Chapter 569
The Male Lead with 6 Million!
……
……
Lu Han's announcement of his relationship remained on the trending topics list for three days.
Three days, seventy-two hours, every minute brought new discussions, new interpretations, and new arguments.
Some say Lu Han is a real man, some say he's love-struck, some say Guan Xiaotong isn't good enough for him, and some even say he's not good enough for Guan Xiaotong.
Opinions from all sides surged like a tide, one wave after another, scattering the trending topics list in disarray.
From fans to casual netizens, no one had high expectations for this relationship and didn't believe it would have a happy ending.
Those who spam "May you have a long and happy marriage" in the comments section don't even believe it themselves.
They've seen too many celebrity relationships—grand when they go public, but quiet when they break up.
Those who can last a year are considered loyal.
Having sacrificed a loyal fan base and severely damaged his commercial value, Lu Han's only gain was a positive public image among casual viewers.
But the value of this kind of goodwill from passersby is both important and unimportant.
To say it's important,
This is because the casual fanbase is the broadest ground for an artist. No matter how many fans you have, only a few hundred thousand will actually spend money on you.
And the passersby number in the hundreds of millions, even billions!
If you can win the favor of passersby, your popularity will increase, and people will be willing to watch your work.
The reason I say it's not important is because this kind of affection is too fragile.
It's not as unbreakable as the love of fans—fans can tolerate your mistakes, your perfunctory attitudes, and your repeated disappointments.
But not passersby.
Passersby only look at the work and the result.
If you act well, they'll praise you;
You acted terribly.
They might insult you, then turn around and leave, never to return.
If starting today,
Lu Han devoted himself to honing his skills and became a powerful actor. With the current positive public perception, his works might actually attract some people to buy tickets and give them a try.
And this group of people definitely outnumbers the fans. The box office revenue that fans can contribute is at most tens of millions or a hundred million.
The money that casual observers can contribute is in the billions, billions, or even three billion. That's the real "big money."
But... you only have one chance!
If you shoot well and gain enough goodwill, you can rise rapidly and successfully transition to a new career.
From "traffic stars" to "actors," from "idols" to "powerhouse performers."
The artist who walked this path best in his previous life was Li Yifeng, but unfortunately, he ruined it himself.
And it's not good to shoot?
If a passerby spends tens of dollars on a movie ticket and gets a huge disappointment, no amount of goodwill from you will help.
They will see you as "just another traffic magnet to fleece," put your work on their "never watch" blacklist, and keep their distance from you from then on.
Fortunately, Lu Han and Guan Xiaotong do have a good drama that hasn't been broadcast yet.
"Sweet Combat? It seems to be the drama that brought the two of them together. A drama starring a real couple should be very sweet, right?"
"I'll definitely come and taste it to see if it's salty enough!"
This is what most of the casual observers who developed feelings for Lu Han after he went public with his relationship felt.
They were really looking forward to the release of this TV series, and even marked it as "want to watch" on Douban in advance.
The comments section was filled with messages like "Looking forward to Lu Han and Guan Xiaotong's sweet moments," "A real couple acting together would definitely be incredibly sweet," and "I'm already prepared to be bombarded with dog food (a Chinese slang term for witnessing public displays of affection)."
What the passersby didn't know was...
They were still naively waiting, waiting for the impending "sweet attack".
In reality, it was themselves who were dealt the most severe blows.
……
Four days passed in the blink of an eye, and the hype surrounding Lu Han's public announcement of his relationship was finally quelled.
It's not because people have lost interest, but because of something more important.
An even more shocking, explosive, and exhilarating piece of news broke out, wiping out all the trending topics.
The screening period for "Wolf Warrior 2" has ended!
In a past life,
Wolf Warrior grossed 56.8 billion RMB, breaking the record for the highest-grossing film in Chinese film history. It attracted 1.59 million viewers, setting a new record for the highest number of viewers in a single market worldwide, and ranked 55th on the global film history list!
And today—
The total box office of "Wolf Warrior 2" was 60.1 billion RMB, which is approximately 9.7 million USD.
Surpassing the globally renowned IP "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," it ranks 45th on the global film charts!
60.1 million.
This number stands at the pinnacle of Chinese film history.
Unmoved by the wind or the rain, it looked down upon all its pursuers.
It seems that after Gu Qing joined the cast, Wolf Warrior's box office "only" increased by 3.3 million yuan compared to before.
But this already indicates that the entire domestic market is extremely saturated.
The popularity of "Wolf Warrior 2" back then was due to the fact that moviegoers across the country watched it countless times, including many ardent fans who voted for it with their own tickets.
Almost everyone who could get into a movie theater did;
I watched it three times, even though I could only watch it once.
I watched it five times, even though I could watch it three times.
The market has been squeezed dry, not a drop is left.
now,
The extra 3.3 million was earned by the Gu family members lying in the cinema with their eyes closed, taking one nap after another.
Because they really didn't dare to watch.
I was afraid to watch any longer; I felt like I was going to vomit.
With their eyes closed, they can accurately guess which scene is playing from a single explosion or gunshot in a movie.
I can't watch it anymore, I really can't watch it anymore.
The fact that fans were willing to go to any lengths to contribute 3.3 million yuan to the box office suggests that a film's pre-sales could also generate similar figures.
This 3.3 million is not just a number; it represents their heartfelt sentiments.
The pre-sale box office of 3.3 million yuan seems unremarkable.
You know,
In two years, a new generation of top-tier celebrities will emerge, whose fan base will be no less impressive than any of the four top celebrities.
The film she will star in has already reached a pre-sale box office of over 300 million yuan before its release during the peak of the Spring Festival season.
This gave the investors great confidence, making them feel that the film wouldn't lose money no matter what.
But as a result,
In the early stages of the film's release, its box office revenue actually experienced negative growth!
It's not that growth is slow, it's that growth is negative.
Less today than yesterday, less tomorrow than today, a continuous decline, like sliding down a slide.
This truly shocked everyone in the industry.
It turns out that the so-called pre-sale amount of over 300 million yuan was purely inflated by fans through data manipulation.
It wasn't real ticket buying; the data was "brushed" using various methods—locking out shows, filling in empty seats, inflating numbers, and fabricating data.
Are you really going to make them spend real money to buy a movie ticket that costs tens of dollars?
That's impossible!
then,
The film's final box office total was 6.89 million.
Even so, this was achieved thanks to the favorable timing of the Spring Festival film season, the director's advantageous location, the youthful memories of the subject matter for several generations, and the hard-won success after being delayed until April 30th.
In the end, the movie naturally ended up with the grandma's family losing money.
This shows that
How much real value did the Gu family achieve by enduring morning sickness and pushing through the box office to reach 3.3 million yuan?
Those aren't just numbers; they're blood, sweat, and real money—tickets bought one by one, in real life.
……
The remarkable success of "Wolf Warrior 2" is naturally inseparable from the media interviews.
Gu Qing's dream of filming peacefully is now impossible.
The first thing that got us a piece of the pie was naturally our mother's invitation to Gu Qing.
The Capital Television Station has been calling the production team.
Three or four phone calls a day, from morning till night, from the program team to the station director's office.
Of course, Director Lü also contributed to this.
"Where are my songs? Where are my songs?!"
Director Lü is about to explode.
His calls went directly to Gu Qing's cell phone, sending more than a dozen messages a day, ranging from "Have you finished writing?" to "How much have you written?" to "Are you going to write it or not?" to "Have you forgotten?" His tone became increasingly irritable, and his words became increasingly harsh.
If Gu Qing doesn't come soon,
He really wanted to personally find a helicopter to airdrop into the film set and bring the person back!
Don't think he can't do it.
He was just desperate and needed a helicopter; he's really capable!
Within the film crew,
Gu Qing is already filming the final battle scenes between the gods and the alien races.
This is also the end of the first life.
—Inside the set built by the film crew
Under the cold, dark blue night sky, there were no stars, and the moon was obscured by thick clouds, letting out only a few pale rays of light.
The earth was soaked in blood, sticky and slippery underfoot, and smelled of nauseating rust.
Corpses piled up like mountains, with warriors of the Celestial Clan and the Winged Clan lying haphazardly together. They were enemies in life, but in death they were indistinguishable from one another.
The broken sword was stuck in the soil, and the tattered flag fluttered in the wind.
The cruelty of the battlefield was magnified to its extreme at this moment.
Amidst this chaos, there was a brightly lit tent.
The tents were small, but very bright.
The candlelight flickered in the wind, casting long and short shadows on the curtain wall.
The curtain was half-lifted, revealing that the room was full of people.
The Celestial Clan's generals, their armor stained with blood and their faces weary, still burned with an unquenchable fighting spirit in their eyes.
They entered the tent, their footsteps instinctively slowing as if afraid of disturbing something.
All eyes were focused on the person in the center of the tent.
He was wearing heavy silver armor and resting with his eyes closed.
The armor, in terms of its texture, was unlike the ordinary armor they wore.
The silver dragon scales, each piece hand-stitched, gleamed with a cold light in the candlelight.
Each scale was stained with the purple blood of a foreign race, which shone with an eerie light under the lamplight, like a flowing galaxy or solidified poison.
The armor was covered with knife and sword marks, the deepest of which was a diagonal slash from the left shoulder to the right rib, almost piercing through the armor plate.
That was Mo Yuan's armor.
It is the armor of the God of War.
It is proof that one person can fight his way in and out of battle, taking on a hundred enemies single-handedly.
He had his eyes closed, but everyone knew he wasn't asleep.
His brows were slightly furrowed, and there was a faint vertical line between his brows, a mark left by years of frowning.
His eyelashes were long, casting faint shadows under his eyes, but those shadows were not gentle; they were weary, heavy, like two leaden curtains.
The dragon-beard hair beneath the helmet hung down on both sides of his face, the strands dry and dull, like withered grass blown by the wind.
His handsome face was filled with exhaustion and a sense of brokenness.
"Master...Master..."
Si Yin's voice rang out in the tent, dry as sandpaper rubbing against glass.
She stood by the tent flap, her beautiful eyes filled with heartache and pity, like a dull knife, slowly carving away at her heart.
Her eyes were red, her lips were trembling, and her fingers were gripping the hem of her clothes, her knuckles turning white.
She took a small step forward, seemingly afraid of disturbing her master who had finally managed to close his eyes for a short rest.
"On the battlefield, no one is your master!"
Mo Yuan's dry lips trembled slightly, as if he were about to let out a soft sigh.
The sigh was as light as a feather, and only he himself could hear it.
But immediately,
Mo Yuan suddenly opened his eyes, and a chilling sense of oppression pressed down on him like a tangible force as he stared directly at his youngest disciple.
That look in her eyes was no longer the tenderness, indulgence, helplessness, and doting she usually showed when she looked at her.
It was cold, hard, and as sharp as a knife.
Si Yin was startled and hurriedly took a step back, bowing respectfully with both grievance and deference: "Yes...yes...God Mo Yuan, your subordinate Si Yin has come to report."
Her voice was trembling, and her eyes were even redder.
She didn't understand why her master was treating her this way.
"Now that everyone is here, let's formally plan tomorrow's tactics!"
Mo Yuan lowered his eyes and stared at the sand table: "Ling Yu unfortunately died in battle. Tomorrow I will personally lead the army to charge the enemy lines."
Siyin, after you lead Yaoguang's troops to break through the encirclement, stretch the battle lines as far as possible!
His voice was slightly hoarse and as calm as a stagnant pool, revealing no extra emotion.
But his hand, the hand gripping the Xuanyuan Sword, had bulging veins, white knuckles, and the hilt was creaking under his grip.
His memory kept flashing back to Ling Yu's voice and smile.
The ninth disciple who always called him "Master" with a smile, the young man who was always at the forefront on the battlefield, the child who reported military affairs to him last night and has now become a cold corpse.
Ling Yu is dead.
His apprentice died.
But he is a general, the backbone of this battlefield, how can he be swayed by emotions?
His sorrow could only be hidden in the hilt of his sword, in the veins on his face, and in his eyes that refused to look down.
"Master... God Mo Yuan, your subordinate will not leave!"
Upon hearing that she was to leave, Si Yin hurriedly looked up anxiously, wanting to stay and help her master.
Her eyes were full of stubbornness, resentment, and unwillingness.
She didn't want to leave; she wanted to stay and fight alongside her master.
However, their eyes met.
The usually composed and steady master, the master who favored him greatly, was as cold as a stranger at this moment.
Those eyes were like two dry wells, bottomless and devoid of light.
"You dare disobey military orders?!"
Mo Yuan's voice wasn't loud, but every word was like an icicle, piercing Si Yin's heart.
Without warning, the Xuanyuan Sword in his hand was raised, its tip pointing directly at his youngest and most beloved disciple.
She had seen that sword countless times—her master held it to kill enemies, her master held it to practice swordsmanship, her master held it to stand in front of her to protect her.
But this time, the sword tip was pointed at her.
A sword aura, unexpectedly, slashed straight down.
"Please calm your anger, Your Majesty!!"
Bai Zhen's expression changed drastically. He stood in front of Si Yin and stepped forward to withstand the sword energy.
But his expression suddenly changed, and he staggered back several steps, spitting out a mouthful of blood. His face turned ashen, clearly indicating that he had suffered a severe injury.
"Does the God of War Mo Yuan really want to kill Si Yin?!"
“Si Yin is his apprentice…”
"This...this...is too cruel..."
This attack stunned everyone inside the tent.
The Celestial Clan members displayed various expressions, but the strange feelings they had harbored vanished at that moment, replaced only by reverence.
On the battlefield, military orders are absolute, and those who disobey them will be executed, even if they are their own apprentices.
Si Yin stood frozen in place, supporting Bai Zhen who was about to fall, and stared incredulously at the cold-hearted Mo Yuan in front of her.
Her master really wanted to kill her?
The master who would secretly leave her peach blossom wine?
The master who would brave the water dungeon for her?
The master who would gently stroke her hair?
Mo Yuan remained silent, but simply raised his sword once more.
"God of War, please calm your anger! God of War, please calm your anger... This is only the first time Goddess Siyin has fought, please forgive her this time!"
"The High Goddess Siyin has had a tough time; she has made many contributions in the previous battles, General..."
"Tomorrow is the decisive battle against the Winged Clan. We cannot afford to lose our composure!"
Once they realized what was happening, the crowd rushed to offer their advice, offering a cacophony of words and pleading.
Merit is merit, and fault is fault.
This boy disobeyed military orders. If this happened on the battlefield tomorrow, it would surely delay the battle and cost countless Celestial warriors their lives. Get out of the way!
Mo Yuan stepped forward with his sword drawn, his steps steady, not in a hurry to pay attention.
He only stopped when several loyal subordinates, disregarding the filth on his armor, knelt on one knee, blocked his path, and repeatedly begged for forgiveness.
“Killing you would shake the morale of tomorrow’s army.”
Supporting Bai Zhen, we will break through the encirclement together with Yao Guang's subordinates tomorrow.
If you hesitate any longer, don't blame me for disregarding our teacher-student relationship!
Mo Yuan sheathed his sword, turned around, closed his eyes, and spoke in a voice as cold as ice.
"Goddess Siyin, hurry, hurry, help Goddess Baizhen and leave quickly."
"If we stay any longer, the God of War will really make his move!!"
Overjoyed, everyone quickly helped to carry the distraught Si Yin and the seriously injured Bai Zhen out of the tent.
Si Yin was pushed out, turning back every few steps.
She watched the curtains fall, watched the candlelight flicker, and watched the figure in heavy armor gradually blur.
Her tears finally fell.
……
The tent curtains fell behind him, blocking out the candlelight and also the person.
Si Yin staggered and supported Bai Zhen, her steps unsteady as if she were walking on cotton.
The night wind outside the tent blew in, carrying the smell of blood and earth, making Si Yin shiver.
But that cold wasn't a cold on the skin; it was a cold in the bones, a cold that spread from the heart to every part of the body, a cold that couldn't be warmed up no matter how much you covered it.
She finally couldn't hold back anymore, and tears silently streamed down her face.
One, two, three. They hit Bai Zhen's bloodied hand, splashing small droplets of water.
"Don't cry."
Bai Zhen's voice was as weak as a wisp of smoke, which would dissipate with a gust of wind.
He leaned against a wooden stake, his face as white as paper, his lips bluish, and cold sweat mixed with blood streaming down his forehead.
"Master...Master is going to kill me..."
Si Yin's voice was intermittent, like a spider web scattered by the wind.
She crouched down, buried her face in her knees, her shoulders heaving, and cried like a child.
It wasn't a loud wail, but a suppressed sob, a whimper squeezed out from the throat, something the person didn't want others to hear.
Bai Zhen looked at her and remained silent for a long time.
He was trying to say—he wasn't trying to kill you. He was trying to save you.
But he swallowed the words back. He knew it would be pointless to say them.
Si Yin can't listen to anything right now.
She only saw the sword pointed at her, felt the sword's aura that sliced off her hair, and remembered those cold, stranger-like eyes.
She couldn't see the sword's edge deviate by an inch, nor the sword's energy diminish by a fraction, nor the heartache hidden deep within those eyes, almost overflowing with tenderness.
"Help me back."
Bai Zhen ultimately chose to remain silent.
He coughed twice, a metallic taste rising in his throat, which he swallowed forcefully.
He stood up, supporting himself on the wooden stake. His movements were so slow they seemed to be in slow motion, and with each movement, his face grew paler.
Si Yin looked up at him through her teary eyes, her lips trembling, unable to utter a word.
She simply stood up silently, took his arm, and walked step by step toward the camp.
behind,
The tent was still lit. The candlelight flickered, casting a shadow of a person sitting upright and motionless on the tent wall.
Si Yin did not turn around.
……
The next day, before dawn.
The thick fog, like a heavy quilt, pressed down on the entire battlefield.
Visibility was less than ten meters; you couldn't even make out the figures on the other side of the road. The air was damp and chilly, mixed with the smell of earth and rust; it felt cold and astringent when you breathed it in.
The sound of horns rose in the fog, muffled like a sigh from the earth.
The Celestial Clan's army has begun to assemble.
The sounds of armor rubbing together, weapons clashing, and warhorses neighing were both exceptionally clear and exceptionally distant in the thick fog.
The soldiers couldn't see each other's faces, so they could only judge their location by their voices and instinctively grip their weapons.
Mo Yuan stood at the very front of the army formation.
He wore a suit of silver dragon armor, which gleamed coldly in the morning mist. The purple bloodstains on the armor had dried and formed dark scabs, like withered flowers blooming on the silver-white surface.
His helmet was already on, and his dragon-beard hair fell from both sides, swaying gently in the morning breeze.
He closed his eyes.
He is waiting.
Waiting for the fog to clear, waiting for the order, waiting for that cry of "Kill!"
Bai Zhen watched him from afar without saying a word.
He knew that Mo Yuan hadn't slept all night.
The candlelight in the tent stayed on all night.
The fog finally lifted.
The dawn, like a sharp knife, cleaved through the thick fog, revealing the earth soaked in blood.
In the distance, the enemy ranks stretched out in a dark mass, and the banners of the Winged Clan fluttered in the wind like birds baring their fangs and claws.
Mo Yuan opened his eyes.
Those eyes showed no fatigue, no hesitation, and no superfluous emotions.
"kill."
He spoke, his voice not loud, but it was like a needle piercing the heart of every Celestial soldier.
Then, he took the lead and rushed out.
The silver dragon armor reflected a blinding light in the sunlight, like a shooting star piercing the darkness of the battlefield.
His sword was so fast that its trajectory was impossible to see.
His swordsmanship was so accurate that every strike hit a vital point.
But he had too many enemies.
One falls, ten surge forward.
Ten fall, a hundred surge forward.
Like a tide, like locusts, like an endless swarm of ants.
Mo Yuan's movements began to slow down.
His arms ached as if they were filled with lead, and he had to grit his teeth and use all his strength to swing his sword every time.
His breathing became rapid, as if a huge rock was pressing on his chest, and each breath felt like swallowing razor blades.
But he can't stop.
Because behind him were the soldiers of the Celestial Clan.
Because behind him was the direction from which Si Yin was trying to break through.
Mo Yuan stood coldly at the forefront of the battlefield, like a mountain, blocking all the enemies.
His armor bore new wounds, deep enough to expose the bone.
His face was splattered with blood, some of his own and some of his enemies'.
His hair was loose, spilling out of his helmet and dancing wildly in the wind.
The helmet finally fell off.
I don't know if it was knocked down by someone or blown away by the wind.
It rolled to the ground with a dull thud, trampled underfoot by countless feet, sinking into the mud and blood.
Mo Yuan did not pick it up.
He didn't even look down.
He just kept swinging his sword, one strike after another.
His arm was numb, and he had no feeling in the hand holding the sword, but he still kept swinging it.
Only one thought occupied his mind—
Block them.
We cannot let anyone pass by.
The time has come
Seeing Mo Yuan being worn down, the leader of the Winged Clan finally took action himself.
"Mo Yuan, you brat, prepare to die!!"
He was eight feet tall, with a ferocious face, and held a long black sword covered with strange runes that gleamed darkly in the sunlight.
Mo Yuan went to greet him.
The two weapons clashed, producing a loud bang that made everyone around cover their ears.
They attacked from the ground into the air, and from the air back to the ground.
Sword light and blade shadows intertwined, blood and sweat splattered.
With his last ounce of strength, Mo Yuan pierced the shoulder of the Winged Clan leader with his sword.
The Xuanyuan Sword pierced flesh and bone with a dull thud. The Winged Clan leader screamed as his long sword flew out of his hand, tumbling several times in the air before embedding itself in the soil some distance away.
Mo Yuan won.
He knelt on one knee, supporting himself with the Xuanyuan Sword, panting heavily.
His vision began to blur, the scene before him began to double, and his ears were ringing as if countless mosquitoes were flying around.
But he did not fall.
He raised his head and looked at the winged tribe leader.
The man knelt on the ground, clutching his shoulder, blood seeping from between his fingers and dripping onto the soil.
His face showed no fear, no despair, only a chilling, maniacal laugh.
"You think you've won?"
He laughed. He laughed loudly, until tears streamed down his face, until he was breathless.
The laughter echoed across the empty battlefield like the cawing of crows or the tolling of a death knell.
He took out the Eastern Emperor Bell from his bosom.
The bell was very small, only the size of a palm, and completely black, covered with densely packed runes.
But when it was unleashed and suspended in mid-air, it began to expand, grow larger, and devour everything around it.
It was like a hungry beast, its jaws wide open.
Mo Yuan's expression changed.
It wasn't fear, it was recognizing it.
The Eastern Emperor Bell—an ancient artifact he created himself, which even he himself could not destroy, and which could not be turned off once activated.
He knew that Qing Cang possessed the Eastern Emperor Bell.
He knew it from the beginning.
But he never expected that Qing Cang would choose to perish together with him when defeat was inevitable.
Blue light emanated from the bell, like seawater, like flames, like the eyes of death.
The light began to rotate, forming a huge vortex that sucked everything around it into it.
The soldiers were screaming.
Whether they were from the Celestial Race or the Winged Race, friend or foe, or from any faction, they were all sucked into the vortex.
They struggled, cried out, and cursed, but no one could break free.
It felt as if an invisible hand was grabbing my body and pulling me toward the bell's mouth, inch by inch, foot by foot.
Mo Yuan took in all of this. He leaned on the Xuanyuan Sword, struggled to his feet, and walked step by step toward the Eastern Emperor Bell.
He knew that once the clock was started, it could not be turned off.
Unless—someone sacrifices their own soul.
He already knew.
He knew it the moment he saw the Eastern Emperor Bell.
He turned around and glanced at it.
It's not about watching Qingcang, not about watching the battlefield, not about watching those soldiers who are still struggling.
He was looking into the distance—the direction Si Yin was heading to break out.
She should have gone far away by now.
Safe.
A slight smile played on his blood-stained lips.
That smile wasn't one of relief or liberation, but rather a kind of weariness—the feeling of finally being able to rest.
"Little Seventeen..."
He murmured softly.
The voice was very soft, as soft as the wind, as soft as a sigh, as soft as if he had never said those words.
Then, he flew towards the Eastern Emperor Bell.
The bell rang.
It wasn't a deafening roar, but a deep, lingering sound, like the beating of a heart. The sound echoed across the battlefield, reverberated in everyone's hearts, and reverberated throughout the heavens and earth.
Then, the Eastern Emperor Bell stopped.
The blue light dissipated, the vortex disappeared, and everything returned to calm.
It floats silently in mid-air, like a silent tombstone.
distance.
Si Yin suddenly reined in her horse.
She didn't know why she had to stop. She just felt that something inside her had broken.
The feeling wasn't pain, it was emptiness. Like something had been ripped out of my chest.
She clutched her chest, gasping for breath.
She turned around.
I saw a light rise from the direction of the battlefield, pierce the sky, and then disappear.
Her pupils contracted sharply.
"Master—"
That scream was heart-wrenching.
It wasn't coming from her throat, but squeezed out from her bones, from her blood, from her soul. She turned her horse around and galloped back like a madwoman.
"Si Yin! Si Yin, what are you doing!"
Bai Zhen shouted behind her, his voice distorted.
He wanted to chase after him, but he was seriously injured and couldn't catch up at all.
He could only watch her figure grow smaller and smaller as it receded into the distance, until it finally disappeared into the dust.
Si Yin didn't know how she got back.
All she remembers is kneeling on the ground, holding someone in her arms.
The person was wearing silver armor, which was covered in blood, making it impossible to tell whether it was from the enemy or their own.
The person had their eyes closed, their long eyelashes casting soft shadows on their face. Their lips were pale, bloodless, like faded flower petals.
She cupped his face in her hands and called out to him over and over again.
"Master, wake up."
"Master, look at me."
"Little Seventeen is back, Little Seventeen isn't leaving anymore, open your eyes and look at me..."
But those eyes never opened again.
Her tears dripped onto his face, mingling with blood, mud, and the words she could never utter.
"I understand... I understand everything..."
She finally understood.
That sword energy wasn't meant to kill her.
Let her go.
That "Don't blame your teacher for not cherishing the bond between teacher and student" didn't mean he didn't want her anymore.
That look in his eyes before leaving wasn't indifference; it was farewell.
She cried so hard that she was trembling all over, so hard that she couldn't breathe, and so hard that her voice became hoarse.
She hugged him even tighter, as if she wanted to meld him into her body.
But he won't be coming back.
The wind is still blowing, and the battlefield is still there.
As the sun sets, it dyes the whole world a blood red.
But Mo Yuan is gone.
……
"Finally... filming is finished, I'm exhausted..."
Zhang Binbin, who knelt down in surrender, only felt a sore back and a heavy burden. He let out a long sigh of relief, a smile unconsciously appearing on his lips, and sighed repeatedly in his heart.
Filming with Gu Qing is so tiring...
From applying paint to wearing armor, the action scenes couldn't be taken lightly...
After a full day of filming, he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep.
But he overlooked the silent, kneeling figure not far in front of him.
The woman, who was sobbing so hard that her body was trembling, was clearly still immersed in the role and hadn't come out of it yet.
Holding the "corpse-like" Gu Qing in her arms, she was already mentally broken. Tears streamed down her face, armor, and hands like broken beads.
She couldn't hear Lin Yufen shout "Cut," couldn't hear the staff moving around, and couldn't hear anything around her.
Only upon hearing Zhang Binbin's perfunctory pleas for mercy did she slightly tuck her chin, close her eyes tightly, and feel an overwhelming surge of anger and grief.
"What use is a letter of surrender?"
She staggered to her feet, her beautiful eyes devoid of any emotion, as if she were looking at corpses.
That look in his eyes was so cold it seemed inhuman.
Just one glance was enough to send a chill down Zhang Binbin's spine. He was so frightened that his hair stood on end and his scalp tingled.
Holy crap, what's wrong with Honey?!
"I'll make you all pay with your lives!!"
Yang Mi brandished the Jade Void Kunlun Fan, and her piercing hatred was fully materialized at this moment.
"Click! Passed!!"
"Well done! Well done!"
Lin Yufen, her voice hoarse, called out into the walkie-talkie, staring intently at the screen in front of the monitor. She was equally thrilled by the scene, and goosebumps rose on her skin.
"Okay..."
Gu Qing lay on the cold ground, her eyelashes trembling slightly, but she was so tired that she couldn't even open her eyes.
The armor, weighing dozens of kilograms, had been pressing down on him for almost a whole day. When he suddenly relaxed, he didn't have the strength to even lift a finger.
"It's finally over..."
"Master...Master...Waaaaah..."
Before Gu Qing could finish feeling relieved, and after waving his fan, he saw a group of extras lying on the ground. Da Mimi knelt down in front of Gu Qing again, crying and hugging his cheeks, her warm tears falling on his face.
One drop, two drops, three drops. They landed on my forehead, on the bridge of my nose, on my lips.
Gu Qing: "..."
"Honey, are you getting into character too?"
"It wasn't easy, you've been filming all day, but you finally made it in!"
Gu Qing was also filled with despair.
Otherwise, he could have set off for the capital to report that very night.
However, Yang Mi just couldn't find the right feeling and couldn't get into the mood, so they were forced to film until late at night.
Gu Qing struggled to get up, even though he couldn't get up anyway.
Once actors get into character, they naturally need to vent their emotions. He himself has had this experience, so he just goes along with Yang Mi's wishes.
But before Gu Qing could even close her eyes and rest for a moment—
Suddenly I felt like I couldn't breathe.
I'm not exaggerating, I really couldn't breathe.
Something was blocking his nose, completely blocking it, so that not a breath could get in.
"This……"
Gu Qing's nose twitched involuntarily as she touched something soft.
Soft, warm, with a sweet aroma.
His brain completely shut down at that moment.
"Is Sister Honey the real deal?!"
……
...(End of this chapter)