Chapter 22: Investment

The long-abandoned village lay under a dusky sky, as a group of young men and women fled in panic along the dirt road. Behind them, a figure dressed in black—hat, mask, and all—pursued relentlessly, a blood-stained dagger in hand.

One of the young men in the group suddenly stumbled and fell. The others hesitated, wanting to help him up, but the pursuer was already too close—they had no choice but to keep running. Left on the ground, the fallen youth’s face twisted in despair as the black-clad figure closed in. The sharp blade plunged through his chest. The young man collapsed, breath fading from his body.

“Cut!” Director Wang called out.

Wu Miao reached out to help Mo Fei, who was still lying on the ground, and pulled him up with a smile. “Sorry about that—killed you once.”

Mo Fei, prop dagger still stuck in his chest, waved it off casually. “The sooner I die, the sooner I’m free.”

After all, he was still waiting for Director Wang’s end-of-shooting bonus.

At that moment, Director Wang sat before the monitor, watching the footage and sinking into thought. By the standards of his usual fast-paced shoots, this take was already good enough, but something still felt off.

In the final scene, when Mo Fei is stabbed after falling, he certainly shouldn’t have a foolish grin on his face. And yet, he couldn’t quite suppress the brooding aura he naturally carried, making it seem implausible that his character would die so easily. Even Director Wang, just watching, was tempted to give him a new backstory—making him an accomplice to the protagonist would make perfect sense.

Once that thought took root, it spread like wildfire, impossible to extinguish.

Director Wang called over the screenwriter and shared his idea: “We don’t need to reshoot much—just a few close-ups, and add one shot at the end where both appear together in front of the heroine. There you have it—the accomplice.”

The screenwriter agreed. It only meant Mo Fei would have to work one more day; in fact, he ought to thank them.

The screenwriter hurriedly began revising the script.

Director Wang broke the news about the changed scenes to the cast, just as Mo Fei had been eagerly awaiting his wrap-up bonus. Now, with his character only faking death, there would be no bonus, and he’d be stuck working an extra day for nothing.

The smile slowly faded from Mo Fei’s face.

Wu Miao, meanwhile, cheerfully congratulated him: “Looks like we’ll be colleagues for another day, hahaha…”

His laughter died away under Mo Fei’s emotionless gaze.

Although Wu Miao had the highest status among the actors, at heart he was just a regular guy who could get scared. Even a film emperor—faced with someone radiating such an ominous aura—would probably be unnerved.

Director Wang noticed Mo Fei’s expression and was actually quite pleased. “Not bad, Xiao Mo, you’re getting into character fast.”

“Good work today. Keep it up tomorrow.”

Today had gone without incident on set—no mangled bodies, no police, everything back on track. Director Wang was satisfied.

Mo Fei did the math. Not only had his workload suddenly increased, but he’d also lost out on a bonus.

A total loss.

In stark contrast was Lu Chunqiu. Upon learning her client was still employed and unlikely to be out of work any time soon, she was elated, promising to take him out for seafood buffet.

Wu Miao watched as the man who had exuded gloom only moments ago seemed to light up at the mention of seafood, and couldn’t help but admire the speed at which he could change expressions—truly the mark of a great actor.

After exchanging a few words, Lu Chunqiu and Mo Fei headed out of the shooting area, only to be stopped by a stranger. “Mr. Mo, hello. Our boss would like to meet you.”

Mo Fei and Lu Chunqiu exchanged a glance, both equally baffled.

“May I ask who your boss is?” Lu Chunqiu asked cautiously.

The man paused, maintaining a polite smile. “You’ll know when you get there.” His boss hadn’t said whether he could reveal his identity, so better to say less than more—not saying anything couldn’t be wrong.

“Why should I go meet someone when I don’t even know who it is?” Mo Fei protested. “I’m not going.”

With that, he dragged Lu Chunqiu around the man and kept walking, muttering, “What kind of person is this, getting in the way of my dinner.”

The man stood there for a moment, then decided to call his boss.

A calm male voice answered, “How did it go?”

“They refused to come,” the man reported truthfully.

His boss sounded displeased. “If they won’t come, just bring him over—do I have to spell everything out?”

“That’s illegal, boss,” the man reminded him. “Besides, that guy’s handy with a blade—I’m afraid he’ll stab me.”

There was a brief silence, then: “Just say I want to discuss business and bring him to the restaurant.”

“Can I tell them your identity?” the man asked. “These days, even eight-year-olds know not to go off with strangers.”

“You can.”

With those two words, the boss hung up.

Dealing with a boss who seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, the man felt a bit weary.

Still, this was the one signing his paychecks—so he pulled himself together.

He caught up with Mo Fei and Lu Chunqiu, smiling more broadly. “Our boss would like to discuss a business collaboration with you both—please, give us the honor.”

Lu Chunqiu always handled business matters. She eyed the man skeptically. “Who exactly is your boss?”

“Ji Xingjian,” the man replied sincerely. “You can look him up online.”

Lu Chunqiu, half-convinced, typed his name into a search engine. Sure enough, she found Ji Xingjian’s profile: an entrepreneur in his early forties with several well-known clothing brands under his name.

“But I don’t even know him—why would he want to work with us?” Lu Chunqiu was puzzled. She turned to Mo Fei, “Do you know him?”

Mo Fei shook his head blankly.

All he knew was that he was about to get more work again.

He hadn’t even used up his savings—he didn’t want to work yet.

“Well…” The man was momentarily at a loss for words. “You’ll understand once you meet.”

“Our boss has already reserved a table at the restaurant—he’s waiting for you.”

“But we don’t even know your boss. Isn’t it a bit rude to just ask us over out of the blue?” Lu Chunqiu frowned. They may have been struggling actors and agents, but life went on—there was no need to bother with such odd requests.

Mo Fei nodded in agreement. “Exactly.”

“Ahem.” The man cleared his throat to ease the awkwardness. “There’s no need for concern—we do legitimate business, and simply wish to discuss a potential collaboration over a meal.”

If only the boss weren’t so stubborn about not sending a formal invitation—things wouldn’t be so complicated.

Lu Chunqiu thought it over, then asked Mo Fei, “What about you? What do you think?”

Mo Fei shook his head. “Up to you. If you don’t want to go, we won’t. If you do, I’ll go with you.”

He lifted the U-lock in his hand. “If he really wants to talk business, all’s well. If not, I’ll give him a whack with the lock while you run for it.”

Lu Chunqiu was both touched and a little alarmed. “Where did you even learn that, kid…”

“All right,” she finally agreed. If, as the man claimed, it was just about business, they had no reason not to go.

And if it was anything shady…then Mo Fei could take care of it—with the lock!