Chapter 145 Body Tempering

It is completely normal for Liu Qingshan to feel apathetic toward the film's plot.

Director Benny Chan was not surprised by the lack of suggestions, merely bringing up the recent shooting session once more.

"Although we are still a long way from wrapping up, I can already feel how exceptional that sequence is. It could even be called a future classic of action cinema. For that, I must sincerely thank you!"

Maintaining his usual calm and effortless demeanor, Liu Qingshan smiled and replied, "If we are talking about classics, I believe the alley fight with Collin, and his intense showdown with Sammo in the office building later on, will truly fit the description. After all, only scenes between two genuine masters can live up to such a title!"

"Good! As long as you have that kind of confidence, there will be no problems at all. Be sure to offer your insights in a timely manner when the time comes!"

"My capabilities are limited, and I wouldn't dare meddle carelessly with the script, but when it comes to martial arts, I do have some suggestions of my own. Brother Collin, Brother Sammo, to be honest, I have always looked forward to witnessing a duel between the two of you!"

With just a few words, he managed to fire up the emotions of everyone present, especially Sammo Hung, whose personality was much more forthright.

"Ah-Shan, with you here, we will definitely forge a classic sequence for the future! It will also show the world outside that Hong Kong's kung fu cinema has not reached a dead end!"

That night's filming still revolved around various scenes inside the stadium, which no longer required Liu Qingshan to step in and perform.

However, life on the set was hardly easy. Without any assigned tasks, he still had to help the crew with minor chores, believing that he was still a long way from enjoying the treatment of a leading man.

In truth, the majority of time during a shoot is spent waiting, even for the main actors.

This is not only because setting up and preparing each scene requires a vast amount of time, but also because every sequence must be broken down into individual storyboard shots for filming.

With different actors, different angles, and different distances, even a single scene, provided there are no mistakes, takes seven or eight takes to complete.

Therefore, waiting is a compulsory course for every actor, a reality far removed from the romanticized crew life imagined by ordinary people.

Finally wrapping up shortly before eleven o'clock, Liu Qingshan politely declined the late-night snack invitations from Kunal and the rest of the crew. Using the excuse that he needed rest after a long-haul flight, he resolutely returned to their hotel accompanied by Shi Hui.

In reality, he felt not a hint of fatigue. Yet, the impressions left by tonight's filming had caused a faint ripple within the practice room residing in his mind.

Surmising that this might be a sign of a potential breakthrough in his own realm, he decided to pass up the opportunity to socialize with his fellow crew members.

Sending Shi Hui off to rest in her own room, he didn't even bother to wash up before projecting his consciousness into the Super Star-Making Instrument.

The moment he entered, the conscious summons originating from the practice room within became intensely strong.

To his surprise, the instant his body entered the practice room, he felt an overwhelmingly formidable and crushing pressure rising out of nowhere.

That oppressive force, which seemed to compress his internal organs, made it difficult for him to take even a single step, forcing him to hurriedly circulate his inner Qi throughout his entire body to attempt a defense.

Only by experiencing it firsthand could one truly comprehend what it felt like to be besieged by a seemingly endless, colossal weight.

Even with his inner Qi stimulated to its absolute limit, Liu Qingshan could still feel its terrifying nature.

It was the sensation of an unimaginably vast, inexplicable weight pressing down upon him. He could even hear the bones inside his body creaking loudly as they desperately fought back against the strain.

The shock to his spirit progressed rapidly from alarm to panic, then to terror, numbness, and finally, disorientation.

He operated his inner Qi as though he had lost his mind; the frenzy and obsession of that moment were completely beyond control.

Gradually, he began to feel a deep internal struggle and collapse, as if his soul were being forcibly torn apart.

At this moment, he looked thoroughly battered. His dark brown shirt had long since lost its original color, and the grime streaked across his forehead and cheeks made him look as though he were wearing camouflage paint.

His bare feet, stripped of shoes at some unknown point, were covered in injuries, with blood, torn flesh, and sweat mixed together in a gruesome spectacle, stripped entirely of his usual unconstrained composure.

His face was so flushed it looked as though it might drip with blood, yet he could not utter a single word, forced to struggle miserably like a turtle flipped onto its back.

Yet no ominous premonition descended upon him. He knew that as long as his consciousness remained within the Super Star-Making Instrument, he would be able to perceive any impending danger in advance.

Therefore, even though the pain was now so excruciating that he wished he could simply die, he refused to give up this inexplicably harsh and bitter opportunity for tempering.

His body had reached its limit, and his brain was completely numb and incapable of thought. He could only pant heavily, every muscle in his body seemingly refusing to obey his commands.

He knew he ought to adapt further and try to hold on, but his heavy feet could barely lift. He finally understood what it truly felt like to have lead poured into one's shoes.

The only reason he forced himself to keep moving was because repeated trials had shown him that if he stayed in one place, the inexplicable pressure would only grow increasingly unbearable.

Every single inch of his bones was creaking, his entire body feeling as if it were about to fall apart. Relying solely on momentum, he staggered forward step by step.

The air within his lungs and respiratory tract had grown far too hot, feeling as though it were about to boil, to the point where his chest began to burn with a sharp pain.

Even worse, he felt as though his feet no longer belonged to him, and he imagined countless blisters must have formed on the soles.

However, his body was currently struggling so hard just to breathe that the pain in his feet was temporarily relegated to the background.

He no longer had the energy to worry about his footing; his body and soul seemed to have severed ties. While he could previously feel a burning ache in his muscles, he was now reduced to moving like a walking corpse.

Furthermore, he carried a weight comparable to Mount Tai upon his back, every single movement demanding the consumption of his entire physical strength.

It was not until he began to cough violently, his grimacing expression clearly displaying that his physical and mental agony had reached its absolute zenith.

Just as he felt he could no longer hold out, the inexplicable pressure abruptly vanished, sending an unprepared Liu Qingshan crashing face-first onto the ground.

He knew only how to gasp for massive breaths of air, his eyelids far too heavy to open.

His limbs felt as though they did not belong to him, completely paralyzed and uncontrollable for the moment.

Lying sprawled out flat on the floor in this fashion, his half-dead, whimpering groans sounded precisely like a terrified little rabbit that had been thoroughly ravaged.

After an unknown duration of time—following the transition of the pain in his back from an overwhelming surge to intermittent, brief throbs—the sensation finally began to soothe into a gradual comfort.

Only then did he muster the strength to open his eyes, greeted by a formless golden curtain of light beginning to swirl and wrap around his entire body.

Following this, sensation returned to his hands and feet. The feeling at that moment was far more blissful than eating an ice pop in the dead of summer.

Next, the formless golden light gradually condensed into a misty shroud, actually beginning to seep thread by thread into his flesh and blood. A tingling sensation akin to ants crawling spread across every part of his body.

He instinctively lifted his upper body to look, only to discover with pleasant surprise that his previously battered and bruised body was healing at a visible rate, closing rapidly as the golden light spread across his skin.