Chapter 117.2: Filming Immortal Path
From behind the camera, the shot was stunning: Li Yang suspended above the dark pool, ethereal and dreamlike. It was so visually powerful that Xuan Ji couldn’t bear to interrupt. He hoped to give Fang Chengxing just a few more seconds — he could always cut the silence in editing.
But several more seconds passed.
And Fang Chengxing still didn’t move.
Finally, Xuan Ji had no choice but to grab the megaphone. “Cut!”
As soon as the scene stopped, Xuan Ji couldn’t hide his confusion. “Chengxing, what happened? Are you feeling unwell?”
Everything had been going so smoothly up until now. Why the sudden freeze-up? And during what was arguably the most beautiful shot they’d captured so far? Xuan Ji was definitely not happy.
When Fang Chengxing heard the word “Cut,” his whole body relaxed. He reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead and muttered, “It’s too hot… I just need a moment.”
Xuan Ji looked toward Shen Xiu, who was still standing waist-deep in the frigid lake. It might be summer, but soaking in cold water while the actor on shore took a break — how was that fair?
The crew, apparently thinking the same thing, cast quick glances between Shen Xiu in the water and Fang Chengxing on the shore.
Was the real drama finally about to begin? The showdown they’d all been waiting for?!
“You—” Xuan Ji began.
Fang Chengxing, sensing the sudden silence around him, finally processed what he’d just said. The words echoed back in his mind with horrifying clarity.
If he were the sole male lead in Immortal Path and Shen Xiu wasn’t involved — especially not as the investor-favored addition — then sure, his complaint might’ve slid.
But that was not the reality.
And of all people he had to keep waiting… it just had to be Shen Xiu.
Fang Chengxing sucked in a sharp breath, going pale as he looked toward Shen Xiu in the water.
Seeing Fang Chengxing’s blood-drained expression, Shen Xiu thought he had gone too far in character — that he’d genuinely frightened him while playing Li Yang — and offered a low, apologetic:
“Take a break.”
Hearing Shen Xiu’s cool voice, seeing his familiar, emotionless gaze —
The whole crew: “……”
Fang Chengxing: “……”
If that wasn’t a veiled threat, they’d livestream themselves washing their hair upside-down tonight!
Fang Chengxing, rattled for the second time in five minutes, quickly blurted out:
“No no no! I don’t need a break! I’m totally fine — really! I can act right now!”
Liang Cheng: “……”
She had a feeling that after this production wrapped, Fang Chengxing would be cured of many bad habits — like coasting through scenes or thinking “good enough” was actually good enough.
Shen Xiu looked at him, worried. “You’re sure?”
Fang Chengxing: “!”
The threats have started again, haven’t they?!
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life!”
Shen Xiu: “…As long as you’re okay.”
So Fang Chengxing turned out to be someone who loved his work this much?!
Hearing Shen Xiu’s words, Fang Chengxing let out a quiet breath of relief. At the same time, he was inwardly wailing:
Wuwuwu… Shen Xiu’s warning before filming really wasn’t for nothing!
Determined to suppress his fear, Fang Chengxing focused hard on silently reciting his lines over and over in his head.
Since the previous shot was a one-take success, Director Xuan Ji would pick things up from Fang Chengxing’s dialogue this time.
He no longer had to face Li Yang’s terrifying gaze and expressions directly — all he needed to do was keep his head down and deliver his lines in a trembling, fearful voice.
“Master… that wicked flood dragon must be punished. Please, I beg you…”
Upon hearing the quiver in Gong Zihen’s voice as he pleaded, Li Yang raised his eyebrows slightly. His gaze turned even more disdainful as his lips parted, and he spat out two light, contemptuous words:
“Pathetic.”
Fang Chengxing: “……”
He suddenly had the strong feeling that Shen Xiu was using Li Yang’s mouth to roast him personally.
“Master, y-you’re right to punish—ahh—”
Before Gong Zihen could finish, Li Yang casually raised a hand. An ice blade formed from condensed water slashed ruthlessly across the air, severing the boy’s right hand in an instant.
As he cried out in pain, a cold, cutting voice drifted past his ear:
“That is punishment.”
Clutching his bleeding, pain-racked wrist, Fang Chengxing didn’t dare say a word. He lowered his head obediently, still kneeling, and whispered:
“You were right to do so.”
Then Shen Xiu turned away, slipping back into the water with the elegance of a divine serpent gliding through the depths.
The moment the water stilled, Director Xuan Ji’s voice rang out:
“Cut!”
As soon as filming ended, Shen Xiu, who had avoided surfacing too roughly so as not to damage the fragile props on his body, carefully emerged from the water.
The special effects makeup was time-consuming and cumbersome — he had to wear it the entire day. Damaging it would delay the shoot even further.
With the lake scene wrapped, Shen Xiu began walking toward the same spot on shore where he had entered the water earlier.
Unable to contain his excitement, Xuan Ji strode toward Shen Xiu, calling out as Shen Xiu approached the shore:
“That was incredible! Absolutely incredible!”
“My dad was right — as expected of you, Shen Xiu!”
“This is the best footage we’ve captured since the shoot began. Only you could’ve pulled this off!”
…
Watching Xuan Ji chatter endlessly, Shen Xiu had a sudden urge to turn his head and wade ashore from the opposite side.
But he only dared to entertain the thought—he didn’t have the courage to actually do something so out of line.
The crew, hearing Director Xuan’s praise, silently gave him a thumbs-up in their hearts.
From the beginning until now, whether it was Shen Xiu’s lofty, arrogant demeanor that seemed to regard everything with disdain, or his perfectly executed, cold and calculating gaze laced with pride—
Every expression radiated an aura of noble ruthlessness, a wild and domineering presence cloaked in elegance and reckless abandon.
No matter how Fang Chengxing performed, Shen Xiu’s portrayal of Li Yang alone convinced the crew that Immortal Path was bound to make waves.
There weren’t many people around Fang Chengxing. He himself knew that his earlier performance had been poor. If he hadn’t been genuinely terrified of Shen Xiu’s Li Yang, he wouldn’t have even managed to act afraid.
As the crew helped clean the fake blood and prop restraints from Fang Chengxing’s hands in preparation for the next scene, Liang Cheng didn’t dare approach Shen Xiu, so she went over to Fang Chengxing instead.
“You did really well showing that instinctive fear of Li Yang just now. Don’t stress too much—you’ve got this. Maybe your acting skills aren’t as terrible as you thought.”
Liang Cheng meant it sincerely. After a week of acting alongside Fang Chengxing, that was the best performance she had seen from him so far.
Fang Chengxing: “……”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her that his fear just now wasn’t acting—it was real. In normal circumstances, he simply couldn’t keep up with Shen Xiu. The moment Shen Xiu looked at him, fear kicked in instinctively.
Fortunately, fear was exactly what the scene required. A blessing in disguise—under Shen Xiu’s gaze, he truly believed he had become Gong Zihen: the nervous, trembling disciple cowed before his master.
Thinking about it, wasn’t this, in another sense, also Shen Xiu helping to elevate the acting around him?
The teacher was right—an excellent actor can truly bring out the best in their scene partners.
Fang Chengxing said quietly, “Although Shen Xiu says his acting is ‘poisonous,’ it seems his kind of poisonous is different from mine.”
Liang Cheng thought: …Well, maybe there’s hope after all.
Meanwhile, Shen Xiu had gotten ashore, and the crew instinctively gathered around him.
“Tough work, tough work.”
“Director Xuan was right—you acted incredibly well!”
…
Hearing all the praise and people telling him he worked hard, Shen Xiu furrowed his brow in confusion and replied, “I was paid a huge amount for this. Isn’t that enough?”
“Besides, this is very easy.”
Delivering packages or food is much harder than this. Shen Xiu couldn’t understand where everyone’s ‘hard work’ complaints were coming from.
His calm voice and the glance sweeping over the crew instantly froze them in place.
They were used to treating other actors like this. For skilled actors, fake flattery was annoying. But for the popular stars who needed pampering, this kind of praise was a must.
And now the popular actors were all the rage—so flattering words were their norm.
They hadn’t expected Shen Xiu to dislike hearing them. Well, as a ‘King of Competence,’ how could he tolerate anyone insulting him with such empty words?
After Shen Xiu spoke, the crew fell silent again.
See? He shouldn’t have said anything!
Just as Shen Xiu’s embarrassed foot twitched to shift nervously, Xuan Ji’s voice saved him:
“Shen Xiu, the next scene is with Fang Chengxing. Come watch with me and help me strategize.”
Shen Xiu wasn’t good at refusing, so he nodded: “…Okay.”
The next scene was Fang Chengxing’s, with Shen Xiu’s part coming right after. Filming started quickly. At Xuan Ji’s request, the two of them watched Fang Chengxing’s performance together on the monitor.
Fang Chengxing had thought he could finally catch a breather, but to his surprise, Shen Xiu didn’t come over to act with him—he went to the director’s side instead, looking withdrawn.
Three minutes later, Shen Xiu stared at Fang Chengxing on the screen and couldn’t hold back asking, “Has he always acted like this before?”
Just moments ago when performing with him, aside from a single slip of forgetting lines at the start, Fang Chengxing had acted quite well.
But now, what Shen Xiu saw was a superficial youthful energy, a forced bright smile. The audience’s eyes weren’t blind—they could tell it was a performance where he was just trying very hard.
Having read the original script, Shen Xiu naturally knew what Fang Chengxing’s character should be like.
From Fang Chengxing’s performance just now, there was nothing of the Li Yang-tormented yet complex Gong Zihen from Immortal Path—a protagonist who, though abused mercilessly by his master Li Yang from a young age, harbored a natural mix of hatred and anger, yet still clung to fragile hopes and fantasies of occasional kindness from his master.
There was no sign of Gong Zihen’s cruel ruthlessness tempered with a streak of innocent loyalty cultivated under Li Yang’s harsh tutelage.
Xuan Ji said, “Yeah? Is there something wrong?”
Since it wasn’t his own scene, Shen Xiu didn’t want to say too much—he feared causing awkward silence—so he replied vaguely, “Nothing.”
…
At 8 p.m., Shen Xiu’s day of filming wrapped.
Back at home, the more Xuan Ji thought about Shen Xiu’s words and expression earlier, the more unsettled he felt. So, without hesitation, he shamelessly sought out Xuan Yushu.
“Dad, can you take a look? I feel like Shen Xiu’s been acting strange since watching Fang Chengxing’s performance today. But Shen Xiu was frowning, and I didn’t dare ask him much.”
“All right,” Xuan Yushu didn’t refuse.
Jiang Jinya had once mentioned that Shen Xiu aspired to become a director, and that acting was likely his way of gaining on-set experience for that goal. He was curious to see how Shen Xiu—Jiang Jinya’s proudly praised protégé—would perform in his first acting role.
Two hours later, after watching several of Xuan Ji’s recorded scenes, Xuan Yushu’s brows were furrowed so tightly they looked like they could crush a fly.
“Dad, don’t just sit there frowning without saying anything! Shen Xiu I can understand—but if you’re doing this too, I’m really starting to panic!”
Xuan Yushu said flatly, “At the pace you’re going, Immortal Path might end up half a success.”
Hearing that, Xuan Ji let out a relieved sigh, pressing a hand to his chest. Plenty of first-time directors didn’t even manage a flicker of success—many crashed without a ripple.
If he could get half a success, wasn’t that already halfway to genius?
“That scared me! I’m not greedy—just getting half a splash would be…”
Before he could finish, Xuan Yushu cut him off: “Half a flop. And the half that flops will get dragged through the mud.”
“The successful half will be Shen Xiu. Based on the script you showed me, the series has 24 episodes in total. Shen Xiu only appears in the first six. After those six episodes air, no one’s going to stick around. The only ones who’ll gain recognition from Immortal Path are Shen Xiu and Liang Cheng’s character, Gu Yueying.”
“As for Fang Chengxing, who plays the lead role of Gong Zihen—currently in his younger phase—his performance is overly deliberate. There’s none of the…”
Xuan Yushu looked him straight in the eyes and said quietly, “None of that slightly scheming but still mostly naive ‘inexperienced college grad’ vibe you were going for. From what I’ve seen in the footage, all I see is a slick, calculated pretense at youthful innocence.”
“But isn’t Fang Chengxing’s performance pretty lively and cheerful—like a young guy should be? Why do you and Shen Xiu both think there’s a problem?”
“Are you saying everything filmed so far has to be reshot?”
Xuan Yushu replied, “Up to you. If you’re just treating this as a game, then no need to reshoot. But remember—this project was funded thanks to Shen Xiu. If you try to bluff your way through it, no investor will ever trust you again.”
Xuan Ji fell silent. “…Then what am I supposed to do? This is the extent of my judgment—even if I reshoot, it won’t make a difference.”
Xuan Yushu offered a solution: “Tomorrow’s Sunday. You could ask Shen Xiu to coach Fang Chengxing a bit.”
