Volume Two: Shadows of the Past Chapter Fifty-Three: The Scoundrel... A Gentleman's Self-Cultivation

Seeing Xueyue turn and run off without a care, Chen Jing hurriedly called out after her, “Hey! Sister Xueyue, don’t run…” But no matter how much Chen Jing shouted behind her, Xueyue didn’t look back, and soon her figure disappeared around the corner.

Chen Jing sighed helplessly; he couldn’t very well chase after her — it was late at night, and he didn’t want to be mistaken for a pervert. He glanced at the bank card in his hand and smiled wryly. Well, now he wouldn’t have to worry about the film’s funding anymore.

Just as Chen Jing was debating whether to find a chance to return the card to Xueyue, his phone rang. Expecting it to be Xueyue, he took out his phone, only to see it was Wang Menglan calling.

At this late hour, Menglan wouldn’t call without a reason. That meant she surely had something important to discuss. Thinking this, Chen Jing quickly answered, “Hello, Sister Menglan. Is there something you need?”

Wang Menglan didn’t answer his question but instead asked, “A-Jing, where are you now?”

“I’m still at the company. The film’s official shooting starts tomorrow, so I’m preparing some things tonight.”

Menglan hesitated before saying, “A-Jing, here’s the thing—I have some spare money. I thought leaving it idle is pointless, so I want to invest it somewhere. But I don’t trust investing in others. Since you’re making a film, how about I invest in your movie?”

“Huh?” Chen Jing was truly at a loss for words. Just days ago, he was worrying about the film’s lack of funds, and now everyone seemed eager to hand him money.

He hesitated briefly but didn’t immediately refuse. Instead, he asked, “Sister Menglan, how much are you thinking of investing?”

“Well… not much, about fifty million,” Wang Menglan replied somewhat shyly. She felt this amount was small compared to what she’d heard about other film projects, where investments casually ranged into hundreds of millions. Compared to that, her fifty million seemed modest.

“Fifty million!?” Chen Jing was startled. This was considered ‘not much’? It seemed the women around him were all wealthy.

Sigh — combined, that’s already over a hundred and twenty million in funding. Had he known he could secure so much, he might have tried shooting that other film straight away.

But for now, he’d focus on finishing “Kill Wolf”—that other project could wait.

Wang Menglan, thinking fifty million might truly be insufficient, quickly added, “Is that enough? If not, I can try to gather more for you.”

Chen Jing hurriedly said, “That’s enough, that’s more than enough.” He didn’t dare ask for more; he honestly wasn’t sure how he’d manage if the “investments” kept coming.

At that moment, Chen Jing came to a realization: for the “investments” from these “close female friends,” he’d just accept all of them. Refusing one or two would be awkward; better to take it all.

Besides, as a scoundrel—no, as a considerate and caring gentleman—Chen Jing certainly couldn’t turn down the women around him.

Hearing Chen Jing didn’t refuse, Wang Menglan’s mood brightened. “Great! So should I transfer it to your previous bank card?”

“Yeah, either works,” Chen Jing replied, then sincerely added, “Sister Menglan, thank you.”

Chen Jing understood that the investments were just an excuse; Wang Menglan, and indeed all the women “investing” in him, were genuinely trying to help without expecting anything in return.

“A-Jing, do you really need to say this to me? You’re Yuxuan’s brother. We’re all family,” Wang Menglan said warmly.

Chen Jing paused, then smiled. Indeed, they were family now.

---

The next day at noon, by the seaside, the entire crew of the “Kill Wolf” film arrived punctually.

Crackling sounds of firecrackers filled the air.

With a series of firecrackers booming, Chen Jing announced the official start of filming for “Kill Wolf.”

Typically, the first shot of a film shoot is relatively simple, chosen to be done in one take as a good omen for smooth completion.

Thus, Chen Jing deliberately picked the opening seaside scene of “Kill Wolf” to shoot first. Such a simple shot shouldn’t pose any problems.

“Chen, I just need to walk behind the girl, right?” asked Liu Hao, who played Zhang Guozhong. He was the only star actor in the entire crew—a top-tier male celebrity. Lin Xi had specially invited him to bring prestige to the film.

Coincidentally, Liu Hao’s schedule had opened up recently. Being an actor under Jingrun and having a good rapport with Lin Xi, he accepted the invitation.

Chen Jing had initially thought it unnecessary to hire Liu Hao, considering his high fee, but since Lin Xi was the film’s main investor, he had to comply.

Chen Jing nodded, “Yes, just follow the girl in the first shot.”

“Got it.” Liu Hao wasn’t particularly concerned with Chen Jing’s methods, nor did he care much about the film’s prospects. Like most in the crew, he wasn’t optimistic and considered this a temporary gig.

“Click!”

The camera captured the waves and the beach for over ten seconds, then the little girl walked by, followed by Zhang Guozhong. The first scene was completed smoothly.

Chen Jing reviewed the footage and, finding no issues, prepared to shoot the next scene.

Since they were already at the beach, Chen Jing decided to film all the seaside scenes first, to avoid returning later for pickups and wasting time.

However, before they could start the second scene, problems arose.

“You mean you still haven’t familiarized yourselves with the script? Don’t know how to act?” Chen Jing frowned at the three actors standing before him.

The three supporting actors—A-Le, Brother Hua, and A-Chen—were all Jingrun actors.

“Heh, Chen, isn’t it because you gave us too little time? We only just finished auditions a few days ago and now have to start filming. There’s no way we could have properly gone through the script,” said Lin Ze, the actor playing Brother Hua, with a smile.

The others were Zhang Ye, playing A-Le, and Guo Lin, playing A-Chen.

Guo Lin added, “Yeah, it’s really too rushed. How about you shoot other scenes first, Chen? We can film ours later.”

Zhang Ye opened his mouth to say something but ended up silent.

Chen Jing frowned deeply. Aside from Zhang Ye’s visible unease, Guo Lin and Lin Ze showed no remorse at all.

He didn’t lose his temper on the spot but said calmly, “I’ll give you half an hour to familiarize yourselves with the script. I’ll shoot the next scene first, then film yours in half an hour.” Without waiting for their response, he walked toward Liu Hao.

After Chen Jing left, Lin Ze nudged Guo Lin’s shoulder and smiled, “See? I told you Chen Jing would shoot other scenes first. No need to worry.”

Guo Lin casually replied, “Yeah, true. It’s not really our fault; the script is so poorly written, who knows how Chen Jing expects us to act or familiarize ourselves?”

Zhang Ye didn’t join their complaints. He found the script quite normal. He had been ready to shoot but didn’t want to oppose the senior actors, so he was dragged into their delay tactics.

After hesitating, Zhang Ye said, “How about we rehearse the scene? We’ll be ready in half an hour.”

“Don’t rush. Let me finish this cigarette first,” Lin Ze said nonchalantly.

Meanwhile, Chen Jing found Liu Hao and said, “Let’s shoot your scene next.”

Liu Hao was slightly surprised but glanced toward Lin Ze and the others, understanding the situation. Without further comment, he nodded, “Okay.”

As a top-tier actor, Liu Hao took his craft seriously. Even if he wasn’t optimistic about the film, he had already memorized his lines.

Seeing Liu Hao’s willing cooperation, Chen Jing silently admired him—this was why he was a first-rate actor.

Thus, the second scene of “Kill Wolf” was filmed: Zhang Guozhong sitting alone on the beach, watching the little girl leave this world.

This shot also went smoothly, completed in one take since it wasn’t difficult.

“Okay, let’s start the next scene,” Chen Jing called out, handing the monitor to his assistant director, Wang Shumin, before heading to makeup to get camera-ready.

Since Ma Jun played the lead, Chen Jing took the role himself.

Soon, Chen Jing appeared wearing a somewhat tight shirt that revealed his chest muscles.

“Wow! A-Jing, those chest muscles—are they fake?” Wang Shumin exclaimed with sparkling eyes.

Chen Jing rolled his eyes, ignoring the teasing.

At that moment, Lin Ze approached him and asked, “Chen, I just stand on the beach and throw the ball, right?”

Chen Jing glanced at Lin Ze without answering, then coldly said, “Want me to teach you how to read the script?” and walked away toward Liu Hao.

Lin Ze was left standing there, awkwardly smiling.

Liu Hao looked at Chen Jing’s outfit and gave him a thumbs-up: “Chen, you look sharp. You really were born to be a star.” Whether he was praising Chen Jing’s handling of Lin Ze or his appearance—or both—remained unclear.

—The End of This Chapter—