Chapter 82: The Stand-in on Set

“Brother Can, how come you have time to visit?” Seeing Can standing nearby, the director hurried over, nodding and bowing to him respectfully.

“Mr. Yan, this is the director of this film, Shen Kui Xi.” Can did not respond to the director, instead introducing him to Yan Xu.

“Shen Kui Xi?” Hearing such a peculiar name, Yan Xu nearly burst out laughing.

“Mr. Yan, that’s just a nickname my brothers gave me. My real name is Yu Xi,” Yu Xi said with a broad smile. Observing how even Brother Can was careful and attentive before Yan Xu, Yu Xi realized the young man’s identity was extraordinary.

Watching a man approaching forty call himself ‘little brother’ to him, Yan Xu felt a strange discomfort, but still politely shook Yu Xi’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Yu. I’m Yan Xu.”

“Yan Xu?” Yu Xi was visibly stunned, as if trying to recall where he had heard the name before.

“Mr. Yan is a renowned director from Hong Kong. Last year, our company released ‘The Rainy Night Butcher’ and ‘The Lamb Doctor,’ both his works,” Can quickly explained, seeing Yu Xi’s confusion.

“So you’re Director Yan? I’ve heard so much about you!” Yu Xi exclaimed, for ‘The Rainy Night Butcher’ had earned over thirty million Taiwan dollars at the box office when it was released here. Though it wasn’t particularly outstanding among Hong Kong films, it still far surpassed many local Taiwanese movies.

“Mr. Yan’s new film, ‘Taxi Judge,’ is about to premiere. You should really learn from him,” Can said to Yu Xi. “Stop focusing on those messy things all the time, always insisting on doing everything yourself. That habit needs changing.”

“Mr. Yan, this guy hasn’t been directing for long. He used to be a horse groom, so he’s developed the habit of always trying out new girls himself whenever his crew gets one,” Can said with a chuckle.

“Director, everything’s ready. We can start filming,” a staff member interjected, prompting Yu Xi to leave with a smile plastered on his face.

Yan Xu, meanwhile, was intrigued by how a former horse groom could make movies. This fellow seemed to rival the future master of cinematography, Brother Xi—perhaps it was because their names both had the character ‘Xi.’

The film industry in Taiwan was even more chaotic than Hong Kong; truly, anyone could be found here. While Hong Kong’s criminal organizations at least tried to hide their involvement in cinema, here it was brazen. With the industry populated by such people, it was no wonder Taiwanese cinema languished for years, unable to develop. Only in the new century did a few notable films emerge: ‘Fried Chicken Hero,’ ‘Gangster Team,’ ‘Cape No. 7,’ ‘Cannot Live Without You,’ ‘Monga,’ ‘Deadly Party,’ ‘Those Years,’ and so on—all decent works.

“Is everything ready?” Despite his background as a horse groom, Yu Xi was quite professional when directing. After some coordination, the camera was moved outside the villa. Due to financial constraints, not only were the sets simple, but many roles were filled by the director himself.

“You, the stunt double, in a moment jump out from here, roll across the lawn, and slip between those two trees. Let’s try to get it in one take,” Yu Xi shouted through his megaphone to the stand-in on the second-floor windowsill.

“Huh?” Following Yu Xi’s instructions, Yan Xu glanced up at the window, curious to see how the scene would be shot. But as his gaze landed on the stand-in—who was just putting on a mask—he let out a quiet gasp of surprise. Though it was only for a moment, the young face seemed vaguely familiar.

“Come over here,” Yan Xu beckoned, calling over the staff member who had arranged everything.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” The staffer had noticed both Yu Xi and Brother Can smiling and catering to Yan Xu, so though he didn’t know his identity, he dared not be negligent.

“Who is your stunt actor?” Yan Xu asked.

“That kid? All I know is his surname is Wang—he’s from Hong Kong and has been in Taiwan only a few years. He’s a rookie martial artist, but bold as anything; he’ll tackle any dangerous stunt. He used to work as a painter on high-rise buildings, more than twenty floors up,” the staffer replied, eager to share what he knew.

Surname Wang, from Hong Kong, formerly a painter, now a martial artist—these details matched perfectly with the impression in Yan Xu’s mind.

As Yan Xu inquired, the stand-in finished a series of movements with agility. Yu Xi’s demands were child’s play to him.

“Hello, are you Wang Jie?” As the stand-in finished and stepped aside, Yan Xu approached directly. Though his features were youthful, the familiar face was unmistakable.

He had once been a superstar, a wandering bard of the music world. His hardships before debut were legendary; with over fifty albums and eighty million sales, he was among the industry’s elite. Until someone laced his water with mercury, ruining his voice, and contract disputes gradually pushed him from the music scene and public eye. Now, he only performed occasionally at concerts or commercial events.

“Who are you?” Wang Jie asked in confusion, unsure how this man knew his name. Life had made him somewhat withdrawn, and he was not talkative.

“I’m the chairman of Dragon Talent Management Company,” Yan Xu replied, handing his business card to Wang Jie. He wanted to recruit Wang Jie for his record company, but couldn’t simply invite him outright. After all, he had never heard Wang Jie sing in this era; such an invitation would seem insane or fraudulent. Since Wang Jie was now a stunt actor, he would secure him with a management contract first—once he entered the music scene, he would be a goldmine.

“Oh, hello!” Wang Jie took the card and examined it carefully, his expression calm. The entertainment industry was chaotic, and there were countless management companies. The only thing on the card that stirred him slightly was the word ‘Hong Kong’ before Dragon Talent Management Company.

Seeing Wang Jie’s reaction, Yan Xu realized he wasn’t familiar with his company, whose reputation in Hong Kong was modest, let alone in Taiwan.

“Perhaps you don’t know much about Dragon Talent Management. We’re a Hong Kong-based company, just founded less than a year ago, but already making a mark in the industry. Our current assets are about fifteen million Taiwan dollars, and we own our own office building, making us a mid-sized company. After a year’s development, we have many artists under our wing: Vivian Chow, winner of the Hong Kong Film Award for Best Movie Song, whose album sales in Hong Kong have exceeded 150,000; the Taiji Band, regarded as Hong Kong’s top rock group; and Wu Mengda, nominated for Best Actor at the Hong Kong Film Awards,” Yan Xu explained in detail to Wang Jie.