Chapter 7
Wearing that maid's uniform, she exuded not a trace of servant's humility, but rather a cold and aloof aura that kept strangers at bay, causing several extras who wanted to strike up a conversation to hesitate.
"Action director! Where's the action director? Tell that new maid about the fight scene later!" Assistant Director Zhang shouted through a megaphone.
A burly man with a buzz cut, bulging muscles, and wearing a camouflage vest ran over in response, carrying two prop long knives. He was one of the film crew's martial arts instructors, surnamed Wang.
"Little girl, you're playing the maid A, right?" Wang Wu looked Zhuo Hua up and down a few times. Seeing that she was thin and a new face, he spoke in a somewhat formulaic and perfunctory tone, "In the scene later, you'll be protecting your master as he breaks through the encirclement and is attacked by three masked assassins. The movements are very simple; I'll teach you a few basic stances."
He shoved a prop knife into Zhuohua's hand: "Here, grip it tight! Keep the knife steady! Look fierce! Like this!" He then struck a powerful, sweeping slashing pose, exuding a fierce aura.
Zhuohua weighed the light prop knife in her hand, but said nothing.
Seeing that she didn't react, Wang Wu assumed she was nervous, so he patiently demonstrated: "See? The enemy is slashing from the left, you block like this! Then follow up with a sweeping leg kick! Remember, the movement needs to be fast! ruthless! Powerful! When you're suspended by wires, you need to use your core muscles..."
He began to explain the movements in detail, and even called in three stuntmen playing assassins to demonstrate.
"Block! Sweep! Chop! Yes! Keep it connected! Do it again!" Wang Wu shouted with great vigor.
The three stuntmen worked together, their movements were standard but somewhat formulaic, and they fought back and forth in a lively manner.
Zhuohua held the knife, watching quietly with a calm and unwavering gaze.
Wang Wu had been explaining to Fan for several minutes until his throat was dry. He turned to Zhuohua and said, "Well? Little girl, did you understand? Come on, you try!"
Zhuohua then moved. Unlike Wang Wuzhi, she didn't assume a fighting stance; she simply casually took a step forward, sword in hand, and stood opposite the three martial artists. The three martial artists were all experienced veterans, and seeing that she was a slender young girl, their eyes held a hint of disdain.
"Action!" shouted the assistant director in charge of the action scenes.
Almost the instant the sound faded, the three stuntmen, following their pre-arranged plan, simultaneously let out a low shout and swung their swords, attacking Zhuohua from three directions! Their movements were swift, creating a whooshing sound!
Just as Wang Wu was about to shout "Block the left side!", the scene before him rendered him speechless!
Zhuohua's wrist twitched extremely slightly!
There were no sweeping parries, no exaggerated dodges. She seemed to transform into a blurry, dark shadow!
That's too fast!
It's faster than the human eye can perceive!
The prop longsword in her hand drew an extremely simple, almost perfect arc in the air! There wasn't a single superfluous movement; it was as precise as if it had been measured with a ruler!
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Three crisp metallic sounds, like jade chimes striking each other, rang out almost simultaneously!
The three martial artists felt a blur before their eyes, and an irresistible force came through the blade, causing their tiger's mouths to tremble violently!
Their fierce slashes seemed to have struck an invisible wall of bronze and iron, instantly deflected and neutralized by a subtle, spiraling, and gentle force! The three knives clashed uncontrollably against each other, making a chaotic clanging sound!
In the blink of an eye, Zhuohua's figure, like a ghost, effortlessly passed through the tiny gap created by the three people's loss of control!
She didn't even turn around, but casually slung the knife behind her back and landed lightly three steps away from the encirclement.
The whole process was smooth and seamless, as if it weren't a movie shoot, but a leisurely stroll through a falling leaf.
The wind stopped.
Human will decide.
The entire studio fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone who witnessed this scene—the director, assistant director, cameraman, lighting technician, and even the actors and extras watching from the sidelines—was frozen in place! Their eyes were wide open, and their mouths were agape enough to fit an egg!
The three stuntmen who had made the move were completely petrified! They remained frozen in place, their weapons clashing comically, their faces filled with disbelief, shock, and bewilderment. What had just happened?
They only felt the knives being pulled by an irresistible force, and then... they collided with each other? Where is the girl?
Wang Wu's walkie-talkie fell to the ground with a "thud," but he was oblivious, staring intently at the black-clad figure casually standing in the center of the room, a layer of cold sweat instantly breaking out on his forehead.
This…this isn’t any of those fancy moves he taught! The speed! The precision! The effortless control of force! This is…this is a true master! No, a master among masters! And he was just teaching someone how to strike a pose?!
The director suddenly stood up from behind the monitor, and in his haste, he knocked over a chair without even bothering to steady it.
He stared intently at the small screen displaying the replay, the lightning-fast, incomprehensible scene clearly captured! Fluid! Sharp! Filled with an incredible, powerful beauty! A hundred times more stunning than any top-tier martial arts choreography he had ever seen!
"Cut! Cut! Cut!"
The director's voice cracked with excitement. He waved his arms, his face flushed, but his eyes shone with an alarming light, as if he had discovered a priceless treasure. "Zhuohua! Miss Zhuohua! That last move! That last action! How did you do that?! Do it again! No! Just like you did it! Perfect! Absolutely perfect!"
The entire film set, like a stagnant pool that had been thrown in by a boulder, instantly erupted in excitement!
"My God! Am I seeing things?!"
"It's too fast! I can't even see clearly!"
"Three grown men, and she just... messed up a single stab?"
"That skill... is it special effects?!"
"So handsome! Absolutely stunning!!"
"The action director's face turned green..."
A buzz of discussion swept through the entire studio like a tidal wave. All eyes, like searchlights, were focused on the green-clad girl in the center of the room, still holding the prop sword, her expression calm, as if she had just casually brushed aside a few fallen leaves.
Shock! Awe! Unbelievable!
Lu Xiao stood in the corner, script in hand, equally dumbfounded.
He knew Zhuohua was powerful and that she was superhuman, but seeing her use martial arts in a way that was both mortal and beyond the limits of mortals was a double shock to his eyes and his mind, and it still made his heart pound like a drum!
He looked at Zhuohua, who was the center of attention, and at her calm yet seemingly powerful figure. An indescribable feeling, a mixture of pride, excitement, and deeper emotions, quietly spread through his heart, a bittersweet ache.
Amidst the clamor and intense gazes, Zhuohua frowned slightly, seemingly finding it a bit noisy. She raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping over the excited crowd, and precisely catching sight of Lu Xiao in the corner.
Their eyes met.
Lu Xiao felt as if his heart had been lightly bumped, then suddenly contracted, before pounding violently again, faster and more erratically than when he was watching the action scene. He instinctively gripped the script in his hand, his knuckles turning slightly white.
Zhuohua looked at his somewhat flustered yet surprisingly bright eyes, and her impatience at being disturbed quietly dissipated. She subtly curled her lips, as if disdainful of the hustle and bustle of the mortal world, but deep in her eyes, a faint trace of...pleasure seemed to flicker, a trace that only she herself could understand?
She withdrew her gaze, casually inserting the prop longsword into the weapon rack beside her. The blade sank deep into the wood with a soft "thud," as if pressing the pause button on this boiling scene.
Then, under the watchful eyes of everyone, she took a step and walked straight towards Lu Xiao.
The clamor and excitement in Studio 3 of Group A was abruptly silenced by the resounding "thud" of Zhuohua's casual thrust, the blade piercing deep into the wood. Everyone, including the director who was practically leaping off the ground with excitement, felt as if they had been choked, their mouths agape but unable to utter a sound, their gazes burning even more intensely as they followed the figure in black.
Zhuohua walked straight towards Lu Xiao in the corner without glancing to the side. Her steps were slow, and as she passed, the crowd instinctively parted to make way for her, like Moses parting the sea.
Lu Xiao was still immersed in the shocking scene that had exceeded his comprehension, and the script for the maid "Cuiyu" in his hand was almost soaked with sweat. As Zhuohua approached step by step, he felt his heart pounding in his throat, and his cheeks burning uncontrollably, especially when those calm and deep eyes fell on him.
"Nervous...?" Zhuohua stopped in front of him, her gaze sweeping over the crumpled script in his hand, and asked casually. Her voice was soft, yet it clearly drowned out all the background noise around her.
Lu Xiao snapped back to reality, quickly shook his head, then realized something was wrong and nodded vigorously, stammering, "Yes... a little! No, it's mainly because... you were just too... too amazing!" He lowered his voice, his glassy eyes filled with pure admiration and still-unsettled excitement, like they were covered with tiny starlight.
Zhuohua looked at him and raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. Having lived for hundreds of thousands of years, she had seen far too many eyes filled with awe, fear, and worship, and was long since numb to it.
But Lu Xiao's pure, unadulterated amazement and admiration, like a small animal rubbing its wet nose against your hand, with a touch of clumsy sincerity, was... somewhat refreshing. That slight itch in my heart quietly spread again.
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