This director only directs blockbusters.

After filming for seven days, everyone in the crew had gotten a tan.

The sun in South Africa is so strong that even applying sunscreen three times isn't enough. Deng Chao's nose is peeling from sunburn, and he screams when touched.

Nicholas Tse, on the other hand, seemed to get more energetic the more he tanned, his skin becoming shiny black, making him look like a real mercenary standing in front of the camera.

Li Binbin got smarter; every day after work, she would apply a face mask first thing at the hotel, followed by a thick layer of aloe vera gel. Gao Yuanyuan followed her example, and the two often visited each other in the evenings to exchange skincare tips.

It's a night shoot today.

At 8 p.m., Johannesburg’s old neighborhoods have completely transformed.

The dilapidated streets, which looked run-down during the day, were transformed into another world by the lighting crew.

Several large lights shone down from the rooftop, illuminating the entire street as brightly as daytime, but the light had a color, a dim yellow tinged with blue, like the last day before the apocalypse in a movie.

Yang Ning stood behind the monitor, staring at the screen.

Tonight's scene is the most difficult in the entire film—Zhao Feng drives into the enemy camp to rescue people, while Leng Yue sits in the passenger seat and provides cover fire.

The car is moving, the people are moving, and the camera is moving too; it's a single, continuous shot, lasting three minutes and forty seconds.

Chen Qiming has been complaining for three days: "Director Yang, this shot is too difficult. The car is shaking so badly that the focus can't keep up at all."

"Then use your hands," Yang Ning said. "Didn't you use your hands to fight the battle on the city walls in 'Zixiao' back in the day?"

"That's different!" Chen Qiming exclaimed anxiously, "The city walls are inanimate, but the carts are movable!"

Yang Ning patted him on the shoulder: "That's what makes it interesting."

At this moment, Chen Qiming was squatting on the modified camera vehicle, his face tense.

The camera vehicle was a modified pickup truck with a frame welded to the back, allowing people to lie on it to take pictures.

Chen Qiming is lying there now, with the camera pointed at the car in front.

Nicholas Tse and Li Binbin had already gotten into the car. Nicholas Tse gripped the steering wheel, his face expressionless. Li Binbin sat in the passenger seat, holding a prop gun, taking a deep breath.

"Cold Moon." Yang Ning picked up the walkie-talkie.

"Hmm?" Li Binbin's voice came through the earphone.

"Don't blink when you fire."

Why?

"Because you've trained for three months, you shouldn't be afraid of gunfire," Yang Ning said. "A truly fearless person keeps their eyes open when a gun goes off."

Li Binbin was silent for two seconds: "I understand."

"Action!"

Both cars sped off at the same time.

Nicholas Tse's car was in front, with the camera car following closely behind. The streetlights on both sides rushed past, and the wheels rolled over the road, kicking up clouds of dust.

In the shot, Nicholas Tse's face is illuminated by the light from his watch face, his eyes sharply fixed ahead. Li Binbin, turned to the window, raises his gun and aims—Bang!

She didn't blink.

"Okay!" Yang Ning shouted, "Continue!"

The car turned into a narrow alley. On both sides of the alley were dilapidated buildings with dark, gaping windows that seemed to watch like countless eyes. The camera car slowed down, and Chen Qiming's lens moved in from the side, aiming at the interior of the car.

Nicholas Tse turned the steering wheel, and the car almost brushed against the wall. Li Binbin swayed slightly, but didn't lower the gun in his hand.

"Beautiful!" Old Xu shouted from the side.

The third bend, the fourth bend, the fifth bend—every bend was navigated cleanly and precisely, every shot was incredibly steady.

There was a problem at the sixth bend.

Just as Nicholas Tse's car turned the corner, a local pickup truck suddenly rushed out of a nearby alley. The driver was clearly stunned and stood there motionless.

Nicholas Tse jerked the steering wheel, the car almost grazing the pickup truck. Li Binbin slammed into the car door, letting out a muffled groan.

"Cut!" Yang Ning shouted.

Everyone rushed over.

Nicholas Tse had already gotten out of the car and was standing next to the pickup truck, talking to the driver in English. The driver was a young black man in his early twenties, his face pale, and he kept apologizing.

Li Binbin got out of the car, rubbing his arm. Yang Ning walked over: "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." She moved around a bit. "I bumped into something, it's nothing serious."

"Sure?"

"I'm sure." She smiled. "It was much less severe than the fall I took during training."

Yang Ning looked at Nicholas Tse. Nicholas Tse had finished and walked over: "Director Yang, is that scene usable?"

Which section?

"The part where I had to dodge," Nicholas Tse said, "the camera should have captured me when I dodged."

Yang Ning walked back to the monitor and rewound the footage from before.

In the scene, Nicholas Tse's car turns a corner and suddenly notices the pickup truck. He reacts instantly, swerves, the car tilts, and Li Binbin crashes into the door—the whole process takes less than two seconds, but every frame is breathtaking.

"This..." Yang Ning stared at the screen, "is better than the design."

Chen Qiming leaned over to look: "Holy crap, this shot is amazing! That real tension is something you can't fake."

Yang Ning looked up at Nicholas Tse.

Nicholas Tse stood there, his face expressionless, but the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned.

"Okay," Yang Ning said. "Keep this part. Continue filming."

---

Over the next two hours, we finished filming the remaining footage.

It was almost midnight when we finished work. Everyone was exhausted, and they were a bit slow in packing up the equipment.

Li Binbin sat by the roadside, looking up at the sky. The South African night sky was exceptionally clear, with countless stars scattered like a handful of crushed diamonds.

Yang Ning walked over and handed her a bottle of water.

"Thank you." She took it and took a sip.

"Does your arm still hurt?"

"A little." She moved around a bit. "It'll probably be bruised tomorrow."

"Let the team doctor take a look."

"It's nothing," she smiled. "You can't film without getting injured."

The two remained silent for a while.

"Director Yang," she suddenly said, "I really thought I was going to crash into something just now."

"I know."

"Do you know what I was thinking at that moment?" She turned to look at him. "I was thinking—damn it, if I were to die like this, I wouldn't even have left a last word."

Yang Ning remained silent.

"Then I thought about it, and there's nothing worth keeping." She laughed. "I'm the kind of person who doesn't have many attachments."

Where are your parents?

"I have my younger brother to take care of me." She looked at the night sky. "I've been acting for so many years, I don't expect to support myself in my old age anymore."

Yang Ning nodded.

"And you?" she asked. "Do you have anyone you care about?"

Yang Ning thought for a moment.

"Yes," he said.

"Who?"

He did not answer.

Li Binbin stared at him for a few seconds, then laughed: "Never mind, I won't ask. It's none of my business anyway."

She stood up, brushed the dust off her pants, and said, "Let's go, back to sleep. We have filming tomorrow."

Yang Ning watched her walk away, her long shadow trailing behind her under the streetlights.

---

It was past one o'clock when we got back to the hotel.

Yang Ning took a shower, lay on the bed, and reviewed today's material with her eyes closed.

The emergency avoidance scene was definitely better than the original design. That sense of realism is something you can't replicate in post-production.

But that's also the problem—it's too realistic, which makes it feel a bit jarring. We need to find a way to integrate it naturally into the play.

As I was thinking, my phone vibrated.

It was a text message from Gao Yuanyuan: "Are you asleep?"

"without."

"I watched the playback of today's scene; it was so dangerous. Are you alright?"

"without."

"That's good." A few seconds later, she texted again, "Yang Ning, I was just thinking, what would you do if you stopped acting someday?"

Yang Ning stared at the question for a few seconds, stunned.

Then he replied, "I hadn't thought about it."

"Then think about it now."

Yang Ning thought for a moment.

"Maybe..." he typed, "to go somewhere deserted and stay there."

"one person?"

"Um."

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"What if I come to you?"

Yang Ning looked at the message but didn't reply.

A few minutes later, she sent another message: "Just kidding. Going to sleep now, goodnight."

Yang Ning put down her phone and stared at the ceiling.

The night outside the window is very quiet.

He suddenly remembered what Li Binbin had just said—"I'm not a person who has many attachments."

is it?

He wasn't sure.

But he knew that some things had begun to change.