Chapter 41: Visiting the Set

[Whoa!! Lu Xu’s good looks have been magnified a hundredfold! And Lu Xu is already my ultimate top-tier visual!]

[The eyeliner is so enchanting! How can someone look both handsome and beautiful while radiating so much charisma?]

[Ahhhhh, all the hotties, please hurry up and play all the cool characters for me!]

[Frantically taking screenshots and saving pictures. Ji Xiuya has me captivated for thirty whole seconds. How can someone look so stunning?]

The official Weibo account of Supreme was completely stunned by the overwhelming reaction to their trailer. Before releasing the trailer, they had shared various behind-the-scenes clips of the crew, but the engagement—likes, comments, and shares—had only been in the thousands at most. This time, however, shares skyrocketed past ten thousand in no time, and the numbers kept climbing. The crew had never seen anything like it.

If there was a difference, it was probably that… the trailer included Ji Xiuya.

The crew members specifically went back to check their earlier Weibo posts. Sure enough, on the rare occasion that a post featured Ji Xiuya, the shares and likes were noticeably higher than usual.

“Is a face really that important?”

“Of course! Otherwise, why does everyone pursue beauty instead of ugliness?”

In some ways, Supreme only started gaining public attention after that group photo of Zheng Xiao, Wei Yi, and Lu Xu was released.

In any case, having such a highly charismatic character like Ji Xiuya saved the production a lot of advertising expenses.

It was as if the production team had suddenly hit the jackpot. Once the trailer’s shares surpassed fifty thousand, the official Weibo account seized the momentum and released a slew of Ji Xiuya-related behind-the-scenes clips.

Titles like “The Daily Life of Demon Lord Ji,” “Mirror, Mirror, Who’s the Most Beautiful Man in the World?” and “The Demon Lord Gets Beaten Up by the Male and Female Leads—Details Inside…” were posted one after another, keeping Ji Xiuya’s fans so busy saving pictures that they simply couldn’t stop.

The post titled “The Demon Lord Ji Gets Beaten Up by the Male and Female Leads” caused an especially lively discussion in the comments section.

In the bustling chaos of the set, Ji Xiuya’s gaze was cold and condescending as he curled his fingers slightly like eagle claws. “I’ll make sure no one in this crew survives…”

“Stop being so dramatic. Want a lychee?” Wei Yi interrupted, tossing a lychee toward Lu Xu. He caught it effortlessly, then another, and another, each time with perfect precision.

When he finally stopped to focus on peeling the lychee, Zheng Xiao yanked his hair while Wei Yi grabbed his arm, teasing, “Come on, teach me how to act cute.”

Laughter erupted on set.

[The way he catches the lychees so seriously—and peels them even more seriously—he looks like a little puppy!]

[Adorable! And this Demon Lord’s over-the-top antics strike again!]

[I’ll make sure no one else in this crew eats lychees. They’re all mine!]

[Golden Retriever Puppy Eating Lychees.jpg.]

[More, more! We need more behind-the-scenes clips!]

[Can I say it now? Casting Lu Xu as Ji Xiuya was the best decision ever. His face alone is a fan magnet!]

Supreme was just a modestly funded production. During the same broadcast period, multiple dramas were airing on various platforms, and Supreme wasn’t particularly noteworthy among them. If it had aired during the summer, a peak time for fierce competition among major productions, it might have faded into obscurity.

But now, the buzz surrounding Supreme had skyrocketed.

“Finally, a new drama to follow,” Tan Qi murmured excitedly to her friends.

Just one drama like Son of Heaven had inspired so much fan-created content. It was easy to imagine how massive the wave of fan art, edits, and other creations would be once Supreme aired—especially centered around Ji Xiuya!

This was the joy of being a fan!

After Supreme announced its official release date, the drama Book of Nine Revolutions, which featured Chen Ye in the cast, also revealed its own release schedule. Instead of overlapping with Supreme, it was slated for the more competitive summer season.

On one hand, the Book of Nine Revolutions production team didn’t want to be tied to Supreme. Compared to Book of Nine Revolutions, Supreme had a much smaller production scale, and being associated with it would only serve to boost the latter’s popularity for free. On the other hand, there was lingering resentment over Chen Ye’s unprofessional behavior when he abruptly left Supreme mid-production.

Lu Xu’s fans were infamous for their tenacity. The last time they dug into a prominent actress and a rising actor, the two were left humiliated. If Book of Nine Revolutions ended up going head-to-head with Supreme, it was likely that the few remaining shreds of dignity for Chen Ye and his co-stars would be completely stripped away.

That said, the truth was one thing, but marketing was another. The Book of Nine Revolutions team took a different approach in their promotions, proudly declaring that their production was so significant that only the prestigious summer season was a fitting slot for its release.

[Ugh, so full of themselves. Summer season, wow, how impressive.]

[They claim they’re not belittling ‘small productions,’ but they’re clearly taking digs every chance they get. Let’s see if their buzz can even match Supreme—won’t that be awkward if it doesn’t?]

Of course, Supreme supporters were just venting. While Lu Xu’s previous dramas, My Baby Prince and Son of Heaven, had both managed to succeed against bigger productions, that didn’t guarantee Supreme would have the same luck.

Tan Qi and her friends had already watched Supreme trailer seven or eight times and had viewed the GIFs of Lu Xu catching lychees countless more. When they finally arrived at the set of The Path of Bones, they were bursting with excitement.

The production team had offered only a limited number of visiting slots, and Tan Qi had worked hard to secure the opportunity. As soon as she stepped onto the set, her eyes landed on Lu Xu, who was deep in discussion with the director.

“He really does feel different now,” her friend whispered softly.

Tan Qi nodded silently, fully agreeing.

In the later days of Verse—or more precisely, during the time she gradually lost interest in the group—Lu Xu had grown increasingly silent. His once-bright light seemed to dim more and more, to the point where it was nearly invisible.

He had always been overshadowed by his teammates.

But now, despite his current styling being far less trendy than when he was in the group, Lu Xu gave her a completely different feeling—one of lightness.

His face was relaxed, his whole demeanor softer, yet his gaze was more focused than ever, and his posture much firmer.

Back when he was in Verse, perhaps from enduring too much criticism, Lu Xu had seemed deeply insecure, his frame even appearing less upright.

Now, it seemed like he was in the midst of a disagreement with the director. The two stood off to the side, discussing for quite a while. Later, the director called over another actor, then more people joined in, and soon Lu Xu was surrounded. Some people hooked arms with him, others joked and chatted with him—it was clear that he was the center of the The Path of Bones crew.

Eventually, the disagreement appeared resolved. Lu Xu turned around, a radiant smile lighting up his face.

Tan Qi couldn’t resist capturing the moment in a photo.

The sunlight was perfect that day, with blue skies and white clouds. Everything felt warm and bright, and Lu Xu seemed to stand at the very center of the glow, exuding warmth himself.

Later, she got the chance to take a group photo with the cast.

The crew members were evidently seasoned in handling fans. Upon seeing younger ones like Tan Qi, they instinctively nudged Lu Xu forward.

Tan Qi and her friend ended up standing right next to Lu Xu, so nervous they could barely speak. Being that close to him, his strikingly handsome features were magnified a hundredfold.

This Lu Xu was even more attractive than he had been during his Verse days!

After meeting Lu Xu in person, Tan Qi realized that his personality hadn’t changed much from before. He still wasn’t very talkative, far less lively than he appeared on Weibo. However, just as they finished taking their group photo and she nervously tried to say something to him but froze, she suddenly heard his soft voice by her ear:

“I remember you. You used to come see me often.”

His voice was still as light as a feather, yet it stirred an overwhelming urge in Tan Qi to cry right there and then.

To Lu Xu, his time in Verse might have been an unhappy chapter of his life, but he still remembered the fans who had loved him.

She was deeply thankful that Lu Xu had found his way out of that period. Now, she could visit him on set and watch him in the shows he acted in.

Whether it was back then or now, she would always cherish the moment she first felt her heart move for someone she admired.

The current Lu Xu didn’t have the original owner’s memories, but the original Lu Xu had been a kind person who valued his time as a member of Verse. He had kept many photos from his debut days—group shots with his fellow members, pictures with fans, and moments from award ceremonies.

The girl visiting the set today had appeared frequently in those early fan photos, and Lu Xu remembered her.

He didn’t dwell on why she had disappeared for a while. Her return now meant that her affection for him was genuine and enduring.

And because of that, the original owner’s years in Verse had meaning.

Even someone who was constantly criticized as a burden, inundated with scandals, and labeled as worthless had fans who truly loved him.

Lu Xu sincerely wished that the original owner could have known this.

“Lu Xu, you’re really popular!”

“All the fans visiting the set today are here for you. Hardly anyone’s come to see us. Time is cruel, huh? Back in the day, I was the heartthrob of the academy, and now I’m just some old guy nobody notices,” joked one of the older cast members with a self-deprecating laugh.

“You’re the campus heartthrob? You? More like a dandelion at best,” another actor teased, quickly deflating Qian Ji’s self-praise. “Do you remember when we first met? Even back then, you weren’t as good-looking as me.”

“Come on, don’t hit where it hurts. Can’t you give me a little face?” Qian Ji pleaded in mock indignation.

While occasional skepticism about The Path of Bones surfaced in the public eye, the atmosphere within the crew remained calm. Most of the actors had read the original material and were drawn to their roles out of genuine interest.

Their deep understanding of the characters brought a level of performance that felt notably different.

The fact that the drama wasn’t hyped also worked to its advantage. With minimal external distractions, the production progressed smoothly. Among the cast, Lu Xu was the only one with significant attention from fans, and even his fame was still fresh enough not to cause chaos on set.

The scene being filmed today was a pivotal moment after Yu Yi unearthed hidden truths, leading to a dangerous encounter.

More than one person had plotted to ensure the demise of Team 01, including Du Xingchuan, a seemingly respectable university professor who secretly engaged in nefarious activities.

Reaching Du Xingchuan’s home was particularly arduous—Yu Yi had to crack multiple codes and overcome layers of obstacles before uncovering Du’s secrets.

That night, confirming that Du Xingchuan was at home, Yu Yi began his mission.

Du was indeed at home, working alone in his study.

Yu Yi moved cautiously, stealthily eliminating Du Xingchuan as he had in similar missions before. After completing his task and tidying up the scene, he suddenly heard footsteps outside the door.

The approaching person spoke in a voice identical to Du Xingchuan’s.

Yu Yi stayed utterly still, waiting in silence. After knocking on the door and receiving no answer, the footsteps gradually retreated.

Seizing the opportunity, Yu Yi opened the door, but that familiar voice rang out again:

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

“You killed Ji Yue and Zhong Xiao. I suppose the corpse on the ground right now is Du Xingchuan’s, isn’t it?”

Yu Yi’s mind screamed with alarm, his nerves stretched taut as if his very pores were about to burst open.

The Path of Bones was both a tale of revenge and a suspense-filled drama. At this critical juncture, Yu Yi was closer to death than ever before.

Outwardly, he maintained his composure, even using subtle movements to distract the person outside the door. In reality, his entire body was tense to the extreme, his heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might tear apart.

This scene posed no challenge for Lu Xu in most respects, except for this moment. Here, he had to convey the suffocating tension and electrifying suspense through his performance.

He couldn’t see who was outside the door, and with a lifeless body on the ground, the entire weight of the scene rested on his ability to express Yu Yi’s emotions in this one-man act.

Lei Ai, the director, fixed his eyes on the monitor, unblinking and motionless, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Lu Xu had a close-up shot.

On screen, the young man’s throat moved soundlessly, his fingers clenched tightly around the sharp blade. Amid the darkened surroundings, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, his muscles taut to their limit.

In the vast space, it seemed as though his breathing was the only sound.

Yet he knew—there was someone else there.

In that moment, time itself seemed to transform into a tormenting weapon.

The sweat on his forehead thickened, until his entire body was drenched.

“Cut!”

As the scene wrapped, Lei Ai couldn’t help but applaud Lu Xu.

This was a solo performance—no other actors to assist or inspire him, just a closed set and his own creativity.

The ability to adjust his body to perfectly suit the demands of filming was a testament to Lu Xu’s skill as an actor.

Since the beginning of production, Lu Xu had never once let Lei Ai down.

<< _ >>

Related Posts

Leave a Reply