Chapter 148 Every Echo Has a Response

Elsewhere, in the hotel, Zhu Yiyang and Xu Lai were still awake.

Xu Lai was reading a script, his brows furrowing as he went deeper into the pages.

"Is this... is this really going to work?"

Zhu Yiyang was brimming with confidence. "Why wouldn't it? Rome wasn't built in a day. For people like us, this is a god-tier script."

Xu Lai fell into deep thought.

Zhu Yiyang continued, "One person, one landslide, one car, one movie—you tell me, isn't that badass?"

Xu Lai’s eyes lit up. Thinking about it that way, it wasn't entirely impossible; it actually seemed to have a certain sense of style.

"But... but can this even make it to theaters?"

"Why would we need to hit theaters? You use this as a stepping stone to enter the ranks of film directors, and I use it to transition into acting. The biggest costs will likely just be the car and your team; we can pull it off for a million. With this kind of film, the 'free' version is the most valuable. Once it's finished, we sell it to Penguin Video or DY. Don't forget Tang Ge’s connections on both sides; this is a guaranteed profit. It’s like a cow eating grass and producing milk for us to drink—multiple wins at once!" Zhu Yiyang said, his excitement palpable.

This was one of the stories Tang Zhichu had told him.

A person driving, caught in a landslide, buried and trapped in their car, forced to find a way to save themselves.

It was a simple story.

However, for a director and an actor, it was the ultimate test of skill. The simpler the concept, the harder it was to film and perform.

Why was Zhu Yiyang so eager to hang on every word Tang Zhichu said?

It was because Tang Zhichu had told him that if he followed his guidance, he could turn even a pig into a Best Actor winner.

Upon reflection, Zhu Yiyang realized that these kinds of stories were indeed the best way to temper acting ability, and the key was that Tang Zhichu had given him three such stories.

Was it absurd?

If it were an experienced director, they could film all three in a month.

But Xu Lai was different; he was a novice, too.

To paraphrase Tang Zhichu, if a pig followed his method, he could train it into a famous director.

Why?

By stacking works.

If one isn't enough experience, what about ten?

Once the techniques are mastered—one film every ten days, three in a month—who the hell could have more experience than you?

That was the strategy Tang Zhichu used to win over Zhu Yiyang. Its feasibility was far higher than trying to be some kind of idol.

Just as Tang Zhichu had told Zhou Yun: as long as Xu Lai came to Yuzhou, the one who would be anxious wasn't Tang Zhichu, but Zhu Yiyang.

Zhu Yiyang couldn't wait to drag Xu Lai off to shoot the film immediately.

Tang Zhichu didn't need to do anything; as long as he kept Xu Lai in Yuzhou, Zhu Yiyang would handle the rest.

Director Xu Sr. has an opinion? Then he’d have to go find Zhu Yiyang. He’s the screenwriter and lead actor coaxing your son into making a movie; what does that have to do with me, Tang Zhichu?

"For you and me, is making money important? Sure, it's important, but right now, it’s not the priority. What we need is experience. If I gave you this story, how long would it take you to film it?" Zhu Yiyang asked, striking while the iron was hot.

Xu Lai thought for a moment. "At most, two weeks, start to finish."

"If you spend two weeks playing in Yuzhou and finish a movie, what kind of expression do you think your dad would have?"

Xu Lai paused, then gritted his teeth. "I'm calling Uncle Zhang!"

In the morning, Tang Zhichu was woken up by the cold. The hotel air conditioner was a bit old; he couldn't feel it at twenty-five degrees, but at twenty-four, he felt it, yet it would quietly chill him just when he thought the temperature was perfect.

Where was the blanket?

He turned his head and saw someone curled up like a caterpillar, with only a head peeking out, dark hair spread messily across the pillow.

Tang Zhichu sat up and turned off the air conditioner.

He got dressed and sent a message to Wang Jun on his phone.

He stretched, and when he turned back, Zhou Yun was awake.

She rubbed her slightly bleary eyes and looked at Tang Zhichu, her voice laced with a low, magnetic quality. "What time is it?"

"Six-thirty."

"Then can I snooze for a bit longer?"

"Yeah, snooze a bit. I had someone send some food over; I'll call you in a while."

"Okay."

By the time Zhou Yun opened her eyes again, it was seven-thirty.

She rolled over and kicked the blanket away.

She sat up, heard some movement outside, got out of bed, and ran to the door to find Tang Zhichu mopping the floor.

He moved with great care; the wet mop left a trail that contrasted with the dry floor, and with each pass, the floor grew shinier.

As if sensing the gaze from the bedroom doorway, Tang Zhichu looked back. He pointed at Zhou Yun’s bare legs and said with a hint of reproach, "Put your shoes on. It’s cold in the morning."

Zhou Yun looked down. She wasn't one for such formalities, her fair, delicate feet pressing directly against the floor.

She huffed, and instead of putting on slippers, she tiptoed over to him.

As she got closer, the floor was a bit slippery, and she nearly fell.

Tang Zhichu reached out and grabbed her arm, saying crossly, "How old are you!"

Zhou Yun chuckled, hopped onto the sofa, and rubbed her feet against Tang Zhichu. "See, it’s clean again!"

Tang Zhichu’s eyes wandered.

Zhou Yun was still wearing his oversized white shirt. After a night, the fabric was wrinkled.

Following the line of the legs resting against him, her fair, long legs seemed to reflect the light, completely smooth. Moving up, there were white, form-fitting shorts.

Tang Zhichu put down the mop and went into the bedroom. When he came back out, he had Zhou Yun’s clothes in his hand.

He didn't care if Zhou Yun was willing or not; he sat down next to her, pulled out her black trousers, and began to pull them onto her legs.

"You're trying to pull that on me? You think I’d be tempted by you!" Tang Zhichu said firmly.

Zhou Yun didn't resist. While Tang Zhichu was putting her pants on, she even cooperated by lifting her hips slightly. They were very close, and Zhou Yun was leaning almost entirely against him.

Looking at Tang Zhichu’s handsome face so close by, Zhou Yun’s head heated up, and she leaned in.

What did it feel like?

Zhou Yun’s face was flushed, her eyes soft and alluring. She asked in a low voice, "Do you have any feelings now?"

Tang Zhichu didn't speak, but Zhou Yun could feel the burning intensity in his gaze.

Tang Zhichu leaned in too, but he only gently wrapped his arms around Zhou Yun. With a slight pull