Huayu: Starting from retirement, sweeping across the domestic entertainment industry

Chapter 219 Guest Appearance in "Lone Traveler on the Moon"

That evening, although Li Ran said he would "see how Li Yitong performs tonight," he still obediently went home after dinner.

After all, Oda was still watching intently from the side, his big eyes saying, "You dare to stay and see what happens."

Although she already knew everything, she clearly couldn't accept another girl being in her home and having intimate contact with her boyfriend—not even Li Yitong.

Some bottom lines, no matter how much you explain them, remain bottom lines.

It was almost eleven o'clock when he got back to his apartment.

When Ta Xue heard the door open, she came running from her kennel, circling around his feet, her tail wagging like a little motor.

He bent down and rubbed its head, then changed his shoes and went into the living room.

The casting process was much more complicated than he had anticipated.

After the news of the "Honor of Kings" project was released, people kept coming to us.

Some called, some sent WeChat messages, some asked intermediaries to pass on messages, and some went directly to Long Danni.

He never expected that casting would lead to so many connections and people trying to find someone, including friends in the industry, actors he had worked with, and even companies he had no connection with.

He knew in his heart that most of these people were not there for him, but for the title of "National Preceptor".

The name Zhang Yimou is a golden brand; who wouldn't want a piece of the pie?

Besides, big-budget productions are rare these days, especially one with an e-sports theme that already generates buzz and attracts attention.

If any newcomer can get in, even if it's just a minor supporting role, it adds something impressive to their resume.

The problem is that he doesn't have the final say.

It's true that he has a say in scriptwriting; Director Zhang is willing to listen to his opinions on how to change characters, adjust lines, and develop the plot.

But casting is different; it involves too many interests—platforms, investors, agencies, and everyone has their own people to promote and their own favors to repay.

All he can do is "talk".

So he didn't take on too much; he helped where he could and left the rest to fate.

He hasn't been in this circle for long, but he's already figured out some things about relationships: giving is a favor, not giving is one's right.

What I fear most is giving and then receiving complaints.

He leaned back on the sofa, picked up his phone, and scrolled through his unread messages for the day.

Li Ran briefly replied to a few messages from the girls, then turned around and went into the e-sports room.

These past few days have brought back the feeling of his professional gaming days—sleeping during the day, playing ranked games at night, ordering takeout when hungry, and taking naps on the table when tired.

No one urged him to finish his work commitments, no one nagged him about his schedule, he didn't need to go over the script, meet with the director, or smile in front of the camera.

All you need to do is sit in front of the computer, stare at the screen, place your hands on the keyboard and mouse, and wait for that "ding" confirmation sound.

He suddenly realized that he might never have truly let go.

It's not that I can't let go of those honors, those trophies, and those glittering past achievements.

It's that I can't let go of that feeling, that pure, simple feeling of only winning and losing.

On the field, you don't need to worry about so much; all you need to do is win.

Winning is winning, losing is losing, it's clear and straightforward, there's no gray area.

Unlike in the entertainment industry, sometimes winning isn't winning, and sometimes losing isn't losing.

The success or failure of a drama can be determined by editing, promotion, competing dramas at the same time, or even a trending topic.

He was really exhausted, not physically, but mentally.

Li Ran turned on his computer and logged into League of Legends.

As soon as I logged in, a team invitation popped up in the bottom right corner.

TES didn't make it to the World Championship this year, so they went on vacation early. These guys are very idle and are causing trouble in the Chinese server's Challenger tier every day.

He clicked "agree," put on his headphones, and Ah Shui's voice immediately filled in, carrying that carefree spirit unique to young people.

"Brother Ran, shall we continue tonight?"

Li Ran leaned back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Let's continue, get started."

The two started duo queuing, but didn't choose the Korean server.

Originally, I was just playing games to relax, but once I joined the Korean server, I had to be serious, strategize, and fight.

The Chinese server is easy; you can play any hero, and if you lose, you lose.

The game ended in a crushing defeat; the opposing team surrendered after just fifteen minutes.

Ah Shui let out a long sigh, a muffled sigh that carried a sincere and undisguised emotion in his earphones.

"Brother Ran, it's such a pity you retired. It's been so long since you played, and you're still at a top level in the league." There was a hint of regret in his voice.

Li Ran smiled.

"I'm still a bit rusty."

He spoke casually, as if he were talking about something insignificant, but Ah Shui knew that when he said he was "somewhat rusty," he was referring to his own peak performance. Compared to ordinary people, he was still on another level.

Just as the two were preparing to play the next game, another familiar ID applied to join the team: Wang Junkai.

Li Ran stared at the ID for a moment, then canceled the match and clicked "agree".

There was a moment of silence in the headphones, then Wang Junkai's voice came through, polite and courteous.

"Hello, Brother Ran."

Ah Shui also greeted him casually.

Li Ran gave the two a brief introduction, and then they started lining up.

After two games, Wang Junkai played reasonably well, neither particularly outstanding nor a liability.

Li Ran knew he couldn't have come to him just to play games, so he waited for him to speak up.

Sure enough, right after the second game ended, Wang Junkai's voice came through the earphone, sounding a little tentative and casual.

"Brother Ran, how's the casting for 'Honor of Kings' going?"

Li Ran leaned back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips. He had already guessed it.

"What, you're interested too? Want to be my supporting character?"

Although Wang Junkai is now self-employed and runs his own studio, he never lacks resources.

With the sheer size of his fanbase, he doesn't need others to give him opportunities; he himself is the opportunity.

He came to inquire about casting, not because he had no roles to play, but because he was drawn by the name "Zhang Yimou".

These days, who wouldn't want to appear in a drama directed by the National Master? Even if it's just a web series.

Wang Junkai didn't hide anything either.

"I do have this idea," he said frankly and honestly.

"Besides, it's not beneath me to be a supporting character for you, Brother Ran." He paused, then added, "I know what kind of status you have, Brother Ran."

Li Ran picked up the water glass next to him, took a sip, and then slowly said, "This project is too big; I can't make the decision."

He was direct and didn't beat around the bush. "I can only put in a good word for you; whether it works out or not depends on Director Zhang."

Wang Junkai chuckled, "That's enough with Ran-ge's words."

Once it was accepted, no one brought it up again.

The three of them were playing their own games, fighting and killing, pushing towers and taking dragons. Ah Shui was rambling on in the voice chat, telling jokes that made Wang Junkai laugh out loud, and Li Ran laughed along with him.

He suddenly realized that this kind of life was quite nice; he didn't have to think so much, deal with so many things, or waver between personal relationships and rules.

All you need to do is stare at the screen, wait for that team fight, wait for that flash, wait for that "Aced".

My teammates are on the other side of the screen, laughter is coming through my headphones, and I have a keyboard and mouse in my hands.

Simple and pure.

At the end, Li Ran suddenly said, "Ah Shui, come and make a cameo appearance sometime—"

"Oh, am I capable?"

"Just showing my face—"

Li Ran ultimately didn't get much involved in the casting process.

He knew that even a single word from him could change someone's life trajectory—it wasn't that he didn't want to help, but that once this door was opened, the influx of people would leave him nowhere to stand.

He simply mentioned it to the casting director, sharing his thoughts on a few roles.

But that's enough.

In the entertainment industry, whether you can get a role in a film or television series often depends on just one sentence.

He stayed home and played for several more days.

He sleeps during the day and plays ranked games at night. Ta Xue lies at his feet, occasionally startled awake by the sound of his keyboard. She raises her head, glances at him groggily, and then goes back to sleep.

He reached the top ten in the Chinese server. Ah Shui called him a "human script user" in the voice chat, but he just laughed it off.

For top players like them, ranking is just a piece of data.

Qingdao is cooler than Beijing. The sea breeze, carrying a salty and fishy smell, blows in and makes the flags at the airport exit flutter in the wind.

Li Ran put on sunglasses, picked up his suitcase, and got into a minivan that had come to pick him up.

The car drove along the coastline toward the Oriental Movie Metropolis. The sea outside the window shimmered like scattered gold in the sunlight, rolling towards the shore in layers.

The Qingdao Oriental Movie Metropolis was larger than he had imagined.

Several huge film studios, like gray square boxes, stand quietly and silently by the sea.

The crew of "Lone in the Moon" booked the largest one of the sets. For this movie, they even built a 6,000-square-meter lunar set and used 200 tons of sand and gravel to simulate lunar dust, recreating the craters and undulations on the lunar surface one-to-one.

Li Ran later heard from the production crew that the set alone cost a lot of money, not to mention the precisely controlled lighting and post-production special effects.

When Li Ran arrived at Qingdao Oriental Movie Metropolis, it was already 3 p.m.

Shen Teng was already standing at the door waiting.

He was wearing a dark sports jacket and holding a thermos, looking like an old man taking a stroll in front of his own neighborhood.

When he saw Li Ran get out of the car, his eyes lit up, and he rushed over, opening his arms to give Li Ran a big hug.

"You little rascal!" Shen Teng patted his back, the force neither too light nor too heavy, with the natural intimacy of an elder towards a younger person.

He released Li Ran, looked him up and down, and smiled. "You've lost weight. Have you been eating poorly again?"

Li Ran chuckled awkwardly. "I'm alright. I've gained a little weight from staying home lately."

"Fat? What do you mean fat? You call that fat?" Shen Teng clicked his tongue, put his arm around his shoulder and walked inside. "Come on, let me introduce you to some people first."

The photography studio was huge, as wide as several basketball courts.

The lunar reality studio is located deep inside; you have to go through several doors to get there from the entrance.

The staff members he encountered along the way all nodded and greeted Shen Teng, and Shen Teng responded to each one. Occasionally, he would stop to chat for a few words, acting as casually as if he were at home.

As he walked, he introduced the crew members to Li Ran—Teacher Wang from the lighting team, Xiao Liu from the props team, and Sister Zhang from the costume and makeup team.

Li Ran followed him and got to know a bunch of people. He didn't remember many of their names, but everyone smiled warmly.

Director Zhang Chiyu is watching the playback on the monitor.

He wore glasses, looked refined, and spoke in a soft but clear voice.

Shen Teng walked over and patted him on the shoulder. He looked up, saw Li Ran, and quickly stood up.

"Teacher Li Ran, it's an honor to meet you." Zhang Chiyu extended his hand, smiling politely and sincerely.

Li Ran shook hands with him. "Hello Director Zhang, just call me Li Ran."

"Great, great, it's good to have you here." Zhang Chiyu pushed up his glasses, his eyes filled with excitement. "I've been thinking about your role for a long time, and I've been waiting for you to come."

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Shen Teng led Li Ran to the actors' rest area.

The rest area consisted of a row of makeshift huts with several folding chairs placed at the entrance, where a few people were chatting.

Ma Li was holding a script and talking to Chang Yuan next to her.

She saw Shen Teng walking over, looked up, her gaze fell on Li Ran, paused for a moment, and then smiled.

"Oh my, isn't this our top star?" Ma Li stood up, her voice carrying that signature, cheerful tone...

It has a flavor that makes people want to laugh.

She walked up to Li Ran, extended her hand, and said, "Li Ran, hello, I'm Ma Li."

"Teacher Ma Li, it's an honor to meet you." Li Ran shook hands with her, his attitude humble.

"Don't call me teacher, just call me Sister Li," Ma Li said with a smile and a wave of her hand.

Chang Yuan also stood up and shook hands with Li Ran. He didn't say much, but his smile was very sincere.

There were also a few young actors from Happy Twist, whose names Li Ran couldn't recall.

Yoko Lamu sat on the innermost chair, legs crossed, holding a cup of milk tea in her hand, looking down at her phone.

She heard the noise, looked up, saw Li Ran, her eyes lit up, she stood up, and ran over as fast as the wind.

"Li Ran! Long time no see!" Her voice was loud and clear, with an undisguised joy.

"Long time no see, Chu Chu baby." Li Ran smiled and used the funny nickname she had used back in Peach Blossom Village.

Yoko was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter, "You still remember this!"

The people around them laughed, and the atmosphere immediately relaxed.

Shen Teng stood to the side, watching this scene. He patted Li Ran on the shoulder and raised his voice slightly, as if he were announcing something very important.

"Alright, that's enough. Today, your brother's treating you to seafood and beer from Qingdao."

"Brother Teng, you're drinking right after you get here?" Li Ran asked with a smile.

"I just arrived and I'm already drinking. What will I drink with after you're done filming and leave?"

Shen Teng, with a self-righteous air, put his arm around Li Ran's shoulder and walked out, saying, "Let's go, let's drink until we drop tonight."

There were no more scenes to film this afternoon, so the main actors and director Zhang Chiyu came along.

Yoko Lamu followed. "Me too, me too, let's freeload a meal."

"Are you treating?" Shen Teng turned to look at her.

"It's my treat, you pay." Yoko Rame said with a grin.

"Then you'll be lonely," Shen Teng joked.

Chang Yuan looked at Shen Teng and teased, "It's not easy to get you, a real tightwad, to treat me to a meal—"

The group walked out chatting and laughing.

Walking beside Shen Teng, Li Ran listened to them chatting about this and that, and suddenly realized that this film crew was much more relaxed than he had imagined.

There aren't many rules or calculations; it's like a big family gathering together, eating, drinking, chatting, and laughing.

He glanced down at his phone; Tian Xiwei had sent a message: "Have you arrived yet?"

He typed two words: "Arrived."

After sending it, I felt something was off; it felt like I was reporting to my wife.