Chapter 23: A Star Guest Appearance

Chapter 23: A Superstar’s Cameo

Feng Lei was, without a doubt, a lucky man—at least, luckier than his fellow cast members. At the film’s opening press conference, he managed to make his presence felt. Zhang Le and Yang Xiner had been dominating the headlines lately, the topics surrounding them coming thick and fast. With the two of them appearing together, Feng Lei’s modest fame was easily overshadowed; even an A-list celebrity would find it hard to outshine those two right now. For Feng Lei to catch the media’s eye and remind the public of his existence was, in itself, a stroke of good fortune.

As for the other leading actors in the film—even the male lead—they were outright ignored by the press. The entire event revolved almost exclusively around Zhang Le and Yang Xiner.

There were quite a few scenes from “Crazy Stone” set at Arhat Temple; in fact, the entire story centered on this location. This was the main reason Zhang Le had chosen the temple as the site for the press conference.

The actor playing Bao Shihong was Ge Ming, a man in his thirties whose looks weren’t exactly ugly, but certainly couldn’t be described as handsome. Yet, among this cast, he was arguably the most presentable of the lot. Ge Ming had been in the industry for over a decade, appearing in countless TV shows and films, often as the second male lead, but his face was so unfamiliar that he was all but anonymous.

For him, this was a kind of tragedy—one not uncommon among actors.

Still, Ge Ming’s lack of fame was offset by his remarkable skill; he was without question the best actor in the cast. If Ge Ming had the most refined technique, then Feng Lei, despite his plumpness, had the highest “face value,” as he had inherited the best of his parents’ features. In a sea of less-than-handsome faces, his good looks stood out all the more, and he was more than a little pleased with himself.

Of course, this was only among the actors.

Of all the primary roles, Yang Xiner’s part was by far the smallest. She played Bao Shihong’s wife—a woman who appeared only three times, spoke a handful of lines, yet left an unforgettable impression.

Bao’s wife appeared three times in the film: first, lugging a bag of coins, she told her husband, “You’re too stubborn for your own good.” The second time was by the riverside, where she told her haggard husband, “Stop smoking, your voice is shot.” The third time, she said nothing at all: in their old familiar spot, a fake stone worth over eight million hung around her neck, and she closed her eyes in utter trust and happiness, leaning against Bao Shihong’s broad shoulders.

This role, though brief, was indelibly etched into the audience’s memory—not because the stone was crazy, but because the people drawn to it were.

The characters in the film were driven mad: for money, for their livelihood, for pride, for love. Only this woman remained calm, gentle, selfless, and quietly devoted to her husband, who hadn’t received his salary in eight months.

This character was a true highlight of the film.

In the final scene, Blackie—who’d believed in “just rob it outright”—was chased across the overpass by a bakery worker, stuffing meat floss buns into his mouth as he ran, his exaggerated face frozen in a frame. He looked like “Bro Dao,” like “Director Feng,” like “Mike,” like “the Secretary,” like “Manager Xie,” like “Fathead,” like “Sanbao,” even like you, like me…

But not like Bao Shihong’s wife. That was why, in the end, the stone went to her.

There were so many vivid, lifelike characters in the film—a sense of authenticity that made the story feel as if it could have happened right next door.

Yang Xiner didn’t stay long with the crew, despite her title as producer. Once her scenes were finished, she hurried away—her schedule was packed. Both she and Zhang Le understood the importance of enjoying life, but right now, unless they could deliver results, life would be something that tormented rather than delighted them.

Countless eyes were fixed on the two of them. If they couldn’t surpass their past achievements, the voices opposing their relationship would only grow louder. Both worked with relentless determination, knowing that if they wanted happiness, they would have to outwork everyone else. There was no other way.

Zhang Le’s film, lacking any big stars, wasn’t drawing much attention on its own. But thanks to the current buzz around him and Yang Xiner, people were talking. After the media coverage, discussions began to crop up online—though “discussions” was putting it kindly; most were united in their skepticism.

Yang Xiner was only making a cameo. The only other actor with a hint of fame, Feng Lei, was famous mostly because of his parents. As for Zhang Le, it was his first time directing a film—hardly a guarantee of success.

The consensus was that the film was doomed.

Nevertheless, some netizens claimed that if the film was released, they would definitely go see it—just to witness how terrible it might be.

The media had little faith, and the internet was full of naysayers, but Zhang Le paid them no mind. He poured all his energy into the shoot.

After more than a month, the crew was well-adjusted and the pace of filming had picked up considerably.

On a street outside Arhat Temple, it was clear to everyone that Zhang Le was on the verge of losing his temper.

He rarely lost his cool, but when he did, it was never a trivial matter.

At this moment, they were shooting a scene where Jack and Blackie, both battered and disheveled, ran into each other on the street. They exchanged just one look, but that look had taken countless takes and still wasn’t what Zhang Le wanted.

There had to be confusion mixed with surprise, surprise mixed with a sense of vague familiarity—a complex look that would make the audience want to applaud, to share a knowing smile.

Jack was played by Chen Xiao, a stuntman from Hong Kong whose face was a frequent sight in action films and TV shows, almost always as a henchman. In terms of sheer number of appearances, he was the most prolific actor in the entire crew.

Blackie, an especially colorful character, was played by Huang Yao, a true bit-part actor who had rarely even had speaking roles. Zhang Le had chosen him for his look and the aura he exuded—a perfect fit for Blackie. His dopey energy, his innocence, his impatient rashness—if he just acted naturally, he could bring this lifelike character to the screen.

“Take a break!”

Just as Zhang Le was about to explode, his assistant Wen Xin whispered in his ear, and he turned to leave the set.

Chen Xiao and Huang Yao exchanged relieved glances, following Zhang Le’s gaze to the edge of the set—and were startled, then realized what was happening.

Yang Xiner had arrived, and with her was the superstar, Chow Run.

“Run, what brings you here?” Zhang Le greeted him with a smile, then glanced at Yang Xiner, a soft look flickering in his eyes.

“Haha, I’m in Mountain City for an event,” Chow replied, smiling. “Ran into Xiner, heard you were shooting here. As soon as her event ended, she was eager to visit the set, and I thought I’d tag along and see what all the excitement was about. Maybe even get a cameo in your film?”

“Don’t joke like that, Run—I’ll take you up on it,” Zhang Le replied, grinning.

“Just a friendly cameo, won’t take much of my time,” Chow laughed. “What, not welcome?”

“Of course you’re welcome!” Zhang Le said with a smile. In his mind, he immediately recalled a character who appeared at the very start of the film—a role he’d originally planned to cameo in himself, just as the original director had. But now, with Chow Run here, it was even better.

A superstar on the verge of international fame, appearing in the opening scene, even if only for a cameo—such an impact would be nothing short of sensational.