Chapter 30: It Didn’t Look Like an Act—Wen Lian Was Scared Out of Her Wits

During the subsequent filming, all the actors realized what it felt like to be completely crushed by Cheng Cheng’s talent.

It was despair. Absolute despair.

This was especially true for Wen Lian, who had the most scenes opposite Cheng Cheng.

In the story, Wen Lian’s character, Liang Anna, had come to the park willingly to work as a sexy dealer, hoping to make some quick money and return home. However, she was unaware that Lu Bingkun, played by Cheng Cheng, never intended to let her leave.

If you can make money for me, why would I let you go? If you haven’t earned enough, then obviously, you keep working until you have!

In the script, after Liang Anna collaborated with Pan Sheng and earned five million for Lu Bingkun, she tried to leave. Lu Bingkun gave her two choices:
1. Marry me.
2. Earn another twenty million for me.

Liang Anna disagreed, questioning why he wouldn't let her go as promised once she earned the five million.

Let her go after earning five million? What a joke!

Lu Bingkun pressed her head down, forcing her to kneel before him. As for what that implied, it went without saying.

During that scene, Wen Lian was genuinely frightened by the look in Cheng Cheng’s eyes. After the director shouted "Cut," she couldn't break out of the character. She sat on the sidelines wrapped in a blanket, shivering, and it took over ten minutes for her to recover. For a moment, she had truly felt as though she were in the park, about to be violated by Cheng Cheng. At that instant, the cameras, lights, and sets had all faded away, leaving only Cheng Cheng and the raw desire in his eyes.

Yet, when Cheng Cheng wasn't acting and sat in front of the monitors, he reverted to that eccentric, beautiful boy who muttered things no one could understand—the contrast was extreme.

—

“Cut!”
...
“Cut!”
...
“Cut!”
...

This was a very simple scene.

The spell of Cheng Cheng almost never calling "Cut" was broken. Wen Lian had performed the scene three or four times, yet kept being interrupted. After two or three more takes, she couldn't help it anymore.

She asked, “Director, is there a problem with my performance?”

Cheng Cheng looked up from the monitors, his gaze shifting from the perfect, red-nailed feet on the screen to her actual feet, and said, “Oh, nothing. I just think shouting ‘Cut’ is quite fun.”

Wen Lian followed his gaze to her own feet. Her face flushed, her toes curled, and she spat, “Calling ‘Cut’ is just a lie!”

“Have you had enough fun then?” Wen Lian bit her lip.

Cheng Cheng replied, “Enough.” He had seen enough.

After the scene ended, Wen Lian went to the side to rest and whispered into Yan Gou’er’s ear, “Men are all the same. Even if they have mental health issues, they still stare at women.”

Yan Gou’er giggled and added, “And when someone with mental health issues stares at women, they do it even more blatantly, because you can’t really do anything to someone who’s mentally unstable.”

Wen Lian laughed, “You know, you’re right.”

Yan Gou’er’s gaze drifted downward, settling on Wen Lian’s feet, and she said, “Sister Lian, I was too far away to see clearly before. Let me take a close look—I want to see what kind of feet could catch Director Cheng’s eye.”

Wen Lian was annoyed, “You little brat, so you were watching too!”

She reached for Yan Gou’er’s ribs, “Tickle attack!”

Yan Gou’er quickly begged for mercy, “Sorry, Sister Lian, I was wrong! Spare me, I was just joking.”

—

As filming entered the middle phase, the set grew serious. Yan Gou’er had been filming one scene for over a dozen takes, and Cheng Cheng still wouldn’t pass it. This time, Cheng Cheng wasn't playing around; Yan Gou’er’s performance truly had issues. She could feel it herself, and before Cheng Cheng could even say anything, she was so anxious she was on the verge of tears.

After being cut off once again, Cheng Cheng called her to the side—a rare moment of seriousness for him. Everyone watched Yan Gou’er with concern.

Yan Gou’er was only 1.68 meters tall, nearly twenty centimeters shorter than Cheng Cheng, reaching only to his chin. Looking up at him, she stammered, “Director...”

“Little Gou’er, do you know why I refuse to let you pass this take?” Cheng Cheng looked down at her and asked.

Yan Gou’er knew where she was failing. Despite feeling ashamed, she looked up, bravely meeting Cheng Cheng’s eyes, and said, “Because I’m not acting well.”

Cheng Cheng waved his hand, “No, it’s not that your acting isn’t good enough.”

Yan Gou’er was puzzled, “Then—”

Cheng Cheng thought about how to phrase it, “How should I put it? Your acting is already quite strong for a newcomer. If this were a normal situation, I would have passed you. But this interrogation scene—if not acted well, it becomes very unlikable, and the audience will hate you.”

Yan Gou’er felt a warmth in her heart. Was the director doing this for her own good? Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt even more guilty. “I’m sorry, Director. I’ve held everyone up.”

Cheng Cheng said, “Don’t be like that. We are a team. Sit down.” He pointed to a chair nearby. “Sit, let me guide you through the scene.”

Yan Gou’er nodded softly and sat beside him. Cheng Cheng meticulously dissected his understanding of the character. In the original work, this scene for the character Song Yu was indeed a bit unlikable, and the original actress hadn't performed it well. After *No More Bets* was released, there was a popular comment: "Only that character felt like she was acting in a different movie."

Cheng Cheng didn't want Yan Gou’er’s debut to be met with such criticism. He hoped she could compensate through her performance.

Ten minutes later, Cheng Cheng patted Yan Gou’er on the shoulder, silently using a "One-Time Magical Acting Sticker" on her. To be safe, he used two at once, then said, “Alright, let’s try it again.”

Yan Gou’er felt a sudden spark of insight. She stood up and said, “Thank you, Director.”

When filming resumed, the difference was immediate.

In this scene, the character Song Yu’s boyfriend had been trapped by the syndicate led by Lu Bingkun, swindled out of eight million. Unable to accept the reality, he jumped from a building. He didn’t die, but he became a vegetable. Song Yu was in immense pain. Coincidentally, the policewoman in the film came to the school for anti-fraud awareness. Song Yu had previously asked the policewoman for help, wanting her to persuade her boyfriend, but the officer had been too busy dealing with countless victims and couldn't spare the time. Believing that victims should save themselves, she hadn't intervened. Now, seeing her again, Song Yu was filled with resentment and hatred.

As Cheng Cheng had said, the scene wasn't hard to act; the hard part was ensuring the audience wouldn't hate her.

—

“Little Song?” the actress playing the policewoman called out to Yan Gou’er.

Yan Gou’er turned back. Her delicate face was pale, and her long lashes fluttered. She wasn't crying; she was strong. But in her eyes, a glimmer like crushed diamonds reflected the agony in her heart.

Li Yang and the others stood frozen. The man in the beret leaned forward, staring at the monitor in disbelief. Was this the same Yan Gou’er from before?

The policewoman walked over, “Why are you here? Is this your school?”

Yan Gou’er replied, “Yes, I’m volunteering here.”

The man in the beret couldn't help himself and whispered, “Bravo!”

If this scene only showed resentment toward the policewoman, it would be hollow and pale. It had to convey exhaustion, guilt, and a sense of being shattered. The pain of losing her lover had to outweigh the hatred. Her self-loathing had to be greater than her hatred for the officer, and her hatred for the officer had to be greater than her anger at her boyfriend. Her emotions were complex; only by layering them could she make the audience empathize and feel for her character.

“Cut!”

Cheng Cheng led the applause, “That’s a wrap on this scene.”

Yan Gou’er trotted over, cheeky and eager, “Can I see how I did?”

“Of course, take a look.” Cheng Cheng shifted his seat to make room for her.

Yan Gou’er didn't sit; she leaned over, eyes fixed on the monitor. A breeze blew past, and the faint fragrance she wore spread through the air. Cheng Cheng’s nostrils flared, but he kept his eyes straight ahead.

After watching herself on the monitor, Yan Gou’er was stunned: *Is that really me?!*

Cheng Cheng turned to the man in the beret, “Director, check the schedule. Can we move Yan Gou’er’s other scenes to now? While she’s in a good state, let’s film a few more.”

A one-time acting card couldn't be wasted; it was effective for six hours, after all. The man in the beret fetched the schedule from logistics and checked it. He found it difficult to rearrange on such short notice, but he didn't refuse. It was his problem, not Cheng Cheng’s. He said, “Director Cheng, go ahead and film something else. I’ll coordinate it immediately.”

While the man in the beret went to coordinate, Wen Lian pulled Yan Gou’er aside, “What did Director Cheng say to you just now? How did you improve so much? Did he give you some kind of epiphany? Is his guidance really that useful?”

After a barrage of questions, Wen Lian perked her ears up. Yan Gou’er repeated everything Cheng Cheng had said, including the part about “if it’s not acted well, it becomes unlikable.”

After hearing it, Wen Lian rubbed her chin, “Hm, there’s nothing special about that. Does that mean you’re just a natural, Little Gou’er?”

Yan Gou’er was confused, “I don’t know. But after he finished talking to me, I felt like something in my brain just clicked, and it all became clear.”

“Something in your brain clicked?” Wen Lian giggled, “Little Gou’er, did you suddenly grow a brain?”

“And another thing!” Wen Lian added sourly, “I get the feeling the director treats you differently than everyone else. He even thought about how to keep the audience from hating you...”

Yan Gou’er countered, “Even if the director has some mental health issues, he’s actually very gentle! He’s gentle to everyone.”

“Plus, plus...” She looked away, “It’s not his fault he has those issues; he was clearly a victim...”

“That’s true,” Wen Lian said. “Actually, I overheard that Director Cheng is going back to the capital in two days. The lawsuit against the woman who slandered him for cheating is going to court.”

Yan Gou’er was surprised, “Oh? Is it going to court?”

She clenched her fists, praying silently: *I hope Director Cheng wins! I hope justice clears his name!*