Chapter 61: Passionate Filming

Qian Modo was truly deserving of his reputation as someone who had worked with Ma Jun for a while. He was in the midst of a meeting, laying out the next five-year plan, when Ma Jun called. He apologized to the attendees, stepped outside, and without hesitation said, “She’s the top star at a small talent agency. I’ve got deeper intel—Gu Xin and the boss’s younger brother have a rather ambiguous relationship.”

“Mm,” Ma Jun nodded. “That girl seems to have some attitude toward me. Why don’t you give her boss a heads-up so she doesn’t cause trouble? She’s getting on my nerves!”

After experiencing several different worlds, Ma Jun had become quite relaxed about these matters. If a youngster misbehaved, let the adults handle it. If she turned out to be a real troublemaker, then he’d just kick her out.

That afternoon, upon returning home, Ma Jun didn’t waste words. He turned on his computer and logged in for some gaming. With a month-long holiday ahead, he fully intended to unwind.

He planned to rest well this time, finish shooting the current drama, then head to work in another world. As for whether the young actress would throw a tantrum—that was something he actually enjoyed.

Ma Jun’s internal strength had accumulated over eight years now, and combined with his original special forces skills, his physical abilities had greatly improved, surpassing ordinary people. With such stamina and reflexes, games came easily to him; he was no longer the rookie he once was.

“Ruan Xinyue, bring me noodles!”

He played until nearly six in the evening, then washed his face, smoked a cigarette, and shuffled from his study in slippers to the living room. He plopped down on the sofa, feet up, and called out loudly.

Ruan Xinyue, wearing a cozy fuzzy long dress, glasses slipping down her nose and her hair tousled, burst from her room and stared at Ma Jun. “What did you say?”

“It’s dinner time—bring me noodles!” Ma Jun looked at his assistant with a mischievous smile.

“Eat your own damn noodles!” Ruan Xinyue screamed inwardly, glaring fiercely at him. “I don’t know how to cook! With all your money, Jun, can’t you hire a chef or a housekeeper?”

“Oh,” Ma Jun responded, pretending to realize something. “So you’re afraid your noodles will turn out black and you’re embarrassed to show me? Guess I’ll order takeout, then. But someone as wealthy as me ordering takeout doesn’t seem right. Tomorrow, I’ll have Old Qian hire a housekeeper for me!”

Ruan Xinyue snorted like an angry bull, nostrils flaring, fists clenched as she glared at him for a long moment before storming off. She silently encouraged herself: “Endure it, I must endure. Only those who withstand hardship rise above others. If he only makes verbal jokes, fine; but if he tries anything, I’ll make him regret it!”

Soon after, Ma Jun had security go out and buy dinner, making sure to bring enough for everyone.

After eating, Ma Jun returned to his study and picked up the script, reading it carefully. Tomorrow was the first scene, and as the second male lead, he had lines.

In most film crews, unless you’re a major star, you have to go through the waiting process for your scenes. There’s a detailed shooting schedule, but with actors performing differently each time, no one can predict exactly when a scene will wrap. As soon as one finishes, others must be ready to jump in, sometimes waiting for hours for their turn.

TV dramas are a bit easier—the demands aren’t as high, and if the director doesn’t insist, a scene can be done quickly. Movies are much tougher.

Moreover, in the domestic industry, filming hours often run day and night, shooting until three or four in the morning is commonplace.

Therefore, skilled actors possess a remarkable ability: to fall asleep instantly. Even ten or five minutes of rest counts. When someone calls, they wake up immediately, fully alert.

To avoid delays, Qian Modo had already given advance notice to the director to prioritize Ma Jun’s scenes.

The next morning, Ma Jun led his usual team to the filming location. Along the way, Ruan Xinyue stopped at a shop to buy breakfast and snacks for the crew.

Even if you’re a big-name star, veteran crew members can make life difficult for you if offended. To fans, stars are high and mighty, but to industry insiders, all their scandals and ugly faces under the mask are no secret.

There’s an old saying: it’s easier to deal with gods than with little devils. Crude as it may be, the logic stands. No matter how successful you are, some respect your hard work, but they won’t fawn over you like lapdogs.

At the set, Ma Jun greeted the crowd with a big smile and headed to his dressing room, where two makeup artists quickly prepared him for his role.

Ruan Xinyue carried several bags, followed by two bodyguards laden with breakfasts, handing them out one by one to the crew.

Once makeup and costume were done, Ma Jun took some snacks intended for the leads and personally delivered them.

Wu Zhuoran, Wang Jingwen, and Gu Xin sat together. When Ma Jun approached, they smiled and greeted him.

“Hey, Ma Jun, we were just thinking about something to eat and here you are!” Wu Zhuoran said cheerfully, eagerly grabbing a bag and opening it.

Wang Jingwen, equally friendly, took a couple of bites. “You’re something else—us actresses have to keep our figures. With all these treats, I can only look, not eat!”

Ma Jun didn’t address Gu Xin directly, but she smiled as if nothing had happened the day before. “Jun, I love blueberries. Give me a bag—I want to try them. Next time, I’ll bring you the famous pork knuckle from Yun Gui Fang. You have to queue every day to get one; my assistant waited ages for it!”

Wu Zhuoran looked slightly surprised. He hadn’t expected Gu Xin, who’d acted like a prima donna yesterday, proud as a peacock, to change her attitude so quickly.

“It seems Ma Jun really has some connections. Just a freshman, yet he landed a major role in this show, and his team is impressive. Even that luxury van—I’m at my peak and can’t afford one myself.”

Wang Jingwen, having previously collaborated with Ma Jun on rumors, knew something of his company’s influence. Their clash with Blue Sea Sky, another industry heavyweight, had left that company reeling. For the company to value him so highly, his background must be extraordinary.

“Is that so?” Ma Jun smiled at Gu Xin and nodded. “Thanks, then. Here you go.” He handed her the bag.

Gu Xin didn’t take offense at Ma Jun’s lack of warmth, instead chattering away enthusiastically. Clearly, she had some skill.

In the days that followed, Ma Jun proved popular with everyone on set, from the producer down to the guy delivering meals. Everyone greeted him warmly. He was the picture of good relationships.

With this atmosphere, shooting progressed rapidly.

In the blink of an eye, three months passed, and “Silent Blooms” wrapped. The crew celebrated with a farewell meal and went their separate ways.

During this period, Ma Jun often slipped into the Deer Cauldron world to spend time with his little wife. Mu Jianping was frequently bewildered, unable to understand why her husband would suddenly kiss her every few seconds.

The young actress watched dramas every day; whenever she finished a series, she’d urge Ma Jun to tackle a new world.

At last, Ma Jun was ready to embark on another adventure. This time, the journey would transform his plundering enterprise completely—the moment he had waited for had finally arrived!