Chapter Fifty-One: The Traveler’s Innate Fortune

"Hey... you there, brother." Chen Qi called out from a distance.

The man with the cropped hair turned instinctively at the sound, pausing in confusion when he saw Chen Qi hurrying toward him.

"Are you talking to me?" He pointed at himself as he asked.

"Yes, I'm calling you." Chen Qi jogged up and stopped in front of him, asking, "Are you here... looking for a part in a film?"

The cropped-haired man gave him a puzzled glance, clearly unsure of Chen Qi's intent, but he nodded nonetheless.

"I have a small role here—would you be interested?" Chen Qi asked.

It suddenly occurred to him that while Wang Dachui didn't suit this man, there were plenty of other supporting roles he could offer. He needed people for those roles anyway, so why not give him a chance? At the very least, the fact that this man was still working on improving himself in these circumstances deserved a small opportunity.

Hearing Chen Qi's offer, the man was taken aback, sizing him up with some suspicion but not showing any particular reaction. Of course he was interested—he'd been reduced to looking for parts in a place like this; what was there to be picky about? The only question was, could this young man really offer a role?

After a few moments' hesitation, he nodded and asked, "When?"

"We're still preparing, so it might be a few more days," Chen Qi replied. "Could you give me your number? I'll get in touch when everything's ready."

"Sure!" The cropped-haired man gave his number right away, not forgetting to introduce himself. "My name's Zhao Wu—I graduated from the Film Academy."

Chen Qi was surprised, looking at him in astonishment. "The Film Academy?"

Zhao Wu nodded. "Graduated years ago."

"Then how did you..." Chen Qi started to ask but stopped himself. Better not to bring up anything that might embarrass him. Whatever the reason for Zhao Wu's current situation, the result was plain to see.

He suddenly recalled an analysis he'd read, which said that only a tiny fraction of Film Academy students ever made a living in the industry. If even one person from a class became truly famous, it was considered a high success rate.

"Acting hasn't been my main job for a long time," Zhao Wu volunteered, sensing Chen Qi's confusion. "I just love acting, so I use my spare time to pick up a few roles and indulge my passion."

"Oh..." Chen Qi understood and didn't press further. "Alright, I'll contact you later—shouldn't be more than a week at the latest."

With that, he waved and turned to leave.

Behind him, Zhao Wu, who had been curious to ask what kind of project it was, swallowed the question as he watched Chen Qi walk away.

"Hmm?" After a few steps, Chen Qi suddenly stopped, feeling as if he'd missed something. The Film Academy? The Film Academy?!

He snapped back to his senses. Wasn't he just looking for people? Zhao Wu from the Film Academy was a walking treasure trove of contacts! He almost wanted to cry at his own stupidity.

"Brother Zhao!" he called out urgently.

Zhao Wu, just about to leave, turned back, puzzled.

"Do you have any classmates still in the capital who can or still want to act?" Chen Qi hurried over.

Zhao Wu hesitated, then nodded. "There are a few, but the ones I'm still in touch with aren't famous—and many, like me, have long since made acting a side job or a hobby."

Chen Qi immediately brightened. "Perfect! My crew is small and broke—I only want unknowns. I wouldn't dare hire anyone famous!"

"Your crew?" Zhao Wu looked at him in surprise. So young, and already running his own crew? Was he the privileged son of a tycoon or a celebrity?

"That's right, I'm preparing to shoot a mini comedy series, and I still need a lead actor," Chen Qi said directly, getting to the point. "Could you introduce your classmates to me?"

"A mini-series? A lead role?" Zhao Wu was momentarily stunned, but quickly agreed. "Sure, I'll contact them now. Any specific requirements?"

"Uh..." Chen Qi hesitated for a few seconds, a little embarrassed. "I don't really know how to put it—I'll have to meet them to tell for sure."

"Alright, actually, I have a classmate shooting a project right here. Want to take a look?" Zhao Wu suggested, pointing toward the film lot behind him.

He didn't find Chen Qi's explanation odd at all—wasn't it normal? Even big productions audition their leads to find the best fit.

"Right here? Let’s go!" Chen Qi decided on the spot.

If nothing else, the Film Academy’s golden reputation was enough to make the trip worthwhile. Anyone from such a professional background would at least have solid acting fundamentals.

They entered the film lot, with Zhao Wu making calls as they wove through the complex. After quite a walk, they stopped in front of a large courtyard.

"He's shooting in here. Wait a moment."

Chen Qi nodded, waiting patiently.

On the way, he’d learned that although Zhao Wu’s classmates had mostly left acting as a profession, few had really left the industry. Perhaps because of their training, even if they no longer performed, most had shifted to related fields—voice acting, stage management, props, lighting—though a rare few still clung to acting roles.

The one Zhao Wu was about to introduce was one of those still struggling as an actor. Since graduation, he'd racked up hundreds of roles, though almost all were background parts or bit players with a line or two. These were marginally better than being an extra, but still amounted to little. Hardly anyone recognized them, and they hadn't even become familiar faces to the audience.

Zhao Wu himself had been one of those struggling until half a year ago, but eventually he faced reality and gave up the elusive dream. In his own words, after years of fighting, it was time to wake up—he couldn’t go on forever. He now worked doing post-production dubbing for a film crew, but whether out of lingering dissatisfaction or pure love for acting, he still habitually dropped by film sets when he had spare time, hoping to stumble on an interesting role.

Chen Qi had been puzzled—Zhao Wu handled post-production dubbing, which meant he should have some connections, right? Surely he could easily land a bit part if nothing else? But Zhao Wu said he felt embarrassed to ask for such a trivial role—it paid so little, barely a hundred yuan a day, not worth the favor.

At first, Chen Qi was taken aback, but thinking it over, he understood. If it were a good part, maybe it would be worth asking, but for something so cheap, it just wasn't worth the trouble.

After a short wait, a man in ancient costume hurried out of the courtyard.

"Here he comes!" Zhao Wu, anxious from waiting, quickly let Chen Qi know.

Chen Qi looked up and his eyes lit up slightly. Perhaps it was the costume, but the man’s current look seemed a perfect fit for the character Wang Dachui in his script.

"What’s the rush?" the newcomer asked Zhao Wu, glancing at him with a questioning look and not noticing Chen Qi at his side.

Zhao Wu pointed at Chen Qi. "This gentleman here is looking for a lead for a mini-series. I brought him to see if you might be a good fit."

Hearing himself called "boss," Chen Qi couldn't help but feel awkward. But this wasn't the time to get bogged down. He reached out politely and said, "Hello, I'm Chen Qi."

Perhaps because he’d heard that Chen Qi was both the boss and casting for a lead, the man in costume was a little surprised, but quickly shook his hand. "Hello, I’m Bai Xiaoke—my stage name, of course."

"Bai Xiaoke?" The name made Chen Qi's expression turn odd. Was this a coincidence, or fate? The actor who played Wang Dachui in the original series was Bai Ke, and now this man’s name was Bai Xiaoke? Was this destiny at work? Nonsense!

"Here's the thing—I’m looking for a lead for a mini-series. Interested?" Chen Qi asked.

"Yes! Absolutely!" The word "lead" clearly had a powerful allure, and Bai Xiaoke was visibly delighted. Even if it was just a mini-series, a lead was a lead. This was his first time playing the main role. Perhaps... it would be the only time in his life.

"Can you do a couple of expressions for me right now?" Chen Qi asked.

"Of course," Bai Xiaoke replied eagerly.

So Chen Qi had him try out expressions—blank, surprised, world-weary, and so on. The results were surprisingly good; there was real potential to be tapped.

At that moment, Chen Qi felt his luck was truly extraordinary! He’d come here on a whim, and actually found an actor who fit the part perfectly. Could this be the mysterious good fortune that comes with crossing worlds?

After Bai Xiaoke finished the expressions, he looked at Chen Qi with anticipation—and a hint of nervousness in his eyes. Zhao Wu was also watching Chen Qi without blinking. Whether or not this man was reliable, a lead role was the kind of opportunity they could only dream of.

"Excellent!" Sensing their stares, Chen Qi smiled and nodded. "Those expressions matched my idea of the character very well."

"Really?" Bai Xiaoke looked at him in delight.

"Of course." Chen Qi nodded. "How much are you getting paid per day for this job?"

"About two hundred."

"Alright, I’ll pay you three hundred a day, for up to half a month. Even if filming wraps early, I’ll settle your pay as if you worked the full period."