Big Man Wudi was a historical costume blockbuster that began filming last year. The production brought together several of China's top-tier stars, and it was directed by the renowned Lu Zhiyong, one of the country's most famous filmmakers. Naturally, the project had been a high-profile one from the start.
The movie had been shot at Jinling Film City, and at that time, Lu Chen had just wrapped up work on Autumn in My Heart. Through an introduction from Zhang De, the boss of Qiande Entertainment, he managed to land a small cameo role, one of the young officers serving under the great general Huo Qubing. His part was tiny, just a few lines.
From shooting to post-production, the entire project took over a year. The film's release was strategically scheduled for the summer holiday season, just before the flood of imported Hollywood blockbusters, to avoid direct competition.
When Big Man Wudi held its premiere, Lu Chen had actually been invited to attend.
But, firstly, his schedule didn't allow it; secondly, with such a minor role, he would have looked awkward among a lineup of A-list stars. So, he politely declined.
Still, since it was his first-ever film appearance, Lu Chen felt a special attachment to it, enough to want to support it at the box office.
And of course, Chen Fei'er tagged along.
For most ordinary couples, dinner, a walk, and a movie night were the most normal of dates. But for Lu Chen and Chen Fei'er, even something so simple required stealth and planning. They had to disguise themselves, sneak in quietly, and even get their assistant to buy the tickets in advance, just to avoid being recognized and mobbed by fans.
They chose a theater not far from their hotel. The showtime was 8 p.m., and they entered the hall around 7:50, taking the couple's seats in the very back row.
Because of the prime time slot and the film's star-studded cast, the theater was nearly full, at least 90% of the seats taken.
Chen Fei'er leaned her head lightly against Lu Chen's shoulder and murmured, "The last time I came to a cinema to actually watch a movie must have been… over ten years ago."
Lu Chen smiled. "If you like it, I can come watch with you more often."
She said softly, a bit wistfully, "Sometimes I think… maybe being an ordinary person is better. No endless gossip, no pressure, life would be so much easier. If you meet someone you like, you can just be happy together."
Lu Chen smiled but didn't respond. He knew perfectly well, if she truly could be an ordinary person, she probably wouldn't want to.
It was just one of those artsy moods, talking.
Sensing the amusement in his smile, Chen Fei'er gave his arm a light, mock-angry pinch.
"When was the last time you watched a movie with a girlfriend?"
That question, Lu Chen could only dodge it: "Ahem… thirsty? I'll open a bottle of water for you."
There was no right answer to that. Whatever he said, it'd be wrong. He couldn't exactly lie with a straight face, could he?
"Hmph!"
Chen Fei'er snorted in mock annoyance but then tightened her hold on his arm possessively.
A few minutes later, the movie began.
Director Lu Zhiyong's craftsmanship was, as expected, impressive. Especially with historical epics, his control over pacing and visual grandeur was masterful. The cinematography was magnificent, the props historically authentic, and the visual effects were top-tier by domestic standards.
If there was a flaw, it was one shared by many Chinese blockbusters: the plot was noticeably weak, with several illogical turns.
Lu Chen now had a professional habit when watching films, he'd analyze them instinctively, thinking like an actor. He'd imagine himself in the protagonist's place: If it were me, how would I act this scene? How could I make it better?
That instinct wasn't something he'd always had. It had come after entering the film and television industry, when Mo Ran's life memories began to take hold in him.
In the dream world, Mo Ran had been a quiet, introspective man, a talented actor who loved to study scripts alone, to observe and learn from the best films and shows from China and abroad. He drew inspiration and skill from everything he watched.
Those memories had deeply influenced Lu Chen.
When writing Full House, for instance, he had made sweeping changes to the original, keeping the basic story structure but enriching the characters, tightening the pacing, and fixing many of the original's weak points.
Now, as he watched Big Man Wudi, his thoughts naturally drifted toward performance, direction, and technique, all subconsciously shaped by Mo Ran's influence.
Halfway through the movie, Lu Chen's character finally appeared on screen!
Last year, during the film's promotional period, the Big Man Wudi production team had posted some preview clips online, including one featuring Lu Chen's brief appearance. At the time, it had stirred quite a bit of excitement among his fans.
But those were rough, unpolished scenes, no post-production, no special effects. Compared to what was now showing on the big screen, that earlier footage couldn't hold a candle.
Lu Chen's appearance on screen was nothing short of electrifying. Facing the vast, thundering ranks of the Xiongnu cavalry, he charged forward on horseback without hesitation, one man, one steed, like a tiger and a dragon unleashed. Combined with the stirring, heroic score, the scene was pure adrenaline, making the audience's blood surge with excitement.
The reaction from the theater crowd spoke volumes about how effective that sequence was.
"Wait, isn't that Lu Chen?"
"It is Lu Chen! First time seeing him in a historical costume role, not bad!"
"He's so handsome!"
"I almost didn't recognize him."
"Awesome!"
Those murmurs of admiration from the audience were the best kind of praise an actor could get. And when Lu Chen's character engaged the Xiongnu general in battle, the scene reached its peak.
Every strike, every clash of spear and hammer, the thunderous roar of soldiers, the neighing of warhorses, all of it, through the surround-sound system of the theater, hit the audience like crashing waves.
At that point, no one was speaking anymore. Everyone was transfixed by the screen, afraid to blink and miss even a moment.
On the big screen, Lu Chen's expression was steely and intense, his eyes sharp as blades, his spear movements swift and commanding, unstoppable.
From his first entrance to the fierce, close-quarters combat, Lu Chen had performed everything himself, without using a stunt double. That gave the cinematographer complete freedom with the camera, allowing for dynamic close-ups that perfectly captured the power and presence of his character.
He even outshone Huo Qubing, the general he served under.
Chen Fei'er's eyes sparkled as she watched, unable to resist leaning close to whisper in his ear, "Hubby, you're quite handsome."
Her breath was warm and sweet against his skin, the tone tender and affectionate, it sent a shiver through Lu Chen. He took her hand in his.
It was, after all, the first time Chen Fei'er had called him hubby. Cheesy as it sounded… he loved it.
It gave him a profound sense of satisfaction.
Unfortunately, Lu Chen's on-screen heroics didn't last even a full minute. As a minor supporting character, his soldier was soon surrounded by the Xiongnu army and fell valiantly in battle, a heroic death that came all too quickly.
The theater filled with sighs of regret; the audience clearly felt sorry to see him go.
In truth, it was already generous that his character lasted that long on film. If the story had followed strict historical accuracy, someone who charged alone into enemy lines like that would've been turned into a pincushion by arrows within seconds.
"Too short!"
Chen Fei'er was dissatisfied. "They should've given you more screen time, that character had so much potential!"
Lu Chen could only smile and shake his head.
When Big Man Wudi was filmed, he had only just begun making a name for himself in the industry. If not for a lucky opportunity, he wouldn't even have landed a supporting cameo in such a major historical production. There was nothing to complain about.
Besides, the film was packed with famous faces, even Huo Qubing himself was technically a supporting role. For someone like Lu Chen to appear for over half a minute was already generous treatment. The fact his scenes hadn't been cut entirely was success enough.
The movie continued to play.
Chen Fei'er held Lu Chen's hand and traced lazy circles on his palm with her fingertip. Her voice was soft and sultry as she whispered, "Let's go back to the hotel."
Her tone, light, teasing, seductive, sent a tingling warmth through him, like ants crawling beneath his skin.
They'd originally planned to watch the entire film, but at a moment like this, Lu Chen would've been a fool to refuse. He quickly led Chen Fei'er out of the theater, slipping away unnoticed to return to the hotel for their real private time together., , After its release, Big Man Wudi grossed over 100 million yuan in just seven days. Industry insiders estimated a final box office of around 250 million, which, considering its production cost, meant it would at least break even, though turning a major profit seemed unlikely.
Still, as the first film Lu Chen ever appeared in, Big Man Wudi sparked considerable buzz within his fan community. Many of his fans bought tickets specifically to see his performance.
To their surprise (and frustration), their idol appeared for barely over half a minute in a two-hour movie, and just like that, he was gone.
Fans everywhere complained that it wasn't nearly enough, calling for more.
Soon, fan forums and social media were filled with passionate posts, "We want Lu Chen to star in a movie!"
"Give us a full film! Let us really enjoy it!"
(End of chapter.)
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