Chapter 157: Filming in Progress
After Lu Xu spoke up once, the atmosphere on the Fearless Life set immediately improved.
The two actors played Bo Qianshan’s close friends and supporters—characters filled with positivity. However, their personalities were completely different from their roles, creating a noticeable sense of dissonance. Once they settled down, though, they gradually aligned better with their characters.
However, the dramatic scenario that most would imagine—where Lu Xu’s intervention deeply moved the director—never happened. Lu Xu continued portraying his role quietly, while Miao Zhi treated him no differently than before. He still gave scene directions and emphasized the script, and Lu Xu actually grew accustomed to this filming dynamic.
The crew members, however, became noticeably friendlier toward him day by day.
The two young actors had shown only lukewarm respect to the director, and their attitude toward the regular staff had been even more arrogant. While their arrogance wasn’t excessive, it was enough to leave the crew feeling stifled.
Even Lu Xu, the film’s lead, wasn’t acting like a diva, yet these two minor stars insisted on putting on airs. Once Lu Xu spoke up, they naturally couldn’t keep up their act.
For the regular crew members, life on set became noticeably easier.
“Our director’s temper is just too good—almost like anyone can walk all over him.”
“It’s not that he doesn’t have a temper. If he really wanted to push back…”
Miao Zhi had once been quite formidable. When Liu Rennong first started suppressing him, there was a director’s forum attended by industry leaders and fellow directors. Right there, in front of everyone, Miao Zhi had publicly torn into Liu Rennong, leaving him utterly humiliated. No matter how well-connected Liu Rennong was, in that setting, he had struggled to maintain his dignity.
But now, Miao Zhi no longer had the sharp edge of his younger years.
…
Lu Xu was unaware of the thoughts of the crew members. If he had known, he would not have agreed with them.
If Miao Zhi had completely lacked sharpness and had only mechanically filmed movies, he would never have persisted until now. Being a director was a demanding job—it required overseeing the filming process while also managing the various affairs of the crew in an organized manner.
In his past life, Lu Xu’s acting career had progressed smoothly. Some people had suggested that he try directing, but he had rejected the idea without a second thought.
Being a director was already difficult, and to gain a certain level of recognition in the industry—to at least maintain a steady stream of scripts—one had to possess real skill.
Not long after joining the crew for Fearless Life, Lu Xu had discovered that Miao Zhi was meticulous and serious.
His meticulousness lay in the fact that he had his own understanding of the characters. If an actor did not perform according to his vision, he would not force them or scold them. Instead, he would subtly guide them toward his intended direction.
For example, when two actors had not been cooperative enough, Miao Zhi had been willing to wait several times over just to achieve his goal—his approach was simply less aggressive than that of other directors.
As for Lu Xu’s acting style, Miao Zhi had approved of it because Lu Xu treated the script with great dedication. After joining the crew, he had discussed his interpretation of the character with Miao Zhi.
In terms of the overall direction, they had agreed, but when it came to details, Miao Zhi had been willing to spend time helping Lu Xu refine his portrayal.
Most importantly—his insights had been extremely valuable.
Although Miao Zhi was not as well-known as Mu Lang, he had been the most articulate director Lu Xu had ever worked with. He never left things vague or expected actors to find the right feeling on their own. After all, inspiration did not always come on demand, and in many cases, that so-called feeling might never materialize at all.
Miao Zhi had been very clear in his approach.
Perhaps, compared to other directors, he had been slightly less reliant on inspiration, and his works had been more structured. However, Lu Xu had not believed that this meant Miao Zhi lacked ability—it was simply a matter of different priorities.
The way Miao Zhi interpreted a character had been incredibly precise. He had even been able to demonstrate it himself for Lu Xu.
Lu Xu had suspected that the director had once been an actor. He had asked him directly and had received a confirmation.
…
The early filming of Fearless Life had gone smoothly. The scene where Bai Qianshan returned to his homeland had been particularly emotional—his friends overseas had waved goodbye to him with tears in their eyes, promising to reunite in a few years. Yet at that moment, none of them had known that this farewell would last a lifetime.
The emotional weight of the scene had been strong, and that had happened to be Lu Xu’s specialty.
At that point in the story, Bai Qianshan had been full of ambition, yet deeply devoted to his homeland. This had reminded Lu Xu of his own portrayal of Nie Yunchang—though one had been a historical figure and the other a modern one, the emotions they carried had been the same.
However, after returning to his country, Bai Qianshan had been caught off guard by the harsh conditions.
Lu Xu had previously laughed at Shao Yao for having to eat sand while filming, but in reality, his own experience had not been much different. Around the halfway mark of filming, Fearless Life had moved to a new location—the area near the research facility where Bai Qianshan had once worked.
That facility had since been converted into an exhibition center, and after the crew had settled in, Miao Zhi had not let Lu Xu continue filming right away. Instead, he had assigned him a task—to interact with Bai Qianshan’s former colleagues and gain a deeper understanding of the character.
“You’ve done a great job summarizing the character,” Miao Zhi had said, “but I think there’s still more to uncover. Reading the script and experiencing things firsthand are two very different things.”
This was a task that should have been done earlier, but at the time, Lu Xu had been busy promoting Reverse City, and Zhao Yifan had been stirring up trouble. So, Miao Zhi had postponed it.
As a director, Miao Zhi had been rather accommodating toward Lu Xu. The filming schedule of Fearless Life had coincided with the promotional period of Reverse City, yet Miao Zhi had been willing to adjust the shooting schedule to allow Lu Xu to focus on the film’s publicity.
Directors like him were actually quite rare, especially in the film industry. Outsiders might have thought that Miao Zhi was easy to push around, but Lu Xu had seen it as a sign of respect for the actors.
During a film’s production, unexpected situations were inevitable, and in those moments, Miao Zhi had simply chosen not to be overly rigid.
Given the director’s arrangement, Lu Xu had, of course, approached the task with diligence.
Thus, the crew had gone ahead with filming other scenes while Lu Xu had been given about a week to observe and reflect.
There had been plenty of resources on Bai Qianshan—documentaries, biographies, and written records. Many of the materials displayed at the exhibition center had already been reviewed by Lu Xu, but there had still been details that were little known to the public.
For example—Bai Qianshan had not been a perfect man.
In order to achieve his goals, he had often shut himself away for days on end, entering a state of near-madness and obsession.
Moreover, he had not been particularly attentive to his family. While he had become a revered scientist, in the eyes of his children, he had remained a distant and cold figure.
Even after they had grown up and come to understand him as a scientist, they had still struggled to comprehend him as a father.
Beyond that, Bai Qianshan had been somewhat stubborn. His loyalty and devotion to his country had been unwavering, but he had been indifferent to those around him. For instance, he had once proposed a project to divert a river to facilitate transportation and hydroelectric power. However, if the river had been cut off, a neighboring country’s water supply would have been disrupted, potentially leading to land desertification.
And yet, despite all his flaws, his colleagues had still liked, respected, and admired him.
…
When Lu Xu had visited one of Bai Qianshan’s old colleagues, the mere mention of his name had brought the man to tears.
“…You can’t even begin to imagine how dangerous those experiments were back then,” the man had said.
“He was invaluable. When he was assigned to our team, the leaders had given strict instructions—listen to him, prioritize his use of the facilities and materials, and no matter what happened, his safety came first. That was over sixty years ago. During one experiment, the smoke shot up so high we thought we were done for. But he kicked me out of the room and stayed behind to hold the line himself.”
“That project that everyone knows about—without his persistence, it wouldn’t have existed at all. And even now, it’s still making an impact.”
The Bai Qianshan this man had described was not some saint-like figure, but an ordinary person. Someone who had spent sleepless nights chain-smoking, only to hide the cigarette butts from his wife for fear of being scolded—only to accidentally set a book on fire.
In his youth, Bai Qianshan had been full of ambition and unafraid of risks. But once he had entered the research facility, working on projects that would influence not just his generation but generations to come, he had gradually become more cautious.
In the Fearless Life production, Bai Qianshan had been portrayed as a great and fearless man, seemingly without any flaws. But no person could ever truly become a god.
While completing the task assigned by Miao Zhi, Lu Xu had gradually realized how he could further enrich Bai Qianshan’s character.
That week had been immensely rewarding. And rather than feeling like his time had been delayed, Lu Xu had felt the opposite—his deeper understanding of Bai Qianshan had allowed him to immerse himself in the role even more completely.
…
Once the filming for Bai Qianshan’s scenes at the research facility began, Lu Xu completely settled into the role.
In the script, Bai Qianshan had resolutely made the decision to sacrifice himself. He had been portrayed as noble, fearless, and almost divine. But after learning more about the real events, Lu Xu had realized that while the overall framework of the script was correct, some of the details were worth reconsidering.
Miao Zhi had also been closely observing Lu Xu’s performance in this scene.
Through the monitor, Bai Qianshan had appeared restless, even muttering a quiet curse before kicking a piece of equipment. He had not believed there had been any flaws in his design or process—if something had gone wrong, it had to have been the machine’s fault. Bai Qianshan had been a confident and proud man, after all.
But at the same time, he had never thought of himself as superior to others.
As Lu Xu had acted out the details of Bai Qianshan’s interactions with his colleagues, he had subtly conveyed this aspect of his character.
Despite his extraordinary talent and his role as the project leader, Bai Qianshan had still viewed himself as equal to his colleagues. The project’s success had not been his achievement alone—everyone had played a vital part in it.
In short, Bai Qianshan had been a mortal man, capable of joy, anger, sorrow, and frustration—like in this very moment.
Now, it had been time for Bai Qianshan to make his decision.
Lu Xu had delivered a strong performance leading up to this point, and for this crucial shot, Miao Zhi had been eager to see how he would bring it to life.
Lu Xu had let out a quiet sigh, his bloodshot eyes flickering with a trace of regret. He had reached for a cigarette out of habit, only to remember that smoking was not allowed in the lab.
“Can’t even have a damn cigarette before I die, huh.”
“When you write my epitaph, make sure to note that my greatest regret in life was not getting a final smoke.”
In the next moment, as if he had finally made up his mind, he kicked his colleague out of the room and swiftly threw the experimental results to safety.
After completing these actions, the camera captured Lu Xu breaking into a carefree, utterly unburdened smile—one free of regret, pure and untainted.
That smile was so genuine, so raw, that even Miao Zhi was left stunned.
**TN
The schedule malfunctioned and missed chapter 155 yesterday. (T.T) Make sure not to miss it.
