Chapter 128.1: Voting for the Three Trailers of “Immortal Path”
“You know how to do this too?”
Xuan Ji was shocked. “Is there anything you don’t know how to do?!”
Shen Xiu explained, “Just a little.”
Their class was originally a sub-group of the Chinese Department, specifically focused on film and television culture. Although the coursework wasn’t too in-depth, they touched on a bit of everything—Chinese studies, film editing, and so on.
Most of the instructors were associate professors or professors who had worked as advisors, directors, or screenwriters in major film and TV crews. Some even had their own media studios, with very rich experience and a serious, detail-oriented approach to teaching.
So long as someone studied seriously in that class, there was nothing they couldn’t pick up.
Xuan Ji: “……”
Judging by Shen Xiu’s calm demeanor, this definitely wasn’t just “a little.”
He’d bet fifty cents—it was more like “a lot.”
“Ahem…” Realizing that he himself had never studied editing properly—only learned a bit from editors on set while tagging along with his dad—Xuan Ji gave an awkward cough and said sheepishly, “Alright, thanks for your help.”
Compared to the editors on set, everyone said he was pretty skilled, and he thought so too.
But whenever Shen Xiu got involved, Xuan Ji felt like a balloon being pricked by a needle—completely deflated.
After getting Xuan Ji’s approval, Shen Xiu turned to the lead editor wearing a staff badge nearby.
“Hello, Team Leader Liu.”
The head of the editing team didn’t expect Shen Xiu to know who he was. When he heard himself called out, he froze for a moment. Once he came to, he nervously replied, “Hello, hello.”
After the greeting, Team Leader Liu raised a hand to wipe the sudden sweat that had formed on his forehead.
He was worried that Shen Xiu was calling him out to pick a fight.
Even Director Xuan Ji had been bluntly and mercilessly mocked by Shen Xiu—so in Shen Xiu’s eyes, a mere editing team leader like himself probably didn’t even count.
“May I ask, what kind of content needs to be included in the trailer?”
Shen Xiu didn’t know the standard editing workflow. He was used to first writing out the content to be edited based on the script’s logic, and then editing according to that—much easier that way.
Last night, after watching Xuan Ji’s edit, he was completely baffled.
Team Leader Liu: “……”
That’s all he wanted to ask? Scared me half to death!
Now back in his professional comfort zone, Team Leader Liu relaxed a bit. He walked over to his workstation, leaned forward, and clicked open one of the many screens on the desktop with the mouse.
He said to Shen Xiu, “This is the script for the trailer.”
Trailers aren’t meant to be too long, so the storyboard script wasn’t long either.
Shen Xiu glanced at it—only one page on the computer.
“Thank you.”
He noticed the nameplate on the workstation and asked Team Leader Liu, “Would it be alright if I borrowed your station for a bit?”
Team Leader Liu: “Of course!”
“Thanks,” Shen Xiu said again before sitting down.
“Hahaha, no problem at all!” Team Leader Liu was delighted by Shen Xiu’s politeness, his initial nerves about being singled out now gone.
As soon as Shen Xiu sat down, a group of people quietly followed behind Xuan Ji and, staying just behind him, formed a loose circle around Shen Xiu.
Noticing all the gazes behind him, Shen Xiu: “……”
Lacking the nerve to ask them to leave, Shen Xiu could only pretend not to notice, turning his full attention to the small computer screen, focusing on memorizing the words.
Two minutes later, Shen Xiu could recite the trailer’s storyboard script backward and forward. One hand on the mouse, the other on the keyboard—he began editing…
To witness the legendary, seemingly all-capable Shen Xiu edit a trailer with their own eyes, everyone in the crowd watched both him and the screen with intense focus.
Xuan Ji muttered in confusion, “It’s been ten minutes, and he hasn’t looked at the script even once? Isn’t he afraid of making a mistake?”
He remembered that when he edited, he had to keep checking the script as he went.
“No filters at all?”
“Wouldn’t a slow-motion effect work better here? It would let the audience more clearly feel the emotional tension between them.”
“Two people locking eyes under the moonlight—wouldn’t adding some music make the atmosphere stronger?”
“How can Li Yang’s entrance not have a powerful background track? I just don’t get it!”
…
Team Leader Liu: “……”
He felt like he owed Shen Xiu an apology for ever calling him sharp-tongued. If he didn’t tape Xuan Ji’s mouth shut after all that rambling, then Shen Xiu’s patience was saintly.
And it wasn’t just Team Leader Liu—everyone else in the room thought the same.
Director Xuan just kept muttering nonstop, but Shen Xiu wasn’t affected in the slightest.
No wonder people called him a Boss—his focus was truly next level.
To avoid distraction, Shen Xiu had trained himself to automatically block out all surrounding sounds once he started editing.
As a result, he had no idea what anyone behind him had been saying while he worked.
—
Thirty minutes later, Shen Xiu exported and saved the finished trailer, then stopped and stood up.
“I’ve fin—” Shen Xiu began to speak as he turned around, but the words caught in his throat for a moment when he saw a crowd of people standing right behind him.
To ease the sudden jolt of surprise, he focused his gaze on the most familiar face—Xuan Ji—before finally managing to speak: “It’s done.”
To the crowd, it looked like Shen Xiu stood up, turned around, said half a word, then intentionally paused, swept his cold gaze over to Xuan Ji, stared at him meaningfully for two full seconds, and then said the words “It’s done” in a deliberately chilly tone.
It was clearly a jab at Xuan Ji.
Shen Xiu probably felt the same as the rest of them—completely speechless at Xuan Ji’s overly self-assured commentary while he was editing.
Once his nerves had settled, Shen Xiu finally worked up the courage to look at Team Leader Liu.
“I saw some trailer edits you did saved on the desktop. Would it be alright if I took a look?”
Ever since watching the trailer Xuan Ji had edited that made it to the trending topics last night, Shen Xiu still couldn’t understand why the editing job—normally handled by the editing team—had been taken over by the director.
Could it be that Xuan Ji’s editing skills were better than the editing team leader’s?
Shen Xiu wasn’t convinced. Team Leader Liu was older than both him and Xuan Ji, had worked in the industry longer, and clearly had more editing experience than either of them.
Curious, Shen Xiu couldn’t help but ask after seeing Team Leader Liu’s version of the trailer saved on the desktop, thick-skinned enough to speak up.
“It’s totally fine if you’d rather not.”
Team Leader Liu: “Of course I don’t mind!”
He had thought all his hard work would end up buried and unseen.
Xuan Ji muttered, “You two edit pretty much the same—too stiff. The only difference is in the footage you chose. Will audiences really like it?”
“Modern trailers are all done the way I did mine. I honestly don’t get it—mine’s not that different from everyone else’s, so why am I the one getting roasted the most?”
Team Leader Liu: “……”
Even if Team Leader Liu and the whole editing team knew that what Xuan Ji said was technically true… their production crew wasn’t like other crews.
They had Shen Xiu—whose presence alone had raised netizens’ expectations for Immortal Path from the very beginning—and on top of that, he’d brought in a wealthy investor: K Corp.
With K Corp backing them, Immortal Path didn’t have to worry about budget. They brought in a host of veteran actors and top-tier consultants, turning what was originally a web series into an ultra S+ production.
And to top it off, the teaser trailer released when Shen Xiu wrapped filming had skyrocketed everyone’s expectations for The Immortal Path even further.
With expectations set so high, it was no wonder netizens—who had waited so long—lashed out when they saw a trailer full of those same old “death filters” typical of every generic costume romance drama.
Audiences may have consumed a lot of subpar content, but that didn’t mean they didn’t want something good.
Faced with Xuan Ji’s remarks, Team Leader Liu—head of the editing team—remained silent. Naturally, the other editors followed suit.
Even Assistant Director Zhao Heng said nothing. A strange, heavy silence settled over the room.
Shen Xiu: “……”
Apparently, Xuan Ji was just as skilled at creating awkward silences as he was.
Shen Xiu had been in this kind of situation before. Having once stood in the rain, he quietly held out an umbrella for someone else—figuratively speaking—and broke the tension.
“Team Leader Liu, should we watch yours first or mine?”
Team Leader Liu replied, “Yours, of course.”
Shen Xiu nodded. “Alright.”
Then Team Leader Liu suddenly added, “There are twelve of us here in total. As the trailer editors, you, Director Xuan, and I will abstain. The remaining nine people will vote anonymously on which trailer to release today. How about it?”
The current trailer format had been decided collectively, but ever since Xuan Ji pulled rank and made all the decisions himself, the entire Immortal Path crew had gotten dragged online by angry fans.
It was impossible for Team Leader Liu not to harbor a little resentment over that.
Still, he didn’t dare say it outright—just took the chance to be a bit passive-aggressive.
Xuan Ji nodded, “Sure!”
Shen Xiu: “…Alright.”
To be confident enough to challenge a room full of experienced editors—pros who had been in the industry for years—Xuan Ji was undeniably bold.
Then Shen Xiu suddenly remembered: he was about to watch a trailer he edited, featuring scenes he acted in, alongside everyone else. The thought made him feel incredibly awkward.
So after replying with a quiet “alright,” and seeing everyone’s attention shift to the screen, he silently moved to the back of the room—hoping to shrink his presence and spare himself the embarrassment.
Shen Xiu’s trailer was played first. Though it was only a minute and a half long, the moment his own scenes came up, Shen Xiu felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment so intense his scalp tingled. He didn’t dare look directly at the screen.
He was afraid everyone would think he’d made himself look too good—too self-indulgent.
Next was Team Leader Liu’s version.
Although it also featured some of his scenes, since he hadn’t edited it himself, Shen Xiu could pretend it had nothing to do with him and watched it seriously.
After watching Team Leader Liu’s version, Shen Xiu quietly cast an imaginary vote for him in his heart.
The third and final version was Xuan Ji’s.
Everyone in the room had already been subjected to Xuan Ji’s version multiple times before. But even so, this extra viewing still made their eyes burn—like salt poured directly into a wound.
Same one and a half minutes, but while both Shen Xiu’s and Team Leader Liu’s trailers sparked varying levels of excitement and anticipation…
Xuan Ji’s version made them feel like every second was pure torture—a painful countdown where each second lasted a year.
Ahem.
As the assistant director, Zhao Heng didn’t want the hard work of the entire team to be derailed by one person—Xuan Ji.
So far, it was just the trailer being affected. But if they didn’t put a stop to it now, how long until the main show was ruined too?
Clearing his throat, Zhao Heng pulled out the paper and pens he’d already asked a staff member to prepare earlier.
“One sheet and one pen per person—everyone vote anonymously. Rank the trailers in order of preference: 1, 2, or 3. Pick the one you like best.”
Worried that people might still hesitate out of fear of offending Xuan Ji, Zhao Heng gave Shen Xiu a meaningful glance as he passed out the materials, subtly signaling the others.
Everyone here had worked on countless productions—they were all shrewd and savvy.
If they hadn’t been, they wouldn’t have knowingly tolerated Xuan Ji just because he was the son of Xuan Yushu. They’d been nodding along to everything he said, despite how off-base he was.
Naturally, it was the same at this moment—since Shen Xiu clearly outshined Xuan Ji, no one would continue to play blind in front of Shen Xiu when he was obviously more competent.
“Alrighty.”
“Got it.”
“Tsk, this is too hard to choose!”
“Ah, yeah yeah yeah, hahaha…”
