Chapter 161.1: A Private Screening for One
To create a more immersive experience, Storm was specially produced with 3D effects.
Shen Xiu put on the 3D glasses provided by the theater, which were placed beside the seat, and focused his gaze on the screen in front of him.
Before the movie began, the theater had turned off its warm yellow lighting, plunging the space into darkness to help viewers adjust their glasses and enjoy a better viewing experience.
This type of large-scale “group activity”—which required no interaction with strangers, didn’t demand early arrival, and wouldn’t subject him to rudeness from others—was exactly the kind Shen Xiu had plenty of experience timing perfectly.
This meant that by the time Shen Xiu entered the theater and took his seat, 90% of the early arrivals had already put on their 3D glasses, their eyes fixed on the large screen ahead. The surrounding darkness left little room for anyone to notice his arrival.
…
Two and a half hours later, the first screening of Storm ended.
Lu Wen’s script was well-written. Though it followed a typical commercial film storyline, his storytelling skills were strong.
With chief director Xuan Yushu’s consistent display of technical flair, grand and breathtaking visuals, and aesthetic beauty, the film was elevated even further.
Add to that the entire Galaxy crew, each personally trained by Xuan Yushu and inspired by Shen Xiu’s leadership—their performances were all above average, with no acting that pulled the audience out of the story.
The 3D effects were also excellently done.
All in all, with all these buffs stacked together, this was a very successful commercial film.
Even though it was a commercial film, it had its own unique charm.
Whether it was the heart-stopping explosions and life-or-death chase across the vast Amara Desert, or the chaos aboard the luxury cruise ship on the Mangila Sea—bullets flying, smoke rising, elegantly dressed passengers screaming and fleeing from death, the slow sinking of the ship after a barrage of bombings—Storm delivered a visual and emotional spectacle.
Or the opulence and decadence that seeped through the elegance of every gesture and movement during lavish banquets, where everyone was impeccably dressed and carried themselves with grace.
Even the tense and thrilling manhunt in the Kaina Tropical Rainforest…
Every scene showed the audience that this was a story brimming with danger.
With scenes drenched in extreme bloodshed and violence, the film’s wild intensity and madness created a visceral experience—one that made viewers outside the screen unconsciously tense up, breathe quicker, and feel their adrenaline surge.
It was dangerous—yet carried a fatal allure that made people sink into it without realizing. One viewing wasn’t enough; it left them craving more.
Beyond that, when the nine members of The Galaxy shared scenes with seasoned veteran actors, they may not have outshone the old masters, but they held their own—capable of meeting the level of the performance.
Setting aside the main cast and the familiar veteran actors, even the background actors’ lines, expressions, and body language were spot on—so flawless that it felt like they truly lived in that extravagant parallel world. There was not a single jarring moment to pull the viewer out of the story.
And the standout performance in the film came from Shen Xiu, who played the antagonist Han Fei.
As a newcomer to film, Shen Xiu was acting in his very first movie, yet when sharing the screen with renowned veteran actors, he showed no nervousness. In the finished film, viewers could clearly sense that Shen Xiu’s portrayal of Han Fei perfectly matched the character’s setting in Storm: wherever he was, Han Fei was always the one in control.
Even during his first confrontation with Zhou Yan—played by Shang Yu—after Zhou Yan survived a near-death escape, when Han Fei stood below and Zhou Yan looked down from above, Han Fei slightly lifted his gaze. The smile slowly faded from his lips. Even in that moment—facing the one person who had escaped his grasp, the first to break free from his control—Han Fei’s aura still overpowered Zhou Yan.
Even at the end of the film, when Han Fei lay in the pouring rain, covered in blood, he still looked at Zhou Yan with that same arrogant, ant-like gaze—as if watching something beneath him.
Even in death, Han Fei’s aura never diminished.
Through Shen Xiu’s portrayal, Han Fei thrived in his familiar world of violence. He was cold, powerful, moody, and ruthlessly efficient—killing without blinking, acting on impulse, and eliminating anyone with equal ease at the slightest provocation.
In the unfamiliar and detestable setting of the upper-class elite’s grand banquets, Han Fei appeared in a sharp suit, well-groomed, a string of Buddhist prayer beads wrapped around his wrist. Yet every time he gave one of those fake, skin-deep smiles, someone—or a group of people—would die. With those prayer beads suppressing his murderous aura, Han Fei disguised himself in elegance while turning the high society he loathed into chaos and carnage. He stained those luxurious feasts, million-dollar decorations, and priceless carpets with a shadow of blood—by his own hand.
He effortlessly became the psychological nightmare of every character in Storm.
The immersive experience was so strong that, during the viewing, it felt like the audience had been transported into the same extravagant, sinister, and twisted world told in the film—a world soaked in blood, violence, and dazzling indulgence.
As the film ended, the theater lights came back on.
With Lu Wen intentionally overlapping Storm’s locations with real-world settings, it was easy for the audience to question whether the world of Storm truly existed—or whether it belonged to some parallel dimension.
Some viewers were so overwhelmed by the bloody, intense, yet visually opulent world—so full of thrill and the scent of money—that they remained seated, taking a moment to catch their breath.
And while they were still recovering, Shen Xiu had already taken off his 3D glasses and placed them back by his seat. He reached up to adjust the hood of his sweatshirt, pulled it down lower over his face, then stood up with his head slightly bowed—and quickly left the theater.
The entrance and exit of this theater were in the same area, but separated by a partition to prevent people from sneaking in without a ticket through the exit.
As soon as Storm ended, an exit staff member noticed that only one person was walking out from the screening room in their direction and was momentarily stunned.
They thought, Wow, this person really didn’t get “trapped” by the film at all—left that fast, so cold and unfeeling.
As the figure drew closer, the staff noticed the person’s impressive height and a strangely familiar aura. Their gaze was involuntarily drawn in, curious but wary, watching out of the corner of their eye while pretending to stay focused on work.
As the figure approached, the staff member quickly took out a palm-sized round mirror and placed it on the desk.
Pretending to look at the desk, they timidly used the mirror to sneak a peek at the guy with the unmistakable attitude, whose face was hidden beneath a black mask and hoodie—but who gave off a natural air of don’t-mess-with-me.
As the man got closer and closer, the staff member stared into the mirror—and their pupils practically quaked. They instinctively raised a hand to cover their mouth in shock.
Shen Xiu, walking out: “……”
Are they… looking at me through the mirror?
Sure enough, he had left too quickly. And with the corridor still dimly lit and no one else around, his solo exit made him unusually noticeable.
Realizing that his speed had made him the center of attention, Shen Xiu subconsciously picked up his pace, just wanting to escape the awkward scene as fast as possible.
He kept his eyes down on the floor and swiftly exited through the doors.
The staff member watched Shen Xiu’s retreating figure, swallowing hard. Only after he had walked far enough away did they finally dare to grab their phone. With trembling fingers, they raised it and secretly snapped a photo of Shen Xiu’s back.
Looking at the photo in their gallery—just a single shot of that tall man’s back, radiating a chill—the staff member finally dared to say aloud what they hadn’t had the courage to say to Shen Xiu’s face just moments ago: “Xiu-baby!”
They originally wanted to post it online, but remembering how packed the theater was right now, they realized that sharing it at this moment might cause trouble for Shen Xiu.
So they forcibly calmed their excitement, tucked away their phone, and took deep breaths—trying to settle their wildly pounding heart, which felt like it was about to leap out of their chest from having seen Shen Xiu up close.
Meanwhile, back inside the theater—
The next showing was scheduled to begin in half an hour, and the staff, worried about people lingering too long, came in to remind the still-seated audience to exit.
As the viewers began to recover and stand up, they couldn’t help but excitedly chatter with the friends they’d come with.
“Ahhhh when is it going online?! The visuals were stunning, the story was thrilling—I need to save it and watch it a hundred times! The decadence, the luxury, the adrenaline—it’s like a world I couldn’t even dream of!”
“Just imagine—being surrounded by danger, facing gunfire side by side with all kinds of gorgeous men, each with their own vibe… oh god, just imagining it is making my brain overheat like a melting CPU!”
“Okay but seriously… even though Han Fei was dangerous, I don’t know how to put it—Xiu-baby really brought him to life. So charismatic. I finally understand what it means to be ‘dangerous and irresistible.’ I’d fall willingly, no hesitation!”
“I honestly feel like Yan Lin and Ba Ze dying at Han Fei’s hands was almost a blessing—how can someone be so covered in blood and still that elegant and magnetic?!”
“Hahaha I finally get why Xiu-baby said in that interview that if you see Han Fei, you should run and then call the police. Like, if you blindly ran toward him and died by his hand—you’d still feel like it was worth it in this lifetime!”
“No help for it—that’s Han Fei we’re talking about! Even knowing it’s all fiction, I’m totally double-standard about it. My morals go wherever Brother Han’s face leads them. But in real life, let’s do what Xiu-baby says: call the police and let the officers deal with him!”
“Guess what? I snatched tickets for tomorrow too~”
“Heh, you think you’re the only one? I grabbed some too! I’m going to rewatch this movie a million times—it hits every single one of my weak spots!”
…
The crowd chattered excitedly as they walked out, faces glowing with enthusiasm. At the peak of their excitement, even complete strangers nearby joined in to praise Storm together.
Those who were more introverted and socially anxious, though too shy to speak up, nodded along silently in full agreement.
The exit staff member: “!”
Heh, bet you didn’t know—Xiu-baby might have watched this very same screening with some of you, in the same theater room!
Only… you didn’t realize it. And I’m the only one who knows!
Hearing all the chatter, the staff member couldn’t help but recall seeing Shen Xiu earlier, feeling a secret thrill—like holding onto a special moment no one else knew about.
She silently prayed for her shift to end soon. As soon as she got off work, she was going to start a livestream and share this unforgettable story—one that would fuel her motivation every time she thought about it tonight!
Hmm