Chapter 29: Explosive Acting

Under the watchful eyes of the crew, the set was ready.

Li Yang, playing Pan Sheng, and the other victims were bound, their hands tied behind their backs, looking utterly miserable. The guards tasked with overseeing them stood by with baseball bats, monitoring their every move. On the steps by the entrance, numerous veteran employees observed the scene. Qi Hao, cast as the secondary villain—a thug wielding a machine gun—had already taken his designated spot.

Director Beret sat before the monitor and asked, "Are all departments ready?"

"Lighting is ready!"
"Props are ready!"
"Camera department is ready, no issues."
"..."

Beret nodded and said, "Attention everyone, starting now! Scene 109, take one, first shot! Action!"

The clapperboard snapped, and the script supervisor quickly ducked out of the frame.

Under the monitor, Cheng Cheng, dressed in Southeast Asian-style clothing, holding a popsicle, and wearing a string of prayer beads on his wrist, walked up and gave the secondary villain played by Qi Hao a kick.

"Hitting them again?"
"We rely on brains to make a living; if you break them, are you going to cover the loss?"

As he spoke, he followed his precise marks, walking in front of Qi Hao. Facing the group of newly captured "pigs," he ignored the camera nearly pressed against his face and said, "Sorry everyone, let me apologize on his behalf. My name is Lu, I’m the manager here. From now on, you will be working for me. Thank you for your cooperation, alright!"

After half a month of accumulation, Cheng Cheng’s acting skill had reached 85 points, making such a role effortless. Furthermore, he had drawn a "height pill," bringing his current stature to 186 centimeters. Standing among actors who averaged 178 centimeters, he stood out like a crane in a flock of chickens. Even with his shoulders slightly slumped, he exuded an imposing aura that made it impossible to ignore him.

The moment he appeared, he silenced everyone.

Beret’s pupils constricted. "Cheng is..."
Meng Cai swallowed hard...
An unknown extra shouted, "I’ll cooperate with your mother, you piece of trash! I want to go home!"

The thugs with baseball bats immediately rushed forward, pinning the "pigs" to the ground and beating them. Amidst the chaos, Cheng Cheng took a pistol from Li Yang, covered one ear with a hand, and fired a shot into the air. Without even looking, he handed the gun back to Qi Hao behind him, then pointed at the victims being beaten on the ground and said:

"Help them up. They’re all colleagues now~"
"The things you want, you can't get out there, but you can here—and very quickly, too~"

Soon, the scene wrapped. Cheng Cheng walked over to the monitor and sat next to Beret, watching the footage. Everyone stared at him with strange expressions, as if seeing him for the first time. Even Beret was somewhat dazed.

Cheng Cheng said, "No issues. It’s a wrap, let’s move to the next shot."

He was acting and judging his own performance, yet no one questioned him. The looks directed at Cheng Cheng were filled with astonishment and awe; they couldn't believe what they had just witnessed was the same Cheng Cheng they knew.

His performance seemed relaxed, but any professional could see that the scene was anything but simple. This was the first appearance of the film's primary antagonist, so it had to leave a deep impression, otherwise the character wouldn't hold up. Cheng Cheng had succeeded! Not just succeeded, but done so brilliantly.

He turned a mundane scene into a silent thunderclap. With just a few lines, he laid bare the underlying ruthlessness of the character. His eyes, in particular, appeared calm on the surface but held an unfathomable depth. He looked at the victims not as people, but as livestock, corpses, or cargo.

This sensation was profound. Professionals could see the layers of his acting—the top, the middle, and the base, all distinct and clear. Those who didn't know the craft couldn't identify the layers, but they instinctively felt that this man was dangerous and terrifying.

Wen Lian parted her red lips, stunned, and whispered to Yan Gou'er, "Is Director Cheng’s acting really this good? I have this feeling like he isn't even acting. Damn!"

She couldn't help but swear: "His acting wasn't this good before! I’ve been binge-watching his previous shows over the past few days, and they were clearly terrible! How could he change so much? It’s not scientific!"

Yan Gou'er was also distracted, struggling to speak, "Sister Lian, do you think Director Cheng’s acting is the best among all of us?"

Hearing this, Wen Lian fell silent. She didn't want to admit it, but it seemed... it truly was!

Compared to them, Qi Hao, who was acting in close proximity to Cheng Cheng, was even more shaken. Just now, he felt like he could barely keep up with Cheng Cheng. Even though they didn't exchange many lines or glances, the sheer presence Cheng Cheng projected had completely suppressed him.

He was a veteran of web movies and considered his acting strong—he had starred in over a dozen films and had never been criticized for his performance. Yet, he had been totally outclassed. He felt as if he had truly entered the character; even though he was the secondary villain, doing most of the dirty work and shouting, he remained a "small character" compared to the seemingly kind and ordinary "Lu Bingkun."

Qi Hao felt a bit discouraged. Watching Cheng Cheng’s back, he wore a bitter expression: *Is this level of acting even possible at his age?*

Li Yang was also in a daze. The Cheng Cheng he just saw reminded him of the award-winning actor Chu Qing, whom he had once had the privilege of working with. It was the same understated approach, yet even the small glimpse of his talent was enough to leave one trembling.

"What are you staring at?" Cheng Cheng broke the silence. "Next scene!"

Being able to stun everyone present secretly thrilled Cheng Cheng, but he showed nothing on his face. He wanted to pull off the most explosive performance with the most indifferent attitude.

For today’s performance, he hadn't just relied on his 85-point acting skill; he had also used two drops of "miracle eye drops" to deepen his understanding of the "scam mastermind's" gaze.

As his understanding of the system grew, Cheng Cheng began to grasp what the acting score really meant. It was a composite of emotional expression, technique, characterization, and immersion. Within technique, there were subdivisions like body language, delivery, facial expressions, vocal usage, and emotional range. An 85-point score was a total, not an indicator that every sub-skill was at 85.

Furthermore, difficulty varied by role type. Roles with rich emotions, drastic contrasts, historical figures, or specific backgrounds were far harder to portray than generic characters. An 85-point score wasn't a catch-all; it didn't mean he could play every role at that level. For instance, if he were to play an emperor, he might only reach 80 or lower. But if he played a version of himself—a celebrity—he might over-perform and exceed 85.

The "miracle eye drops" and similar items allowed him to specifically boost his capability for certain types of roles. Even if he eventually raised his base score to 100, these items would still provide room for significant improvement. Cheng Cheng estimated that after the two drops, his performance as Lu Bingkun was at least an 88, if not higher.