Brother Dao Took the Entertainment Industry by Storm, Fans Beg Me Not to Kill Anymore-Chapter 438: In the End, the Script Was Still Missed
The little episode in front of the hotel lobby didn’t bother many people.
Xiao Chen, who had already checked in, came back, glanced around, then somewhat regretfully lowered his gaze. “Okay, Brother Xiao, Sister Liu, we can check in now.”
“The assistant director said the final race scene can start filming the day after tomorrow. They’re going to cordon off a block on the adjacent street, and they’ll shoot on location there.”
“Wait—”
Xiao He’s attention shifted away from Han Jae-woo. He ran the hotel’s location and the “adjacent block” Xiao Chen mentioned through his head, swallowed, and said, “If I’m not mistaken, that adjacent block should be right in the city center, right? Surrounded by commercial centers, and Century Square—”
And you’re telling me the production team plans to cordon off that stretch of road and film the final scenes there?
Xiao He couldn’t imagine it, he really couldn’t.
Fast Speed Shadow 7 was pulling out such a grand move!
And that important traffic artery—if they close the road for filming, they’ll close the road. There could easily be huge crowds gathering on both sides to watch. Roughly speaking, their racing sequence would be filmed in front of all the American people.
The thought made Xiao He’s hands tremble.
Calm down, calm down, he had seen big scenes before, he shouldn’t chicken out now.
With that, Xiao He forced himself to calm down.
“Let’s go.”
Liu Rulan didn’t doubt Xiao He’s ability for a second.
Everyone participating in the shoot would be the real actors. Even Movens, who played the lead, was a legitimate race car driver and would actually drive on the road. Otherwise the Fast Speed Shadow series wouldn’t have filmed realistic racing sequences so smoothly.
Among those people, Xiao He happened to be the actor with the best driving skill, and among actual racers, he was also one of the best drivers.
So rather than worry about blatantly racing in front of the American public, Liu Rulan thought it might be better to bring their own team over to take some professional photos of Xiao He and then use them online for serious marketing.
She calmly motioned for Xiao Chen to lead the way, then turned to Xiao He and put some pressure on him: “We still have some time. This afternoon we’ll go check it out and confirm the route with the production. You must look handsome, cool, and cocky. Being able to openly race and show off in a foreign country in broad daylight—chances like this are rare in a lifetime. You have to seize it and get a bunch of blockbuster shots.”
Liu Rulan knew the production would be happy to help with anything that could assist their marketing.
After all, the domestic box office for their films relied partly on series nostalgia and partly on Xiao He’s fame. The crew might even help push things, getting Xiao He’s “blockbuster shots” back home for a strong marketing push.
Xiao He: “...I’ll try my best.”
The group arrived at the hotel rooms.
Same as always, Xiao Chen and Lao Qi went into the room to inspect, and finally Xiao He used his network detection device to check everything again before they relaxed and settled into the hotel rooms.
Lao Qi took the others’ luggage to different rooms. Xiao He pulled out his laptop and began checking the situation.
Xiao Chen busied himself organizing clothes in his suitcase, hanging a few items in order. Liu Rulan pulled a chair up beside Xiao He and, curious, peered at his screen.
Although she already knew about Xiao He’s abilities, seeing a completely unfamiliar world displayed before her intrigued Liu Rulan.
She leaned over to look. Xiao He didn’t mind. After tapping a few keys at the computer, he showed her: “There are already seven forces actively attacking Han Jae-woo. Looks like he’s not that popular in his own country after all.”
Actually, most of the online activity hadn’t been done personally by Xiao He.
At most, he had found the videos Han Jae-woo deleted and then circulated those clips on Korean websites to Han Jae-woo’s rivals, letting the other side handle the confrontation—dog-eat-dog.
When Han Jae-woo had recently won Best Actor, completing his domestic sweep, he had offended some people. Especially that unlucky guy who originally had a chance at Best Actor; because the capital wanted to craft the narrative of a sweep, that unlucky competitor had to bow out and became Han Jae-woo’s stepping stone.
Beyond that unlucky soul, there were naturally people who disliked Han Jae-woo. Coupled with the Twelve Sins script incident, Han’s peak fame provoked hidden hands to push at his reputation. It slowly escalated into what it was now.
As for Xiao He, who hid behind these provocations, he had kept a low profile—though not entirely invisible. After all, he was one of the involved parties. His fans were still trading barbs with Han Jae-woo’s fans online.
Whatever. The process didn’t matter, only the result.
“We don’t need to involve our insiders now. Let the company soothe the fans and tell them not to worry.”
Xiao He kept tapping keys, dug up a bunch of Han Jae-woo’s past dirt, and “rewarded” each brave whistleblower who’d stepped forward. He hoped these new pieces of evidence would encourage more people to come forward and hammer Han Jae-woo, letting his reputation rot.
“Aren’t you going to directly kill his script?” Liu Rulan had already figured out Xiao He’s plan and raised an eyebrow curiously.
“You mean the Twelve Sins script?” Xiao He tilted his head. “But I want to leave him that.”
Han Jae-woo’s upcoming performance in Twelve Sins would be similar to his role in Twelve Mirrors. Xiao He’s crafted image would clearly outshine Han Jae-woo’s, so let Han perform. With the comparison later, whoever looked worse would be embarrassed.
“I just feel a bit regretful,” Liu Rulan sighed wistfully. “If you had gotten the lead in Twelve Sins, it would have been easy to aim for foreign awards.”
A script like Twelve Sins seemed tailor-made for an actor like Xiao He.
Liu Rulan had gone through the trouble of acquiring the stage play script for Twelve Mirrors from the opera house with a sliver of hope that Xiao He could perform another miracle.
Unfortunately this time the miracle didn’t happen. Twelve Sins ultimately didn’t belong to them.
Xiao He, however, was rarer in his clarity than Liu Rulan: “We don’t have foreign connections. Whether it’s France or Hollywood, they wouldn’t pick me—a Chinese actor—to play their roles.”
“So Twelve Sins could never have been mine from the start. Especially now that it’s already been handed over to the American company, the chances I could climb aboard are even smaller.”
Sometimes “fit” simply isn’t the top criterion for selection.
Xiao He understood this very well. That was why he had given his all to perform well in Twelve Mirrors, yet never claimed anything about the Twelve Sins script.
Liu Rulan had never brought it up either.
She was silent for a moment, then said, “So in the end I still prefer staying domestic.”
Although the domestic entertainment industry was said to be in a slump, for an agent like her it made no practical difference. She could always find a way to get resources for Xiao He; abroad she had no leverage at all.
Xiao He smiled in agreement: “Actually, I like it too.”







