her arms and let out a long breath.
The set was really, really cold.
Yan Huan raised her hand and gave the wire team the OK sign. Swish! In the next instant, she was hovering in mid-air, but she showed no signs of fear or anxiety. She was able to perform her own wire stunts thanks to her previous experience as a stunt double; this was a huge advantage for her as many shows required some degree of wire work, but did not have the budget to hire stunt doubles for no-name actors.
They were now shooting the scene in which Qing Yao met Hu Jiuniang—the fox spirit played by Wen Dongni—for the first time. The two would then battle for a day and a night, with the fox spirit running away after sustaining serious injuries. It would be an epic fight scene—if Wen Dongni was able to pull her weight and give a competent performance.
Yan Huan lifted her sword. She was ready. She hung from her wire harness with perfect nonchalance, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She had been trained as a dancer, and was able to pull off difficult moves such as bending over backwards and dropping into a yoga wheel pose. She was waiting for Wen Dongni to get ready.
“Director, don’t I get a stunt double?” Wen Dongni suddenly realized, a little too late, that the wire team had put her into a wire harness. She balked at the thought of being lifted into mid-air: she was a delicate, fragile flower who had always used stunt doubles for her wire stunts. She was also afraid of heights.
Director Jin was momentarily stunned: he had completely forgotten that Wen Dongni could not do her own stunts. Liang Chen and Yan Huan had expertly performed all their own wire stunts, which had not only saved the production a lot of time but also allowed the cinematographer to do away with unnatural camera angles that were usually necessary to hide the stunt doubles’ faces. The two actresses had completed their stunts like true professionals.
But not everyone could be like Liang Chen and Yan Huan. Wen Dongni, for one, was deathly afraid of wire harnesses. Not only that, she was simply not nimble or flexible enough to pull off some of the more difficult stunts.
“Just give it a try,” Director Jin rubbed his temples. “If you can’t do it, we’ll use a double.” He had zero expectations for Wen Dongni. He had not forgotten the way she had thrown a tantrum on his set a while back; he had only allowed her to join his new production because Planner Chen had recommended her, and also because Wen Dongni had personally apologized for acting like a diva. Personally, he would rather not have hired her at all: her looks and acting skills could only be described as “mediocre,” and she was evidently more trouble than she was worth.
But he had resigned himself to his fate. Every production had its share of difficulties.
Wen Dongni was about to say something, but before she could do so she was abruptly hoisted up into the air. A split-second later her frantic screams resounded through the set.
Yan Huan inwardly sighed as she adjusted her hair. Punishing a weak, silly woman like Wen Dongni gave her no sense of satisfaction.
To no one’s surprise, a body double had to be called in to perform Wen Dongni’s stunts. All Wen Dongni had to do was show her face to the camera, and let the cameraman and editor weave the shots together to make it look like she was doing her own stunts. Both the cameraman and the post-production team were extremely good at their job, but no one could deny that Wen Dongni had wasted a lot of their time and money. Yan Huan, too, was a victim of Wen Dongni’s incompetence: she had been left dangling from a wire harness in mid-air for almost half an hour as she waited for Wen Dongni to get her act together.
Yan Huan was, once again, thoroughly annoyed and disgusted with Wen Dongni.
Qing Yao pointed the sword in her hand at Hu Jiuniang, a fox spirit who lived on the blood and essence of men. The fox spirit was cloaked in an aura of blood, hatred, and the countless lives she had taken.
Qing Yao had originally planned to kill Hu Jiuniang, but was now hesitating because she knew the fox spirit had been cultivating for a hundred years. This was an impressive feat, as the path of cultivation was a lot more difficult for spirits and animals than it was for humans.
“Immortal fairy, please don’t kill me.” Hu Jiuniang’s body was soaked with blood. Her expression was one of pure terror. “Please, don’t kill me. I’ve been cultivating for the last hundred years. I’ll give you all the powers I’ve gained. I’ll be your slave! I’ll do anything you want me to! Please, spare me!”