Chapter 114: Suddenly Looking Back, There He Stood Amidst the Dimly Lit Corner—It Was None Other Than Xin Qiji! (Extended Chapter)
The fourth exposé from "Black Material Jun" arrived right on schedule.
However, this time it was different. There was no highly anticipated video that the fans had been waiting for; there was only a single, breathtaking image.
A hero on horseback was captured mid-leap over a burning barricade, his silhouette barely discernible amidst the flames.
Once this image was posted, the comments section of Black Material Jun’s page erupted.
[Comments:
I waited all these days, and this is all we get for this installment?
Who is this? Can you be a bit more specific?
Wait… leaping on horseback, riding a horse… could it be Su Mu?
Holy cow! Su Mu? Is this really Su Mu? He jumped a fire barricade on horseback?
I knew it! Think about it, everyone. Black Material Jun wouldn't post a random, meaningless image for no reason, so there must be a deeper meaning. This is definitely Su Mu!
My god~! If this is Su Mu, then I absolutely have to watch this movie!
Incredible! Su Mu is just too legendary!]
The comment section exploded. It climbed the trending charts once again, and immediately, a new topic of debate formed: Was this god-like warhorse leap truly performed by Su Mu? Or was it even a still from the film "Xin Qiji"?
Various discussions and analyses began to surface.
[A major film critic: I believe this is a clip from the film, but it might not be Su Mu. This stunt is too dangerous; they must have used a stunt double.
A blogger with 60,000 followers: I have to disagree. The videos of Su Mu practicing horse riding and swordsmanship prove that his skills are no worse than a professional stunt double’s. He could absolutely pull this off!
A neutral observer: Speaking as a neutral party, honestly, Black Material Jun is hiding something. They clearly don't dare to leak the actual scene, but there’s enough info here. That horse is the same one Su Mu was riding in his own videos!
A netizen replies: It’s useless to argue. Let’s all just wait for the movie to be released and we’ll see for ourselves. I’ll bet 50 bucks that Su Mu didn't do that stunt himself!
Netizen: I don’t believe it’s him either!
Netizen: If Su Mu didn't use a double for a shot like that, I’ll be his fan for life!
Netizen: I’d even bear his children!
???
Amazing.
What a wild one...]
Sometimes, a well-placed mystery and leaving things to the imagination can be even more intoxicating.
Sun Liaojun was a professional. With just one image, he had set the pace perfectly. He knew exactly how to manufacture suspense and spark heated debate. Compared to simple, straightforward leaks, a more sophisticated exposé provides clues, generates public opinion, and invites people to participate in the speculation.
The more ambiguous something is, the more mysterious it feels—like a seed taking root and sprouting in one's heart. Fans simply cannot walk away until they have an answer. Many were desperate to know the origin of the fire-jumping shot. Their first thought was Su Mu, but Black Material Jun’s content remained vague and elusive. If they wanted to see the full, uncut version, they would have to wait for the film’s release and find it for themselves.
The buzz, the traffic, the anticipation, the highlights—every aspect was masterfully controlled from start to finish.
...
At the filming location, in a parking lot, Sun Liaojun sat in his car, looking at the backend data with a smug expression.
"Xiao Li, Xiao Zhang, did you see that? Just one photo and we’ve got everyone hooked. This is what you call professionalism. You two should learn from this."
Xiao Li gave a thumbs-up. "Boss, you’re truly amazing!"
Xiao Zhang asked, "But boss, aren't you worried that Su Mu’s team might get upset with you for this?"
Sun Liaojun shook his head with a smile. "Why would it be a bad thing? If they’re smart, they’ll see what I’m doing. I’m clearly helping them. Of course, it’s a mutual benefit—I help them generate buzz, and we make a little pocket money. Xiao Zhang, you two are still too young; you can’t see the bigger picture yet. It’s time you learned some real skills from me. Let this experience serve as your first lesson: 'Remote Flattery'."
Xiao Li: "..."
Xiao Zhang: "..."
...
In the hotel, Qian Jida stared at his phone, sighing, "A master. This guy is an absolute master of operations."
Su Mu: "This shrimp is delicious."
Xiao Juzi: "I like the candied lotus root."
Master Zhu: "Here you go."
The three of them were devouring the shrimp, not really listening to a word Qian Jida said. The meals over the past few months hadn't been great, so Master Zhu had specifically driven to a distant city to buy these earlier in the day.
Qian Jida looked annoyed. "Hey, are you even listening to me?"
Su Mu: "Oh, is he really that amazing?"
Qian Jida: "Of course. If this Black Material Jun weren't busy posting scandals, he’d be a top-tier operator at any media firm. These four posts have been more effective than the millions Chen Anzhi and Zheng Quan spent on promotion."
Su Mu nodded. "He’s been following me since before the New Year. You have to admire that kind of persistence."
Qian Jida smiled. "Don't be fooled by the way he’s playing the fans; there’s a method to it. By making people wonder if you used a stunt double, he’s ensuring that when the truth is revealed, your conversion rate from casual viewer to fan will be even higher. He’s essentially helping you gain followers."
Su Mu: "Oh, so he’s actually quite grateful and loyal."
Qian Jida: "It’s clear he wants to keep you as his 'iron rice bowl.' I’m afraid there will be plenty more exposés of you in the future."
Su Mu: "Well, free marketing is always good. Saves me a bundle."
Qian Jida: "..."
Xiao Juzi: "..."
Master Zhu: "Eat your shrimp."
...
April. The two months of filming were drawing to a close.
The process had been quite intense. It wasn't just about rushing; the pace of film production is naturally much faster than that of television. So much is condensed, scenes are truncated, and only the essence remains. Often, the time spent preparing a film is several times longer than the actual shoot. "Xin Qiji" was no exception. Chen Anzhi had started mobilizing last year, but the actual filming only took two months.
This depended on the complexity of the film's content and the difficulty of the shots. Some high-difficulty blockbusters require longer, not just because of the length of the content, but because actors may need to adjust, or the crew must wait for a specific moment to continue filming.
However, "Xin Qiji" had a very clear main arc, so the rhythm was fast. During this time, Su Mu had leveled up his sword techniques and martial arts choreography to Level 4. While he wasn't a "true" martial arts master, when it came to performing sequences, he had surpassed even the likes of Yuan Lang. His swordsmanship, in particular, was incredibly fluid. Whether it was cool drawing techniques or spinning the sword in his hand with flashy flair—if you could imagine it, he could do it. Any "cool" stunt was second nature to him.
What amazed everyone most was his success rate. Many martial artists have to repeat flashy moves several times to get them right, but with Su Mu, they were always fast and accurate. That was what earned him everyone’s respect. Some of the stuntmen even commented that he was like a machine.
Su Mu’s popularity online remained high, and he was the most talked-about person in the industry. After all, having that much buzz and traffic means greater value and money, so it was hard not to be noticed. Qian Jida’s phone had been ringing off the hook. There was no shortage of people wanting to collaborate with Su Mu.
For endorsements, brand status came first, followed by price. As for other things, there were invitations to variety shows, gala appearances, and new scripts. After discussing it, the two decided to wait until the production wrapped and they returned, then they would handle the scheduling and screening.
...
Su Mu’s final scene was shot at night. It wasn't that Chen Anzhi had planned it that way; it was just his habit to shoot the action scenes and grand spectacles first, leaving the smaller, dialogue-heavy, or emotionally demanding scenes for the end. Every director has their own habits and perspective.
This scene was one of the few in the script that showcased Xin Qiji as the poet and literary giant he was. For most of the film, he had spent his time in battle. His life was one of ill-timed circumstances and lack of recognition, which ultimately made his story quite tragic. In the early part of the story, before the chaos in Tai'an City, there was a passage of Xin Qiji practicing swordplay while reciting poetry. This was meant to echo the end of the film, where an elderly, white-haired Xin Qiji sits alone on a cliff, lost in lonely remembrance.
Su Mu was about to film this final scene. Of course, compared to history, there would be some discrepancies, but that didn't affect the positive values the film aimed to express. Even as a hero grows old, his heart remains lofty. A poem like "Po Zhen Zi" defined his first half of his life, while writing "Qing Yu An" at the end captured his knight-errant tenderness.
At this moment, Su Mu was already in makeup. A full head of white hair, deep wrinkles on his face—if you didn't look closely, you might genuinely mistake him for an old man.
On the set, the green screen was replaced by a constructed set: a cliff, pine trees, and a few withered, ancient trees. Su Mu sat there alone, his back hunched, wiping the long sword that had accompanied him his entire life.
They hadn't started filming yet, but Su Mu was already in character. All the emotions he had stored up over these months were for this very moment. The entire crew had arrived on set, all gazing toward the center.
To be honest, over these two months of filming, everyone had become fully convinced of Su Mu’s acting skills. From initial skepticism, they had reached a point where they were just here to appreciate the craft. Everyone wanted to see how Su Mu would put the finishing touch on the character of Xin Qiji.
Yuan Zheng said, "I don't know how Su Mu will play this. This scene of a hero growing old is the most demanding in terms of resonance."
Chen Anzhi watched Su Mu under the lens and nodded slowly. "Indeed. There are only a few moments in the script that can truly resonate, and this final scene is the conclusion, which is naturally very difficult. If Su Mu can perform it in a way that makes everyone on set release their emotions, then it can be considered a success."
Yuan Zheng didn't say anything more. He was a stunt actor, someone who only studied action scenes in depth. He wouldn't claim to be an expert on the nuances of emotional expression, but he understood what Chen Anzhi meant. If even the people on set couldn't empathize, it would be impossible to move the audience once it was edited into the film.
It was easy to imagine how difficult this conclusion was. It needed the tragic sorrow of a hero in his twilight years, without losing the spirit that once "swallowed the world like a tiger," while simultaneously blending in the longing for his beloved. Just thinking about it was daunting.
The set was packed. All the lights and props were ready. For this scene, Chen Anzhi used a single camera and a single angle. He wanted a close-up of Su Mu to capture every detail.
The assistant director walked onto the set. Chen Anzhi’s voice came through the walkie-talkie. "Su Mu, how are you?"
Su Mu was still wiping the long sword in his lap. Hearing Chen Anzhi, he looked up and nodded. "Director Chen, we can start anytime."
"Alright, everyone, get ready. Xin Qiji, final scene—Action!"
As the command was given, the entire set went silent. In an inconspicuous corner on the outskirts, three figures stood.
Xiao Li: "Boss, it’s the final scene."
Xiao Zhang: "I heard this scene would be spectacular, so we had to come watch."
Sun Liaojun peered through the crowd to see Su Mu. But before he could say a word, he was completely captivated by the look in Su Mu’s eyes.
On set, the elderly Xin Qiji was dressed in rags, his hair white, yet he still held his sword. It was as if his heart, no matter when, was always ready to be the sharpest sword the Great Song needed.
He opened his eyes to see withered yellow leaves. On the lonely cliff, it felt as if someone were calling him, but when he looked closely, he was all alone. Su Mu’s gaze drifted, eventually landing on a small desk nearby. As if remembering the past, he slowly raised his long sword, drawing the blade that had never gone dull.
The sword moved again, its sharpness undiminished, but now it carried a sense of regret, longing, helplessness, and sorrow. The sword danced in Su Mu’s hand. The moves were no longer for show; it was as if words were being spoken in the sound of the wind:
*The east wind blows, flowers bloom on a thousand trees,
And it blows down, stars like rain,
Jeweled horses and carved carriages scent the road,
Phoenix flutes play, the jade pot turns,
All night long, the fish and dragons dance...*
*Moths and snow-willows, golden threads,
Laughter and whispers drift with a hidden scent.
Among the crowd, I search for her a thousand times,
Suddenly, I turn back,
And there she is, where the lanterns are dim...*
As the sword movement reached its end, Su Mu slumped, his motions stopping. He looked toward the distant mountains—the lost lands of the Great Song. As he withdrew his gaze and looked back, a single tear slid down from the corner of his eye. It was just one tear, but it contained a lifetime of bitterness and longing.
Silence.
No one on set spoke; even breathing seemed to slow down. Su Mu remained in that final pose for a long time. No one called "Cut." No one dared to disturb him. If you looked around, you would see people with red eyes, some even shedding tears of their own.
At that moment, everyone felt that it wasn't Su Mu standing there—he was the national hero, Xin Qiji, who had once been full of spirit, swearing never to be a man again while the Song lands were occupied!
After a long while, a sigh broke the silence.
"After Su Mu, no one will be able to play Xin Qiji again!"