Chapter 186: Joining the Crew
The filming location for Black & White was in a city with a rather unique architectural style. The production team had arranged for a hotel in the city center, and Lu Xu took a morning flight. By the afternoon, he had arrived on set.
Director An Bin was quite pleased with Lu Xu’s punctuality. He was a chubby middle-aged man with a kind and gentle appearance, yet his films were the kind that exploded from start to finish. By the time a movie ended, audiences were usually left with strong impressions of the explosion sequences and gunfights.
Thanks to this distinctive style, An Bin never worried about lacking projects. His films might not have an exceptionally high ceiling, but they also had a reliable baseline—almost all of them were guaranteed to be profitable.
Black & White had plenty of action scenes, but Lu Xu’s villainous role didn’t involve much physical combat. Instead, he relied on intelligence to control the overall situation.
According to Director An Bin, Ren Ningyi had recommended Lu Xu for the role. The reason he agreed so quickly was that Lu Xu had a face that looked both handsome and intelligent.
Lu Xu: “…”
The director was too honest—too good at speaking the truth.
Well, he wasn’t wrong.
[Setting aside the handsome and intelligent part,] Zheng Xiao said doubtfully, [isn’t your character a deranged, psychotic villain? What’s that got to do with your looks?]
Lu Xu: […If you don’t know how to talk, you don’t have to, thanks.]
He firmly rejected any implication that linked him to a super-crazy lunatic.
An Bin also noticed the suitcase Lu Xu had brought. “You only have one suitcase?”
The director couldn’t help but remind him, “The filming schedule for this role isn’t particularly short.”
He mainly wanted to see if sparks would fly between Lu Xu and Ren Ningyi. If they had good chemistry, the shooting progress would naturally speed up. But if their scenes lacked tension, the pace might end up being slower than Lu Xu expected.
An Bin was a typical commercial film director, but that didn’t mean his standards were low.
…
On the day Lu Xu joined the crew, Ren Ningyi had just finished filming a gunfight scene. The set was filled with lingering smoke, and under the director’s instructions, explosion shots were being filmed one after another, making the scene highly dangerous. Ren Ningyi was no longer young, yet he executed the intense action sequences with meticulous precision, showing no sign of slacking.
Before coming to the set, Lu Xu had already communicated with Ren Ningyi on WeChat. Ren Ningyi had given him some details about the shoot, but they agreed to discuss things further once he arrived on set.
Despite the tight schedule, Lu Xu made sure to read the script several times, carefully shaping his own vision of the character Cui Kaiwen.
As Lu Xu stood by watching the set for a while, Ren Ningyi hurried over, still carrying traces of the shoot—his clothes had white marks on them, the hem of his pants was wrinkled, and though the weather was quite cold, he had draped a thick down jacket over his shoulders.
As soon as he arrived, Ren Ningyi immediately called out to Lu Xu, inviting him to eat. “There’s a lamb soup place nearby that’s amazing. They have lamb soup and lamb spine stew. Let’s go quickly—if we’re late, there won’t be any seats left.”
“You’re not taking me along?” Director An Bin poked his head out and asked with a grin.
“Nope, not today. I’ve been tormented all day.” Ren Ningyi waved his hand dismissively. “Now that we have a newcomer in the crew, I have to take good care of him, don’t I?”
As he pulled Lu Xu along, Ren Ningyi suggested, “Let’s take a photo together. I want to show it to the others.”
He didn’t plan to post it on Weibo. Although he had an account, updating it once a month was already a stretch. He mainly wanted to brag—to show everyone that he had managed to collaborate with Lu Xu first.
Back when Lu Xu won the Contention Award for Best Actor, Ren Ningyi had been one of the nominees. At the time, all four nominees had wanted to work with Lu Xu and had even sent him invitations. Unfortunately, Lu Xu had chosen to shoot Observing the Stars at Night instead, and their collaboration hadn’t materialized.
Now, it was Ren Ningyi who got to work with Lu Xu first.
Not long after Ren Ningyi posted the photo in the group chat, an account with a rose icon sent a message: [Lu Xu has joined the crew?]
Ren Ningyi didn’t reply immediately. He waited a few minutes before coolly responding with a simple: [Mm.]
[What are you so smug about?] An account with a dog avatar sent a “Stop showing off” meme. [I’m just saying, Old Ren, why do you only think about playing the lead when you work with someone? If it were me, I’d definitely give the main role to Xiao Lu.]
Ren Ningyi: [There is no ‘if’.]
[Exactly!] An account with the nickname Clouds Light as Wind chimed in, supporting the dog avatar. [Your heart isn’t sincere.]
[If you’re jealous, just say it.] Ren Ningyi wasn’t mad at all. Instead, he kept flaunting, [Talk to me when you’ve actually worked with him first.]
Even though Lu Xu joining the crew was a stroke of luck, his participation meant that Black & White would gain significantly more attention. Using Lu Xu for promotion would also boost the box office numbers considerably.
For the production team, it was a highly profitable arrangement.
Lu Xu was just too popular—his schedule was notoriously difficult to book. On top of that, he wasn’t drawn to big productions just because they had an A-list cast. He didn’t pick projects based on star power.
After bickering with the others in the chat for a while, Ren Ningyi even generously reassured a few close friends, telling them they’d have their chance to work with Lu Xu someday: [For now, I’ll just shoot with him first. Hehe.]
[Just you wait, I’m coming to visit the set tomorrow!]
[Tch. @Admin, can we kick this guy out?]
Even after being roasted, Ren Ningyi didn’t get upset. In fact, he happily helped himself to another piece of lamb rib.
Just as Ren Ningyi had said, the lamb at this restaurant was indeed delicious—flavorful and well-seasoned. Northern China was still quite cold at this time of year, and a bowl of hot lamb soup warmed the body from the inside out.
Ren Ningyi, being older, didn’t eat much. He looked at Lu Xu in surprise. “I thought you wouldn’t eat this much.”
Lu Xu admitted honestly, “I didn’t use to. But after filming Observing the Stars, my appetite increased a bit.”
Particularly with scenes that required motion capture markers and weighted running, eating more became necessary. With such intense physical activity, he didn’t have to worry about gaining weight on camera.
“For action films like this, if you don’t eat enough, you won’t last. Even though I don’t eat a lot in one sitting, I always have extra meals during filming.”
After finishing their meal, the next day, An Bin and Ren Ningyi introduced Lu Xu to the rest of the cast. Some of them he had already met the day before, but this time, they formally got to know each other.
Interestingly, Black & White had no actors that Lu Xu had previously worked with.
He observed the crew for a while and found that the atmosphere was quite good—there weren’t any troublesome people or unpleasant situations.
Ren Ningyi explained, “There are too many action scenes. The shooting is tough, and the schedule is long.”
Naturally, the most in-demand actors at the moment weren’t willing to take on such a physically demanding project.
On top of that, Black & White offered only an industry-average salary—it wasn’t particularly high. An Bin had shot many films in this genre and knew exactly how to control costs.
The only thing Lu Xu found difficult about joining Black & White was the weather. It was freezing and dry. If he stayed outside too long, his face would go numb from the wind. The outdoor heating facilities didn’t help much, so all he could do was watch in admiration as Ren Ningyi rolled around in wet water for a scene.
Lu Xu was willing to endure hardships for a role, but at the same time, he deeply respected every actor who could do the same.
After finishing the wet-scene shoot, Ren Ningyi was trembling from the cold. However, he didn’t utter a single complaint, nor did he suggest using a stunt double. Perhaps it was a habit carried over from his generation of actors, but Lu Xu deeply admired it.
Ren Ningyi was widely recognized as an industry heavyweight, but Lu Xu knew that getting to this point hadn’t been easy for him. He had undoubtedly endured hardships beyond what most people could imagine.
…
Lu Xu’s first scene on set was relatively simple. It depicted Cui Kaiwen before he became the twisted villain. At this stage in the story, Cui Kaiwen was just an ordinary man—at most, more brooding than the average person.
Of course, most people weren’t this brooding, nor were they as prone to obsessive thinking as he was.
The scene was short—just a fleeting moment in Cui Kaiwen’s memories. Notably, everyone who had ever seen this side of him was already dead. By the time he reappeared, he had become a terrifying, cold-blooded leader.
“Ready!”
Lu Xu pulled a cap low over his face, adding to the air of gloom.
It was a night shoot, intentionally scheduled after dark. The only issue was that if the daytime cold had been unbearable, the nighttime chill was even worse. Dressed in thin costume layers, Lu Xu was freezing, but he had to suppress any signs of it.
In the scene, Cui Kaiwen was locked outside by his parents. The dim streetlights cast a murky glow, and the pavement was still damp from the previous night’s rain. Beside him lay the lifeless body of a small cat, its form still and silent.
Cui Kaiwen’s face remained expressionless, carrying only a sense of detached indifference, as if he had already seen through everything.
His fingers flexed slightly, revealing faint scratches on the back of his hand—marks left by sharp claws.
In the film, this shot would transition quickly, yet it was enough to give the audience a glimpse into the kind of person Cui Kaiwen was.
“Another completely different villain,” Ren Ningyi murmured in admiration. “Director An, do you know? The role he won his last award for was also a villain.”
An Bin nodded.
Winning an award for playing a villain was an even greater challenge.
In Ren Ningyi’s view, compared to Luo Ying, Cui Kaiwen was a crueler and more extroverted character. His cruelty was damp and suffocating, like something that clung to a person and made them inexplicably uncomfortable.
At that moment, Lu Xu’s dark eyes peeked out from under his hood, making his pupils look exceptionally large—empty and unfathomably deep.
The slight smirk at the corner of his lips only made him more terrifying.
This scene had long been written in the script—the dark night, the streetlamp, and the cat’s corpse were all carefully arranged props. Yet, Lu Xu seemed to fit into this setting so seamlessly that it felt as if he had been born into such darkness.
“Cut! That’s a wrap!”
An Bin waved his hand, signaling the end of the scene. To be honest, watching the playback on the monitor had been a little unnerving—Lu Xu had completely transformed into someone else the moment he got into character.
But then…
Just as An Bin called the scene, the same Lu Xu, who had just been portraying a chilling villain with complete dedication, suddenly shivered on the spot, his voice trembling as he yelled:
“I’m freezing to death! Ahhhhh!”
His sudden outburst shattered the eerie silence of the night, snapping everyone out of the atmosphere.
Pulling his down jacket tightly around himself, Lu Xu squatted down to check on the cat. “You okay?”
This scene subtly hinted that Cui Kaiwen had str*ngled a cat with his own hands. However, the cat “actor” used in the shoot was very much alive—it was actually the makeup artist’s beloved pet. To convince it to lie still for longer, the makeup artist worked tirelessly, while Lu Xu, An Bin, and Ren Ningyi each chipped in to buy extra cat treats and canned food, even paying the feline a full day’s wage.
The wage was strictly earmarked for cat-related purchases only.
The cat, of course, was doing just fine, and Director An Bin was equally pleased. Since the scene was completed in a single take without any issues, everyone could head home earlier than expected.
As the crew busied themselves packing up props, Lu Xu played with the makeup artist’s cat for a while. It was then that he made a discovery—probably because of his nickname “Lu Puppy” and the way his fans often portrayed him as a dog, he seemed to have a natural inability to win over cats.
The makeup artist’s cat was actually very well-behaved. The fact that it had stayed still throughout the entire scene proved as much. It even responded when the director played with it and was quite affectionate with Ren Ningyi. But with Lu Xu? The moment he reached out in a friendly gesture, the cat would immediately extend its claws and hiss at him.
Zheng Xiao summed it up perfectly: [A failure as a human, but too successful as a dog.]
Lu Xu: […Has Shao Yao’s mouth transferred to you?]
Shao Yao could go an entire day without speaking, whereas Zheng Xiao could talk endlessly.
That said… during his time on set, Lu Xu never once felt bored—Zheng Xiao’s constant chatter saw to that.
Unwilling to accept defeat, Lu Xu decided to test his luck again the next day—with another cat actor from the set.
…This cat was even more standoffish than the last one. Aside from baring its teeth at Lu Xu, its most common posture was turning its backside toward him.
Nine times out of ten, this was the case.
Unforgivable!!
In contrast, dogs were much friendlier—especially large dogs. When they saw Lu Xu, they even wanted to pounce on him in excitement.
With that, Lu Xu felt at peace again.
Originally, the director had planned to have a cat accompany the villain to emphasize his cold and sinister aura. However, after witnessing this unfortunate dynamic, he had no choice but to abandon the idea.
