Chapter 7: Striving to Become a Superstar

Peng Yongliang and Yuan Qi were also wide awake.

They squatted by the wall of the canteen, cigarettes flickering in their hands, the glow looking almost like ghostly fires at first glance.

“Frustrating. We didn’t manage to get Chu Tianfeng,” Peng Yongliang said through gritted teeth.

Not only had they failed to deal with Chu Tianfeng, but they’d also left evidence with Director Yang. It would be much harder to make a move on Chu Tianfeng openly in the future.

“Let’s hope that scapegoat Xiang Yanping stays in bed for a month or so,” Yuan Qi said, just as annoyed.

He regretted it now. If he’d known things would turn out this way, he would have jumped up and stomped on Xiang Yanping himself.

“Well, at least we vented a bit of our anger,” Peng Yongliang said, exhaling a smoke ring as if that ring carried away his frustration.

He blew out the smoke slowly; the rings morphed at his lips into pale grey halos, each growing larger and thinner before fading away.

“Are we still keeping an eye on Chu Tianfeng?” Yuan Qi asked.

He tried to blow smoke rings too, but his skill was lacking and all he managed were shapeless clouds.

“Of course we are. Anyone who dares cross me doesn’t get off easy,” Peng Yongliang replied, his voice rising.

He wasn’t about to let Chu Tianfeng go, nor Xiang Yanping.

One stole his opportunities, the other his woman—there was no way Peng Yongliang would let either of them off.

“They hide out in the crew every day. It’ll be hard to find an opening,” Yuan Qi said.

Whether it was a direct confrontation or a sneaky ambush, Yuan Qi had confidence he could handle the two. The problem was, if they kept hiding like turtles, there was no way to go after them in broad daylight.

“I don’t believe even turtles never stick their heads out. They won’t stay here forever,” Peng Yongliang said, blowing out another smoke ring.

“Got it, Yongliang.”

Just then, a strong flashlight beam swept over them.

“Who’s there? Get out here!” The voice behind the flashlight was shrill and unpleasant.

By the dim glow of the streetlamp, Peng and Yuan saw it was a security guard from the crew, burly and tough-looking.

“We’re extras,” Peng Yongliang replied, swallowing his discontent.

They tossed their cigarettes and slowly stepped out from the shadows.

“What are you two sneaking around here for in the middle of the night?” the guard demanded, shining the flashlight right in their faces.

“We just finished a late scene and were a bit too wired to sleep. Didn’t want to disturb anyone, so we came here for a smoke.” Yuan Qi, worried Peng Yongliang might lose his temper, quickly put on a friendly smile. “Brother, want one?”

“Save it. Are you trying to sneak into the canteen to steal something?” The guard brushed aside the offered cigarette, still stern.

“Watch your words, brother. Food is one thing, but lines are another,” Peng Yongliang replied coldly.

Steal something? The canteen was full of nothing but vegetables—who’d want to steal that?

He was already annoyed at having a flashlight in his face, and being called a thief only made it worse.

“What, not happy I said that? Fine, come with me to the security room. I’ll teach you a lesson tonight!” The guard stepped forward and shoved Peng Yongliang.

Stumbling, Peng Yongliang’s anger flared.

“We’re with the Salt Society. Don’t think you can push us around,” Peng Yongliang growled.

“Nonsense, when did the Salt Society have people like you?” the guard retorted, though his tone softened noticeably.

“Hmph, our boss is Brother De, a favorite of Hallmaster Liu at Hang City Hall,” Peng Yongliang said, growing more confident as he spoke.

The guard’s heart skipped a beat—he knew exactly what the Salt Society was.

Truth be told, he couldn’t afford to provoke them.

Looking back, he realized the two hadn’t actually done anything serious. Best not to make trouble if it could be avoided.

Having decided this, the guard switched off his flashlight. “Hallmaster Liu probably wouldn’t care about small fry like you.”

“True, he wouldn’t, but he cares about our boss. You can ask around at Hang City Hall. Brother, always leave room for future meetings,” Peng Yongliang said, his own tone softening as the guard’s attitude changed.

“All right, that’s enough for tonight. Go get some sleep,” the guard said, turning to leave.

He suspected they might not be telling the whole truth, but they’d named Hang City Hall and Hallmaster Liu—so there was likely some connection. He couldn’t risk offending them.

“Wait,” Peng Yongliang called after him, an idea sparking.

“What now?” The guard frowned, a little uneasy.

“I’d like to ask a favor—just keep an eye on someone for me. If he leaves, let us know.”

Peng Yongliang knew these guards were posted around the crew day and night; if anyone went out, they’d be among the first to know. No reason not to use their eyes and ears.

“Who?” the guard asked. If it was really that simple, he didn’t mind—it was no trouble.

“A small fry called Chu Tianfeng,” Peng Yongliang said, pulling out his phone and opening his album. “Here, this guy.”

“That’s all?” the guard said coolly.

It didn’t matter if the other party had a backer; he still had to show he was in control.

“That’s all. Oh, and I’ll give you two packs of good cigarettes a month,” Peng Yongliang said, quick to seize the opportunity. A little incentive went a long way.

Just two packs of cigarettes in exchange for an inside line—things would be much easier moving forward.

“Deal. No problem,” the guard agreed. That was exactly what he’d been waiting for—a way out and a bit of extra cash.

Watching the guard walk away, Yuan Qi finally let out a breath.

“Is it really a good idea to pretend we’re with the Salt Society? If Brother De finds out, won’t he come after us?” Yuan Qi asked.

He knew enough about the Salt Society to know they were not to be trifled with. He avoided them whenever possible—who’d dare impersonate one of them?

“Relax. That guard wouldn’t dare check, not in a hundred years. My cousin will never know,” Peng Yongliang said with absolute confidence. Clearly, this wasn’t his first time pulling such a stunt.

“Keep walking at night, you’ll eventually run into ghosts. Better not do this too often,” Yuan Qi muttered, still uneasy.

You could never be too careful. If even a hint of this leaked and the Salt Society came knocking, he’d be lucky to get away with his bones intact.

“You’re such a coward,” Peng Yongliang scoffed. “Don’t worry. My cousin and I have been close since we were kids. Even if they found out, nothing would happen.”

Yuan Qi didn’t argue further. He took out a cigarette and offered it to Peng Yongliang.

Peng Yongliang waved it away. “No more. I’m washing up and getting some sleep.”

———

Chu Tianfeng spent seven or eight hours cultivating without a break. It was already late morning when he finally finished and hurried back to the dormitory to check on Xiang Yanping.

Aside from Yan Bin, Dr. Cheng, and Nurse Xiao Xu, both Xu Yan and Jiang Ziyue were also there.

Xiang Yanping sat upright on the iron bunk, looking in surprisingly good spirits.

“How are you feeling?” Chu Tianfeng asked.

Xiang Yanping raised his arm and lifted his shirt. “A bit better today—not as painful as yesterday.”

A large white medicated patch covered his ribs, the red gash underneath hidden from view.

“Not bad, young man. You banged your head the night before last, but today you’re already full of energy,” Dr. Cheng said with a chuckle, remembering Chu Tianfeng’s injury from the other night.

“Thank you, doctor,” Chu Tianfeng replied, nodding toward Xiang Yanping. “How’s my friend doing?”

“Same as you—just a minor injury, nothing to fuss over,” Dr. Cheng said as he packed up his kit. “Change the patch once a day and get plenty of rest for a few days.”

The last bit was clearly for Xiang Yanping, who quickly nodded, “Thank you, doctor.”

Yan Bin also stood to give his thanks.

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Cheng replied, slapping his medicine box. “We’ll be off, then.”

The group walked him out of the dormitory, shaking his hand in farewell.

After Dr. Cheng left, Yan Bin asked after Chu Tianfeng’s own condition.

“Thank you, Mr. Yan. I’m fine,” Chu Tianfeng replied politely, having a good impression of Yan Bin.

Yan Bin clapped him on the shoulder. “I hear Directors Yang and Zhang both think highly of you. Not bad—keep it up and maybe you’ll become a big star.”

“With looks like Chu Tianfeng’s, he really might become a star,” Jiang Ziyue teased, her eyes twinkling.

Chu Tianfeng could only smile wryly. Becoming a star was what his predecessor had wanted, not him—he had no such ambitions.

On the contrary, he preferred to keep a low profile.

He was acting in these films for the money, nothing more. If he had enough, he wouldn’t bother.

After Yan Bin left, the four of them returned to the dorm.

“Finally, a few days to rest. Shooting every night lately—I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages,” Xiang Yanping said, stretching.

“Same here. I just want to stick to my bed all day,” Jiang Ziyue chimed in, flopping onto the iron bunk, which groaned in protest.

Xu Yan rolled her eyes.

“Hehe!” Realizing her lack of decorum, Jiang Ziyue stuck out her tongue at Xu Yan, then turned to Chu Tianfeng. “Hey, how come you look so energetic?”

Xu Yan and Xiang Yanping both looked at him with curiosity.

“I slept like a log last night—all the way till morning,” Chu Tianfeng lied.

He’d actually spent the night cultivating without closing his eyes.

That was the benefit of cultivation: after absorbing so much spiritual energy from heaven and earth, it was impossible not to feel refreshed.

Of course, he couldn’t share that with them.

“Damn it, Peng Yongliang still owes me. I’ll settle the score with him sooner or later,” Xiang Yanping muttered, teeth clenched.

He’d taken a beating while lying on the ground—a humiliation he couldn’t swallow.

“This is their turf. You two probably can’t win against them,” Xu Yan said worriedly. “Just let it go—maybe it’ll all blow over.”

The other side had more people, and she was afraid the two would get hurt.

She also knew that with graduation approaching, any trouble for Chu Tianfeng might lead to demerits or worse—totally not worth it.

“She’s right—better not fight the local bullies,” Jiang Ziyue added, bouncing the bunk again, earning another roll of Xu Yan’s eyes.

“Sigh!” Xiang Yanping let out a heavy breath and lay back on the iron bed.

Chu Tianfeng stayed silent, but his resolve was already set.

He had never been one to swallow injustice. If he suffered a loss, he would always strike back.

If open confrontation wouldn’t work, he’d use other means.

Peng Yongliang wasn’t willing to let him go; he had even less intention of letting Peng Yongliang off.