Huayu Entertainment: Starting with Exorcising Evil from a Film Queen

Chapter 83 Going Up the Mountain to Pay Respects to the Old Dean (4K)

"It's already the 27th of the twelfth lunar month. I thought you were out having fun and weren't coming back."

His voice was old but strong, with a strong local Jiangxi accent.

Zhang Ze closed the door and took off his backpack, placing it on the stone table.

"No way, I just rushed back to cook for you."

The old Taoist priest stopped what he was doing, straightened up, and turned around.

His wrinkled face was expressionless, but his eyes, with a hidden glint, scrutinized Zhang Ze from head to toe.

"You've lost weight."

The old Taoist priest curled his lip.

"Looks like working in the entertainment industry isn't so easy either."

"It's alright, just busy."

Zhang Ze walked over and took the broom from the old Taoist priest.

"You rest, I'll sweep."

The old Taoist priest didn't stand on ceremony. He shoved the broom into Zhang Ze's hand and sat down at the stone table.

He took out a pipe from his pocket and slowly filled it with tobacco.

Zhang Ze, with his keen eye, picked up the lighter next to him and went over to light it for the old Taoist priest.

Plop, plop.

The old Taoist priest took two puffs and exhaled a cloud of bluish-white smoke.

"How many days will you stay this time?"

"I'll leave after the fifth day of the Lunar New Year."

"So soon?" The old Taoist priest frowned. "Many of the roof tiles in the temple are broken, and the wall in the backyard is cracked."

I was hoping you'd come back and fix it.

"I'll find someone to fix it."

Zhang Ze said this while sweeping the floor.

"Not only are they repairing the roof, but they're also paving the road up the mountain. It's all muddy when it rains, so pilgrims don't want to come up."

The old Taoist priest snorted.

"Quite the boast. How much does it cost to repair the road? How much do you earn as an extra in that Yokohama place?"

He tapped the stone table with his pipe.

"I told you long ago, that circle is a cesspool, not a place for those who cultivate the Tao. If you have no food, come back. This Taoist temple may be dilapidated, but at least it has a few acres of land; you won't starve."

"Once you've settled down, taking over my position won't be considered a disgrace to our ancestor."

It's the same old story again.

From childhood, the old Taoist priest hoped that Zhang Ze could inherit his mantle and live a peaceful life as a Taoist priest.

Unlike in later generations, the mountain now has no internet, no computers, only an old television.

So the old Taoist priest didn't even know that Zhang Ze had stopped playing minor roles, let alone that Zhang Ze had become an internet sensation.

The old Taoist priest probably still knew Zhang Ze from when he first ventured into the entertainment industry.

"That's Hengdian, not Yokohama. Hengdian is where movies are filmed, while Yokohama is the area around Xiao Rizi."

"What's the difference? Neither of them are good places!" the old Taoist priest sneered.

Zhang Ze didn't refute, he just smiled.

He put down the broom, walked to his backpack, and unzipped it.

Take out a black plastic bag from inside.

The old Taoist priest glanced at him sideways.

"What did you bring? If it's any of those fancy supplements, forget it. I'm perfectly healthy."

Zhang Ze didn't say anything, but simply placed the plastic bag on the stone table and untied the knot.

Bundles of red 100-yuan bills were revealed.

The old Taoist priest opened his mouth wide, his pipe dangling from his lips.

The pipe almost fell to the ground.

He reached out and picked up a bundle of money, looked at the anti-counterfeiting watermark, and then smelled the distinctive ink odor.

it is true.

"This—" The old Taoist priest pointed at the money, his hand trembling slightly, "You—you robbed a bank?"

"This is my pay."

Zhang Ze sat down opposite the old Taoist priest, took out two more bundles from the bag, and pushed them in front of the old Taoist priest.

"This is 300,000."

"Two hundred thousand will be used to repair the Taoist temple and roads; the extra is a tribute to you."

"The remaining 100,000 is for the orphanage at the foot of the mountain, to buy some new clothes and meat for the children."

The old Taoist priest looked at the pile of money in front of him, then at Zhang Ze.

His gaze became complicated.

He knew that this brat had been smart since he was a child and had plenty of ideas.

But he never imagined that he could make such a name for himself in the entertainment industry, such a cesspool.

Three hundred thousand.

In a small county town in 2009, this was a huge sum of money.

I can buy two of the best houses in the county town.

The old Taoist priest remained silent for a while, then tapped the ash from his pipe onto the sole of his shoe.

"You're really willing to hand over such a large sum of money to me?"

"You are my master, who else should I trust if not you?"

The old Taoist priest snorted, picked up the 100,000 yuan, and stuffed it into his pocket.

"I'll send the money to the orphanage tomorrow. As for the Taoist temple—"

He looked around at the mottled walls and sighed.

"It really needs some repairs. The paint on the ancestral master's statue is peeling off."

The old Taoist priest put the remaining money back into the bag, tied it up, and held it in his arms as if afraid it would be blown away by the wind.

All those previous comments about retiring from the industry or taking over were swallowed back down at this moment.

He stood up, ignoring Zhang Ze, and walked towards the back room with the money in his arms.

After walking a few steps, he stopped again and turned his head.

"We're having braised pork with bamboo shoots for dinner. You go and cook."

After saying that, he walked briskly into the house.

That figure, no matter how you look at it, exudes a sense of joy.

As Zhang Ze watched the old Taoist priest's retreating figure, a smile unconsciously crept onto his lips.

The old man may have a tough exterior, but he's soft-hearted than anyone else.

He picked up the broom again and slowly swept the yard.

As the sun sets, its golden-red afterglow spills onto the dilapidated Taoist temple, bathing the blue bricks and black tiles in a warm glow.

The mountain wind rustled through the pine forest, creating a series of booming sounds.

At this moment, the intrigues and backstabbing in the entertainment industry, and the deceit and treachery in the world of fame and fortune, all seem very far away.

Zhang Ze's heart finally calmed down.

Dinner was simple.

A steaming pot of cured pork stewed with winter bamboo shoots, a plate of stir-fried bok choy, and a pot of rice wine brewed by the old Taoist priest.

The two sat under the dim light, drinking and eating snacks.

After drinking two cups of wine, the old Taoist priest started talking non-stop.

"Did you encounter anything unsavory in that circle?"

Zhang Ze picked up a piece of cured meat and put it in his mouth.

"In today's harmonious society, what unclean things are there?"

"I did encounter a malevolent creature that emerged from the ground, and I smashed it."

"Well, as long as you haven't lost your skills, that's fine." The old Taoist priest nodded. "Cultivating the Tao requires cultivating the mind. No matter where you are, your mind must not be disturbed."

"understood."

"And—" the old Taoist priest paused, his gaze becoming somewhat unfocused, "Have you—met a suitable girl?"

Zhang Ze paused for a moment while picking up food with his chopsticks.

Liu Shishi's beautiful and gentle face flashed through my mind, as did Zhao Liying's big, round eyes, Tang Yan's dimples, Li Xiaoran's big white hair, and even Yang Mi's sly smile.

"have."

Zhang Ze spoke the truth.

"That's good, that's good." The old Taoist chuckled, revealing a set of fairly even teeth. "Our lineage doesn't prohibit marriage. If you've found the right one, bring it back for your master to see."

"but----"

The old Taoist priest changed the subject, his expression becoming serious.

"The women in that circle are all cunning. Even though you're clever, don't get sold out and then help them count the money."

Zhang Ze poured the old Taoist priest a full glass of wine.

"Don't worry, Master, I know what I'm doing."

"Just having a grasp of the numbers is enough."

The old Taoist priest picked up his wine cup and drank it all in one gulp.

"What are your plans for next year?"

"When are you leaving?"

Zhang Ze put down his chopsticks and looked out at the dark night.

"I want to make a movie."

The old Taoist priest didn't understand what making a movie was, but he could hear the ambition in Zhang Ze's tone.

He didn't ask anything, nor did he try to dissuade him.

He silently took out a yellow talisman folded into a triangle from his pocket and placed it on the table.

"This is a peace charm that I drew a few days ago and had it blessed in front of the ancestral master."

"Take it with you; it will ward off evil and bring you peace."

Zhang Ze looked at the slightly rough talisman paper. Although he knew it was just an ordinary talisman paper, he still reached out and took it, solemnly putting it into his pocket.

"Thank you, Master."

Late at night.

The nights in the mountains are exceptionally quiet, with only the occasional bark of a dog.

Zhang Ze lay in the room where he had slept since he was a child.

Although the quilt was a bit old, it had been sun-dried and had a pleasant, sun-dried smell.

He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the reputation panel in his mind.

The numbers above are fluctuating slowly but steadily.

While the initial buzz surrounding "Chinese Paladin 3" is still lingering, its reputation has already diminished considerably.

Reputation value: 120.

This number is already quite a lot compared to before, but it's still far from enough to upgrade to higher-level skills.

Especially since they're going to be making a movie, they're sure to encounter a lot of difficulties.

Zhang Ze was also thinking of further improving his directing skills to avoid any mishaps.

It seems we'll have to wait a little longer.

The next day, Zhang Ze got out of bed, washed up briefly, and headed towards the back mountain while it was still early.

The mountain forest was exceptionally damp in the early morning, and a chill crept up my trouser legs.

Zhang Ze knelt before two overgrown earthen graves, holding several reams of yellow paper in his hand.

A flame leaped from the lighter, igniting a corner of the yellow paper.

The firelight flickered in the cool morning breeze, and the gray-black ash from the paper swirled and rose with the steam.

His expression was calm, without any great sorrow or joy; he simply mechanically added paper money to the fire.

His parents are buried here.

Although Zhang Ze's memories of the two were somewhat hazy, the bond of blood remained.

The old man said that their meeting was a predestined marriage.

At that time, one of them was a peacekeeping soldier, and the other was a doctor assisting in the reconstruction efforts.

The two met during a conflict abroad; one rescued the damsel in distress, and the other offered herself to him—a scene Zhang Ze found incredibly melodramatic.

After Zhang Ze was born, the two set off again. In Zhang Ze's memory, the two of them would not come back even once a year when he was a child.

When Zhang Ze was five years old, his parents returned in a box. That night, the light in the old man's room stayed on all night.

From then on, Zhang Ze stayed with the old man in the Taoist temple deep in the mountains.

After burning the paper money and kowtowing three times, Zhang Ze stood up, brushed the dirt off his knees, and turned to go down the mountain.

Upon arriving in town, he went straight to the largest supermarket and bought rice, cooking oil, pork, several boxes of milk, and Want Want gift packs.

They hired a three-wheeled vehicle for hauling goods, and the two of them arrived at the Qingyun Town Orphanage one after the other.

The iron gate was rusty, and the cement ground in the yard had several cracks, with withered yellow weeds growing in the cracks.

Several children wearing old cotton-padded coats were chasing and playing in the yard, their faces flushed with the redness of the high altitude.

When Zhang Ze came in, the children stopped what they were doing and looked at this unfamiliar older brother timidly.

An elderly woman with gray hair came out of the house, carrying an enamel mug in her hand.

She is the former director of this place, surnamed Wang, and people in the neighborhood who know her call her Aunt Wang.

Zhang Ze directed the tricycle driver to unload the goods under the eaves.

Dean Wang squinted for a long time before recognizing the tall young man in front of him.

She walked over quickly and grabbed Zhang Ze's hand.

Those hands were as rough as tree bark, but the palms were warm.

"Oh, it's Xiaoze! Why did you buy so much stuff? How much did it cost?"

Zhang Ze let her hold him, and said with a smile, "I've made some money, so I'm going to improve the children's meals."

Dean Wang's eyes reddened as he looked at the mountain of supplies.

She pulled Zhang Ze into the house and insisted on pouring him some sugar water.

The room was simply furnished with a few tables and chairs with peeling paint, and the walls were covered with the children's certificates of merit.

Zhang Ze took a sip of hot sugar water, then took out a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it on the table along with the 100,000 yuan. His phone number was written on the paper.

"Grandma Wang, I'm earning money outside now. I'll cover the children's tuition and book fees from now on."

"You won't need to go to other people's homes anymore to beg them for kindness!"

Dean Wang was stunned. The enamel mug in his hand wobbled, and a few drops of water spilled out.

She looked at Zhang Ze, her lips trembling, "This—this is no small sum of money, where did you get the money?"

"I'm a celebrity now, one of those celebrities on TV. This money came from a legitimate source, so you can use it with confidence."

Zhang Ze stuffed the note and money into Dean Wang's hand.

"Call me if you ever need money. Don't let the child suffer."

Dean Wang's tears streamed down his wrinkled face and dripped onto his clothes.

She clutched the note tightly, as if it were some priceless treasure.

"Good boy, good boy————"

She wiped away her tears and looked up at Zhang Ze.

"This year, let's call your master down to celebrate the New Year."

Zhang Ze was about to refuse when Dean Wang added another sentence.

"It's settled then. If you don't agree, I won't take the money."

She gripped Zhang Ze's sleeve tightly, her eyes stubborn.

Looking into the old man's expectant eyes, Zhang Ze swallowed back his words of refusal.

"Okay, I'll go back and tell the old man."

Dean Wang then let go of her hand, his tears turning into a smile.

It was already afternoon when we returned to the Taoist temple.

The old Taoist priest was sitting in the courtyard basking in the sun, covered with a faded military overcoat.

Zhang Ze told Zhang Ze about his trip to the orphanage for the Chinese New Year.

The old Taoist priest raised his eyelids slightly but did not object.

"Let's go then, so we don't have to stare at each other like that."

He rolled over and found a more comfortable position.

"However, even though it's the New Year, we can't forget our ancestral master. The incense in this temple must not be extinguished."

"Before you go, clean the Taoist temple inside and out thoroughly, replace what needs replacing, and wipe what needs wiping."

Zhang Ze responded, took off his coat, and rolled up his sleeves.

For the next two days, Zhang Ze was busy everywhere in the Taoist temple.

He climbed up and down, wiping all the beams and pillars in the main hall.

The accumulated dust made him cough, but looking at the newly renovated hall, he felt much more at ease.

He polished the clay statue of the patriarch until it shone, but some damaged parts revealed the clay and straw inside, which looked rather jarring.

Zhang Ze had originally planned to use something to cover up the truth, but then he thought that he had made a lot of money this year, so he might as well rebuild a statue of the ancestor next year and not bother with that.

However, the specifics depend on the old man; he's the authority on this matter. At most, he's just a money transfer machine.

The incense burner on the offering table was also cleaned and replaced with fresh incense ash.

The old Taoist priest wasn't idle either; he stood behind the work with his hands behind his back, giving occasional pointers.

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