Chapter Fourteen: Then Let Me Give You a Chance to Fulfill Your Filial Duty
Chapter 14
Li Shixin was conflicted as he held a handful of suppositories. Having just witnessed the system conjure items out of thin air, he had no doubt about the quality of anything exchanged from it. Medicine, without question, was good medicine. Yet, the appearance was anything but dignified.
Though he had never studied medicine, Li Shixin knew well enough that, for elderly people suffering from weakened stomach, liver, or kidney function, suppositories absorbed directly through the rectum were the most effective. Scientifically speaking, the medicine was reliable. But psychologically, he simply couldn’t get past the hurdle of inserting anything into his own backside.
…
After thoroughly researching the effects of the peak chewing gum he won from the system lottery in his room, Li Shixin took his room card and stepped outside.
His current residence was nothing more than a guesthouse. The city of Rong, thriving thanks to its booming film industry, had a bustling tourism sector. Guesthouses and inns dotted every corner; many were just a few rooms in someone’s home, refurbished and rented out.
By the time he descended the stairs, the young girl at the front desk had vanished, replaced by a woman in her thirties, eating instant noodles while scrolling through her phone.
Seeing Li Shixin, the woman glanced up. “Which room is the old man in?”
Li Shixin, hands clasped behind his back, eyed her eating habits and smiled. “404.”
“Oh, just the person I needed to find. You only paid for one night yesterday. If you want to stay longer, you’ll need to pay again—still three hundred eighty a day.”
Rong wasn’t large, but its developed film industry had driven prices sky-high. Especially when it came to food and lodging. In Tiancheng, where Li Shixin used to live, a guesthouse was about two hundred a night; here, it was nearly double. Meals were even worse. He ate on set yesterday and didn’t spend anything, but on his first day, he saw a simple bowl of millet porridge costing six yuan at a small porridge shop. Li Shixin realized that, if his acting career didn’t go well, his seven thousand yuan wouldn’t last long.
After a brief consideration, Li Shixin waved his hand at the front desk. “No need. I’ll be moving out today.”
“So you’re checking out now? Do you need help tidying up?”
“Thank you, someone will come to clean up soon.”
Leaving the guesthouse for the street, Li Shixin breathed in the crisp air of early autumn. Migratory birds soared leisurely overhead; willows by the roadside were draped in sparkling dewdrops; street vendors shouted energetically.
As the morning sun rose, the city awoke.
After enjoying the fresh air for a while, Li Shixin took out his elderly phone, scrolled through his contacts, and dialed the most recent number.
The call was quickly answered.
A sleepy voice came from the other end: “Hello? Who is this?”
“Hehehe, Group Leader, it’s me!”
…
About half an hour later, Li Shixin arrived by bus at the address Zhang Shuo had given him over the phone.
It was a breakfast shop. Small, with a simple menu posted on the walls—just steamed buns, tea eggs, millet porridge, and small salty dishes—but business was brisk.
By seven thirty, the sixty-square-meter shop was packed with patrons.
Spotting Zhang Shuo cradling a bowl of porridge among the crowd, Li Shixin chuckled and walked over.
“Oh, you’re here, old man! Have you eaten?” Zhang Shuo greeted him stiffly.
Li Shixin called over a server, ordered plain porridge and salty vegetables, then cheerily asked Zhang Shuo, “Young man, why aren’t you working today?”
Li Shixin had learned on the phone that Zhang Shuo wasn’t working today, so he’d asked for his address and come over.
“Ah,” Zhang Shuo wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve, frustrated, “It’s all because of you! After what happened at the set yesterday, I heard Liu Xin even brought in the investors. To prevent things from escalating and affecting Liu Xin, and to avoid entertainment reporters and the media, the whole crew is taking a break today! Not only that, Director Guan called me personally and told me not to show up for a few days, so the tabloids don’t get a hold of it… Old man, with this break, I’ve lost my livelihood. You really screwed me over!”
Li Shixin nodded calmly at Zhang Shuo’s complaints. No wonder Deputy Director Guan Lan was so wary of Liu Xin; it seemed Liu Xin’s status with the investors was formidable.
“So, if I want to get back into the crew and act, what should I do now?” Li Shixin asked after a moment’s silence.
Hearing this, Zhang Shuo slapped his thigh. “You’d best forget it! Your incident with Liu Xin is all over the internet! I’m not trying to scare you—just coming to Rong without any background and causing such a stir right away… Forget about standing your ground here, you might even get ambushed by someone! Take my advice and keep a low profile for now!”
Li Shixin smiled without saying a word.
Seeing Li Shixin’s unconcerned expression, Zhang Shuo hesitated. “Old man, you really want to act?”
Li Shixin nodded.
“Ah,” Zhang Shuo tilted his head, “Fine, I see now—you’re just a stubborn old man.”
With that, Zhang Shuo began to explain the rules of Rong to Li Shixin.
Actually, Li Shixin’s opportunity to join the crew yesterday was entirely thanks to a bit of opportunism.
In Rong, anyone wanting to join a crew and act must first register with the Actors’ Guild and obtain an actor’s certificate before joining. These certificates are graded; the guild here issues two kinds: background actors and special actors.
Background actors, as the name implies, are extras with no screen time, playing corpses or blending into the scenery. In trade jargon, they’re called “temporary extras,” while in Hong Kong, they’re known as passers-by or “kale.” Their roles in productions are hardly more valuable than props. Their wages are the lowest—one hundred to one hundred fifty a day. If they’re cast as a corpse, carrying a coffin, dying from gunshot, or filming unlucky scenes like lying in a puddle as a corpse or getting drenched, the crew might throw in an extra fifty as a bonus.
Special actors fare better. Usually, they are recommended by group leaders or the guild to the crew, and get screen time or lines, though not many. Still, it’s considered a step into the profession. Their pay rises accordingly—three to five hundred a day, and fifty for each line.
Yesterday, when Guan Lan paid Li Shixin three hundred at the end of the day, it was based on that standard.
But in Li Shixin’s current unregistered status, other group leaders wouldn’t dare hire him, and crews generally wouldn’t accept him.
Because the crew can’t sign a temporary contract.
Aside from the issue of regulations, if an actor had an accident during filming, there would be no way to resolve it.
After listening to Zhang Shuo, Li Shixin understood.
“So you’re free today, then?”
Zhang Shuo was taken aback by Li Shixin’s leap in logic. “Uh, yeah.”
“Perfect, young man. Since you have nothing to do, help me register at the guild.”
“What?!” Zhang Shuo’s face fell instantly. “Old man, we’re not related, you’re not my father…”
He stopped mid-sentence, intimidated by Li Shixin’s inscrutable smile.
“Young man, tell me—if I told people outside that yesterday I colluded with you to stage the incident with Liu Xin at the set, would you still be able to survive in Rong?”
A cold sweat broke out across Zhang Shuo’s back.
“Old man, you can talk nonsense about food, but not about this!” He quickly covered Li Shixin’s mouth.
But the old man brushed his hand aside. “That video last night—you leaked it, didn’t you?”
Suddenly, Zhang Shuo’s hair stood on end.
“Old man, you—!”
He wanted to protest, but seeing Li Shixin’s calm, all-seeing gaze, he wilted.
“Old man, have mercy! To tell you the truth, I’ve always felt close to elderly people. Really! My father passed away early. When I see you, I… I feel like I’m seeing my father! Honestly, I think fate brought us together!”
“In that case, your chance to make up for regrets and fulfill filial duty has come.”
Li Shixin stretched his arms and smiled kindly, like a spring breeze.