Chapter 3 Are You the Director?

Qiu Dayong shuffled to the window in his flip-flops, still bleary-eyed from sleep, and peered down.

Below, a large crowd had gathered, busily filming a movie. The area was packed with lighting rigs and camera equipment. Qiu Dayong’s spirits soared instantly; he had never seen a film set up close in all his life.

Forgetting to wash up, he hurriedly threw on a jacket and rushed downstairs. He squeezed to the edge of the crowd, craning his neck, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Just then, a young man who looked like a production assistant noticed him. Frowning, he walked over and shooed him away. "Hey, what are you doing? Don't hang around here; you're disrupting our shoot."

Qiu Dayong quickly explained, "I live in the building upstairs. I just came down to take a look, I won't cause any trouble, I promise." But the young man was relentless, insisting on pushing him further away.

Qiu Dayong felt a flicker of annoyance, but not wanting to make a scene, he turned to leave. Just then, he heard the director shout from across the set, "Hey, we’re still short one extra. Anyone want to give it a try? It’s just a simple background role, just need you to show your face. Two hundred bucks once we wrap."

Hearing this, Qiu Dayong’s eyes lit up. Two hundred bucks! That was more than he could earn in a grueling day of food delivery. Without a second thought, he raised his hand and shouted, "Me! I'm willing to give it a try!"

The director looked him over. While Qiu Dayong was plain-looking and a bit disheveled, the director figured that for a background role, it wouldn't matter much. He waved his hand, signaling for Qiu to go change.

At this hour, the only people left watching the commotion were retirees, so Qiu Dayong was as good a candidate as any.

Surprisingly, once he put on the suit, Qiu Dayong’s entire demeanor seemed to shift. His usual unkempt appearance was masked, giving him an unexpected touch of rugged handsomeness.

The filming went smoothly. Impressed by his look, the director had Qiu take on a few other bit parts, adding another hundred to his pay. At noon, as the staff went to take a break, Qiu Dayong found himself with nothing to do. He sat in the director’s chair and idly picked up a script to read.

"What kind of nonsense is this? An orphan driving a sports car?" Qiu Dayong muttered to himself as he scanned the plot. Was the entertainment industry in this world really that pathetic? How could anyone write a script so detached from reality?

"Excuse me, are you the director?" Just as Qiu was lost in his critique of the script, a sophisticated female voice broke his concentration. He looked up instinctively to find a woman in a minimalist business suit standing before him. Her long hair fell softly over her shoulders like a black waterfall, and her face held a cold, aloof expression that only added to her unique air of elegance.

"Who are you?" Qiu Dayong asked, looking puzzled.

"Yang Ting. I’m the one who commissioned the script you’re holding. We had an appointment today to discuss filming this, didn't we?" The beautiful woman—no, Yang Ting—frowned slightly, her tone laced with dissatisfaction.

"The budget is one million. Can you shoot it or not? If not, I’ll find someone else."

"Oh, my goodness! It’s Ms. Yang! My apologies, please, please, let’s go to the cafe next door to discuss the details." Qiu Dayong hadn't paid much attention at first, but the mention of a million-dollar budget made his eyes gleam. Without another word, he enthusiastically ushered Yang Ting toward the nearby cafe.

Despite his usual down-and-out appearance, dressed in the film crew’s suit and clutching the script while lounging in the director’s chair, he actually managed to carry a faint air of authority and professional flair.