The master turned his head to look at the moon, and the sword almost hit Wu Changyun's face.
"Don't run, you little bastard." The master dodged the thrown sword, and when he came to his senses, Wu Changyun had already run to the weapon rack.
"Master, I would like to learn more about your swordsmanship."
Wu Changyun pulled out a stick that reached his eyebrows from the weapon rack and used the "Splitting Huashan" move on his master. The long sword in his master's hand was extremely tough and was shaken left and right by the blows of the stick. The master had no choice but to use his forearm to block it.
The master finally seized the opportunity to grab the stick, but Wu Changyun let go and reached for the spear.
"I'm so angry." The master panted and poked the floor with a stick, watching Wu Changyun pick up his weapon and get ready, as if everything had to start all over again.
"Master, please give me some advice." Wu Changyun came again with his spear.
"No more competition, no more competition." The master waved his hands, no longer able to fight back.
Seeing that the old man finally gave up the fight, the master's wife quickly went over to hold the master back and put away the weapons in his hands. She also advised: "You old man, now your wish has come true. No matter how good your kung fu is, you can't match the physical strength of young people."
The master glared at his mistress in annoyance, and the matter ended abruptly.
"If you teach your apprentice a lesson, you will starve yourself to death. I tell you, as long as I am alive, people from this martial arts industry cannot sabotage us, and our ancestors' things cannot be thrown away." The master put his hands behind his back, shook his sleeves and walked straight back to the room.
"What kind of temper is this, Master? I thought there was a way today."
"I thought there was a way too. Who knows? Maybe they're asking us to come back and play a trick on us?"
As soon as Wu Changyun finished speaking, his mistress pushed him and asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Master's wife." Wu Changyun scratched the back of his head, feeling a little embarrassed.
"The old stubborn man can't let go of the rules of his ancestors and is trying to save face. You just need to cooperate with him." said the master's wife.
The three of them returned to the room again. The food was cold now. The master didn't even pick up his chopsticks. He just sat there with his arms folded, staring at his master's wife who was busy in the kitchen heating up the food, with a domineering look in his eyes.
"Master's wife, there's no need to bother us. We're not here to eat." Fushun said.
The master's wife looked at the leftovers on the plate in her hand and couldn't bear to put it down. The master suddenly said, "Then don't eat it."
"Okay, okay, go and rest first." Fushun pushed his master's wife out of the dining room.
The three of them continued to stalemate, and finally, when Wu Changyun could no longer sit still, he asked directly with the idea of breaking the jar, "Master, just tell me whether you will release me or not. If you do, I will take my fellow apprentices out to make money. If you don't, it's fine. I will follow you and continue to inherit our ancestors' teachings."
No one expected Wu Changyun to be so tough all of a sudden, and Fushun was laughing secretly, adding fuel to the fire.
"Who says our ancestors' things are inferior to what you guys do?"
"I know. Righteousness outweighs profit."
"Do you still remember these words? Check your conscience and ask yourself if you think you have truly lived up to the martial arts you have learned?"
"I know, Master."
"You know nothing."
"Then what do you say we should do? You and your brothers can't just sing along with you forever."
Wu Changyun's words hit the master's sore spot. Not to mention his whole life, he was afraid that the decline of opera would quickly break his old bones.
"You can open a security company, I have no control over you two. Your brothers are not allowed to smoke, drink, be lazy, speak in a foreign dialect, or come back to perform three plays with me every month."
"That's it?"
"Why don't you think it's enough?"
In reality, what really mattered to Wu Changyun was his master's agreement to open his own security company. This was different from when he and Fushun left the compound to pursue acting. Movies were also theater, so at least that was acceptable. He also couldn't bear to see his master, at such an old age, end up without even a disciple to accompany him.
Before leaving, Wu Changyun and Fushun did not unload the gifts from the car. They just found an old man selling things on the street and gave all the gifts to him for free.
In the following days, Wu Changyun was busy with the work of the security company, and at the same time, Zhou Xujiang was also quite troubled by the filming of "The Sixth Sense". The problem was how to create a horror atmosphere. Zhou Xujiang was familiar with this aspect, but the real difficulty was the young Liang Chaowei. When this little ancestor saw the actors dressed up as ghosts, he treated them as neighbors. Zhou Xujiang was so anxious that he wanted to change people more than once.
Yuan Aijia hurriedly called Wu Changyun over again, but Wu Changyun kept laughing as soon as he arrived, and he would burst into laughter even when talking about serious matters.
"Hey, what's wrong with you today? Are you sick again?" Yuan Aijia lowered her head and stared at Wu Changyun's face.
"You're the one who's having a seizure."
Wu Changyun really didn't expect that the male lead would be played by Wu Yaohan. Just by looking at him, Wu Changyun blurted out the habitual phrase "Dashengdi". When he saw the beard on his mouth, he couldn't help laughing.
Wu Changyun squatted in a corner of a long, narrow corridor, flanked by the doors of various households. Suddenly, a lightbulb flickered in the corridor, and a makeup artist, with white foundation and blush on her face, appeared under the alternating light and dark. With a dull expression, she approached Liang Chaowei step by step, muttering to herself, "Ah-zi, where is my Ah-zi?"
"I think it's quite scary." Wu Changyun analyzed.
"Yeah, I think it's good too." Yuan Aijia was wearing a baseball cap and holding a script sheet in his hand, looking a bit like a director.
"Come on, I said it was the actor's problem." Zhou Xujiang said impatiently.
Although this was painful to hear, it was indeed a question that could not be avoided. Wu Changyun came closer and asked, "Why aren't you afraid of your sister at all?"
"My sister is not scary. I can't learn to be afraid." Liang Chaowei lowered his head and felt a little aggrieved.
Wu Changyun didn't think anything was wrong with what he said, but he felt something was amiss. Why should one be afraid of acting? His question seemed a little off.
"Then can you pretend to be afraid of your sister?"
"Let me try."
I shot the same shot again, but it still didn't work.
"This kid can't act out what fear is." Zhou Xujiang said, and this time even Yuan Aijia shook his head.
"That shouldn't be the case. One Cannes Best Actor, three Golden Horse Awards, five Hong Kong Film Awards, and Liang Chaowei can't act? This is a joke." Wu Changyun still firmly believed in his judgment, and it was not just his judgment.
"Come, let me talk to you." Wu Changyun took Liang Chaowei's hand and walked to the stairs, where they could avoid the cameramen and other staff.
"Are you afraid of walking at night?"
"No."
"What if you encounter rats and cockroaches?"
Liang Chaowei also shook his head.
"Are you afraid of your father?"
This time Liang Chaowei hesitated. He was fearless as a child because every time his parents had a fierce quarrel, he would suppress his fear and lie on the window to watch. He would not stand beside his mother like a man until his father slammed the door and left, leaving his mother crying in the yard.
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