Chapter 118: Recording the Promotional Film

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Chu Yin rose slowly, a snake-shaped long sword in her hand.
“Wheh!”
Jiang Yun drew out a black great sword from behind her. “Fight, Nalan Yanyan!”
“Cut!”
The assistants who had been waiting jumped in at once. Ye Xiaohe stepped forward and took a pose exactly like Chu Yin’s.
“Action!”
Jiang Yun stood with the black sword leading, and Ye Xiaohe faced him with his own blade.
At that moment, the dubbing teacher delivered the line: “If I fail in the three-year vow, I, Nalan Yanyan, will gladly become a slave and a maid!”
Jiang Yun sneered, making it clear he looked down on it.
An extra playing an elder sat cross-legged on the ground and, with a heavy sweep of his right arm, shouted, “Begin!”
“Thrust!”
A wire on Jiang Yun’s back tightened, and he leapt three meters high.
With both hands gripping the black great sword, he brought it down in a crushing split.
Ye Xiaohe lifted his snake-shaped sword to block.
“Ting!”
Jiang Yun swung the black blade in blinding arcs.
In his hands it seemed a long knife, and he swung it in broad cuts and great chops.
Ye Xiaohe’s snake sword danced in successive thrusts, throwing off flickering afterimages.
“Boom!”
The wires behind both men snapped tight and lifted them into the air as they traded moves in midair.
“Boom!”
They fought from sky to ground, from ground to sky again.
“Wind’s utmost, the sunset burns!”
“Flame that devours the tide with the Blade!”
Jiang Yun swept the black sword sideways. “Fight! Nalan Yanyan! Three years already!”
He turned his palm and slung the black sword back behind him.
He inflated his cheeks and exhaled a phantom violet flame, extending his right hand.
Then he slowly brought both palms together and called, “Buddha’s Wrathful Lotus Fire!”
Director Liu Guoqiang leaned over the monitor, all business. “For post-production of this part, use the highest-level effects!”
“Yes, Director Liu!”
Jiang Yun and Ye Xiaohe resumed the duel.
From offstage the voice actor spoke: “Are you Rock Owl?”
“Boom!”
Ye Xiaohe crashed hard to the ground.
“Cut!”
Chu Yin rushed onstage; a wire tugged and she dropped in the exact same posture as Ye.
“Action!”
Chu Yin delivered her line: “I lost. In your eyes I may be reckless, but I cannot become your slave or maid. Let me be reckless once more!”
She picked up the blade and drew it toward her own throat.
“Ting!”

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Jiang Yun knocked Chu Yin’s sword away.
“Enough of slavery and servitude. Nalan Yanyan, I now officially tell you—you are free.”
Jiang Yun smiled warmly.
Chu Yin said nothing.
Jiang Yun walked away into the distance.

Then, as if no sooner settled than another disturbance broke out.
A veteran actor playing Yun Leng looked at the veteran actor playing Ge Ye. “Ge Ye, what’s the matter with you? Mind your image!”
“Elder Yun Leng, he is the mysterious man who killed Mo Cheng!”
“What?”
Those present erupted in uproar.
“Mr. Xiao Yan, please stay a moment. Our Yunlan Sect has something for you to verify.”
“Cut!”
“Next scene: Medusa versus Yun Shan!”
“Hoo—” Jiang Yun exhaled in relief. At least he didn’t have to go on now.
Wang Fengwan arrived with composed steps, wearing a bright red mermaid skirt, slit at both sides. As she moved, two long, fair, elegant legs showed.
She was also in black shorts.
“All departments, get ready!”
“Action!”
“Boom!”
Wang Fengwan snapped out a whip kick, her long, toned right leg striking directly into the other’s head.
Yu Hua, an old-stage actor, was playing Yun Shan.
Neither had a stunt double.
In the rest area, Jiang Yun looked at Wang Fengwan in surprise. “Even she didn’t use a double!”
Yu Hua and Wang Fengwan traded blows. Though not as flashy as Jiang Yun’s movement, they were fluid and seamless, far better than ordinary actors.
They kept exchanging for a long while, and eventually Yu Hua’s Yun Shan softened, agreeing to let Medusa take Xiao Yan down the mountain.
“Cut!”
“Okay, pass!”
“Lunch break. Everyone, go eat!”
“Yay, lunch break!”
“Director!” Jiang Yun came to Liu Guoqiang.
“Hm? You’re always the one most eager to eat. What’s wrong today?”
“Nothing. Just a few words with you.” Jiang Yun rubbed his nose. “Director, at this pace, we can finish shooting by New Year, and it can air by next spring!”
Liu Guoqiang nodded. “Barring any surprises, that’s right.”
“What are you planning to shoot after we finish Battle Steed Sky?”
“We’ll decide that later,” Liu said with a smile.
“Then I’ll go eat!”
After taking his boxed meal, Jiang Yun stood there and ate it with his own hands.
“Ding-ling-ling!”
His phone rang. He glanced at the screen: an unfamiliar number.
After a moment’s thought, he answered.

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“Hello, Mr. Jiang Yun?” said a man’s voice on the line.
“I’m here. Who is this?”
“This is Ding Xin, coordinator for Huaguo’s Foreign Affairs Image Ambassadors. You have been chosen for the Image Ambassador role. Wang Fengwan, Li Mengya, and Zheng Fei were chosen with you.”
A long breath escaped Jiang Yun. “Thank you for calling. What do you need from me?”
Ding Xin said, “Mr. Jiang Yun, tomorrow morning we will shoot your promotional clips and posters. Please arrive on time. I’ll send you the address by text.”
“Understood. Thank you for the call.”
“Good, then that’s all.”
Jiang Yun hung up, hurriedly finished his meal, and went to find Liu.
When Liu saw him, he said first, “So this is the Image Ambassador publicity shoot?”
“How did you know?” Jiang Yun asked.
“You, son, did you forget that Wang Fengwan was selected too?”
“Oh, right!” Jiang Yun tapped his forehead.
Liu added, “Your tickets are booked. I’ll have a plane transfer you both to the airport.”
Jiang Yun nodded. “I’ll remove my makeup first.”
“Fine.”
When Jiang Yun saw Wang Fengwan again, she had changed out of the red mermaid skirt into her original yellow sweater, black pants, and heavy work shoes.
An S500 stood at the studio gate, and Wang and Jiang got in.
“Hmmm!” The engine hummed as the car pulled away.
They went to Wushang City Airport, got their tickets, passed security, and boarded.
“Liu went and bought two adjacent seats—can you believe it?” Jiang muttered.
“What did you say, Jiang Yun?”
“Nothing.”
“Pfft.” Wang Fengwan gave a cold laugh. “You don’t want to sit next to me, but I don’t want to sit next to you either.”
Wang Fengwan went on, “You change your face faster than turning a page. One moment warm, the next distant. I can’t understand what you’re thinking.”
Jiang rolled his eyes, wanting to snap back, *This is the art of luring and withdrawing—you taught it to me!* but he didn’t say it.
“By the way, when did you and Mengya become that close?” he asked.
“Am I suddenly close? How come I didn’t notice?”
Jiang was at a loss. “Then must I be mistaken?”
“No,” Wang Fengwan said flatly. “You’re definitely mistaken.”
“I—” Jiang was speechless, almost blurting, “This mood isn’t fit for talking!”
“Then keep quiet!”
“All right, I’ll keep quiet,” Jiang said, making a gesture like zipping his jacket shut.
Inside, Jiang shook his head at his own thoughts: with Wang Fengwan, it was always one of them at a loss and the other getting the better of it—a truly delightful pair of sworn rivals.