Huayu: This producer has no bottom line.

Chapter 8 Expressionless, Dead Fish Face

Changyou's payment speed was even faster than expected.

In just three days, they managed to complete the cumbersome approval process of the large company and deposited 600,000 yuan into the innovation team's account.

When the news reached the entertainment division, Alex's face turned extremely grim.

He never expected that Ren Pingsheng would squeeze 600,000 yuan of real money out of Changyou as soon as he set up the project team.

If you let him negotiate this money, there's no way he'll get anywhere without at least a week of dinners and meals.

Xiao Lin whispered to Sister Zhao, "Brother Zhou said Alex stayed in the office all day and didn't even eat lunch!"

Sister Zhao glanced at him but didn't reply.

Some things are better left unsaid.

……

Dongba Country Park.

In a wasteland, the weeds grew taller than a person's calf.

Dapeng glanced down at the ancient-style robe he was wearing, which reeked of a strong, sour smell, and then at the toy short sword in his hand, whose plastic edges were still raw and unrepaired. He fell into deep thought.

"Ping Sheng, it's not that I don't trust you," Da Peng scratched his back with the hilt of his sword, "Are you sure this footage is watchable?"

The costume was rented by Sister Zhao from the August First Film Studio.

As for the sword...

I bought it when I passed by Shijia Primary School; it cost ten yuan.

Not far away, the chubby boy Qiao San was also wearing the same cheap costume, nervously rubbing his hands together.

This is the person Ren Pingsheng pulled out from the crowd at the Huairou Film and Television Base yesterday. He was told that there was a drama that needed people and that they would pay 200 yuan a day, and the person came without hesitation.

Ren Pingsheng sat on a folding stool, fiddling with the DV camera he had just borrowed.

"Brother Peng, this is called 'gap moe' (a cute contrast between the characters' or their appearance), and it's the essence of our entire show."

Da Peng's lips twitched. "I get the contrast, but where's the cuteness?"

He had been doing the show for two years, and this was the first time he had heard poverty described in such a refreshing and unconventional way.

Qiao San chuckled: "Brother Peng, since we're here, let's make the best of it. Director Ren said that 'gap moe' is cute, so this is 'gap moe'."

He smiled on the surface, but in his heart he had already decided what kind of production crew this was.

A completely makeshift team, they're mostly just swindling company funds.

But none of that matters to him; all he cares about is getting the money.

"Alright, get ready." Ren Pingsheng stood up and clapped his hands.

Kobayashi slapped a clapperboard in front of the camera.

"Scene 1, Shot 1: Action!"

Dapeng took a deep breath, but no, all he smelled was a sour, foul odor.

He mustered his strength, made an extremely exaggerated expression, and was about to speak.

"Cut!" Ren Pingsheng shouted to stop immediately.

Dapeng stood there, stunned, his mouth still open.

"Brother Peng, stop making those winks and smirks."

"They accepted it?" Da Peng asked, confused. "Then what am I supposed to act in?"

Ren Pingsheng stepped forward. "I want you to be expressionless, with empty eyes, like a corporate slave who's been ground down by life but has no choice but to get up and go to work to pay off his mortgage."

Da Peng was even more confused. "This is a comedy, bro! What kind of effect can you expect from me playing a wooden stake? It doesn't even fit into your script!"

"Because the key to this show isn't your face, it's the lines. The more expressionless your face is, the more contrasting the later voice-over for the witty remarks will be."

Seeing Da Peng's still bewildered expression, Ren Pingsheng sighed and had no choice but to personally demonstrate.

He took the plastic short sword, staring blankly ahead, deliberately exuding a sense of dejection.

"My name is Wang Duoyu, and I'm a Tianlong player. I never imagined I'd be transported into the game world..."

The cicadas' chirping suddenly became exceptionally shrill in July.

"this...."

Da Peng rubbed his face, unable to hold back any longer, "Won't the audience curse us to death?"

Sister Zhao also chimed in, "Pingsheng, I know you have a lot of ideas, but that's not how you film comedy. You haven't even come up with a punchline. How about we add some physical comedy?"

"Yeah, Brother Ren, this looks a bit... a bit dry," Xiao Lin chimed in.

Qiao San huddled under the shade of a tree, his mouth tightly shut.

Despite the repeated attempts by the crowd to dissuade him, Ren Pingsheng offered no explanation.

It's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't explain it.

People in 2009 had never seen this kind of bizarre episodic drama before. It's no use trying to describe how great spicy hot pot is to a group of people who have never eaten chili peppers.

"Just shoot as I say."

Ren Pingsheng shoved the sword back into Dapeng's hand. "Brother Peng, let's do it one more time."

Da Peng had no choice but to bite the bullet and go for it.

"Brother Peng, don't raise your eyebrows, you're expressionless! Expressionless!"

"No, those are dead fish eyes, the eyeballs are rolling upwards!"

One after another, Ren Pingsheng called for a halt more and more frequently.

Da Peng's demeanor is indeed becoming more and more decadent.

The sun moved from overhead to the west, and the direction of the tree shade changed.

The sour-smelling robe was soaked with sweat and clung to his body.

……

"I'm not filming anymore."

Everyone stopped.

"Brother Peng?" Xiao Lin called out tentatively.

Dapeng threw the plastic sword into the grass, opened his collar, and squatted down.

"Let me be frank with you, if these things I filmed today were posted online, I'd be the first one to lose face."

He wiped the sweat from his face, his voice much heavier than usual.

"I'm a well-regarded host, but my acting is so bad it's like I'm sitting on a wooden post. What will the audience think of me?"

Da Peng is genuinely anxious. Losing face on screen and losing face off screen are two different things. Someone who wants to become famous can't possibly be indifferent to their reputation.

"Brother Peng," Ren Pingsheng also squatted down, "trust me this once."

"We'll only shoot for one day. If the final product isn't good, I'll delete everything in front of everyone."

Dapeng stared at him for five seconds, then pushed himself up from the ground, bent down, and picked up the short sword.

"Okay, today it is."

Ren Pingsheng stood up and walked back to his seat.

"Brother Peng, this time..."

"Dead fish eyes, I know."

During the rest of the shoot, no one offered any further suggestions, and the entire set was immersed in an eerie, fast-paced atmosphere.

"Brother Peng, turn your head and look to the left. Okay, stop."

"Qiao San, you're playing Wang Yuyan. Smile even sweeter, yes, that's the expression, lean on his shoulder."

"Dapeng, stab yourself with your sword, no need to show any expression."

There are no complex long takes, not even complete dialogues; the lines are all in half-sentences.

Sister Zhao became more and more confused as she looked at the photos; it was the first time she had ever seen someone take pictures like this.

With the last sound card, all the footage for all three episodes was filmed.

When it was time to finish work, Dapeng collapsed on the grass, his mind buzzing.

It's not just exhaustion, it's more about questioning the meaning of life.

He recalled the scenes he had filmed that day...

This is supposed to be called a drama?

Looking at Ren Pingsheng tidying up, Da Peng couldn't help but feel uneasy.

In the previous MJ feature, this guy was indeed awesome, but today, he seems like an amateur.

Did a blind cat stumble upon a dead mouse?

How could I have been so bewitched as to agree?

"Brother Peng, what are you daydreaming about?" Qiao San changed back into his baggy shorts and patted Da Peng on the shoulder.

Da Peng remained silent, and Qiao San followed his gaze.

"I think it's great."

"What do you think?" Da Peng glanced at him. "You played more than a dozen roles in one day, and you think that's great?"

"Of course, there were more scenes to film in one day than I did in the previous month."

"Don't worry about it, you're not in charge anyway. Come on, I'll treat you to some skewers."

"You're treating me? How many skewers of kidneys can you get with your two hundred yuan?"

"Then please."

"Sigh... I'll treat then."

The two walked out one after the other, Qiao San's flip-flops making a clattering sound on the dirt road.