Chapter 4: Don't Overthink It

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t cultivated in a long time, but Chu Tianfeng lost himself in his practice and didn’t stop until noon the next day.

He hadn’t eaten for a long time, so his stomach was already rumbling hungrily.

Now that he had no cultivation, fasting was out of the question. If he missed a meal, hunger gnawed at him relentlessly.

He returned to the crew, went to the temporary canteen, and got himself some food.

Two meat dishes, one vegetable, an extra egg, a small bowl of soup—ten yuan in total!

The food was still as bland as ever. Perhaps, in over a thousand years, this was the worst meal he’d ever tasted, hardly different from the thin gruel he once begged for on the streets.

Yet, within these dishes, he tasted something familiar, something intimate.

"Chu Tianfeng?!" He was lost in thought when a clear, lively call sounded from behind him.

Chu Tianfeng turned his head, following the direction of the voice.

Not far away stood three young people.

One man, two women.

To his surprise, one of the women was Xu Yan!

She was strikingly beautiful, with a delicate oval face, skin like porcelain, and a gentle fringe brushing her forehead. She wore a white dress, graceful and elegant, exuding a gentle charm.

She too was a student at Tianhai Film Academy, a year below Chu Tianfeng—his junior.

She walked at the center, a subtle smile on her lips.

The other girl was Jiang Ziyue, Xu Yan’s classmate. She had a round, adorable face, her hair done up in a bun, like a little cartoon character come to life.

It was Jiang Ziyue who’d just called out to him.

The young man was Xiang Yanping, with a square jaw and brows as sharp as swords. He was tall and rather handsome, with an air of casual confidence.

Xiang Yanping was from the same hometown as Chu Tianfeng—also from Tianhai, and an alumnus of Tianhai Film Academy, making him the senior among the three.

Of course, like Chu Tianfeng, they were all minor extras.

"Hello!" Chu Tianfeng shifted slightly, making room for Xiang Yanping to sit on his right.

Xu Yan and Jiang Ziyue took seats across from them.

“How’s your health?” Xiang Yanping asked.

Because Xu Yan and Jiang Ziyue were present, he switched from their local Tianhai dialect to standard Mandarin halfway through his sentence.

“Thank you for asking, I’m fine,” Chu Tianfeng replied, somewhat relieved. He’d only just gotten used to Mandarin, and the local dialect was still a mystery to him.

"Hehe, when someone found you unconscious, Brother Xiang happened to be nearby. He jumped into the water and pulled you ashore," Jiang Ziyue said, tapping her metal lunchbox with her chopsticks. "Oh, almost forgot—Brother Xiang even gave you mouth-to-mouth!"

“What?” Of course, Chu Tianfeng knew what artificial respiration meant.

He didn’t remember much about what happened after he fainted, but now that Jiang Ziyue mentioned it, he vaguely recalled that when he woke on the grass, the first person he saw was probably Xiang Yanping.

Looking at Xiang Yanping’s stubbled face and thick lips, he choked back his words of gratitude, his stomach turning.

Ugh—

Chu Tianfeng couldn’t control himself any longer and bent over, vomiting under the table.

Ha ha! Ha ha!

Xiang Yanping burst out laughing, and Jiang Ziyue laughed so hard she pounded the table, while Xu Yan clutched her stomach, her cheeks flushed with mirth.

Other diners nearby looked on in confusion at the scene.

After vomiting for a while, Chu Tianfeng’s eyes reddened, as if brimming with tears.

He lifted his head, trying to steady himself.

"Are you alright?" Xiang Yanping patted his shoulder.

Unfortunately, Chu Tianfeng noticed a few grains of rice clinging to Xiang Yanping's thick lips, and another wave of nausea surged.

Ugh—

Chu Tianfeng doubled over, retching again.

Xiang Yanping and Jiang Ziyue laughed even harder.

Xu Yan, still laughing, lightly slapped Jiang Ziyue’s arm.

"Alright, stop teasing him," Xu Yan finally said, unable to bear it any longer.

"Fine." Jiang Ziyue struggled to suppress her laughter, though the corners of her mouth kept twitching. "Actually, it wasn’t Brother Xiang who gave you mouth-to-mouth.”

"Then who was it?" Chu Tianfeng grew more anxious, looking at Jiang Ziyue across the table.

He distinctly remembered only men being present at the scene, which left him even more unsettled.

"Don’t look at me—it wasn’t me. I don’t know how to do artificial respiration," Jiang Ziyue replied, misunderstanding Chu Tianfeng’s look and glaring at him. "It was Xu Yan who kissed you. Satisfied now?"

Chu Tianfeng still doubted it and turned a questioning gaze to Xiang Yanping.

Xiang Yanping took a bite of rice and mumbled, "You were dead weight—dragging you ashore nearly finished me off. Where would I find the strength to save you?"

"Oh." Chu Tianfeng finally let out a long breath of relief, then turned to Xu Yan. "Xu Yan, thank you!"

He felt something indescribable toward Xu Yan.

He’d inherited the original owner's memories—especially his infatuation with Xu Yan.

His memo was filled with everything about Xu Yan: her favorite colors, foods, sports, music...

But, as the saying goes, the falling flower has feelings, yet the flowing water is indifferent. Xu Yan never seemed interested in him, never even spoke to him with any warmth, let alone spent time alone with him.

For Chu Tianfeng, though, that was for the best. Otherwise, he truly wouldn’t know how to face Xu Yan.

"You’re welcome," Xu Yan replied, her face flushing even redder. "I just couldn’t stand by... Anyway, don’t get the wrong idea."

Chu Tianfeng could only offer a wry smile.

Had it been the former Chu Tianfeng, he might have gotten his hopes up. But now, he certainly wouldn’t.

Undeniably, Xu Yan was pure and beautiful—the image of a first love cherished by many men.

Unfortunately, Chu Tianfeng had no mood for romance, nor any wish to be entangled in his predecessor’s emotional debts.

He sincerely hoped to stay uninvolved with Xu Yan. As for her saving his life, he would find an opportunity to repay her.

“By the way,” Xiang Yanping quickly changed the subject, sensing the awkwardness, “I heard you got into a fight with Peng Yongliang again yesterday?”

“That’s right,” Chu Tianfeng shrugged. “Had a little spar with them.”

He knew Xiang Yanping was well-connected in the crew, so it would be hard to keep the fight with Peng Yongliang a secret—nor did he intend to.

“Did you win or lose?” Xiang Yanping asked.

“Lost. Badly,” Chu Tianfeng replied, hands spread.

“No matter. Two against one—nothing to be ashamed of!” Xiang Yanping laughed. “Next time, call me. Honestly, I’ve been itching to teach that brat a lesson.”

He and Chu Tianfeng were in similar situations—both outsiders, both had been shaken down by Peng Yongliang.

Luckily, Xiang Yanping had plenty of friends in the crew, so Peng Yongliang rarely troubled him.

Xu Yan frowned slightly. “Why bother with someone like Peng Yongliang? A person of value should not throw themselves away over a thief.”

Chu Tianfeng could only offer another wry smile.

In truth, he was just an orphan, utterly alone, with nothing to his name—not even a home.

The so-called “person of value” had nothing to do with him; “thief” was a more accurate label, considering he’d once been a notorious bandit—a legendary thief of a thousand years.

Besides, his grudge with Peng Yongliang wasn’t something he could simply let go of.

The feud had lasted too long—even if he stopped pursuing Xu Yan, Peng Yongliang wouldn’t let him off easily.

"Enough, enough," Jiang Ziyue interrupted, raising her hand. "Aren’t we going to finish eating?"

"I’m done," Chu Tianfeng said, pushing his plate away.

He hadn’t had much appetite to begin with, and the food was truly hard to swallow.

Afterward, he said goodbye to Xiang Yanping and the others, then went to find Zhang Qiang as agreed. Without a word, Zhang Qiang took him to see Director Yang Yi.

Yang Yi was a middle-aged man with a long beard and flowing hair, and a thick pair of glasses perched on his nose.

One had to admit, he looked very much the artist—just short of having the word “ARTIST” stamped across his forehead.

“You’re Chu Tianfeng?” Yang Yi asked directly.

“Yes.” Since Yang Yi hadn’t invited him to sit, Chu Tianfeng remained standing.

Fortunately, Zhang Qiang, already seated on the sofa, noticed and pulled Chu Tianfeng down beside him.

“You did well last night. I hope you perform just as well tonight.” Yang Yi seemed unaware of Chu Tianfeng’s fainting incident, making no mention of it.

“Thank you, Director Yang,” Chu Tianfeng replied, not wanting to complicate matters.

“Last night you played a soldier. Tonight, I’m promoting you,” Yang Yi said with a smile.

“Will I die?” Chu Tianfeng was less concerned with the role—soldier or general—than with whether or not he’d die.

“So eager to die?” Yang Yi’s smile grew.

After twenty years as a director, he knew well the difference between dying and not dying on screen.

Zhang Qiang, meanwhile, pressed his hands to his face, snickering.

“Yes, I have a lot of experience playing corpses.” In truth, Chu Tianfeng wanted to say, “I really want to die. Please, let me die again—no matter what.”

Zhang Qiang silently mourned for Chu Tianfeng. Poor kid—addicted to dying!

“If you want to die so much, I’ll grant your wish,” Yang Yi said, looking at him with interest.

“Bring it on—make my death as tragic as possible,” thought Chu Tianfeng.

“Tonight’s scenes are different. You have two takes—both close combat. You’ll play a Cao army captain. The Cao forces are defeated by Sun and Liu’s allied fire attack and retreat. You lead a handful of soldiers to resist and cover the main force’s withdrawal,” Yang Yi explained, gesturing vividly.

“The first scene, you’re surrounded by dozens of enemies, fight bravely, and are stabbed to death with spears. The second, you die even worse—hacked to pieces, not even a complete corpse left.” Yang Yi grew more animated as he spoke.

“Are there any lines?” Chu Tianfeng found himself getting excited too.

“Yes, several. They’re all here.” Yang Yi handed him a printed page. “Read them carefully. There isn’t much time—memorize them all. Try to get it in one take, like last night.”

Chu Tianfeng took the script, elated. “Thank you, Director Yang. I’ll do my best.”

“Good. I like your spirit,” Yang Yi said, patting his shoulder. “I’m counting on you. Off you go.”