Chapter 55: If You Can’t Compete in Anything, What’s the Point of Playing?

At this moment, the filming site was crowded with people. Aside from the actors of the "Langya List" crew, several neighboring production teams had quietly arrived to observe. After all, this was a scene directed by Zhang Huaimo. Moreover, many had heard rumors that the script was exceptionally well-written. Everyone wanted to see just how the first scene would turn out. If the opening sets the right tone, the rest of the series may follow suit. Often, however, it determines not the upper limit, but the lower bound of the show. If the beginning is lackluster, difficult to draw viewers in, it’s a clear sign of what’s to come. But if the tone is grasped from the outset, and emotions are stirred, the following performances will naturally maintain the same standard and feeling. That’s why many say the first scene is like raising the banner—it carries tremendous pressure.

"Look over there, Chen Yang’s here too. Probably to see Su Mu. I heard he wanted to play Mei Changsu, but Su Mu got the role first."
"The opening scene is crucial. Even the neighboring crews came to watch. Next year, they'll compete for ratings, so they want to gauge the competition—those in the know understand."
"But hoping to see Zhang Huaimo stumble seems unlikely."
"Zhang Huaimo will be fine, but who knows if Su Mu can pull it off? If his performance is shallow, it’s Zhang Huaimo’s reputation on the line."
People whispered gossip all around.

Within the crew itself, veteran actors and seasoned performers waited in the wings, eager to see the outcome. Having read the script, they understood more than outsiders just how challenging this scene was for Su Mu.

"Tsk tsk, the scene is understated, but the turmoil within is immense."
"Indeed, I’ve studied the script several times lately. The role of Mei Changsu requires the most nuanced control."
"He must seek revenge in such a complex environment. His acting mustn’t be stiff; his expression must feign serenity, yet his inner suffering and repression must be revealed, foreshadowing for the audience."
"To perform it well, to make it sophisticated, is truly daunting."
"If any of us tried, we might not do much better."
...

At this moment, Su Mu, clad in a traditional long robe and a plush fur cloak, lounged lazily on a bench. He was oblivious to the comments outside. From his perspective, though the scene was challenging, it didn’t feel like a mountain of pressure. In his previous life, he had watched "Langya List," and Mr. Hu Ge’s portrayal of Mei Changsu was already masterful. Now, Su Mu’s proficiency in expression control had reached LV4, master level; his other skills stood at LV3, artisan level. With such abilities, he could easily match Hu Ge’s standard.

He wasn’t slacking off or acting like a diva. Rather, he had entered the state of Mei Changsu, plagued by lingering illness.

Nearby, Zhang Huaimo, after briefing a few actors and giving a simple explanation, approached Su Mu. Yet Su Mu didn’t stand up. He seemed drained, tilting his head as he looked at Zhang Huaimo. Observers couldn’t help but click their tongues in secret.

"This Su Mu is rather arrogant."
"Director Zhang goes over the script, and he’s still lounging like Ge You? That’s bold—probably the first."
"Just showing off. He thinks playing Gao Qiqiang makes him a big shot?"
"Honestly, I don’t get why Director Zhang values him so much."
"He must have some connections, right?"
"Who knows. Anyway, I doubt he’ll do justice to Mei Changsu."
Some were quietly bitter, their jealousy turning sour.

Yet Zhang Huaimo, standing before Su Mu, was not angered by his languid manner. His eyes brightened, a hint of approval flashing through. He had planned to remind Su Mu about the scene, but the words died on his lips. It seemed unnecessary.

Zhang Huaimo said, "We’re about to begin, Su Mu."

Hearing his words, Su Mu finally pushed himself up, slowly rising. His movements were frail, his expression calm as still water, but a sharp glint flashed in his gaze.

[Expression control proficiency +1]
[Emotion control proficiency +1]
[Behavior mimicry proficiency +1]
[Skill points +0.01...0.01+...]

Zhang Huaimo’s eyes shifted, astonished. This young man’s acting—he seemed to have become much more formidable than even a few months ago! Could he truly be a genius?

He knew Su Mu was now fully in character. Without hesitation, he hurried away from the set to the director’s control position, then picked up the walkie-talkie.

"All roles ready. 'Langya List,' Act One, Scene One! Action!"

With the announcement, the site fell silent. All eyes turned to Su Mu in the distance.

This scene used three camera angles: from Mei Changsu entering the capital, to his encounter with the first familiar figure. The shots moved from the city gate to close-up, finally locking onto Su Mu.

As the camera cut to him, Su Mu bowed, and in the next moment when he raised his head, everyone was stunned.

There was something there!

No one could explain why.

But at this moment, the person before them was no longer Su Mu. He was Mei Changsu.

No unnecessary movements, no changes to the lines—just a few simple sentences. Yet everyone present felt the inner turmoil of Mei Changsu upon seeing someone from his childhood.

This was not a formulaic performance. Su Mu’s expression showed almost no change. But he was suddenly sorrowful, a ripple stirred within him! Everyone was certain of this, though none could pinpoint the source of their feeling.

The emotion came out of nowhere, woven naturally into Su Mu’s every gesture.

At this moment, Su Mu was surely suppressing his impulses, struggling with the torment of keeping hatred alive in his heart.

Some had not read the script, yet they were drawn in. So this is Mei Changsu!

No one knew how much time had passed until the director’s voice rang out.

"Cut! Excellent!"

"!!!"
"???"
"......"

The sudden "cut" brought everyone back to reality. Some realized, having been so engrossed, their mouths were still agape.

Yet all had to admit—this scene, Su Mu’s performance was astonishing.

The scene was understated, but the inner world was turbulent.

Such a contradictory blend—how could he render it so exquisitely?

Only now did some people understand why Zhang Huaimo prized Su Mu so highly.

"Su Mu’s performance is outstanding!"
"My word, this Mei Changsu is incredible!"
"Alright, let’s go. There’s no need to watch further—Director Zhang’s show won’t flop."

Members of the neighboring crews had found their answer.

In the crowd, Chen Yang stared blankly into the distance. He looked more dejected than yesterday. After watching this scene, he began to doubt himself.

He couldn’t compete in looks.
His acting was inferior.
Connections… Su Mu probably had those, too.

What was the point anymore?