Chapter 82: When the Master Removes His Mask, He Becomes Even More Worthy of Our Devotion

Li Shixin’s filming schedule was rather tight. After sharing a simple breakfast with An Xiaoxiao, he headed out. Zhang Shuo was responsible for managing the extras in the crew, so he left even earlier. The filming location, the stadium, was right in the city, not far from Jianhong Community. Li Shixin decided to ride his three-wheeled scooter, wrapped An Xiaoxiao tightly in an old army coat like a dumpling, and placed her in the back compartment, pulling her straight to the set.

Along the way, An Xiaoxiao was absolutely thrilled. She had always been chauffeured to school by her father and had never experienced anything like this. Sitting in the back compartment, she couldn’t sit still. Her small face peeked from the army coat, waving at the unmoving stream of cars stuck in traffic at seven-thirty in the morning as if she were reviewing the troops.

The private car drivers along the route were irked—having spent tens or even hundreds of thousands on their vehicles, they found themselves outpaced by a three-wheeler. Not only that, but the girl in the back was prettier than any passenger in their own cars. Was there no justice left in the world?

Li Shixin found it amusing as well. When he first acquired the three-wheeler, he had imagined pulling a group of elderly ladies through town in the back compartment. But no matter how wild his imagination, he never expected his first passenger would be a vibrant, energetic young woman.

With the three-wheeler sputtering along energetically, they arrived at the set in high spirits. The scenes for the next few days centered on the interactions between Coach Liu and Qiao Hong. Li Shixin had rehearsed these parts in his mind many times and knew them well.

While An Xiaoxiao went off to do her makeup, he found a technical consultant in the crew to help him edit together footage from his previous audition, several standout videos from his time living at the landfill posted on Bilibili, and yesterday’s character styling photos and on-set pictures. After compiling, he uploaded them to Weibo.

Chen Antang had already agreed to use his team to drive traffic to Li Shixin’s Weibo account, so Li Shixin had to keep his content updated. Looking at his Weibo, which now included images of him as a beggar extra upon arriving in Rongdian, photos from his landfill experience, audition videos, and character styling shots, Li Shixin was quite satisfied. There was both elegance and vulnerability.

After updating his Weibo, Li Shixin stroked his stubbly white beard. Excellent. Truly, I am destined for great fame.

...

Meanwhile, at Rongcheng’s Third Garbage Sorting Plant.

Under the eight-thirty morning sun, Zhang Quandan crawled out of the bus he had tidied up and lived in for over a week. Most of the vagrants at the landfill, thanks to Li Shixin’s connections, had gone to the set to help the crew with manual labor. The place was much quieter than when Li Shixin was there.

Yet, though people had left, the tea had not grown cold. Since Zhang Quandan and Li Erchun settled at the landfill and decided to stay for a while, this desolate place had become rather advanced. On top of the bus where Li Erchun and Zhang Quandan lived, they installed solar panels, batteries, and light bulbs. The problems of electricity for computers and phones and evening lighting were solved.

The previously filthy central area of the junkyard, spanning several dozen square meters, was tidied up by the two new residents. They added a worn-out sofa, lounge chairs, a heater, dining table, and coffee table—items to make life more comfortable. The once rusted bus was painted in various colors, giving it a fresh look.

On what could be called the yard, Erchun, the lame stray dog adopted by Li Shixin, was playing wildly with a stray cat newly welcomed to the landfill, named Erdan by Zhang Quandan.

Looking at the landfill now, the former desolate wilderness was gone; instead, there was a sense of post-apocalyptic, reconstructed chic.

With a toothbrush between his teeth, squinting at the planes passing through the blue sky, Zhang Quandan stretched lazily. Having ditched his stressful job these days, he and Li Erchun had begun writing novels together at the landfill, feeling an unprecedented sense of leisure. Though income had temporarily dried up, his mind was at peace.

He finally had time to produce the detective series videos he’d been planning for years but never had the opportunity to make. He uploaded them to Bilibili, where they were quite popular, showing signs of becoming a major content creator.

“Quandan! Quandan, come quickly!” As Zhang Quandan wiped off toothpaste foam, he heard a shout from inside the bus.

“What’s up?” He replied loudly to Li Erchun’s call.

“Hurry up! Look! The old man, he’s made the news!” Hearing Li Erchun’s excited cry, Zhang Quandan immediately tossed aside his toothbrush and ran into the bus. He squeezed next to Li Erchun, who was still burrowed under the covers, and saw on the battered phone screen that the “master” who had drawn him to the landfill was speaking eloquently.

Like many others, Zhang Quandan was deeply moved by Li Shixin’s professional and scholarly discussion of acting. When Li Shixin became distraught after a call from his son, Zhang Quandan’s fists clenched tightly, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

Previously, he only knew Li Shixin was an actor. But he hadn’t realized that this elderly man, well past sixty, was gravely ill and believed his life was nearing its end—thus coming to Rongdian to try his luck.

“Erchun.” After a long time, Zhang Quandan wiped his tears and looked at his companion. “We need to do something for the master.”

Li Erchun, who had previously been inspired by Li Shixin, was also in tears. He may have been the first in the entire online community to be curious about Li Shixin’s background; at the time, he had even asked about the old man’s past, but Li Shixin had said nothing.

Now, through that video from Wenyi New Media, he learned that the wise and open-minded old man had endured so much hardship and suffering beneath his optimistic exterior.

Li Erchun couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yeah.” He nodded vigorously, recalling how, since the previous week when the old man had revealed his actor identity, ridicule and mockery of him had spread rapidly on Bilibili. He clenched his fists.

“We need to let those fools who think they’ve been duped know what kind of person the old man really is!”

“Say it! What should we do?!”

“Come on, give me the phone. Let’s record a video together!”

...

Shanghai.

Chen Antang, away on a business trip, immediately contacted his studio’s operations team upon receiving Li Shixin’s call.

He ordered the operations team to place traffic-driving messages, including Li Shixin’s Weibo link, on platforms that had published news of Li Shixin’s interview yesterday.

After considering, he hired five hundred paid commentators to flood several high-traffic video sites with Li Shixin’s interview news.

But.

An hour passed.

Two hours passed.

During work breaks, seeing Li Shixin’s Weibo follower count increase only marginally, Chen Antang shook his head helplessly.

(.-`_´-) Sigh...

Old man, old man, don’t say I didn’t do my part.

I’ve done what I could for you!

Just as Chen Antang was about to withdraw the paid commentators, thinking it was enough—

On Bilibili, a content creator named “A Bald Egg” posted a video titled, “Are you still joking about the wandering master? When the master removes his mask, he is even more worthy of our admiration!” Its views were rapidly skyrocketing!